Tuesday, 3/31

You know, I would not have thought people would start that early in the morning.

In a sign that we live in a rapidly changing world I have started to notice something a little more than I would have thought. I usually run in the morning before work, which means that I'm on the streets around 8 am. And more than often than not these days I'll be running down a residential street and notice an odor, an odor that would not have been legal to smell in Michigan a decade ago.

Almost every day I'm out running around 8 am, I'll catch a whiff of someone smoking pot.

Now, I'm not against people using marijuana. Even though I don't partake myself, I did vote to legalize it. I'm cool with whatever you wanna do. I just find it...interesting that there's that much early morning usage of it. When pot became legal, I kind of assumed people would use it like they use alcohol, during certain times of the day and for certain occasions. But, as with many things in life, I was wrong.

Of course, the way the world is today, I really can't blame anyone for taking a hit before they head off to whatever reality's about to throw at them.

8-)

I've noticed another thing along those lines, as well. I can be walking down the street any time of the day, have a car go past me, and then a few seconds later catch a whiff of the same odor I come across while running. This worries me a little more; if you wanna get stoned when you're at home or wherever, cool. But doing so while you're operating a big metal box on wheels? That one gets a little...problematic. Even if the driver isn't partaking, there's probably enough second hand smoke in the car for a bit of a contact buzz, and as someone who walks everywhere and has enough problems with drivers not paying attention to pedestrians, well...

Let's just say that I'd prefer you not use while driving, just as I'd prefer you'd not drink while driving. And I'm pretty sure city and state police would agree with me, as well.

Back in 2018 when we the people legalized marijuana in Michigan I had no idea how the whole venture would turn out. From my point of view, with the exception of people using it in cars, it's probably one of the more successful social changes we've seen in recent decades, especially when you consider it moved a whole underground economy above ground for the benefit of everyone.

And like with all successful (social) experiments, it provides a few unexpected answers, as well, evidence of which is ample if you're out pounding the pavement at 8 am.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 3/30

I see what you're doing there, sugar. And I'm not gonna let you get away with it.

I was getting ready to do some baking this weekend, and bought a brand-new package of sugar in doing so. As I was putting it away I noticed two things, one being that, much like flour, paper containers really are not the best way to store things like sugar.

The other? Well, it was something printed on said paper container--

Yup. Look at what it says in the green portion of the package.  They're trying to make sugar sound healthy by saying it's fat-free. I mean...technically it's true, much in the same way cyanide could market itself as being “gluten-free”, but that doesn't make it any better for you.

Really, sugar, it doesn't.

Now, I have nothing at all against sugar. I use it each and every time I bake, and even, on occasion, when I cook. It's not evil (like, say, cyanide), and as long as you're aware of its calorie content you should be fine. But to simply ignore that fact and call yourself “fat-free” is a little...cynical, at best, and downright misleading at worst. I mean, I'm hoping there won't be any people out there who look at the label and think “hey—no fat. I can eat as much as I want”.

But I've also been on the Internet recently. I'm well aware of just how stupid people can be when they want.

In the end, I know it doesn't matter. Sugar can label itself as “fat free” because, well, it is. They're not lying. Sugar is just as fat free as cardboard, gasoline, plywood, and cyanide. So if you're baking something and run out of sugar, don't worry.

You can always substitute one of those other ingredients I just mentioned. After all, just like sugar, they're also “fat-free”.

(jim@wmqt.com), who would hope that everyone reading this knows that last line is just a joke and in no way a suggestion that you substitute plywood (or cyanide) for sugar. Yet, I have been on the Internet recently, and know just how stupid people can be when they want, so...

DON'T USE ANY OF THOSE INGREDIENTS AS A SUBSTIUTE FOR SUGAR!)

Friday, 3/27

If you had to pay residuals for the music stuck in your head, Jimmy Webb would own me right now.

As you may know, I have a problem (and right now, you indulge your snarky side and say, either out loud or quietly to yourself, “just ONE problem”?). That problem is this—I get a song stuck in my head, and it just won't leave. I can listen to other songs to try and cleanse my musical palate, but it doesn't work. That original song stays stuck there. I can even listen to it forty or fifty times in an attempt to get sick of it, but that doesn't seem to work, either.  I'm just stuck with a song on auto-repeat running through my brain until, for some mysterious reason, it stops.

I guess I'm just special that way.

The song that's been running through my head for about a week now? Well, it's written by the aforementioned Mr Webb and it's one of those over the top disco tunes that most people would be embarrassed to admit they like but that I, for some reason, tolerate. It was also used in a gold medal winning skating performance at the Winter Olympics last month, so it's been back in the public consciousness, so I'm sure that hasn't helped.  That over-the-top disco tune, written by Jimmy Webb, that's been lodged in my brain for over a week now?

Donna Summer's version of “MacArthur Park”.

That's right; a song that's widely regarded as one of the strangest (if not worst) ever written has taken over with little remains of my intellect. I don't know how and I don't know why; all I know is that it won't leave. I've actually awoken in the middle of the night with those stupid synth drums going “doooo” in my brain, and I wish I knew a way to stop it.

Unfortunately, I don't, and I just have to wait this out.

Seeing as how misery loves company, wanna stick it in your head, too? No, that's okay; you can thank me later.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com), hoping to, perhaps even this weekend, be “MacArthur Park” free)

Thursday, 3/26

Five days later, I'm still processing what I saw.

A couple of months ago I wrote about how much I was looking forward to the release of “Project Hail Mary”, a movie based on one of my favorite books ever. While the trailers and clips released beforehand led me to believe that it would be a good movie, you can never trust trailers and clips. You have to see the whole work for yourself. And after finally seeing the whole work, what do I think?

I think that it's an awesome movie, and it did something that's insanely rare while adapting a book into a movie. Many of the scenes up on the screen looked very much like the scenes in my mind as I was reading (or re-reading the book).

I went and saw the movie Saturday, fully prepared to be a little disappointed, and when I wasn't I entered a place that I've rarely been sent to while watching a movie. When I left the theater and got into the car I actually had to sit for a few seconds and process what I just saw. Even now, five days later, my mind will flash back to a scene or a sound or a thought and I'll have the same reaction. I just have to sit for a second and go through what's running through my mind.

The last movie to do that to me? “The Martian”, also, like “Hail Mary”, based on a book by Andy Weir.

Having read “Hail Mary” five times (and counting), I had absolutely no problems knowing what was going on up on the screen. Part of me, though, wondered if people who hadn't read the book five times (and counting) would get what was going on in scenes where one line of dialogue might have replaced five pages of description. However, after speaking with a few people who watched the movie but hadn't read the book, it seems it wasn't an issue. They enjoyed the heck out of the flick, and didn't seem they missed anything.

Which is a good thing.

I know a lot of people don't go to theaters to watch movies any more (heck, even I don't go out to theaters to watch movies much any more), but if I may make a recommendation, if you wanna watch “Project Hail Mary” do so on as big a screen as possible. There's just so much visual information to take in during some scenes that you wanna catch as much of it as you can.

I guess that, in the end, it doesn't matter how you watch it, just make sure that some time you DO watch “Project Hail Mary”. You may not be like me, and still processing what you saw five days after the fact, but I'm pretty sure you will be entertained.

And with movies these days, that's saying something.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 3/25

Every so often, I'm reminded that the internet is actually good for something.

I have no idea how the conversation started, but a couple of days ago Loraine and I were talking about beer. For some reason, at that moment we both flashed upon a moment from our childhoods, both vaguely recalling that while we were growing up there was a shampoo made out of beer.. Neither of us could recall its name; in fact, we were both only about 80% sure that the product actually existed.. Since we were curious, I pulled out my phone, went to Google, typed in “70s beer shampoo”, and was rewarded with the rich (albeit brief) history of “Body on Tap”.

Yup; the 70s, which gave us such strange items as pet rocks, polyester clothing, and Gerald Ford, also gave us, for a year or two, a shampoo made out of beer. In fact, it was a product made by Budweiser, which, I'm guessing, made a little too much beer one day and needed to find a way to get rid of it.

Although I might not actually be correct about that.

Neither Loraine nor I believe we ever used the shampoo, although once again we may be incorrect about that. After all, I can barely remember what I had for breakfast 10 minutes ago. Asking us to remember what kind of shampoo we used 45 years ago?

Yeah, good luck with that.

So anyway, it's nice to know that every so often, the internet can be a force for good, as opposed to what most people use it for. In fact, not only can it confirm that there WAS indeed a shampoo made of out of beer decades ago, it can even provide a TV commercial touting it--

We live in amazing times, don't we?

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 3/24

Am I weird in that I actually like flying?

As Loraine and I are getting ready to (hopefully) head to Germany in just over a month, I find myself actually getting excited that I get to fly somewhere soon. I know; it's strange. Most people look upon flying somewhere with the same enthusiasm they would have looking forward to a root canal. But not me. For some reason, even when faced with a TSA slowdown and the fact that it takes 20-some hours to get where we're going, I actually get excited that I'm gonna be up in the air soon.

Go figure.

I don't know why I always so look forward to flying. I just do. And before you think I'm totally insane, know that I am fully aware of the hassle of flying. I know what it's like having to stand in long security lines. I know what it's like losing luggage. And although I've never had to deal with a situation like someone I know had to last week, when her Sunday night flight from Detroit to Marquette didn't actually make it to Marquette until Wednesday night), I know first hand what it's like having to make a short connection or re-book a canceled flight.

Yet, I still look forward to doing it.

I suppose, if I had to think about it, that maybe it's because I like the romance of flying. Not romance as falling head over heels in love, and not romance as in joining the Mile High Club, but just the “romance” of doing something out of the ordinary and going somewhere special. Maybe I like it because flying is a gateway to an adventure. And that's true. But it still wouldn't account for the fact that I even enjoy the flights home after the “adventure” is finished. I still enjoy boarding the plane, spending hours gazing out the window and watching the world slip by below me, and I still enjoy the rhythm of life that's unique to an airport.

I can't explain why. I just do.

Ask me again in mid-May after we've experienced whatever's gonna happen during our flights to Europe and back. But you know what? Even if something bad were to happen, even if I spent a lot of time afterward grumbling about it, I'd probably still harbor a weird, secret wish--

That I'd be able to fly again, and fly again soon.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 3/23

Black jellybeans. Never, ever black jellybeans.

Loraine and I took our annual Easter shopping trip out to Harvey this past weekend; Lofaro's for everything I'll need to make Easter dinner, and Snyder Drug just to check out their collection of Easter goodies. While perusing all of the choices from which we could choose, we came across the one Easter candy that's so bad, so horrid, that it threatens to turn a person off of sugar and yummy treats forever. Which Easter goody is so bad, so horrid, that it threatens to do that for me?

Black jellybeans.

Unlike, say, the tale I've mentioned several times about how bananas (literally) make me throw up, I've never ever liked black jellybeans. And I'll be the first to admit it's the taste of them. While I like anise in cookies and LOVE the taste of anise in that weird German Fennel-Anise-Caraway Seed tea I drink, the taste of it in black jellybeans (and its weird cousin, black licorice) just turns my stomach. Unlike bananas, I don't know why it turns my stomach. It just does. And it's not even because I force-fed myself so many black jellybeans that I made myself sick, like I did with bananas when I was two or three. I don't think I could ever eat that many black jellybeans, because I just don't like the taste.

If that makes me a freak, so be it, because I know there are a LOT of people who love black jellybeans. I know of people who'll buy a bag of nothing BUT black jellybeans and eat them one after the other. But not me. Any other color of jellybean is fine; heck, I even like those bubble-gum flavored Jelly Bellys that make some people wretch.

But black jellybeans? Nope. I'll leave those for you.

So if you happen to see me being offered jellybeans sometime in the next few weeks (not that you would, but never say never), you can rest assured that I'll happy munch down on the red ones, the green ones, the yellow ones, the blue ones, and even the bubble gum ones. But the black ones?

I think I'll pass.

(jim@wmqt.com)