Thursday, 8/6

It's nice to know that for once I (hopefully) chose wisely.

Because of my Ore to Shore commitments this weekend I've been trying to take a little time off this week. As you know, I try and take time off when it's supposed to be nice & sunny, and yesterday morning I was faced with a forecast that called for mostly sunny skies both Wednesday & Thursday.

I had to choose one, and (hopefully), I chose the correct day. After all, yesterday was NOT the day to take off when you wanted sun. Until, of course, around 2, when I would have had to come into work. Then the sun came out--

Perfect timing, huh?

This is happened to me before, and it usually goes like this—I wake up on a day that calls for sun, and when it's cloudy I'm concerned but not panicked. After all, the forecast still calls for sun. I go to work for a bit, and when I leave the clouds are still around, so I go running. When I finish running and take a shower, only to find that there was still a lot of haze in the sky, I start to have my doubts. I'll then usually stand at my apartment window, staring at and silently cursing the clouds until it's time to go back to work. And as I walk down Front Street to the station, the clouds finally break and the blue sky with its inviting sunshine pours out.

Oh, the irony of it all.

Now, I could whine like a six year old about the unfairness of days like that, but I'm gonna try & take the high road. After all, I am (theoretically) an adult. I should realize that Mother Nature doesn't do that just to get back at me for some perceived slight I might have accidentally unleashed upon the universe. I should think of it unselfishly; instead of how it affected my day, I should think about how the skies cleared just in time for everyone who was stuck inside of work all day to get out and enjoy the nice weather. I should instead revel and chuckle ruefully at the timing of the clouds leaving. I mean, how often does something like that occur at exactly the time it happened? Not often. And I should laugh at that instead of complain about it.

So that's what I'm going to do. Even if it kills me inside.

Now, the forecast for today calls for sunny skies and warm temperatures, and as I write this is looks okay. Will it hold out? Fingers crossed, especially that it doesn't turn out like it did yesterday, and like it has in the past--

With the finally sun coming out at 2, right as I walk into work.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 8/5

I have got to stop using the word “literally”.

Literally.

It’s funny; every so often, I’ll notice that I use a word WAAAAAAY too often, and this time around that word is “literally”. I seem to do it a lot when I give tours; especially while explaining some of Marquette’s wonders. If you listen long enough you'll notice that in each description of a building or a person I seen to use the “L” word, and have to mentally make myself stop doing it.

(I WAS going to say I had to “literally make myself stop”, but see? I’m getting better at it.)

I don’t know how I get into a word rut like that. I just know that it happens every so often, and I usually don’t notice it. I’ll have Loraine or someone come up to me or drop me a note and say something like “have you notice you say (fill in the blank) an awful lot?” To which my reply would probably something like “really? I literally say it that much?” And the vicious cycle starts all over again, as I stop saying the offending word and start saying “literally” (or whatever) again.

Recently, though, I've been catching it myself, which means that maybe, just maybe, I’m becoming aware of my verbal faults. Maybe, just maybe, I’m starting to realize my dependence on certain words or certain phrases. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll end up as an erudite aging (even if he doesn't want to admit it) but still young man who no longer uses certain words as crutches and who no longer drives certain phrases into the ground.

And, while we’re at it, maybe I can get my own spaceship, too? That’s probably more likely than me ever dropping all of my verbal faults.

Literally!

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 8/4

Sometimes I put the jokes in just for me. I hope you're okay with that.

My TV piece last night was one of those gag-filled bits I stick together every so often, prompted by “Jimothy”, a raccoon with a deformed spine that seems to have captured the fancy of half the people on the Internet. In response, I came up with five “Wild Creatures of the UP”, starting with real ones and slowly devolving into the land of the absurd. And as a bonus, aside from the gags I verbally delivered, there were also little ones written in the graphics I put together.

I wonder if anyone even noticed?

The gags were in the form of the scientific names of the creatures. The first, for a monarch butterfly, was scientifically accurate, while the rest were just figments of my twisted mind. They were, in a way, connected to the picture on the screen, but were not grounded in reality at all. While I was coming up with them I realized that were actually a play on the fake scientific names that Chuck Jones would always stick in Road Runner cartoons.

And if you're gonna rip off someone, you rip off a master of the form, right?

So check 'em out for yourself. While I don't think they approach Chuck Jones-levels of madness, just consider them extra bonus gags in a piece already filled with bunch of stupid gags to begin with.

And you get them with no extra charge!

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 8/3

Who said it could be August already? No one asked MY permission.

I’m astounded at the speed with which this summer is passing. It seems like it was just a week or so ago that I was getting ready for Loraine's dad to visit over the Memorial Day weekend; it seems like it was just a couple of days ago that I was sitting on the street watching the Marquette Fourth of July parades. Now, it’s August. By the time I wake up tomorrow (or so it’ll seem) kids’ll be back in school, I’ll be back from downstate visiting Loraine's dad, and Labor Day will have come and gone. Then, we have nothing but falling leaves, cold temperatures, and 7 straight months of snow staring us in the face.

Can’t anyone do anything about that? Please?

8-)

The more ancient I get, the more I’m amazed by how much “older people” actually knew when I was a kid. They’d tell me things like, oh, time speeds up the older you get, but I didn’t listen. I didn’t think it mattered. After all, they were “older people’. What did they know, right?

As it turns out, old people know quite a bit. Now, I find myself trying to pass wisdom along to my nieces or the students I get to know on “High School Bowl”. But I always add this caveat—I always tell them that they’re not gonna believe me when I tell them something now, but in 10 or 20 or 30 years, they may find remember some obscure fact or piece of wisdom that crazy old uncle Jim passed along and realize that maybe, just maybe, he knew what he was talking about.

After all, I never believed what I was told until I actually got old myself.

So, anyway, where were we? Oh yeah. . .the fact that that it’s August already. Can anyone please make the summer slow down, even if just a little? Please?? I’ll give you a lollipop and a puppy if you can. Really, I will!!

Thanks in advance,

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 7/31

Downtown Marquette's a busy place these days.

Think I'm kidding? Well, I'm not. You see, between road construction projects--

and major building projects--

It can sometimes feel almost impossible to get around this part of the city. And that'll be exacerbated today when the annual Blueberry Festival closes not one, not two, not three, but FOUR blocks of streets, and an estimated 9,000 people will flood into the area. So if you think it's been bad the last few days...

Just wait.

Because of everything going on, especially with the detours and traffic stoppages this week, I've noticed, while looking out the studio window or standing on the sidewalk sipping my tea and listening to car horns bleating non-stop, that drivers are starting to get impatient. And I get that; after all, you want to get where you're going. But realize this—even with the detours and the stops and the long wait at lights, you're only adding a minute or minute and a half to your journey. It's not like you're stuck in a never-ending traffic jam, or it's not like you're barely moving in the gridlock of a large city.

You're in Marquette. You'll get where you're going in six minutes instead of five.

Or you could think of it this way—you're driving through an area that people WANT to drive through. That's why there's so much traffic. Think of all the places in the UP that would kill to have the kind of traffic count that's making your five minute drive a six minute drive. We're just lucky enough to be in a place that people want to be.

And that's much better than the alternative.

Thankfully, after the Blueberry Fest today, street construction and closures will mostly end, detours will be lifted, and aside from closed sidewalks thanks to all the construction and renovation going on around here, things should return to normal, and your five minute drive will once again be a five minute drive.

And that's when your patience will pay off.

****

If you're going, enjoy the Blueberry Festival today. And whether or not you are attending that particular event, make sure you have yourself a great weekend!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 7/30

This is among my favorite blogs to write all year.

I'm actually writing this yesterday afternoon, sitting in the sun at one of Marquette's crown jewels--Lower Harbor Park--and just watching the world go by me. There are groups of tourists and locals walking around the park, a lunch hour yoga class taking place under the shade of a big tree, and a group of kids who just jumped off their bikes and are now running through one of the sprinklers the city has going in an attempt to keep the park grass green.

If you were ask for a definition of a perfect summer scene on a perfect summer day, this might approach it.

I often get people who, knowing my loathing of snow and cold, ask why I live here. I usually give them two reasons--July and August. And while that answer is often given in jest there is a (big) kernel of truth behind it. I get through the cold & snowy months by telling myself that there will be better days, and a day like yesterday (and the one we're promised today) was one of those better days. I mean, here I am, sitting in the 80 degree sunshine 40 feet from the greatest of lakes, watching sailboats go by in the harbor and a gaggle of bicyclists and runners make there way to or fro along the bike path

Could you actually ask for much more than that?

I try to take advantage of days like these, if only because I know they're few in number and fleeting in nature. After all, here we are, already heading into the last few days of July of a summer that has been all over the map. The way time is flying these days it'll be Labor Day next week, Thanksgiving the week after that, and before we know it we'll be huddled en masse indoors in a vain attempt to stay warm during yet another January cold snap.

That's why I treasure writing a blog like this on a day like yesterday. The opportunities to do it are few in nature, and when I get the opportunity to do it, I cherish it with all the appreciation I can muster.

The view from my writing studio yesterday?

See? Can't ask for much more than that, can you?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 7/29

Is it any wonder I can never relax?

Most people (i.e. normal people), given a free hour on a Tuesday night, might use that time to relax, to get ahead on work, or just to enjoy a fairly nice evening. But do you think I can EVER do anything like a normal person? No. . .that would be waaaaaaaay too easy.

Case in point--instead of spending the free hour I had last night vegging out or doing run-through of my “Happy Hour Pt 2” tour coming up in a few weeks, I instead spent some of that precious time trying to solve a mystery as unsolvable as any an Ellery Queen or Nancy Drew may have solved in their prime--

I spent my precious free hour trying to figure out why I had a pen that said “Escanaba Senior Center” on it.

It’s a very good pen; it’s bright orange, has a nice “feel” to it, and writes quite well. But because maybe I AM closer to zero on the Jim Stir-Crazy Clock than I thought, I started to wonder where I’d actually picked up the pen, instead of just using it and then ignoring it (you know, like a normal person). I haven’t been to Escanaba recently. While I AM getting older, I’m nowhere near Senior status yet. And as far as I can remember, I didn’t even know Escanaba HAD a center like that.

So just where did I get the pen?

This much I know--it was in my back pack as of last week. I know that because I needed a pen to write down a note while walking to work, and I was lucky enough to find it there. But the questions started to pile up. When did it go into my back pack? I have no idea. How did it get into my back pack? Once again, I’m clueless (in case THAT wasn’t painfully obvious). I’m thinking I must’ve picked it up somewhere, but where? Who do I know (or where did I go) that would have a pen from the Escanaba Senior Center? And, most importantly. . .

Why was I spending so much time thinking about this?

It was about that time that I realized I even the few minutes I’d spent pondering the question were a few minutes too many. I realized I should use the time for more worthwhile pursuits, like writing a TV bit or working on the tour or pestering Loraine. Much like the question of who built Stonehenge or why do people like black licorice, I realized that this was one of those mysteries that can never be answered. The pen was in my back pack; it ended up there somehow, and it’s quite possible that that “somehow” was lost to the mists of time. Maybe I was never meant to know how it got there. After all, it’s only a pen. It’s not one of the mysteries of the universe.

Unlike, say, why people like black licorice.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com), owner of a pen from the Escanaba Senior Center