Friday, 12/30

It'll be weird hanging out with Loraine, but if the truth be told, I don't think there's anywhere else I would rather be.

For 15 years now, I have not hung out with Loraine on New Year's Eve. Instead, I've spent the evening with 3,000 of my closest drunk friends, broadcasting as the ball drop occurred at the Savings Bank Building right down the street from the station. I did it the first year we moved to Marquette, just because I could, and since people seemed to like it, I kept doing it for the next decade and a half.

But this year? It doesn't look like it's gonna happen.

Why, you ask? Well, I answer, because they moved the ball drop. In case you haven't heard, the people who've been putting it on at the Savings Bank Building for over 20 years decided to pass the torch to the next generation, which is both good news and bad news. It's good because we know that there will be a ball drop for the foreseeable future, something that wasn't always guaranteed. That's bad news, though, because by moving the ball drop from the Savings Bank Building to the Masonic Square in downtown Marquette, broadcasting it becomes problematic. Instead of just stepping outside the front door of the station and babbling, I'd either have to run a VERY long mic cable a block away (and watch as one of my 3,000 close drunk friends unplugs it for no reason) or hope I could get an internet signal among 3,000 other people trying to get an internet signal and broadcast that way.

And since neither option guarantees that I'd actually be on the air when the ball drops, as opposed to just standing outside the front door, we decided to forego it this year.

Once again, that's good news and bad news. It's bad because for the first time in 15 years I won't be doing the ball drop. It's good news because for the first time in 15 years I get to spend New Year's Eve with Loraine. Now, I don't know if SHE considers it good news or bad news, but I know that I'm kinda looking forward to it.

I know that while I'll miss spending the evening with 3,000 of my closest drunk friends, I also won't miss spending the evening with 3,000 of my closest drunk friends. After all, I don't know if you've ever noticed what happens when you put drunk people next to a live microphone, but I have 15 years of experience with it, and trust me...you get really good at hitting a kill switch very quickly.

VERY quickly.

So tomorrow will be a different kind of evening, but I have to admit I am looking forward to it. To the new gang putting the ball drop on, I hope it's a smashing success and I hope it's the first of a long run at the new location. And who knows...maybe, some year, I'll figure out a fool-proof way to broadcast from mid-way down the 100 block of West Washington Street. But this year, I think I'll just enjoy Loraine's company.

8-)

On that note, have yourself a great end of 2016, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that 2017 is better—or at least different—than the year we're wrapping up.

See you Tuesday to start the year anew!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 12/29

Let's just blame this on 2016, too.  And I'm not talking about Debbie Reynolds...because 2016 definitely gets the blame for that.

You may recall yesterday, when I wrote about how “2016” has sucked as a year, even though “2016” is not anything physical and just a human construct to help us mark time. As much as I tried not to blame “2016” for any of the bad stuff that has happened this year, some of it may have seeped through, because the vengeance of “2016” has struck again. Thankfully, though, it hasn't claim a celebrity.

All it claimed was just my back.

Let me explain—a couple of minutes after posting yesterday's blog taking “2016” to task I was working out a little. While doing something I've done for years now—taking two hand weights and lifting them over my head so they were basically touching the back of my neck—I felt a somewhat sharp pain in the middle of my back. Being just smart enough to know that when you feel a pain like that you should stop what you're doing, I stopped what I was doing and felt the muscle between my shoulder blades spasm for a few seconds.

When I stopped, I knew I had somehow pulled it.

My back was sore the rest of the day, and while it's better today it's still twingy, especially when I move a certain way. Hopefully, it's just a weird temporary thing, and I can go on with my life as usual. But like I mentioned before—I've done this exercise, with slight tweaks here and there, once a week for several years. I've never had any problem with doing it before; I've never even felt the slightest twinge or pull when doing it. Yet right after I write something taking this horrid year to task, there goes the muscle in my back.

Hmm....

Now, of course, the rational side of me knows that “2016” had nothing to do with my pulling a muscle in my back. It's not logical, it's not possible, and I'm sure that not why it happened. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation as for why something I've done for years all of a sudden did what it did. I'm sure there is. But I can't deny that as soon as I felt the pain, the first thing through my mind—after telling myself to stop what I was doing—was to say, quoting myself, “Really, 2016?”

Well, there have been one or two more words in there, but we try to keep this family-friendly. So we'll skip those for now.

Like I said, I'm sure “2016” had nothing to do with my sore back. There's no logical way it could have. However—and I'm not saying this because I'm superstitious or I believe in any way, shape, or form that an amorphous concept like a “year” has control over out destiny—I think I'll skip my next workout, and wait until (ahem) Sunday to do it again. After all, I wanna make sure my back heals, right? I should give it a day or two off.

And if that day or two just happens to get us into “2017”, then I wouldn't have to worry about “2016” striking again, right?

Right?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 12/28

Well, looks like I was wrong yet again.

You may remember yesterday when I commented on how it seems like Carrie Fisher had been able to beat the Grim Reaper known as 2016.. Little did I know that just four hours after I wrote that sentence she would become the year's latest victim.

Hope I wasn't a jinx, or anything.

I realize that trying to blame a year for something is like trying to blame the sun for shining. A year is not a physical entity. 2016 did not physically reach down and rip everyone from Prince to Carrie Fisher from our hands. 2016 is not to blame for any of this.

But still...2016 has really sucked.

I can't remember for the life of me—and I've been on this planet for a while now—a year which claimed so many beloved celebrity figures, and a year that also took the word “normal” and shook it upside down like it was some kind of hyperactive snow globe. If you had told me last December 28^th what I would be writing about on this December 28^th I would've called you a fool, if not worse. I would've joked that you need to stop drinking, or wonder what was in one of those drinks that you had just sipped. There would've been no way for me to even fathom what has in fact transpired the past 366 days.

Maybe that's it. Maybe the leap year should take the blame.

After George Michael died Sunday, Loraine & I were joking how, with only 6 days left, 2016 couldn't screw us over any more. But we should've known better. Even though “2016” is just an ephemeral concept, and not a physical entity, it seems to have it in for us. I can't explain why, and I certainly hope 2017 doesn't follow in its footsteps.

With any luck, I'll be a little more correct about that than I was writing about Carrie Fisher yesterday morning.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 12/27

Survive the holidaze okay?

I did myself, thank you very much for asking. I was actually able to enjoy a very rare three day weekend, and at one point Monday morning actually realized that I had an hour and a half with absolutely nothing to do. As far as I can tell, that was the first time in over a month where I had an hour and a half with absolutely nothing to do, so for the first 10 or so minutes of that hour and a half, I just sat around, stunned by the fact. Then when I realized the clock was ticking and I’d better enjoy that hour and a half, I got off my butt and did enjoy it.

It was, in fact, one of my favorite gifts of the weekend!

Other than that, I’m guessing my holiday weekend was pretty much like yours. I spent some very enjoyable time with family members, I ate waaaaaaaaay too much, and I was able to take care of all kinds of crap around my apartment that hadn’t been taken care of over the past month. Oh, and I was able to foist the remaining few dozen of the Christmas cookies off on people willing to give them a good home.

All in all, a win-win weekend, except for wondering if 2016 would claim another victim Friday night (thankfully, Carrie Fisher pulled through), only to find the year wouldn't give up that easily (George Michael...really, 2016??)

Now I know for some of you, the weekend’s actually an 11 or 12-day break from reality, but not for all of us. No, some of us have to go back to work today. In fact, some of us actually have work extra this week because of the fact that everyone else is gone for the holidays. But that's okay; they're the ones who stay at work when I'm spending a summer half-day playing at the beach.

And trust me—I'd much rather be stuck working between Christmas and New Year's Day than be stuck at work when it's warm and the sun is out!

Tomorrow...whether or not I continue a 12-year tradition this weekend. I still haven't decided.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 12/23

I'm not on the air today; in fact, my three and a half day weekend starts at 2. But I did want to wish you all a great holiday weekend. I hope it's filled with love and cheer and cookies...lots and lots of cookies, in fact.

I'll be back both here and on the air with something new Tuesday. Before then, though, if you'd like to read about a Christmas Eve tradition Loraine and I have, just click here. So until then...

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 12/22

Who would you rather have been--Chubby Checker, or Bobby Helms?

No, I haven’t gone off my rocker, and no, this isn’t just some bizarrely random question. It may be bizarre, but it’s not random. It’s probably not a question you would think of any other time of the year, but it’s certainly not random. And, if it’s okay with you, I’ll explain why.

Both Chubby Checker and Bobby Helms were singers as the 1960s rolled into existence. Now, they were both popular before I was born, but I do have an understanding of what they did and the impact they had in the world of music. For about a year and a half, Chubby Checker was the biggest thing in pop music. He had three number one songs, including one that topped the charts twice (“The Twist”), and was mobbed everywhere he went. If I had to make an analogy, he was kind of like the Lady Gaga of his day, minus the outrageous costumes. For that year and a half, he was a S-U-P-E-R-S-T-A-R under any definition of the word. Bobby Helms, on the other hand, was never really that famous. He had a few semi-popular country songs, made it onto the pop charts once, was never mobbed, and just kind of disappeared quietly. His stardom certainly wasn’t anywhere near the magnitude of Chubby Checker, but you know what?

If I had to choose between having been Chubby Checker or Bobby Helms, I would’ve chosen Bobby Helms.

While Chubby Checker was the biggest thing in music for a year and a half, we don’t think about him much any more. People don’t listen to his music on a regular basis, and people (like me) born after his reign on the top of the charts probably couldn’t tell any of his songs from any other recorded during that span of time. While Chubby Checker was the biggest star in pop music for a year and a half, nowadays he’s, basically, forgotten.

Not so Bobby Helms. While he was never a superstar in the musical world, and while he never had a number one song, the one song of his that DID make the pop charts was a little Christmas ditty called “Jingle Bell Rock”. The song actually charted three years in a row in the sixties, has been featured in everything from TV commercials to the movie “Lethal Weapon”, and is instantly recognizable to anyone born after it was released. Bobby Helms may not have been a huge star in his time, and people may not even know who he is today, but unlike any song by Chubby Checker, we sure do know one of his songs.

And THAT’S why, if I had to choose an answer to that bizarrely random question I asked at the beginning of this blog, I’d choose Bobby Helms. How about you?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 12/21

It’s a miracle, I tell you...a real holiday miracle--

It looks like I have a 3 and a half day weekend coming up this weekend!

I just figured that little fact out, and I have to admit I’m both happy and stunned. Because of the way the calendar (or the stars) line up this year, I have to work until 2 on Friday. There’s the “half” part of the three and a half day weekend. I have Saturday and Sunday off, like a normal person. Then I get Monday off as my “holiday” day. You put it all together, and I have myself that legendary and occasionally mythical three and a half day weekend. Of course, that in no way measures up to the 2-week break my friends who work at NMU get, but then I don’t have one of those legendary and mythical cushy state jobs like they do, right?

8-)

My extended weekend’s actually kind of a nice thing, too. After all, I’ll be doing the usual weekend stuff like shopping & laundry when I get done Friday, and then doing the usual holiday stuff Saturday and Sunday. But then there’s Monday, a day to which no one ever looks forward but all of a sudden looms like an extra gift found under the tree hours after everyone thought they had opened all of their presents.

Hmm...now that I think about it, you know how I always ask Santa for a 25^th hour in the day? Well, maybe this was the best he could do, the gift of an “added’ day in one particular year, a day on which I have no plans, no responsibilities, no...nothing. If that’s the case, I think I owe the jolly fat guy in the red suit quite the thank you card!

Yay!!!

****

Speaking of things about which to yell out “Yay!”, consider this—starting today, a certain thing starts getting better each and every day. Today is the shortest day of the year, a day when get to experience a whole eight hours and 32 minutes of “sun” (or, more likely, gloom that’s not totally dark). But tomorrow, we get an extra minute of “sun” (or gloom), and it does nothing but up go a little bit each and every day from now on, until we hit June 20^th and get to bask in something like 17 hours and 40-some minutes of actually sun (and usually, thankfully, not much gloom). Sure, we’ve not yet reached the coldest time of the year, and sure, we’ve not yet reached the snowiest time of the year (believe it or not), but at least in one very small way, winter’s over, and things are starting to look up.

So like I said before, “Yay!”

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 12/20

I don't wear a hat because my head is too small.

There. You happy?

8-)

The past few days, with their bitterly cold temperatures, have led to several people ask me why I wasn't wearing a hat while walking to work or walking someplace else. One of them even went so far as to mention that they don't ever recall seeing me in a hat, which could very well be true, at least when I'm not running. I don't wear hats, and I don't wear them for one reason—because I have a very small head.

No, seriously, I do have a small head. In proportion to the rest of my body, my head is smaller than an average person. When discussing it with my dad over the weekend (he being one of those people asking why I wasn't wearing a hat) he noted that I get the small head from him. And it's true. I do get my small head from him. Yet that doesn't stop my dad from wearing a hat wherever he goes.

Probably because he's a normal person.

Maybe it's just me. Okay, it's definitely just me. But I think I look weird in a hat, especially a winter hat. It crushes the only thing that seems to make my head look a normal size—what's left of my hair—thereby making my head look like a tan grapefruit sitting on top of a scarecrow's body. And I think I look strange enough as it is. So because I think it makes me look weird, I would much rather freeze my ears off than wear a hat.

Obviously, my dad's much more mature than I, right?

Like I said, I do wear hats when I'm running or skiing, because I really don't care what I look like, and during winter, if I'm gonna be outside for an hour sweating in bitterly cold temperatures, I do actually wanna stay warm. To quote a fake country song title I once came up with, “I May Look Stupid, But I'm Not That Dumb”. But if it's just a five minute walk to work, or a quick dash from one building to another; well, maybe I am that dumb. All because then I DO care what I look like wearing a hat.

I know. A shrink would have a field day, wouldn't they?

Anyway, that's the really bizarre reason why I don't wear a hat. So if you ever see me out in the cold, with ears red and steam rising from my neck, realize that I do know better.

It's just that my small head can't process it.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 12/19

A couple of years ago, we ran a commercial that asked a very timely question--

What would you rather have this time of the year, more time or more money? I’ve always agreed with the answer the commercial gave, perhaps no more so than this year.

I would MUCH rather have the extra time!

That’s become OH so apparent the last week or so as I’ve I tried to cram in the start of cookie baking, shopping, visiting family & friends, more baking, more shopping, and a few non-essential items like eating and sleeping each 24-hour day. I didn’t get everything done; not all the cookies are baked, NO gifts are wrapped (they’re not even all purchased yet), and, as I realized last night while lying in bed unable to sleep, the time for all of that is rapidly running out.

After all these years, you’d think we’d figure out how to budget time around the holidays, but it never seems to work. Every year, things seem to get added onto our schedule, and what we may have been able to accomplish before the holidays LAST year now mocks us as we cry while looking over our “to-do” lists.

I’ve taken to adding something onto my Christmas list every year. For the past 20 or so years, when anyone asks what I want for the holidays, I’ll list a couple of things I think people will want to get me, and then a couple of other fanciful items that I’d like but I know I’ll never get, which usually consist of world peace and my own spaceship. Since 2005 (I think) I’ve added a third item--a 25^th hour in the day.

Well, a boy can dream, can’t he? And while I have, in various forms, received “world peace” and “my own spaceship” over the past few years (on T-shirts, toys, and trinkets) Santa has yet to slip that extra hour per day into my stocking.

If you happen to visit Santa before next Saturday night, wanna drop a hint or two for me? I’d sure appreciate it!

*****

Speaking of not having enough time, if you don’t have enough time (or gas) to drive around and look at Christmas lights, try THIS.

You can thank me later!!)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 12/16

With one week and one day left to go before Christmas Eve, I have no idea if I’ll even be getting my tree up.

Yikes!

And it’s not just the tree I’m worried about; I only have a few gifts purchased (much less wrapped), I have not one cookie baked, and “A Charlie Brown Christmas” is still sitting in my living room unwatched. So if nothing else, I have all that going for me!

It seems like I complain about something like this every year, but this holiday season seems to be worse than usual, even worse than that time a couple of years ago when I was on call for jury duty the entire month. Some of that is the fault of the fact that I’m doing the jobs of several people at work, but I have no idea what’s causing the rest of it. In fact, I looked at the calendar last night, and asked Loraine where the first half of December went.

I mean, wasn’t it just my birthday yesterday??

I’m confident the tree will be up before Christmas; after all, it’s just a little L.E.D. thingee that you pull out of the box and plug in. But I still have to get down to the storage area in the basement of our apartment and find it, and that could take some time. Of course, my cross-country skis are down there, as well, and I need to get THOSE out soon, too, so maybe I can get both things taken care of at once.

I’m also confident the cookies will be done soon. After all, it’s not like I have a choice n the matter, right? Time is running out, so I have two evenings set aside for that, as well as the annual baking fest with any nieces who might be free at my parents Sunday afternoon. So while those will finally get done, they’ll also take away a big chunk of free time that could be used to, I dunno, try and find my L.E.D. Christmas tree.

I’m hoping that one of these years, I’ll realize the holiday season is sneaking up on me rapidly, and use that knowledge to get everything that needs to get done done ahead of time, so I can just sit around and enjoy the season. Of course, I’m also hoping that I get world peace and my own spaceship for Christmas every year, and that hasn’t happened yet.

But a boy can always dream, can’t he?

Anyway, I’m sure things will get done before Christmas. And if nothing else, a couple of years ago when I didn’t know if I’d have time to get my tree out, my dear then 10-year old niece Mallory drew me a picture of a Christmas tree, just to make sure I’d have one. So if I don’t get my L.E.D. tree out, I’ll at least have that ready to go.

All I have to do is remember where I put it.

On that note, have yourself a great pre-Christmas weekend. I hope you get everything done that you need now, so you, at least, can enjoy a few days of the holiday season!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 12/15

I was originally going to save them for a time when things get really bad, like late January. But after the past week or so, I think I’m gonna use them now.

Back in August, when Loraine and I were taking a lazy walk on a hot sunny day, we happened to find ourselves, like we often do, on Marquette’s streets and lakeshore bikes paths. There were all kinds of summer-type things out that afternoon, which prompted my (much) better half to suggest that I take pictures of a few of them, and then post the pictures one cold winter day, to remind people that better times are ahead. So I took the pictures, assuming that there would be a cold winter day on which to post them.

Little did I know that it would be in the middle of December.

I heard several people comment on the deluge of cold air this week, and not one of them had anything good to say about it. It feels like the past few days have been so bone-chattering and mind-numbingly cold that it's really not December. But, despite how it feels outside, it is. Christmas is still 10 days away. It just seems like Mother Nature’s front-loading her attack this year, throwing everything she can at us as early as she can to break whatever winter resolve we have (which, for some of us, admittedly isn’t much). If we’re this tired of winter now, what are we gonna be like in late January or early February, when things really get bad?

I don’t know about you, but I don’t even want to think about that!

So without further ado, here are a few of the pictures I took back in August, to ease your winter-addled mind and make you think of a time when you didn’t have to shovel or scrape, put mittens or scarves on, and could see a color other than white out of your window. . .

****

****

****

I particularly like the last one, but that's just me.

The next time you have to go out in the snow or the cold (or both), think of these pictures. Think of what it was like out the day I took them, and think of how not EVERY day in the U.P. has the conditions like the ones you’re facing today.

Hope they help. If this winter keeps coming at us non-stop, you’ll be seeing more of them in the future.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 12/14

Because I have to run out and record an extra episode of “High School Bowl” in a few minutes, I hope you don't mind that I'll leave you with something I wrote a couple of years ago. I came across it while going through a few files, and thought it still had a little relevance (and some humor in the article which I reference).

Back with something totally new tomorrow. Until then, stay warm!!!

(jim@wmqt.com)

****

(originally posted December 19^th, 2013):

It was a list that, more than anything, made me chuckle a little. But it also got under my skin a bit, because I think it hit close to home.

The Huffington Post recently put together a list of the “12 Things Women Without Children Don't Want To Hear".  Now, being part of a child-free couple, I had to both smile while reading at the list (the hypocrisy of number nine is amazing) and also be grateful that we’ve never heard some of the stuff apparently uttered by other people. However, there is one thing on the list with which I must take exception, and that is number eleven--

“How can you ever hope to be a family” (without kids)?

Reading the list to Loraine got a big laugh from her with, like me, the exception of number eleven. She even said, and I quote, “we’re a family and we’d even be one if we weren’t married”. And to that, I agree with her whole heartedly. Just because we chose to do things differently than other people doesn’t mean than we’re any less of a family than a couple with 2.1 kids, 3 dogs, and a mortgage.

So there.

The assumptions that would go into someone saying “How can you ever hope to be a family” without kids blow my mind. After all, what actually defines a “family”? Is it a group of people with shared DNA? Is it a group of people with a piece of paper that says they’re legally related? Can it be people who have shared bond in their lives? Or can it be people who have come to rely and depend upon others to make their lives better? I mean, I don’t know if it’s a generational thing or a cultural thing or if we (and many of our friends) are just strange, but for someone to presume that we (or someone else) can’t be a “family” just because we don’t have kids (or even a marriage license) just doesn’t seem right.

When I think of a “family” I think of these things--

-People who love each other.

-People who are there for each other.

-People who take care of and support each other.

-And people with whom you share your life.

And without exception child-free couples fit each of those points just as well as couples with children. So for someone to think that you can’t be a “family” just because your “family” doesn’t fit into their set of pre-conceived notions isn’t right.

I have no idea why that particular item got under my skin, but it did. Like I wrote a couple of weeks ago, being born in the 60s made me the person that I am, and one of the things about which I am most grateful is that being born in the 60s made me a bit of a non-conformist. Just because “everyone else” does something doesn’t mean that I have to do it. There is great power in individuality; there is great power in blazing your own trail. And just because we don’t fit into someone’s pre-conceived idea of what a family “should” be doesn’t mean doesn’t mean that we’re not a “family”.

I’ve been incredibly lucky in my life. I grew up in an amazing “family”, a family with parents and kids and everything else that you would consider “normal”. I wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world. But when I got married to Loraine the two of us became another “family”, and I wouldn’t consider it any less of a “family” than the one in which I grew up. Both “families” are loving and supportive of each other and are pillars of my life. For someone to assume that one isn’t equal to the other is just plain wrong.

And that’s probably why that one item on an otherwise funny list got under my skin, just a little bit.

Tuesday, 12/13

I wonder if it would help at all?

Loraine and I received a Christmas card from daily blog reader Glenn in South Dakota the other day, and one of the things he mentioned was how he and his wife enjoy reading these things every day. Glenn is actually like a lot of you; he doesn't live in Marquette, but because he & Loraine have a common interest and were once on a tour together, he got into the habit of checking these things out.

So if I've never said it, thanks for that, Mr. Cunningham. And thanks for the Christmas card, as well!

Anyway, like I mentioned, there are a lot of people (like the Cunninghams) who read these on a daily basis who have never set foot in Marquette. But because I write about the city so often, and share so many pictures throughout the year, Loraine and I started to wonder—could someone like the Cunninghams, or other people who've never actually been here, set foot in the city and, because they've read these blogs, know what's going on, who all the important players are, or know where they need to go?

I mean, think about it. I write about everything that Marquette has, every place we seem to go, and all of the weird things that seem to pop up. You'd think that would provide a little background info for people who've never been here, right? I mean, at the very least, those people would know what months to visit for beach weather, where to go for interesting food, and what's being built, and why. So could someone who's never been here, but has read these ramblings (and, perhaps, the ramblings of others from the area), get plopped into, say, Lower Harbor Park and hit the ground with their feet running?

That's what I'd be curious about.

One of the reasons I wonder is that I read a lot of blogs and Facebook posts from places we've been (if even for an hour) and I can visualize what the writers from those areas are talking about. But those are areas where, at the very least, I've set foot. Could one person write enough stuff about one area so that if I were to pop in unannounced, I'd know the lay of the land, or at the very least who to ask? Like I said, I'd be curious.

Of course, if any of you who read these and who've never been in Marquette actually find yourself in our fair city, I hope you'd let me know. I mean, not only would I be curious to know if reading these things actually prompted you to come here, but if that were the case, I know a dork who'd love to show you all the stuff he's been writing about all these years!

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

(by the way, speaking of Marquette, did you see have yet ANOTHER honor?  This one's thanks to beer!)

Monday, 12/12

I wonder how many are given out on any particular night?

Now that winter’s here some of my usual running routes are curtailed, and I find myself running more and more on city streets, instead of the usual Fit Strip or bike path or Park Cemetery or other off-road areas. While I’m usually not keen on street running (especially with the way people drive these days) I do get to notice one thing that you never see while running during the summer.

And that’s tickets on cars that have violated Marquette’s overnight parking ban.

Depending upon where (and for how long) I run I’ll see anywhere from 2 to 5 or 6 cars with tickets on them, but I really noticed it Saturday morning when I went out and saw 4 tickets on just one block. That made me pay close attention; by the time I got home, I counted 14—fourteen—cars with tickets on them. And while I didn’t check each individual ticket, I can say with a fair amount of confidence that those cars were ticketed for violating the overnight ban.

Especially the car that had been plowed in for what looked like several days, as evidenced by the multiple tickets stuck under the windshield wiper. Someone’s gonna have fun paying those tickets, and also paying for getting their car plowed out!

I don’t wanna sound like I’m stereotyping a whole group of people, but I notice that a large majority of people who seem to have ticketed cars get those tickets in neighborhoods with a lot of college housing. I mean, I live I one of those neighborhoods, and that’s where I saw those four cars in one block with tickets stuck under their wipers. On one hand, I suppose I hafta give credit to whomever the cars belonged; I’m guessing they got a little too carried away with their celebrating, realized they weren’t in any condition to drive, and just left their cars where they parked them. That’s great. But after spending what I’m guessing is an amazing amount of money on booze, do you really want to add in another $50 (or whatever the price is) for a ticket, as well?

I’d be curious to know how many of those tickets the Marquette City Police give out on a nightly basis during the winter. I’d also be curious to know how many of those tickets are actually paid, and how much money the city makes off of them on an annual basis. I’m guessing it’s not a small amount, but who knows. Maybe the tickets can pay for a new patrol car or breathalyzer or bulletproof vest. At least something good would come out of it.

For now, though, I’ll just look at the tickets I see as one of the (few) perks of running in Marquette in winter. Sure, you’re slipping on ice, and dodging cars that are driving too fast, but at least I know that when I get done I won’t see that little yellow envelope stuck under my windshield. Because that, I would guess, would not make a run (or going out to your car) very much fun at all.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 12/9

Okay. It can stop now.

That I’m not a fan of winter goes without saying; anyone who’s ever read even just a few days worth of this blog knows that. But the type of winter we’ve been subjected to yesterday and today is just, well, beyond reason. We didn't get a lot of snow, but it’s soooooo nice stepping outside your door and having stinging ice pellets batter your face; it’s even better when you have to walk three blocks to work or (heaven forbid) try to run a couple of miles in it.

Sure, your face gets nicely exfoliated. Unfortunately, it also hurts like heck for the next 48 hours.

All in all, if I need a facial, I think I’d prefer a nice warm spa. Really, I would.

I tell you what, though. I’ll try not to spend the next few months whining too much about the weather. I’m sure you’re sick of it, and even though it’s one of the coping mechanisms I use, I’ll try and develop a new one. Maybe I’ll just keep asking a question every day.

You know, a question like, “Is it July yet?”

I’m sure THAT won’t get on anyone’s nerves, right?

8-)

****

And now, for something completely different.

Today on “Upper Michigan's Favorite Friday” we're trying to figure out Upper Michigan's favorite “Wacky” Christmas song ever. It was prompted by a couple of songs...that one about Grandma, Weird Al's “Christmas At Ground Zero”, and one I get a bunch of requests for every holiday season--

“I Want A Hippopotamus For Christmas”.

Apparently, when it comes to never having heard the song before, I’m in the minority. As I’ve discovered with a few minutes of online research, there is evidently quite the cult that’s developed around the tune. And after hearing it for the first time, I guess I can see why. For those of you who haven’t heard it before, it’s kind of like the song “All I Want For Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth”, except the kid singing it wants a hippo instead of teeth.

Two front teeth, or a hippo. There’s not much difference between the two, right?

Anyway, it's one of the songs that prompted today's vote. If you haven't heard it yet, or like many people fondly remember it from your childhood, check it out!

Have a good weekend. Stay warm!!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 12/8

Well, sad to say, welcome to winter. Looks like there's nothing we can do about it this time around.

Although as I’m writing this I have no idea what the final snow total will be (so far an inch or so on the ground and Marquette schools, for some strange reason, closed), I’m guessing (based on the predictions of Brad Rogers, Harbinger of Doom) that many of you throughout the U.P. are staring at over a foot of the white stuff. Cheer up, though; after all, it’ll only be around for, oh, the next 5 or six months.

8-)

Five months. And before you think I’m kidding, you know I’m not. After all, we've had many years where we've had snow in the middle of May. And if you add five months to today, you know what you get?

Yup. The middle of May, 2017.

So how am I gonna survive five months of stir-crazy cabin fever? I have no idea; hopefully, I won’t end up standing out in the street naked yelling at the snow gods for making my life miserable (although that WOULD be a neat way for me to get into the Police Log, wouldn’t it?). I guess that over the next five months, I just hafta adjust my lifestyle. I won’t be able to spend as much time outdoors, I won’t be wandering around the area taking as many pictures, and I won’t be wearing shorts very much. Instead, I’ll sit inside and read a little more. I’ll get through some of the unwatched DVD and Blu-Rays that seem to pile up. And I’ll check off events like Christmas, New Year’s, the Noque, and Valentine’s Day, knowing that each event we go through means we’re one little step closer to the return of green (or at least brown) grass, sunshine, and sweat rolling down your back as you go running without 14 pieces of clothing covering up your body.

Yes, I know I’m a walking oxymoron. Yes, I know that for someone who was born in the U.P. I shouldn’t complain about winter, I should instead celebrate it. It’s just that, you know, it’s winter.

And it’s here for the foreseeable future.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 12/7

We're one of fifty. Who knew?

Because I'm a dork, I come across a lot of weird things to which most normal people wouldn't give even an iota of thought. Yesterday, one of those things, an article on National Geographic's website made me do a double take, because it's something I wouldn't have expected. The story is about “Megaregions” in the U.S.--areas geographically and economically connected to a center location. The article's a little dense, but when you step back and think about it, it makes perfect sense. People, with their lifestyle and their money, tend to cluster around convenient “hubs”, for the lack of a better word. As the article points out, research has shown that there are 50 of these “Megaregions” in the U.S., and you know what?

Marquette is the “hub” of one of them.

Don't believe me? Take a look at this map--

The map shows the 50 “Megaregions” in the U.S., and the areas that make them up. Most, as you may notice, are centered around major cities like Chicago, but because of geographic isolation, there are a few centered around smaller cities.

And we're one of them.

I mean, it's not a surprise. People always joke about Marquette being the “capital” of the U.P., but I would've thought the U.P. would've been part of another “Megaregion”; not necessarily our own. However, think of how things have changed over the past few years. Think of how many businesses the past few years have located in Marquette, and because of that how people from all over the U.P. no longer go to Green Bay for shopping. They come to Marquette instead. The same with medical care. And the same with a lot of young people who leave Escanaba or Iron River or Newberry and come to Marquette for school or to start their careers.

When you think of it that way, it makes perfect sense that Marquette is the hub of a “Megaregion”. As far as I can tell, we may be the smallest “hub” of the 50 ” Megaregions”, but it still makes perfect sense. So if in the next few years you see further economic development, or population growth, or more attention being paid to our little corner of heaven, realize that there may actually be a scientific reason behind it.

Because we're the capital of a “Megaregion”.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 12/6

I would love to hear the impressions. And to maybe hire the people behind them so I could take a day off.

Apparently, there are people out there who do impressions of me, and who do them quite well. I can't say I'm surprised; after all, anyone with as many vocal tics and weird radio habits as I have is ripe for impersonations. So when we were eating my birthday pumpkin bars Sunday my niece Courtney mentioned that she works with someone who was informed that Court & I are related. Once he realized that, he launched into his impression of me, and from the way Courtney relayed it, he sounds like he's pretty good at it.

Of course, now that I think of it, Courtney was pretty good at it, too, although I'm not quite sure if she was impersonating me or impersonating her co-worker impersonating me. But that, I guess, is a whole 'nother can of worms.

Anyway, because I've been doing this for so long, I don't even give a second thought to how people absorb what I put out. I just do what I do. But there must be something about the way I do it, because I've had many people—not just Courtney's co-worker—launch into their impersonation of me, or mention stupid things I do, or remark on the way I do them. I dunno; I guess over all these years I've probably forgotten what a powerful medium radio can be, and how much people can up pick strange stuff just by listening. But it's true.

And it's not just the impersonations that prove it. Remember “Birthday at the Beach”? That's another perfect example. So are all the comments I get from the students on “High School Bowl”, who've grown up with those weird habits and vocal tics I was previously mentioning. So I guess if you've around as long as I have—you know, since the age of dinosaurs—the fact that people imitate you, or remember weird things you've said, can be taken only one way. As a compliment. After all, it shows that people pay attention, and one way or another appreciate what you do.

Because I'd sure dislike doing this job for as long as I have and not have made ANY kind of impression on listeners.

So if you're one of those people who thinks you do a good impersonation of me, or who can reproduce some of those weird things I seem to say, let me know. I'd love to hear them. And I'd also like to thank you in person for hanging around long enough to develop the ability to do that impersonation.

That's one of the biggest compliments I could get.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 12/5

Okay. I don’t think I need to eat ever again.

After birthday pizza, a birthday dinner, pumpkin bars, mint chocolate chip ice cream, leftover birthday pizza, 6 different kinds of Greek food, leftover pumpkin bars, way too many yummy cookies at the library, and a big piece of delicious dark chocolate peppermint bark from Donckers, I do believe I exceeded my usual weekly intake of 20,000 (or whatever it is) calories in just 36 hours this weekend.

Go team!!

Even now I don’t feel like I can eat another thing. And, of course, the food (and the intake of the food) was all well-meaning. My family wanted me to have the birthday dinner and the bars and the ice cream and the birthday pizza. Peter White Public Library wanted me to have their open house cookies. And the amazing chefs at the Greek Orthodox Church in Marquette SURELY wanted me to sample almost everything they had at their annual bake sale, right?

Right?

I guess that’s one bad thing about having a December birthday; the month is filled with way too much consumption as it is, and when you throw in a birthday (plus a Thanksgiving that fell just a few days before all this), all those other holiday events, and gifts and treats from well-meaning people, you just go way over the top. It was quite the weekend, and has started me wondering—would a “weekend-only diet” work actually work? You know...where you eat your 20,000 weekly calories only on the weekend, and then take it easy the rest of the week? Nah. . .probably not. But it was a thought.

Now, if you'll excuse me now, I have to go exercise and start burning off some of those excess calories. And maybe buy some more Tums, too.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 12/2

Well, I guess I won't be doing “Birthday on the Beach” again this year.

Some of you may recall that last year I did a fanciful thing on my birthday. You may recall that after hearing that it would be sunny & almost warm on my birthday—December 4th—I joked I would go to the beach. I don't know that I meant it at the time; it was just one of those off-the-wall jokes that I would make with Laura. But as my birthday approached, something happened. People actually started to wonder if I was indeed going to the beach on my birthday. And when my birthday did roll around, I had a ton of calls, a ton of Facebook messages, and even several of Loraine's co-workers all asking the same thing--

Did I go to the beach on my birthday?

Well, seeing as how it was sunny and 60 degrees on my birthday, a day usually cold and/or snowy, what do you think? Not only did I go to the beach, I went in a suit--

That's right; I didn't go to the beach in a bathing suit, I went in a literal suit, if only because I had just finished taping a segment of “High School Bowl”. But I took my shoes off, walked through the amazingly warm sand, and much to the delight of everyone who had asked, I spent part of my birthday—on December 4^th, in Marquette, Michigan—at the beach, just because it was warm enough, and just because I could.

As I said at the time, apparently that's now how we do December birthdays in the 906!

However, it doesn't look like I'll be able to do it again this year. I broached the subject with Brad Rogers on the air a few days ago, and after laughing at the sheer Chutzpah I apparently showed last year, he informed me that it wouldn't be anywhere near beach weather this Sunday. Oh, sure, it would be beach weather if I was a penguin or a rainy day enthusiast, but seeing as how I'm neither, he (despite what I said yesterday) opined that I'd probably do nothing but whine while I was there. So, I guess, I'll forego it this year.

Bummer.

Who knows, though. Our overall weather pattern still calls for above average temperatures throughout the month, so maybe I should just shoot for a new goal. Instead of “Birthday at the Beach”, whaddya think about “Christmas at the Beach”? We didn't have any snow on the ground last Christmas, so it's always a possibility. And if I don't get to spend my birthday on the beach, at least I'd have something else to shoot for.

We'll just have to see now, won't we?

On that note, have yourself a great weekend. And seeing as how we're not supposed to have beach weather the next few days, make sure you stay warm and stay dry, too!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 12/1

For some bizarre reason I’ve been looking at several coffee cups & tea mugs I have lying around, and you know what I've realized?

I may need a personality adjustment!!

I mean, I don’t know if the sayings on coffee cups reflect someone’s personality, but if they do, then it appears I whine a lot. And in real life, I don’t whine that much. Honest--I don’t! Despite what I write in here and what I say on the air and the way I talk to my friends and the way I....

Uhm...well, never mind. Maybe coffee cups really DO reflect the person who has them. And maybe by looking at the ones in your possession, you’re able to tell just what people think about you, even if they’d never say it to your face. Maybe they know you and your personality quirks better than you do, and the coffee cups are a way to for you to discover those quirks.

Take three of the mugs I found lying around our apartment. One of them was a gift many years ago from one of my parents, and says “It’s hard for a night person to work days’. Now, aside from being quite true (trust me on that part), I’m sure it stemmed from the way I’d try (and actually still try) to wake up in the morning. My brain’s not working, my body follows and the only thing that comes out of my mouth is a series of mumbles and grumbles that try (but don’t quite succeed) in becoming intelligible sounds.

So chalk one up to truthiness in coffee cups.

Then there’s one Loraine got me as a gag gift (at least I think it was a gag gift), one that says “still perfect after all these years’. This, of course, is a veritable cornucopia of personality quirks, in that I’m far from perfect (witness how many times I say “Oops. . .my fault” during the day), and in that I also have that wonderful Koski family phobia about aging. So you see? You kill two personality traits with one stone in that cup!

Finally, there’s one mug that I still use all the time, and one that I will fully admit reflects my personality. I don’t remember who got it for me, and I don’t remember the circumstances under which I was given it. All I know is that it fit perfectly when I was given it, and it still fits perfectly to this day.

What does that mug say? It says this--“Some days, all I want is a normal life”.

Amen to that. It’s still a motto by which I live.

So if you’ve ever wondered how others see you (for good or for not so good), take a look at the coffee cups they give you. You’ll either be shocked or pleasantly surprised or, perhaps, both.

(jim@wmqt.com)