Monday, 1/30

Yay. I can talk today!!

After finishing my gig at the Noquemanon Saturday, I tried to keep my voice from doing too much for the rest of the day. It seemed to have worked; by the time I woke up yesterday, I was back to being my normal, hyper-verbal self, probably much to the dismay of Loraine who, I’m sure, would’ve preferred a little more silence.

But what are you gonna do, right?

As always, I was amazed by the competitiveness, the ability, and in some cases, the sheer determination of the athletes at the race Saturday. In spite of the re-worked course, the lack of snow on some parts and the falling snow that then made the course hard to ski, I was stunned by the closeness of some of the races and the effort put out by all the athletes, whether they were first-timers or have been doing the race each and every one of the 19 years it’s been run. And having announced at the finish line of race each and every one of those 19 years, I’m here to tell you that there are a LOT of people who’ve skied it for all or most of that (almost) two decades. By the way, it probably goes without saying that it blows my mind the race just wrapped up its 19^th year; seems like it was just a couple of years ago that 200 people skied in the first race. Now, it’s almost 1,500 and still growing.

Cool!

The end of the Noque for the year also means another thing, at least to me. It means we have now made it through what is usually the harshest part of winter. Maybe it hasn't seemed like it this year (or last year, for that matter), but it's true, especially from a statistical point of view. You see, starting over the weekend, the average high for the day has begun to crawl up ever so slightly. Sure, as of today the average high is only 22, but you know what? A few days ago, it was 21. And a few days before that, it was at its absolute bottom, 20. It may not feel like it, but on average, it’s starting to get a little warmer. Like I said, this year we've been so over the average high that it may not seem worth mentioning, but I'm gonna shout it from the (virtual) rooftops anyway--

Winter (or what passes for winter this year) is fighting a losing battle against the onrushing forces of Spring. Yippee!

Oh sure, we’ll probably have more cold snaps to deal with and more snow storms which to shovel (or snow blow) out of, but I think an important psychological barrier has been crossed. We’ve made it through what’s traditionally the worst part of a winter with our sanity fairly intact. Sure, this year has obviously not been “traditional”, but that's not the point I'm trying to make. We can now look forward to the day, perhaps not far away, when the sun comes out and finally stays out. We can look forward to the day whatever snow is left in our yards disappears, and little green shoots shoot out of the freshly uncovered ground. And we can look forward to the day when we step outside in the morning, and hear the songs of birds that have started to make the return trip on their yearly journey from north to south and back again.

And if that’s not reason to be happy that I have a working voice again, I don’t know what is.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 1/27

At least now I know where it's gonna finish.

Tomorrow's the 19^th annual Noquemanon Cross Country Ski Marathon, and as one of the few people who's volunteered at each & every one of them (in my case finish line announcer), I thought I had seen everything. But what with the lack of snow both here at the usual finish line in Marquette and at the usual start line at Al Quaal in Ishpeming, this year's race is gonna be weird. Instead of a 51 kilometer marathon, it'll be 31 K. The Half Noque, which is usually 24 kilometers, will be 23, just slightly shorter than the full marathon. And the 12 kilometer race now gets an upgrade and becomes 14 K, all of which will be run at the same time on different trails of the Noquemanon Trail Network at Forestville.

It should be interesting.

I feel for the organizers of the race; I know I wouldn't want to be in their shoes, dealing with circumstances out of their control, like the weather. However, they've done the best they could. I'm sure they'll be dealing with complaints left and right, but the people complaining really don't have a leg to stand on. Sure, the races will be shorter, but you know what? You can't ski where there's no snow. It's kind of impossible. So while the races won't be the usual length and won't be on the “usual” course, the people putting it on have been working non-stop for a week now trying to get things organized and ready to go.

Kudos to them.

I'm not quite sure how the whole thing will affect my job announcing at the finish line. I know there won't be the usual gaggle of people at the finish line cheering on the participants while ringing cowbells. I know skiers won't be quite as exhausted when they come across the line, and my favorite part of the day—the last hour, when stragglers slowly make their way “home”-- will probably, due to the shortness of the course, not be quite as dramatic as usual. But I'm sure when it's all said and done, everyone taking part in the race, either as a skier or a volunteer, will go home with memories of a very unusual ski race.

And with hopes that the big one next year, the 20^th, goes off without a hitch!

On that note, have a great weekend. And if you happen to know or see anyone involved in trying to put this year's race together, let them know they've done a great job under the strangest of circumstances!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 1/26

Okay, maybe “All in the Family” DID have a small impact on me. Not as much as “MASH”, but a very weird one nonetheless.

Yesterday, of course, I talked about how on character on “MASH” may be responsible for me turning out the way I did. It was all brought about because I'm reading the autobiography of Norman Lear, who created, among other shows, “All in the Family”. I said his shows didn't have as much impact on me as did “MASH” (and “Star Trek”), but in a way it did.

It's just a very STRANGE way.

Here’s the deal--I went running yesterday. Now, that in itself isn’t out of the ordinary; after all, I’ve been doing it for over 25 years now. But as I was getting ready to run, I noticed that I have a habit that’s so ingrained in my subconscious that I don’t even pay attention to it, a habit I'm sure I've been doing for all of those 25 years. I’ll first put a sock on, then the shoe that goes over that sock. Then I’ll put my other sock on, and put my other shoe over that.

And that's the one way I've been affected by “All In The Family”.

Don’t laugh; I actually think it’s true. When I was a real little kid, I used to watch the show during its original run in prime time, and one of the things I actually remember retaining from the show is a discussion between Archie and Mike, who could never agree about ANYTHING. This particular discussion revolved around putting your shoes and socks on. Archie was fuming because Mike put his on the way I do, and not the way that was “normal”, according to Archie (socks on both feet first, then shoes over them). Archie thought Mike was doing it that way just to irritate him, which was a possibility. But, as Mike explained, there was a reason.

What if, Mike said (and I’m paraphrasing here), there was a fire, and you only had time to put on two of your four pieces of foot apparel? You could put on both your socks, but then you’d go outside, step in water, and get both your feet wet. But if you only had time to put on two pieces of foot apparel, and chose a sock and a shoe, then you could hop on that one shoe-d foot, and both your feet would stay dry. That response turned Archie apoplectic (actually, most things Mike said turned Archie apoplectic), and the argument devolved into something else.

Now, for some strange reason, that scripted exchange of dialogue has stayed with me for almost 40 years now. I’m guessing that not even the person who wrote it remembers it, but I sure do. That’s why, when I go out running, I put a sock and a shoe on one foot, and then a sock and a shoe on the other foot.

So while one character on “MASH” may have been a big influence on my entire life, two characters on “All in the Family” set the pattern for how I've been putting on shoes for my entire life.

(jim@wmqt), who obviously watched waaaaay too much TV growing up! 8-) )

(ps—speaking of 70s TV shows that influenced both Loraine and me as we were growing up, I was saddened to hear of the passing of Mary Tyler Moore yesterday. Like the shows I mentioned above, her show was one I watched every week and, I'm sure, had some kind of influence upon me, as well.)

Wednesday, 1/25

I wonder if 5 O'Clock Charlie made me the person I am today?

Let me explain. I'm currently reading Norman Lear's autobiography; Norman Lear being the guy who turned television comedy on its head in the 1970s with shows like “All in the Family” and “Maude”. While I did watch several Norman Lear shows growing up (“All in the Family” and “Good Times” foremost among them), they didn't have as much of an effect on me as did two other shows. And it wasn't until I started reading Lear's book that I realized a fictional character named “5 O'Clock Charlie” may be one of the reasons I turned out the way I did.

When I was eleven or twelve I came across a repeat of an episode of a TV show that featured the character “5 O'Clock Charlie”. I was quite taken by the episode and the absurdity of “5 O'Clock Charlie”, so I began watching all the episodes I could of the show, both in first run and reruns, and found myself enchanted by not only the writing but the characters, the way they acted, and what they believed in. All these decades later, I can tell you that I really think watching the show growing up formed a part of who I became, the way I act (especially my sense of humor), and what I believe in.

I turned out the way I did because a toss-off, one-shot character named “5 O'Clock Charlie” was featured on an episode of “MASH”.

I've always known growing up watching “MASH” had a big influence on me, but I never actually realized WHY I watched it. It seems like the show was always on, and it seems like I always watched it. That why I was surprised when I was reading Norman Lear's book and, for some reason, the character of “5 O'Clock Charlie” popped into my head. I've always loved the episode from the show's second year, and I've probably seen it a dozen times over the years. But for whatever reason I never actually remembered that particular episode was my gateway to the show. Why Norman Lear's book made me recall that, I don't know. I just know that it did.

I think I know why the eleven or twelve-year old me liked the episode “5 O'Clock Charlie” so much. It was actually rather goofy and absurd, about a near-sighted North Korean pilot who flew over the unit every day at 5 and tried to blow up a nearby ammo dump. He was so bad that the doctors would take bets on how far off he'd be, and his daily fly-over was cause for a big party. Unlike many of the “MASH” episodes I would like in the future, the first one I watched was more goofy and strange than serious and thoughtful. Maybe if “5 O'Clock Charlie” hadn't been the first episode of the show I watched, the eleven or twelve-year old version of me would've been bored, and I never would've viewed the series again, probably changing the way I turned out.

I could've been a very different person if it hadn't been for “5 O'Clock Charlie”.

I highly recommend Norman Lear's book. Not only does he have all kinds of great TV history in it, but he's an amazing storyteller, as well. And who knows—maybe in reading it, you'll have some sort of weird flashback to the “5 O'Clock Charlie” in your life. You never know...

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 1/24

It's a good thing I didn't go out and buy a snowboard.

For (I think) the second year in a row, the Downtown Marquette Rail Jam has been canceled due to weather. The Rail Jam is when they close off several blocks of Front Street and then set up a snowboard course that runs from the Landmark Inn down to the Vierling. It's amazing in a couple of ways; the day before the event, in fact, when they put the course together seems almost a popular as the event itself.

But not this year. With the warmth we've been having and the warmth we're still scheduled to have the conditions just aren't favorable for it, and the organizers decided to cancel it before investing a lot of time and money into the project. After all, this is what downtown Marquette looks like right now--

This is looking across Front Street, where the course was scheduled to be set up. I took this picture yesterday afternoon...January 23rd.  Yes, JANUARY 23rd.  And if the event is still a week and a half way, a week and a half with temperatures mostly forecast to be above freezing...well, you can see why they made the decision they made.

So far, the other two big winter events in Marquette are still a go. The Noquemanon is Saturday, and the organizers said yesterday they're confident the whole course will still be around and ready to race. I have the feeling this will be one of those years when I'll be announcing the names at the finish line surrounded by mud and snow trucked in from outside the city, but as long as it works, that's what matters. Then there's the UP 200 in three weeks. Hopefully, the conditions will be okay for that, although with the way things are going this year, it wouldn't surprise me if it was 65 and the lilacs were blooming that weekend.

Let's hope not. I mean, you know how much I love lilacs, but I'm thinking February might just be a little too early for them, even this year.

In the meantime, I'll just keep running every morning in shorts and keep my fingers crossed that the rest of Marquette's major winter events go off as planned. Having one causality among them is bad enough; any more than that would border on the tragic.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 1/23

I like the scent. What can I say?

One of my many jobs around our apartment is the washing of dishes. It's something I do every day except one, when Loraine takes over and makes sure that it's actually done right. When she did it this week I was in the other room flipping through the pages of a book. She came into the room with the latest bottle of dishwashing liquid I purchased, held it up, and said, and I quote, “Here's another example of why you are so not a man”.

What? Real men don't use lotus blossom and lavender dishwashing liquid?

First of all, just so you know, a very big running joke between Loraine and me is that I basically do nothing like a “man” would do, and we're both okay with that. So I wasn't shocked by what she said; in fact, it made me laugh. After all, what real “man” would buy his dishwashing liquid because it smelled like lotus blossom & lavender? What real “man” would buy his dishwashing liquid just because it was purple and he liked the color?

Heck—do “real” men even pay attention to things like dishwashing liquid? Do they even know what dishwashing liquid is?

I like washing dishes; I really do. It's a couple of minutes of mindless activity in a day filled with activities where I have to overtax my brain. Sure, often times my brain fails me, but even if it did screw up while washing dishes no one would notice. That's why I like doing things like washing dishes and doing the laundry. And if I'm going to spend a few minutes each day washing the dishes, shouldn't I be using dishwashing liquid that smells good and makes my hands soft all at the same time?

It's like aromatherapy, with the added benefit of giving us clean dishes!

So if you're in the market for a new dishwashing liquid (assuming, of course, you still do dishes by hand), I highly recommend picking up a bottle of Palmolive's Lotus Blossom & Lavender. Not only does it clean your dishes well, but it smells nice, too. And isn't that what everyone looks for in a dishwashing liquid...even a “man”?

Yes, I know I'm hopeless. What's your point?

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 1/20

And now, we enter the next phase of our lives.

Whenever there’s a big, transformative event—be it on a large scale, like today’s inauguration, or on a much more personal scale, like a birth or a wedding or a graduation—we tend to realize, if only for a fleeting moment, that the curtain is coming down on one act of our lives, while at the same time rising on the next. There’s a “before” the event, and an “after” the event. Now, we’re living in the “after”.

For many of us, today’s inauguration put the wraps on a big and important chunk of our lives. For the past eight years, we had a pretty good idea on what was going to happen on any given day. We knew how people near and far would react to things, and we knew what to expect from our leaders and from people around the world. We had certainty.

Now, of course, we're at an “after”. We're entering an entirely different world, with an entirely different cast of characters and an entirely different way of dealing with things. And since absolutely no one seems to know how that entirely different way of dealing with things is going to play out, we're in for an interesting transition from our “before” to our “after”. I hope that, given time, we'll adjust, and we'll have “certainty” in our lives again. It'll be a different certainty—a MUCH different certainty, I'm sure-- but it'll be our new version of “certainty”.

Until, of course, the next “before” and “after” points in our lives, whenever that is and however it comes about. I know some people are hopeful, while many others are fearing for their lives. All I know is that it will not be the same as it has been. I'll leave it to you to decide whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. And that's all I'm gonna say about that for now.

Besides, someone addressed this whole concept  much better than I, especially in his last few paragraphs.

On that note, have a great weekend. We all certainly deserve it.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 1/19

I wonder if the Fit Strip has made me a better skier?

As most of you know, I've been cross-country skiing for over two decades now. But despite my experience in it, I'm not a great skier, or even a highly above average skier. I'm what I would call a “plodder”; I'm not out there for speed, I'm just out there to burn as many calories as I can. I'm not that big on tricks or fancy maneuvers; as long as I can stay upright, I'm cool with that.

And that's why I've always enjoyed skiing at Blueberry Ridge. Not only do they have kilometers upon kilometers of groomed tracks, but even on the medium-difficulty trails there are nice wide curves and hills that aren't too deadly. It's a very forgiving course, one perfectly suited to a plodder.

But because I don't have a car of my own any more, I've had to forgo going out to Blueberry Ridge (Loraine, you see, doesn't want her car scuffed up by skis, which actually might not fit in there anyway). So instead, when I go skiing I just walk over to the Fit Strip and ski the 2 kilometer outside loop a bunch of times.

Now the Fit Strip is nothing like Blueberry Ridge, at least when it comes to skiing. Where Blueberry Ridge has gentle hills and wide curves, the Fit Strip has short steep hills, several of which lead into wicked curves. If you're not careful, you can easily find yourself in a snowbank, a creek bed, or impaled upon a tree branch. Add to that the fact that the trail is often torn up by walkers and/or their dogs (you know, the ones on the Fit Strip despite the fact there are signs that say “no dogs allowed”) and it takes a certain amount of skill & concentration to ski there. You get a great workout, but half of that may come from the adrenaline your body pumps out as you try to stay upright and safe.

That's why when I realized I had to use the Fit Strip as my primary ski location I wasn't sure how the experience would be. Like I said, I'm a plodder, and the Fit Strip is really best for skiers who know what they're doing and are good at it. But because the Fit Strip is the only place I've skied for two or three years now, I've started noticing something--

I no longer fear the hills or the curves or even the footprints that have destroyed what used to be a groomed track. I've started to handle them without even thinking. The experience of skiing on the Fit Strip for a couple of years now has, I honestly believe, made me a better cross-country skier.

I'm as shocked as the next person, but a little happy, too. I'm nowhere near good enough to, say, go out and take part in a cross country ski race, nor would I want to try and ski a technically difficult course, but whatever apprehension I may have had seems to be disappearing by leaps & bounds every time I go out there. I don't know if it's because I'm a better skier or if it's just because I've conquered my fears and am no longer as big of a baby, but I think I'm a better skier.

Who knew?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 1/18

I had entirely forgotten about a crack I made on the episode of “High School Bowl” that aired this past weekend. There was a question that neither team was able to answer, so I replied to it this way--

“The answer would be Midas.  (pause for effect) You know, the patron saint of mufflers”.

The kids looked kind of confused, like they had no idea what I was talking about, while the audience slightly groaned, after which I shot them a look perfectly captured by the director of the show. We moved on and, like I said, I had entirely forgotten about it until watching the show with Loraine Saturday.

Since then, I've heard from two people about the joke. One came into the station to pick up a prize and commented on how she laughed when I said it. She also wondered if it was something I had prepared ahead of time, and I had to tell her that it wasn't. It was just something that came out of my mouth when no one knew the answer to the question. That happens every once in a while; I have no idea what I say until after I've said it. I don't know if that's a blessing or a curse (although I'm guessing the latter), but it happens.

Then yesterday I received a friendly e-mail from someone who said she although she admired the fact that I came up with the joke, she said she (like the studio audience) audibly groaned when I said it. She went on to say, and I quote, “I'd fire your writer if I were you”. I had to reply this way--

“I would fire my writer, except he's been with me for a long, long time and knows where all the (metaphorical) bodies are buried. Besides, that writer for me quite cheaply, as is readily apparent by some of the material that leaves my mouth.”

I will be the first to admit that it was not the world's greatest joke. In fact, it probably doesn't even fall within the parameters of the world's one million greatest jokes. And the fact that most of the audience either didn't get it or thought it was slightly on the stupid side proves that point. And it's just basically a ripoff of a joke I told on the radio a long time ago, when I claimed that Mercury was actually the god of flower delivery. So if nothing else...

It proves that I love the obscure reference. That I have a very bizarre sense of humor. And that people actually do pay attention to the weird things that come out of my mouth. As always, thanks for the kind (and funny) notes. Keep 'em coming, whether the jokes are good, bad, or just plain weird!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 1/17

I find it quite funny that we both came up with the exact same answer at the exact same moment.

Loraine's currently reading a book by another Koski, Negaunee's Allen Koski (no relation), who wrote about his father's experiences in the Pacific during World War II. In the book, Koski wrote about one of his father's bases on an island, and used the word “lagoon”. For some bizarre reason, when she mentioned that he had written that word, we both piped up, almost simultaneously...

“You mean like on 'Gilligan's Island'”?

Think of it—when was the last time you heard the word “lagoon” in a non 'Gilligan's Island” context? Unless you're watching “Creature from the Black Lagoon” or “Blue Lagoon”, I'm guessing it was quite a while ago. Even though “lagoon” is a perfectly valid word, it's not used that much. It's not something that comes up in typical conversation, and unless you've studied geology or geography, odds are you weren't even taught what a “lagoon” actually is.

So thank goodness for “Gilligan's Island”.

For a sitcom as universally derided as “Gilligan”, it actually exposed the people who watched it to a lot of things to which they might not have otherwise been exposed. I mean, sure, the show taught you that if you're going on a three-hour cruise it's okay to bring a steamer truck full of clothing, but it also taught us what a lagoon is. It taught us that if you don't have Vitamin C, you can get sick. And it exposed us to the music of “Carmen” and the poetry of “Hamlet”, both in the same episode.

And therein lies the magic of “Gilligan's Island”.

Sure, the plots were stupid, the 3 characters woefully underdeveloped, and the amount of people who passed through what was ostensibly a “lost” island boggled the mind. But every once in a while, either because the writers couldn't help themselves or because knowledge will find a way to leak through even the most mindless of entertainment, we learned about opera and healthy eating and, most importantly, lagoons.

Who knew?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 1/16

Because I have a very weird and wacky schedule and have to be somewhere before (literally) the sun rises today, I'm gonna leave you with something that I wrote two or three Martin Luther King Days ago. The sad thing is that it's probably even more apt than ever these days.

Back tomorrow with something brand new...specifically, how a 60s sitcom warped us all forever.

(jim@wmqt.com)

*****

(as originally posted January 20^th, 2014)

Happy Martin Luther King Day!

Those of you who have been reading this for a long time know of my deep admiration for the man in whose honor we have a holiday today. And while most people know the Classics Illustrated version of his story--the March on Washington, the “I Have a Dream” speech, and his assassination--I have the feeling that not enough people know about how he led one of the most profound changes in this country’s history, and how the words he spoke throughout that long & contentious change still resonate today.

And that’s a bad thing.

Now, I’m not gonna go off on a rant on how everyone should go out and spend the day studying about his life; after all, you all have your own life to worry about. But every year I like to share a quote of his that may not be quite as famous as “I Have a Dream”. And when looking through some material about him over the weekend, I found one that made me laugh, and not necessarily in a good way.

Here it is--

“Rarely do we find men who willingly engage in hard, solid thinking. There is an almost universal quest for easy answers and half-baked solutions. Nothing pains some people more than having to think.”

It comes, if I’m not mistaken, from his book “Strength to Love”. If you didn’t know that was written 51 years ago, you’d think he was talking about politics and of the partisan divide of American electorate today. Or that he was talking about one of the endless ways many Americans just seem to want to float through life without challenging themselves.

Now, I know I’m out of the ordinary. God, do I know I’m out of the ordinary. But it seems to me that going through life trying to take the path of least resistance--the “easy” way out--is nothing more than cheating yourself and cheating the people around you. After all, we all have a finite amount of time on this planet. Shouldn’t we make sure that the time we do have is put to good use? Shouldn’t we continue to learn and give ourselves new experiences?

Sadly, most people don’t put their limited time on this planet to good use. Did you know that 35% of Americans, once they graduate from high school, never read a book again? I mean, really? How can you hope to learn--how can you hope to challenge yourself, to better yourself--if you don’t read? Another great American philosopher (I’ll tell you who in a second) once said “TV has all the answers”. And sadly, I think too many people believe that. Too many people sit and watch and blindly follow the marching orders of their favorite partisan news channel or their favorite reality TV star and never stop to think or to question for themselves. There’s more to life than what you watch or what you’re told by TV, although I don’t think the philosopher who said that “TV has all the answers” would agree.

Especially because that philosopher is Homer Simpson.

So in honor of Dr. King, think for yourself today. Challenge yourself today. Prove that our universal quest doesn’t lie in easy answers, but that it lies in people willing to search for the hard truths.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 1/13 (!)

I have to go run & do that TV thing in a few minutes, but I have to share with you a picture Loraine shared with me--

This picture wasn't taken by me. I wish the picture was taken by me, but it wasn't. It was taken by a Facebook friend of Loraine's from Normandy named Jean Ferrolliet, and I am in awe of several things. I'm in awe of the way the picture is framed, I'm in awe of the cows, and I'm in awe of the Normandy landscapes. I'm not so much in awe of the snow, but even I have to admit that it does add a little something to the picture. Like us, western and central Europe have been visited by snow the past few days; unlike us, they're really not used to it, which is why I'm guessing it looks—at least to me—like the cows are shivering.

They look like they're shivering to you, too, right? It's not just me? Please tell me it's not just me.

8-)

On that note, I have to get out of here. Have yourself a great weekend. And if you see any cows, make sure they're not shivering, okay?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 1/12

Does anybody even write that way any more?

I've just finished reading a book called “Obsolete: An Encyclopedia of Once Common Things”, written by Jane Grossman, a book that deals with things that were once ubiquitous but are now rarely used anymore, everything from dial telephones to, well, encyclopedias. It was a fun read, and it was amazing how many of the items described as obsolete were items that I once used.

It almost made me feel “old” for a second!

Anyway, one of the items discussed as being obsolete was cursive writing. Despite the fact that I have to sign my name four or five times a day on legal documents for the station, and despite the fact that when I sign my name I sign it in cursive, I have to admit that aside from the letters that make up “James S. Koski” I would have absolutely no idea how to write a word or a sentence in cursive. Aside from those eight letters that comprise my name, I couldn't write a word in cursive if my life depended on it

So hopefully it won't any time soon!

In fact, aside from the technical logs that I have to sign in four different places every day at work, about the only other document on which I have to write cursive—and that's just to sign my name—is when I make out a check. I'll sign my name in cursive, but write everything else out like a normal person, in regular script. Of course, speaking of things that are (almost) obsolete, I can't even remember the last time I wrote out a check. I have bill pay for bills, use credit cars when I shop, and on those rare occasions when I have to write out a check I stare at it like it's some sort of extraterrestrial hieroglyph and try to remember what I have to write where.

Luckily, I have a wife who works in banking and can tell me what goes where. Or at least she does when she's finished laughing at my total ignorance of matters financial.

I should ask my nieces about this, because I'm curious, but do they even teach cursive writing in schools any more? I would think that computer keyboard skills are about a zillion times more important to learn than writing in some sort of flowery script, but I have no idea. Whenever Courtney or Mallory or Sydney leave me hand-written notes it's usually in block printing, the same way I write whenever I actually have to hand-write something. Seeing as how it's been deemed “obsolete” maybe cursive isn't even taught any more, much in the way you no longer have to teach kids how to plow a field with an ox or teach budding doctors on the ethics of using leeches.

Like I said, hopefully I won't have to hand-write anything in cursive any time soon. Because if I do, I'll probably need a couple of bottles of Wite-Out lying around. Oh, wait...Wite-Out was in that “Obsolete” book, too.

Guess if I do have to write something in cursive any time soon I'm just plain out of luck!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 1/11

As I do every year, I did it as a little tip of the hat to my grandfather. I mean, I don't actually wear a hat, so it wasn't a literal “tip', but you get the idea, right?

My grandfather died thirty years ago, but in a way I see him every day. You know those ungainly long legs and arms I'm always complaining about? They come from him. The sunken eyes, too. I'm sure that I picked up a few of my odd quirks and idiosyncrasies from him, as well. Those quirks may be lurking in the background, or they may present themselves out in the open like one in particular that happens every Christmas Day.

And that's what I'm talking about here.

When I was a kid, my grandfather would slowly unwrap his gifts and then, if at all humanly possible, put the present back in the wrapping paper and make it look as close to an unwrapped gift as he could. I don't know why; all I know is he did it, and it made him happy. I grew up watching him do it, and probably pretty much every year since he passed away, I've tried to carry on the tradition.

Here's this year's example--

Because I have nowhere near the skill level that he had, I always have to try it with a book. I'll slowly undo the tape (much to Loraine's consternation, who just wants me to get on with it), pull the book out, see what it is, thank who gave it to me, and then slip the book back into the wrapping paper, where it sits in its little cage acting as my little tribute to my grandfather, at least until I open it again to read the book, which I did last night (but not before taking the picture you see above).

Yeah, I know. I need help.

8-)

There's no real reason for me to do it other than to carry on a rather weird tradition, but you know what? For me, at least, it wouldn't seem like Christmas without doing it. And then every year in January when I re-unwrap the gift, I smile a little smile and think back to a guy who left an impression on me, not only with those long arms & legs I see every day, but in a much more quirky way, as well.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 1/10

You know what? It's not as strange as I thought it would be.

We've had the discussion in here before about how some people don't think I'm a Yooper because I don't do certain things in my life. Doesn't matter that I was born in the U.P. and have spent most of my life in the area. Just because of how and where I live my life, there are some people who don't think I'm a true Yooper.

And it's true. I'm not a stereotypical Yooper. I don't hunt, I don't drive a truck, I don't have a 3 or 4-wheeler, and I live in Marquette, which some people seem to think automatically disqualifies one from even being considered a Yooper. But I've now done something that plays into the Yooper stereotype, and you know what?

It's even something that I'll do again.

In a couple of weeks, you'll start seeing episodes of “High School Bowl” in which the Trenary Home Bakery is a question sponsor, which means that the dorky host has to read their names. Well, as you may know, the dorky host sometimes forgets to read those lines, which led my Mom to give me a light-hearted and very sweet Christmas gift, one ostensibly from my newborn nephew Abel. She included a note that said something along the lines of “Uncle Jimmy, please remember to read the sponsor names so that someday I can be on your show”. And she attached that note to a bag of the Trenary Home Bakery's most famous product, Trenary Toast.

A product that, believe it or not, I had never sampled.

Shocking, isn't it? And maybe even more ammunition to those who don't think I'm a Yooper. But, for whatever reason, I have not in my long life ever had the chance to try this true Yooper delicacy...at least until I was given the bag for Christmas. So this past weekend I opened it up, grabbed a slice, and much to my joy and/or amazement, actually enjoyed it.

Who knew?

Now, technically, I haven't yet tried what some might consider “real” Trenary Toast. The bag I was given was of their vanilla-flavored product, and seeing as how I love vanilla-flavored products, maybe that played a little into how much I enjoyed it. But that shouldn't matter. I have no eaten Trenary Toast, and to quote a great American philosopher, I liked it. The hardness of the product didn't bother me, even though I didn't dunk it in anything, and the touch of vanilla to go along with the cinnamon they use was actually rather sublime. If I knew they had the vanilla flavored toast, maybe I would've tried it a while ago.

Not that that matters. I've now tried Trenary Toast, and I have to admit I'm a fan. Whether or not that makes me more of a Yooper, I'm not quite sure. But that doesn't play into it one way or the other. I've tried it, and I like it.

So thanks, Abel. And thanks Mom, too!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 1/9

It's amazing how a good piece of clothing can make you feel.

New Year's Day, Loraine and I were at Kohl's so she could use a gift card she got for Christmas. While she was looking for shoes, I wandered over to the men's department and looked at suit jackets. As you may recall, with my slight frame and my extra long arms, I have trouble finding suit jackets that actually fit me. If I find one that fits my torso the sleeves go halfway up my forearm. If I find one with sleeves that are long enough, the torso is two or three sizes too big. It's a problem I always have, and it's one of the reasons I was strolling through the men's section at Kohl's.

While looking at jackets, and playing the usual “too short/too big” game, I came across one that caught my eye. It was in a gorgeous charcoal color, and was a “slim fit” jacket, which you don't often see. And because it was slim fit, I dug through the racks, found one that had sleeves that were long enough, and put it on. Because it was slim fit, it fit my torso perfectly, and because it had long sleeves, my arms were covered the way they should be.

It was like they had tailored the jacket just for me. Keeping it on, I went to find Loraine, who looked at it and said, “it makes you look so skinny”, which is something everyone likes to hear. She then asked how much it cost, something I hadn't even looked at, and my heart almost sank.

It cost a lot. Well, maybe not a lot to some people, but it was more than I've ever paid for a suit jacket. So I took it off and put it back on the rack, joining Loraine as she was looking for a pair of pants to go along with her new shoes. My mind, though, kept returning to that jacket, and in either a moment of weakness or a moment of liberation, I went back and bought it.

And am I glad I did.

It fits me perfectly. Unlike every other suit jacket I own, the arms are the right length, and the cut makes me look like I actually have a torso worth showing off. I wore it for the first time last Friday taping “High School Bowl”, and had several students (and student moms in the audience) tell me how nice I looked. I'd like to think that I don't have much of an ego, that it doesn't matter how people think I look, but you know what?

Apparently I do.

I never would've thought that one piece of clothing could make a person feel so good about how they look, but for whatever reason, that suit jacket does it for me. The cut, the color, the...everything about it is just perfect. Who knew? Even though that one piece of clothing cost more than any, oh, four items in my wardrobe, I think it was worth it. You know that old saying about “you get what you paid for”?

I'm glad I paid for it.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 1/6

Because I have to haul my butt out in the freezing weather in a few minutes to tape the first “High School Bowl” of 2017, I'm gonna leave you with something you may have read before...at least if you were reading these back in 2013.

Back on Monday with new stuff...assuming, of course, my typing fingers don't freeze off this weekend. Stay warm!!

(jim@wmqt.com)

*****

(as originally posted 1/15/13):

It’s not as much as you think it is. Trust me on that one.

I guess I wrote about chocolate in here on occasion, right? I mean, sure, when I say “occasion” I actually mean “writing about it so much that it borderlines on pathological obsession”, but I write about chocolate in here, and I mention it quite often on the air, as well. So when someone asked me yesterday just how much chocolate I eat in a week and I gave them my answer, they actually refused to believe me.

Trust me, though--I wasn’t lying!

I know some people seem to think that I eat nothing but chocolate, including the person who asked me the question, but it’s not true. If you look at my chocolate consumption on a weekly basis, you’d probably be stunned. This doesn’t happen every week--some weeks I eat more, many more weeks I eat less--but on average, I’ll enjoy a three ounce (100 gram) bar from Europe on the weekend, and then parcel out another 3-ounce bar of dark chocolate the rest of the week, eating one (or two) pieces a day at work. So on average, I eat two chocolate bars a week.

Not the two or three bars a day the person who asked the question assumed!

Actually, I don’t know if anyone could eat that much chocolate in a day; not only would your health probably suffer quite a bit, but if you ate that much chocolate it seems like you’d get sick of it fairly quickly. At least I know I’D get sick of it fairly quickly if I ate that much on a daily basis. Nope; I’m quite happy with the amount that I eat each week. And I’m even happier with the quality of that amount!

Take this week, for example. On Saturday and Sunday I consumed a bar I bought in Germany (from Heilemann, I think) that was marzipan covered by dark chocolate. It was heavenly; in fact, I plan on picking up more when we go back this summer. Then during the week I’ve been nibbling on a Ghirardelli Intense Dark bar, made of 72% dark chocolate goodness (the perfect percentage for all those good antioxidants dark chocolate provides). I’ll finish that Friday, and that’ll be my chocolate consumption for this seven day period.

Surprised? I hope I haven’t misled you guys all these years. I mean, sure, I write about chocolate a lot because I have a bit of a passion for it. But maybe--just maybe--I may have, well, misinterpreted the depth of my passion for it. I don’t consume mass quantities. For one thing, if I ate as much chocolate as I sometimes infer, I’d probably weigh twice what I weigh now. And like I said, if I ate as much chocolate as I infer, I’d be sick of it by now. I mean, I love chocolate as much as the next person, but I also like fruits and vegetables and everything else that’s included in a balanced diet.

I’m almost being blasphemous when I say this, but there IS more to life than chocolate, despite what & how I may write in here on occasion. So now you know the truth--two bars a week, max. Just try not to hold it against me the next time I go off on a great new bar I’ve tried, okay?

8-)

Thursday, 1/5

While I enthusiastically agree with the sentiment, I'm not quite sure I agree with the end result.

Let me explain. Over the holidays, I read an article online from Slate magazine in which the writer talked about the run of classic albums Stevie Wonder produced during the 1970s, five albums (three of which won Grammy awards for Album of the Year) that rank among the best ever recorded. Like I said, I enthusiastically agree with that statement. The albums are among the best ever recorded. But what I didn't agree with was the idea that the last of the five albums, “Songs in the Key Of Life”, an album that produced classics like “Sir Duke” and “I Wish”, was, and I quote Jack Hamilton, the dude who wrote the article, “perhaps the most ambitious work ever made by a pop star at the height of his or her powers ”.

Now, you guys know how much I like Stevie Wonder. Lord knows I've written about him in here enough. And while I'll certainly agree that Stevie Wonder is a genius and “Songs” is an amazing album, is it REALLY “perhaps the most ambitious work ever made by a pop star at the height of his or her powers ”? I might personally posit that it's not even Wonder's best album (hello, “Innervisions”). And when I re-read that statement, I had these albums pop into my head--

-Marvin Gaye's “What's Going On”

-Brian Wilson's “Pet Sounds” for the Beach Boys

-Pete Townshend's “Tommy” for The Who

-Prince's “Purple Rain”

-Bruce Springsteen's “Born in the USA”

Who's to say that you couldn't make the very same claim about any of those five albums, plus the others that didn't pop into my head in the 30 seconds to which I devoted any thought to the subject? “Songs in the Key of Life” is a great album, well deserving of the Grammy for Album of the Year and the two number one songs that sprang forth from it. But is it appreciably that much better than any of those I listed? Is it any more groundbreaking, revolutionary, or hit filled than any of those five?

I don't know.

I always feel uncomfortable when someone makes an “absolute” statement—something is the best ever, or “everyone” thinks a certain way about a certain thing. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that there are no “absolutes” in life. Yes, I think Stevie Wonder is an amazing artist, and he's one of my favorite singers ever. But as much as I admire him and love his work, I'm still uncomfortable that “Songs in the Key of Life” is, and I once again quote, “perhaps the most ambitious work ever made by a pop star at the height of his or her powers ”. Maybe it's a personality quirk/fault on my part. Maybe I'm just weird that way.

It certainly wouldn't be the first time, you know.

But like I said, “Songs” is an amazing album. Don't believe me? Then listen--

Amazing, right? Incredible, no? But “it is perhaps the most ambitious work ever made by a pop star at the height of his or her powers ”? For me, at least, the jury's still out on that one.

(jim@wmqt.com), once again overthinking things waaaaay too much.

Wednesday, 1/4

It’s weird what pops into your head without warning.

I was out running yesterday morning, as I’m wont to do. The snow was falling; while it wasn't heavy it hadn’t been cleaned up yet, and the end result was like trying to run four miles on a sandy beach. It was hard work, but I managed to do it.

Several times while I was running I had a brief thought float through my head, the brief thought being that I would never finish the run. I knew there was no logic behind the thought, because I knew I WOULD finish, but the third or fourth time the thought popped up I flashed back to another time I thought I would never finished a trek through the snow, a time and an occasion I hadn’t thought about for decades.

When I was nine or ten years old (or somewhere around there) I had to walk down to the area around NMU once a week for something (and I don’t remember what that something was, only that I was in or around the University Center). I was a student at Whitman at the time, which means my family lived on the 1100 block of Norway Avenue. Once I finished school for the day, once a week I had to walk down to NMU for something, and then walk home when I was done. That’s how you did it in the early 70s, at least in my world. You walked.

Anyway, while I was out running as an adult yesterday I flashed back upon those days; specifically, upon a day when I had to walk back from NMU when it had been snowing quite a bit. Now, remember that I was nine or ten at the time, but for some reason I seem to recall that the snow was so deep and so hard to walk through that, at the time, I thought it would take me hours to get home (if, in fact, I ever did make it home). Every step seemed like it took all my energy—kind of like running in the snow yesterday—and the distance I still had yet to travel seemed insurmountable.

At least that’s what it seemed like to me at the time. Obviously, I eventually made it home the seven or eight blocks with no problem. The journey probably didn’t even take that long. It’s just that, at that time and with the snow, it seemed like those seven or eight blocks were half way around the world. Sure, I know now, as an adult, that I could walk that distance in ten minutes; heck, I could even probably run it in two minutes. But when you’re nine or ten and staring a seemingly endless journey in the face, it must make an impression on you.

Or, at least enough of an impression that you flash back to it over four decades later, for no reason other than it’s snowing again and the journey in front of you once again seems endless. The human mind is a delightfully weird piece of equipment, isn’t it?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 1/3

It’s only two days late, but I’ve started to use my 2017 calendars!

I actually received three of them, if you wanna count the giant wall calendar at work. That one’s in my office and it’s how I keep track of everything that’s going on in my life, at least to the extent that I keep track of everything going on in my life. Another of the calendars is the one Loraine gets me every year, one that features a different region of France in pictures each month. Must like past years, a few of the places highlighted (highlit?) are places that we usually visit are on this calendar, which is always cool, plus it features beauty shots of French food and French places. How can you go wrong with that?

The third calendar I have? Well, that’s the 2017 edition of “365 Stupidest Things Ever Said calendar, a calendar I get every year for Christmas. I’ve asked for it for, oh, the past 15 or so years, and every year I have this pre New Year’s tradition--I sit down, pull out the calendar, and read each and every page of it in one sitting. This accomplishes a great thing--there’s a point where the cumulative effect of all that stupidity catches up with me, and whatever control I have dissolves in a big puddle. I start laughing uncontrollably, with tears running down my eyes, and for the next couple of minutes, I’m unable to do nothing else. Loraine then just stares at me for a second, and shakes her head the way she’d shake her head at a puppy trying to chase its tail and accidentally running itself head-first into a wall.

Except I do it on purpose.

The page that set me off this year? Well, there were actually two of them, and read by themselves they’re not necessarily that funny, but when you consider I’d just read 200 or so other pages of stupid stuff; well, like I said, the cumulative effect was just something else. The first was this newspaper headline--

“Ohio residents cautioned against using toilet bowl cleaner in their hair”

I wasn’t aware of it, but that must be a big problem in the Buckeye State. The other? The statement from a “High Yield” account at a bank, which had, at the start of the month, a total of $688 in it. At the end of the month?

$688.02.

Yup, that’s quite the high yield!

Like I said, in and of themselves those two items aren’t gut-busting, but when placed near the end of a long line of stupid quotes, sayings, and newspaper headlines, it was the trigger that set my annual bout of self-induced hysteria off. And yes, I know I need help. What’s your point?

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)