Friday, 3/31

Geez, what am I gonna do this weekend? After all, for the first time in almost a month I actually have a “weekend”.

Weird, huh?

After being in Florida last weekend, doing TV the weekend before that, having to work part of the weekend before that, and doing something I don't even remember any more the weekend before that, I actually have nothing on the schedule for this weekend. Once I get done with work tonight I don't think I need to be anywhere or do anything until I go to work Monday morning. And at this moment, I'm not really sure if my system can handle the shock.

I will, however, try my best to deal with it.

I really shouldn't complain. I mean, aside from having to work a couple of weekends ago, everything I described above was a lot of fun. I mean, heck...I got to walk on a sunny and hot beach last weekend, after all. And I wouldn't mind trading all of my winter and spring weekends for something like that. So I guess that's why it's kind of weird, for the lack of a better word, to have nothing scheduled for this weekend. I can do all the laundry that's been piling up. I can finish unpacking.  I can pick up a dark chocolate and key lime bar from my friend Davin. And, most importantly, I don't need to look at a clock or pick up a phone the entire weekend if I don't feel like it.

After all, isn't that what a weekend is supposed to be like?

So while, unfortunately, I won't be on a hot & sunny beach again this weekend, I'll guess I'll have to take the next best thing. And that's a weekend with nothing to do.

Hope your weekend us just as good. And I hope April Fools' Day is kind to you, as well!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 3/30

You know how Tom Petty says “the waiting is the hardest part”. Well, it's not.

The unpacking is the hardest part.

I don't know why, but whenever I get home from a trip, even a short one like this past weekend, it takes me a while to get everything out of the suitcase, carry-on, and/or backpack I've been using, and put it all away. I'm not quite sure what drives some people to unpack as soon as they get home; I know I couldn't do it. Heck, after a 24-hour trip home from Europe unpacking is the last thing on my mind. So maybe it's not a surprise that it usually takes me a few days to haul everything out and put everything away.

For instance—while the carry-on I brought down to Florida is empty of the clothing it contained, it's still filled with the souvenirs I brought back (minus the ones I gave to Loraine). Likewise, while I took my small laptop out of my backpack, it's still filled with everything else I had, including but not limited to some chocolate, a National Geographic I haven't yet finished reading, and my bag of liquids, which I haven't even thought about until typing this sentence.

Don't let me forget to put those away, if you wouldn't mind.

I'm sure everything from this trip will be away by later tonight, unlike one of those trips to Europe, when it make take almost a week or as long as it takes us to get sick of looking at our suitcases, whichever comes first. But maybe that's not a surprise when you're trying to get your body clock readjusted to American time, dealing with whatever crap has come up at work, and trying to stop your head from spinning because you've just come a quarter of the way around the planet.

That's the excuse I have for then. I really don't have one for now. And that's why I'm hoping the unpacking will be done tonight. Wish me luck. Given my history, I may need it.

((jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 3/29

How much do I enjoy flying? Well, even though I'm on a plane with crying kids, screaming kids, more crying kids, and kids who are hacking their lungs out, I can just stare out the window and zone out by letting the world glide by below me.

THAT'S how much I like flying.

Greetings from 33,000 feet above (with apologies to country music fans) the Florida-Georgia line, on my way back to Marquette from a few days visiting my parents. As you may remember what I wrote before I left, I wanted to accomplish three things. I wanted to see my parents, I wanted to spend some time in the heat and the sun, and I wanted to see the most glorious flying machine ever built. Well, guess what?

Done, done, and done.

While I didn't have a lot of time down there I made the most of it, aided by clear skies and temperatures in the middle 80s each day I was there. I got there Saturday night, spend all day Sunday playing outside (and have the skin tone to show it), and then spent all day Monday acting like a 7-year old at one of the world's greatest playground for space nerds. I even got a little more warmth in this (Tuesday) morning before heading back to a place where, sadly, it's only 40 or so degrees cooler than it was when I woke up.

Oh well. You can't have everything. Besides, to quote a great American philosopher, where would you put it?

My parents winter in Melbourne Beach, so it only makes sense that one of the first places I'd go would be the beach, right? All I had to do was this one simple act, and another of my trip objectives was accomplished--

I spent most of the day walking the beach with my parents, borrowing my dad's bike for a ride in the sun, and taking a whole bunch of pictures, including birds--

Trees that look like birds--

And an amazing sunset as viewed from down the street from where my parents live--

Then Monday, we headed north and I became that 7-year old again as we went to the Kennedy Space Center, where the rest of the kids and I played to our heart's content. Don't believe me? This was within the first ten minutes of walking in--

I actually hadn't planned on sitting in the mock up of the Gemini capsule, just like I didn't plan later on sitting in the mock up of the Apollo capsule or the mock up of the shuttle control cabin. It just kinda happened. You know how that goes, right?

Please tell me you know how that goes.

We took the bus tour out to the Apollo Center, where one of the three remaining Saturn Five boosters still exists--

As does the actual Apollo 14 command module that went to the moon & back--

Then, of course, came the piece de resistance, designed for maximum effect. You go up a circular walkway, watch a video, go through a door, watch another video, and then as the music swells as the end of that video, a huge door rises and you see this--

I almost cried.

Even more than I imagined, Atlantis is breathtaking. Given the chance, I could've spent hours just walking around the ship and staring, my jaw constantly agape. The orbiter itself is bigger than I thought, while at the same time the nose section—the portion that carried the crew—seems so tiny compared to the rest of the ship. You could see the scars of 33 mission on Atlantis, but that actually seemed to give the ship a personality. Everywhere you looked you noticed little dings on some of the thermal tiles, and you could also see the accumulated wear and tear on the ingress hatch (where the crew came and went). But the ship looked like it could easily fly another 33 missions.

It's just too bad it never had the chance.

So, that accomplished, my mission to Florida (and its three objectives) was complete (and that's not even counting the pumpkin pie my mom made as a surprise). I don't ever think I can thank my parents enough for the past few days, especially for putting up with my regression back to the 7-year old version of Jim. Although, as my mom did say, she learned more about the US. space program from my non-stop babbling than she ever would've from a tour guide, so maybe it was good for something.

So thanks for everything, mom & dad. See what all those space books and models you bought me as a kid turned into?

Now, it's back to reality. Although at least it's back to reality with a tan, a flash drive full of pictures, a backpack full of souvenirs, and a grin that just won't leave my face.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 3/24

Atlantis, here I come.

Don't worry; I'm not venturing to a mythical and lost sunken continent, although that might be kinda cool. Instead, I'm heading down to Florida for a few days tomorrow to accomplish three very important things—see my parents, bask in a little heat, and visit the Kennedy Space Center, where the space shuttle Atlantis lies in stately repose.

That's the Atlantis to which I'm referring. So if you're a Facebook friend of mine and your newsfeed gets overrun with pictures of Atlantis (or pictures of Atlantis with a dork standing near it) Monday, let me apologize in advance.

Some people get excited over which way the toilet paper roll is supposed to hang. I get excited over old spacecraft.

You won't hear me on the air or read a new one of these Monday or Tuesday; hope that's okay. When I mentioned to someone that I'd be gone for a few days they told me that I'm not allowed to NOT be on the radio for a few days, like the world would stop spinning on its axis, or something. Hopefully, they'll survive. When I go to Europe for a week and a half, I make sure there's all kinds of “best of” stuff on the air, plus I write a trip blog every day. But for the two days I'll be gone now?

Sorry. Hope no one goes through withdrawal, or anything.

Flying back Tuesday I actually have a semi-long flight from Orlando to Chicago and then a long-ish wait in Chicago. And since I'm bringing a small computer with me I'll probably write Wednesday's blog and then post it early, so if you really want to see pictures of Atlantis (and whatever else looks interesting) you can check it out then. Otherwise, I'll be back Wednesday with everything as it normally is, including, I'm guessing, me whining because it isn't the 80 degrees in Marquette that it's supposed to be while I'm in Florida.

So have yourself a good weekend, and stay warm. I know I will!

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com), back with a new blog on Tuesday evening or Wednesday morning!

Thursday, 3/23

Wow. I guess it really IS a big deal to some people!

I received a whole bunch of notes following yesterday's blog about which way the toilet paper is supposed to go. It seems like people are either an “under” or an “over”. There are very few of us who just shrug our shoulders and let the toilet paper lie where it may.

Who knew?

Daily blog reader Connie in Marquette says that she's an “under” married to an “over”, and that she's been trying to train him for over 10 years now to put a new roll up the “proper” way. He obviously must not be a very good learner, either, because Connie says “she's still working on it”. Of course, Connie's dealing with her husband, someone who actually lives in the house. Daily blog reader Glen in South Dakota says that he's had house guests change the roll when they use his bathroom while visiting.

That's taking the whole matter a little too seriously, isn't it?

Several of you also noticed a plethora of stories about The Great Toilet Paper Controversy on the internet, and sent along links. Daily blog reader daily blog reader Jody from Marquette actually found an entire website that's devoted to the whole controversy.

And just as a side thought to Jody's website (and its domain name), isn't “www.professortoilet.com” perhaps the greatest web domain name in history? If nothing else, it certainly describes a large chunk of what you'll find on the Internet.

I'm just sayin'!

So I guess this is just a controversy that's existed for years, and will probably be around for as long as the human species exists (or at least as long as the human species uses items like toiler paper). Don't worry, though; I won't judge. It doesn't matter to me if you're an under or an over. I'll like you no matter what.

Promise!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 3/22

Which way does your toilet paper hang?

I ask this because, unbeknownst to me, a huge controversy regarding which way your toilet paper roll is “supposed” to hang once you put it up has yet again come to the fore. I noticed it on Facebook yesterday  (much like the "typing dinosaur" thing of a few days ago) after one of my friends posted something about it, knowing that she would stir up a little controversy by doing so. There's apparently a large, vocal group of people who are adamant that the tube must hang with the paper coming over the top of the roll. There's another large, vocal group of people who insist that the tube must hang with the paper coming from the bottom of the roll. And as far as I can tell, a member of one of those very vocal groups will never, ever agree that the other group is correct.

You thought politics in this country was splitting the nation in two? Heck, that's child's play compared to how you hang your toilet paper!

I myself could not care less which way the roll is hung. If the paper comes off the top, fine. If the paper comes off the bottom, that's equally as fine. After all, it's just toilet paper. There are way too many problems in the world on which people should be concentrating and devoting their time and energy to solving. But which way the toilet paper hangs?

Probably not so much.

Of course, and as usual, I seem to be the oddball out in this situation. I didn't realize this was a problem. I didn't realize people had such strong feelings about the subject. I didn't realize that this was situation that's tearing at the very fabric of our country. But apparently, after reading some of the comments people have posted on Facebook posts and under news articles on the subject, it is. In fact, there are a ton of websites devoted to which was is “right” and which way is “wrong”. So in the future, when you sit down with your extended family at a holiday dinner, here are the topics you should NOT bring up while eating--

Religion.

Politics.

Toilet paper.

That's okay. You can thank me later.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 3/21

I'm doing it again. I keep listening to the same song over and over and over and over.

And over.

I've written in here before about how I seem to get into this weird groove where I listen to the same song again and again and again for no reason at all. It doesn't happen very often, but when it does happen, it happens with a surprising intensity.

And this time, it's thanks to John Mayer.

It's a song off of a forthcoming album he has, a song with one of the weirdest titles ever, “Emoji of a Wave”. According to my iTunes program, I've now listened to it 28 times in the past two days, and that's not even counting how many times I listened to it over and over on my iPod while running yesterday.. And it's funny; it's not necessarily a song that you think you'd listen to over & over. It's not filled with hooks or horns or a stomping beat, three things that seem to play into these little weird grooves into which I fall. Nope; it's a simple song with just the singer, his guitar, former Beach Boy Al Jardine and his son Matt on background vocals, and some strings. That's it.

And yet, the song has taken over my brain.

I'm not quite sure why, although when I first told Loraine about my latest “addiction” I blurted out that the song seems very “zen”, and maybe that's the key to it. The first time I listened to it I was intrigued by the simplicity of it, and pretty soon that simplicity hijacked my brain. I listen to it and zone out a little. My brain goes to a place it hasn't often visited. It's like when you meditate and you (theoretically) find yourself in harmony with your body. For me, listening to the song does that.

And I don't even have to assume the lotus pose.

I don't know why the song does that to me. It's just another of the numerous things I seem to do that makes no sense. All I know is that I can throw the song on, and assuming my co-workers, a barking dog, or a driver not paying attention to pedestrians don't interrupt me, something happens to me. And for once, that something that happens is something that's probably good for me, assuming anything that zens you out is good for your mental health.

Unless, of course, John Mayer is trying to take over my mind. In which case, he's succeeded. But in this case, I'll happily submit, at least if I can keep listening to the song.

Check it out for yourself...but if it hooks you, I'm not to blame. It's all John Mayer's fault.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 3/20

Apparently I am now a dinosaur.

Several times this weekend on my Facebook news feed (http://www.facebook.com/jim.koski1) a particular story from a couple of years ago made a re-appearance. I don't know if you've noticed the stories going around about how a particular rule of writing is rapidly changing, but it's made me realize that I'm on one side of the fence on this subject, and it's probably, in the long run, the wrong side. Because of the way in which texting has insinuated itself into American society, there's now a way that writing experts can separate “old” people from “young” people, and that's by this--

If, while typing, you leave two spaces after ending a sentence, you're “old”. If you leave one (or none), you're “young”. If you leave two spaces after ending a sentence, you learned how to write in the 20^th century. If you leave one (or none), you learned how to write in the age of 160-character text messages or 140-character Tweets; i.e. this century.  Now go back to the lines I just wrote, and count how many spaces I left after finishing a sentence.

Yup. I AM apparently a dinosaur.

I knew this day would come. I knew that, at a certain point in my life, I'd be faced with something that told me time was moving on and leaving me behind. I had no idea what that “something” would be. I figured it would be something like having my leg break while trying to stand up or wondering who the heck this Gigi Hadid is and just exactly how she's connected to the Kardashians. But nope; I'm fine as far as stuff like that goes.

I'm a dinosaur because of the way I type.

And when you think about it, it's funny. I never took a typing class. I never learned how to type “correctly”, a fact that drives my properly-educated-in-typing wife mad. I just learned how to type by doing. I started with one finger, added another, and have sailed through life slowly adding fingers to my typing repertoire. Over the years, my right thumb became quite adept at hitting the space bar twice when finishing a sentence.

Now, as I find out, that skill is becoming about as relevant as getting up off the couch, walking over to TV, and using a dial to change the channel.

You DO remember what a TV dial is, right?

One of the reasons “the kids” only use one space after a sentence is that when you send a text you only have 160 characters to use, and a space counts as a character. So when it comes to texting, I can understand why you would only want to leave one space after a sentence. But when you're typing a note or a letter or an e-mail or (even) a blog, you're not constrained by the amount of spaces you leave after a sentence. Heck, if you wanted to, you could even leave THIS many spaces after a sentence.             Of course, your paragraph structure would all weird if you did it that way, but unlike a text message, there's nothing to stop you from doing it.

I guess I just find it funny that one particular form of writing is making all other kinds of writing conform to its particular quirks. I”m not surprised; after all, I've studied the English language enough to know that it's a very elastic, living type of creature. It's constantly evolving (much, I'm sure, to the detriment of William Shakespeare and those who've study him the past 400 years). But to change just because of a 160-character limit imposed by technology, and then to claim that anyone who doesn't use the change is out of date?

Well...I guess I now know how those Tyrannosaurus Rexs felt, just before the meteor hit 65 million years ago and sent them all into oblivion.

(jim@wmqt.com), typing dinosaur.

Friday, 3/17

My cow pen stopped moo-ing today.

That's one of those sentences I never thought I'd write; apparently, I can now cross that off my literary bucket list. But it's true. Having seen first-hand my freakish fascination with cows, my in-laws gave me a pen for Christmas a year ago in the shape of a cow's head. The cool thing about it was that if you pressed the head the pen would emit a “moo”, something that gave me endless hours of joy and Loraine endless hours of shaking her head at me and smiling, much like one does when a little puppy keeps running its head into a wall for no reason.

But now, it's all over.

The pen still works. In fact, I used it to write myself a note last night. But when I finished the note and pushed down in the cow's head, as I'm wont to do, nothing happened. The pen didn't moo, it didn't light up like it normally does when it moos, and I was left there with a sad look on my face like someone had just stolen my favorite piece of chocolate mid-bite.

At least I didn't cry. That's something, right?

I have no idea what's wrong with the pen. I have no idea if the battery's dead, if the switch isn't connecting properly, or if there's some other reason it's currently in its moo-less state. Of course, seeing as how it was made in China and probably cost 3 cents to manufacture, maybe I should be glad and/or surprised that it lasted as long as it did. After all, it could have been sitting on a shelf unpurchased for five or ten years. After all, I'm sure the market for a cow pen that moos probably isn't that big.

It probably consists of me and a few easily-amused second graders scattered across the country.

Don't worry; I'll still keep using the pen. But if my eyes get a little misty and a little lump develops in my throat...well, what can I say? I miss the moo.

******

On that rather bovine note note, have yourself a great St. Patrick's Day today, and keep the celebrating going for the next few days, if you'd like. After all, it IS the weekend!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 3/16

I wonder how many people around here are like me?

I count among the 7 or 8 nationalities in my ethnic makeup Irish and Finnish. If I were a drinking person, I guess that might mean that I wouldn’t be sober through the end of the week, what with having to celebrate St. Urho’s Day and St. Patrick’s Day back to back. But since I’m not a drinking person, I just have to make sure I wear purple today (a color in which I look good) and green tomorrow (a color that, to be honest, doesn’t flatter me as much as I’d like).

Oh, the problems we have in life, right?

Anyway, like I said, I’ve been wondering how many people in the U.P. have both Ireland and Finland as part of their heritage? I mean, I know there was a large Irish population in Marquette, especially in south Marquette (which is where I get mine), and I think everyone knows that one or two (or perhaps a few more) people emigrated to the U.P. from Finland a century or so ago. Over the years, I’ve met a people with a lot of Finnish in their blood, and I’ve met a lot of people with Irish in their blood, but I don’t know how many have both. And that makes me curious.

(Of course, I’d also be curious to know how many people also have English, Scotch, German, French, Swedish, and whatever else I’m made up of in their blood, as well!)

Now, despite my curiosity, I have to say that I’m be a very poor excuse for someone curious about his ethnic background. I don’t know any Finnish or any Gaelic; I don’t eat foods from either country, and I certainly don’t have any tales of the family back in the “old country”. For many years, I didn’t even give a second thought to anything in my background. After all, I was just “me”.

But since I’ve started traveling some of my “old” countries (and, I’m guessing, since I’ve started to get older, despite my best efforts to stop it) I’ve started to wonder a little about all the little ingredients that were part of the recipe that became “me”. I find parts of it kind of interesting, too. I’m both Irish and Swedish because a young Irish man married a young Swedish woman over 100 years ago at a time when young Irish men didn’t usually marry young Swedish women. One of the ancestors of that young Irish man may have been a poet back in the old country. And one of my long-ago English ancestors had children who were circus clowns or who ran away to join an elephant act in a carnival.

See? It explains a lot about me, doesn’t it?

So if you happen to be one of those people who has Finnish blood or Irish blood (or, if you’re lucky, both) enjoy the next few days. Wear purple and/or green. Try not to drink too much. And if you do, remember--drink lots of water before you go to bed that night. Lots and lots of water.

At least that’s what someone once told me. . .

Anyway, happy St. Urho-Patrick Daze. And if you have more than just Finnish or Irish in your background, enjoy celebrating the days devoted to those countries, as well!!!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 3/15

Beware the Ides of March!

Sorry; I just always wanted to write that and actually have it make sense. And since today IS the actual “Ides”, I can now rest happy. I just need to figure out what color to wear. After all, if tomorrow (St. Urho's Day) is purple, Friday (St. Patrick's Day) is green, and yesterday (Pi Day) was the color of whatever pie you last ate, what does one wear for an “Ide”?

I'm going for black. I'm assuming Julius Caesar would agree.

And yes, I do know I need to get a life. You don't need to remind me!

8-)

Today's gonna be one of those days, I think. Maybe some of that is because it's ten days until I go to Florida for a long weekend (and the extended forecast calls for temps in the 80s when I arrive). And maybe some of it is that fact that I was woken up early this morning in perhaps the one way I don't mind getting woken up early—by the chirping of birds. I don't know if you've noticed it, especially with the snow & cold of the past few weeks, but at least in my part of Marquette there's been an increase in the number of song birds plying their trade during the early morning hours. In fact, after being awoken early today, I went running without my usual iPod, and was astounded by the amount of bird chatter I heard all throughout my little jaunt (which included a lot of downtown Marquette, believe it or not).

In fact, sometimes the birds were even louder than the cars, muffler-less pickup trucks, and Marq-Tran buses that usually interrupt whatever I'm listening to.

I also have to admit I like the fact that evenings that are now longer, thanks to the time change last weekend. Instead of walking home in the dark I get to walk home in the light., and for some reason it just seems to make the three-block jaunt a little easier, even through the aforementioned cold & snow. It may just be a perceptual thing, but to me at least walking home against a bitter north wind is slightly less cold with a little sunshine hitting your face.

Not only that, but now that it's light out when I walk home I can see the proto-buds on my favorite lilac tree, and know that Spring will be here for real sooner rather that later. And who doesn't want that?

Okay; seeing as how I've already accomplished so much waking up a few minutes early I'll stop babbling now, go find something black to wear, and get ready to head to work. And with any luck, I won't run into anything (or anyone) I'll need to “Beware” of today. Wish me luck!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 3/14

Think they'll take my diploma back once my alma mater realizes I don't care if they make it to some basketball playoff?

I know...bad alumni, right? I guess I just can't help myself. After all, it's only college basketball. And it's not like Michigan State hasn't been in the NCAA tournament every year this century, or whatever it is. Because they have.

I guess I'm just not a good Spartan.

You'd think I'd be happy they're back in the tournament once again; after all, not only did I graduate from the place, but their coach just happens to be one of the most famous people ever to come out of the U.P. But because it's basketball, a subject in which I have absolutely no interest, college or other-wise, I just kind of shrug my shoulders while the rest of the world goes crazy filling out their brackets and losing their mind when Elba squeaks past Waterloo in the greatest first round upset in the history of March Madness.

Whatever.

Don't get me wrong—I enjoyed my three years at Michigan State,. My time there helped make me into the person that I am today, and I wouldn't have traded it for the world. But unlike a lot of people, I don't consider myself a part of the Spartan “family”. I don't go back for homecoming, I don't belong to any kind of alumni association, and I'm really not interested in whether their sports teams are good, bad, or on probation. My life is where I am now and what I'm doing today, not what I was, who I was, or where I was back in the 1980s.

So sorry, Michigan State. It's not you, it's me.

However, that's not to say it's not a great place to grow and learn. It is. In fact, if you have a young person trying to decide where to go to college, tell them Michigan State is one of the best. In fact, I highly recommend going there. And if you do go there, and if you graduate, and if you wanna be a part of the Spartan “family” for many years afterward, I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun, and I'm sure they'd love to have you. In fact, based on the amount of mail I get asking me to donate to the school, I can guarantee they'd love to have you. So if you wanna do it, that's cool.

You just won't be seeing me at any March Madness parties. Now, I suppose I should go & find out where I buried my diploma, just in case they ask for it back.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com), also wishing you a Happy Pi Day!

Monday, 3/13

Yay. I get my hair cut tonight!

Now, I realize that celebrating a hair cut may not be the biggest cause for joy in the world, but because things have been so hectic and because schedules haven't coincided it's been a bit since I've had a haircut. As it turns out, a little longer than normal. And because of that, if you know what you're looking for, you can really tell I need a trim.

You can really, really tell.

I can't speak for anyone else in the world, because as we ALL know I'm not like anyone else in the world. But for a certain window in the hair growing process—say five or six weeks after I get a cut—my hair starts to get really weird. For the next two or three weeks it starts to get curly. Really, really curly. Whatever natural wave my hair has to it gets really exaggerated. It sticks out everywhere. For those two or three weeks I can look like I'm a human mop, a human mop that just stuck a finger in an electrical socket. And then, if I keep growing my hair, it starts to look normal again.

But for those two or three weeks—the two or three weeks I'm in right now—I can, on occasion, look like Carrot Top, expect my hair's brown (& gray) instead of red. Yikes!

Normally, I'll get it cut before that happens, but like I said, the last month or so has been kinda hectic. And since I'm done shooting “High School Bowl” for the season, I don't necessarily have to have the best looking hair. So for the past four or five mornings, when I get up for work or to lounge around, I look at the mass of hair sticking out here and poking out there and just chuckle. It'd be easier if I wore hats, because I could just throw one on and be done with it. But since I don't (another story in itself) I try to tame it.

The operative word, of course, being “try”. Because when we're in that little hair growth window, like we are now, my hair pretty much has a mind of its own.

I really don't care if my hair is long or if it's short; as long as it hasn't totally fallen out (yet) I'm happy. So I suppose I could try to live through the next few weeks and let it grow out to the point that it looks normal again. But that means I'd have to spend the next few weeks looking at it in its present state and trying to make it presentable. And that, in all honesty, just takes too much of my (rapidly diminishing) brainpower. So by getting it cut tonight, I can now spend the next four or five weeks not even thinking about it.

And I'm fine with that.

Now, we just have to make sure that my next hair cut happens on schedule. Otherwise, I'll be right back at the same place, looking at the same curls and the waves that are currently invading my head, and starting the process over again. Either that, or I could just start shaving my head and be done with that.

That, however, would probably open up a whole 'nother can or worms, a can I'd rather not deal with at the moment!

Okay; that's enough about hair for today...

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 3/10

I don't like the bill. I hope it doesn't pass if it ever comes up for a vote.

As we're coming up on another temporaly-challenged weekend (i.e. a weekend where we have to change the clocks forward an hour) the bill in the Michigan House to have the state stop observing Daylight Savings Time comes to mind. Now, I don't claim to be an expert on time and time changes, and I know that there are some people who so dislike any law that they want them all repealed, but I have to wonder why anyone would introduce a bill that would make Michigan an oddball state.

Maybe because we're now unique enough as it is?

Considering Michigan's already stretched across two times zones as it is, does it make sense that we'd keep our clocks the same while the rest of the country switch theirs? Does that mean that those of us who live in the eastern U.P. would be in the Eastern time zone part of the year and the Central time zone the rest? And does that mean that the four counties that border Wisconsin would stay in the Central time zone part of the year, and then revert to, what, the Mountain time zone the rest of the year?

You gotta wonder.

While that would seem to be creating a problem that doesn't currently exist, here's my real objection to the whole bill. Right now, with Daylight Savings Time, the sky starts to get light during the summer just after 5 am, and stays light until 1030 or 11 pm. That's kind of cool. But if we didn't switch our clocks, the skies would start to get light right after 4 in the fricking morning, with sunrise on the shortest day of the year at an unnatural 4:57 am.

And there are people who say that Daylight Savings Time screws up their body clocks now? Can you imagine if we didn't have it?

Now, I realize that Marquette and Houghton Counties, on the border between the Eastern and Central time zones and as far north as we are, are unique cases. I realize the rest of the state is different, and wouldn't be affected as much by a scraping of Daylight Savings Time as the rest of Michigan. But shouldn't we get a say in the matter? After all, we'd be among the people most affected by the change. Not only would the sun start rising while vampires are still out working, but we'd also lose those glorious evenings when the sun never seems to set and we can be out enjoying those few fleeting weeks of summer.

And that would be a bummer.

That's my opinion on the matter. Yours may be different, and that's fine. But seeing as how we actually do have to change our clocks this weekend, I just thought I'd bring it up.

Speaking of which, don't forget to change yours before you to go bed Saturday night. Otherwise, when you come back to read this next one of these Monday morning you'll be out of sync with the rest of us, and we all know how painful that can be, right?

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 3/7

Because I have to go to the dentist in a few and get the permanent cap cemented onto on my back tooth (which means I can finally drink tea again!), I'm gonna leave you with something I wrote four years ago, when I was trying to sell my car.

(And as an aside, I haven't had a car for four years now? Geez!)

Back tomorrow with a fully capped tooth and the story of a VCR tape I came across this past weekend.

(jim@wmqt.com)

*****

(as originally posted 3/12/2013):

Really? That’s the thing that makes you say “no”?

As I wrote yesterday, we’re in the process of selling my current car before Loraine gets her brand-new one. Even before putting an ad on Craig’s List we had a couple of people express interest in it, but that interest soured once they learned what is apparently a dark, deep, disturbing secret about the vehicle.

It’s a stick--a manual transmission. Scary, huh?

I don’t get what the big deal is; every car both Loraine and I have ever had have been sticks. They get great gas mileage, they give you better control over your driving, and, in all honesty, it’s a lot more fun driving a stick than it is an automatic. Yet so many people out there are either afraid of them or don’t even know how to drive them (something that’s quite funny if you ever watch “The Amazing Race”) that it seems a bit astounding.

Driving a car with a manual transmission isn’t scary. Really, it isn’t. Yet either because they don’t teach people how to drive them, or because they require concentration while behind the wheel, or (perhaps) because you can’t talk on a phone easily while driving a stick, most people resemble the figures in an Edvard Munch painting when presented with the possibility of driving a car with a manual transmission. It’s not that scary. Trust me on this; I’ve driven them for 3 decades, and on those rare occasions I get into a car with an automatic something just doesn’t feel right. I know that’s weird, but that’s how it feels.

And it must be something that’s an American phenomenon; every time we rent a car over in Europe, it comes with a big bold warning--in English--that the car has a manual transmission. In fact, if you want one with an automatic transmission, you have to pay a hefty surcharge.

Needless to say, we’ve never had to pay the surcharge!

I have no doubt that we’ll sell the car, even though it is tainted with the Scarlet Stick. In fact, there are several messages on my phone from people interested in the vehicle, even though they’re aware it has a manual transmission. I guess it’s just another one of those (many) ways in which I’m outside the mainstream. Who knew you could learn so much just by trying to sell a car?

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 3/6

So did you have a lazy weekend or a fun weekend?

The reason I ask is that, somewhere in my travels over the past few weeks, I read an article about how for most people their weekend takes two forms—they either have a “lazy” weekend, where they sit around and don't do much, or they have a “fun” weekend, where they get out and play and do stuff they normally don't do. According to the article, research has shown something a little counter-intuitive, that people who have a 'fun” weekend actually go back to work on Monday more refreshed and rested than people who have a “lazy” weekend.

Weird, huh? But based, at least, on my own experience, I kinda think it's true. I know that in any given “normal” winter I spend a lot of my weekends inside, lying around, reading, and generally not doing too much. Then when I go back to work on Monday, I'm still kind of “blah”. But during the summer, when Loraine and I are out walking and biking and exploring and doing whatever, I feel recharged when I go back to work. Now, I always chalked it up to the fact that during the winter it's cold and you don't get a lot of sun, but after reading that article...

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I'm proof that the research really IS accurate!

Like most people, I had not given one iota of thought to how I spend my weekends. Maybe some of that is because I usually work part of a weekend, maybe some of that is because there are just certain chores that need to get done on a weekend, and so that's how I spend part of that time. But now that I've read the article, and have seen how it actually applies to the real world (or at least MY real world), I'm thinking this--

I'm thinking that no matter how tired I am, that no matter how beat down the previous week had made me, that I need to go and have FUN. Not sit around and take a nap, not hang out and watch the clock count down the hours until the weekend's over, but to get out and have fun like it was a sunny summer day.

Even if it's the dead of winter.

Now, I realize that won't be possible every weekend of the year, especially if we have any more winter weekends. But if knowing is half the battle, then I consider myself well-armed to get the most of our whatever time off I can scrounge, especially on a weekend.

Hope you can do the same, too, at the end of this brand new week!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 3/3

Wow. I can't believe we're done for the year.

I'll have to keep this kinda short, because I'm off to NMU in a bit to tape the final episodes of “High School Bowl” for the year. We're doing two shows today, the semi-finals and the finals, and it puts the wraps on another fun season, a season that seems like it just started yesterday.

But now, it's over.

I don't know if it seems like it's been a short season because it all went so smoothly, or because it's been a blast doing it, but I'm kind of stunned at how quickly it went. Maybe it's because I now kinda know what I'm doing. After all, the first year of hosting I was feeling my way. The second I was getting into a groove. And this year, it's been full throttle. Like I mentioned, it's been a blast this season, and I'm very sorry to see it come to an end. Some familiar teams have made the semis, while there are a couple of surprises in there, as well. I can't wait to see how it turns out later today. You might have to wait until the end of April to see it for yourself, but trust me when I say this—there are some amazing moments still to come this season.

The season that, like I said, wraps up shooting in just a few minutes.

With that, I'm off to make sure my tie is straight. Have yourself a great weekend!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 3/2

Out of everything I eat, I can't believe it's tea and apples.

As some of you may be aware, I cracked a tooth a couple of weeks ago eating cheese (go figure) and I have a temporary cap on the tooth, which is scheduled to become a permanent cap next Tuesday. Since I had the temp cap put on last Tuesday, I've noticed that my tooth starts to ache a little when I eat certain foods. Being of a somewhat scientific bent, I've decided to do a little testing as to what's causing the aches, and I after a week I can report the following.

It seems to be green tea and apples that are causing the ache.

I have no idea why. I've just discovered over the past week that whenever I drink tea or eat an apple, my tooth starts to ache. When I skip them, my tooth feels fine. I don't know what's causing it. I don't know if there's a little crack in the temp cap that allows something to escape onto my exposed tooth or if my gum's just a little tender after all the poking around and drilling. And I don't know why tea and apples are the triggers, as opposed to anything else (from whole wheat bread to spinach to chocolate) I eat.

It's weird. But that's what's happening.

Now, I'm hoping it goes away when I get my permanent cap next week. I'm expecting it to; after all, isn't that why you get broken teeth capped? But the fact that my tooth didn't like those two specific foods while temporarily capped just makes me wonder...why those two foods and nothing else? They're two uniquely different foods. One's a liquid, one's a solid. One's sweet, the other isn't. One's ingested warm, the other eaten cold. It doesn't seem like there should be any connection between the two.

Yet there is, and I can't figure out why.

I mean, I was able to figure out which two foods were causing the aches. Doesn't it make sense that I should also be able to figure out why? Yet here I sit, knowing that apples & tea caused the pain yet unable to figure out why. I mean, in the scheme of things, it's not that big of a deal, but if I figured out one thing I should be able to figure out the other, right?

Right?

I'll ask my dentist about it Tuesday when I get the permanent cap on. Maybe he knows something I don't. Or, just maybe, he'll shake his head, too, wondering shy it was tea and apples and nothing else..

We'll find out then.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 3/1

I wonder how much it's gonna cost?

The news that broke Monday about Space X flying two space tourists to the moon & back next year caught my attention, for reasons that would be obvious to anyone who's ever read these things. According to the company's head, Elon Musk, the two tourists have already paid a substantial deposit and are fully funding the first flight by humans to the moon since 1972, where they will shoot past the moon, loop around, and then (hopefully) make it back to Earth.

Uhm...if it doesn't cost too much, can I chip in for a seat?

8-)

I can't even imagine how much it's going to cost the two to make the trip, and if I'm totally honest, part of me wonders if the money wouldn't be better spent feeding people or providing safe housing for millions of refugees who currently have no home. But if you have the money and you have the desire to make the trip, I can certainly see why you'd want to go. Only (I think) 26 people have ever left Earth orbit to head to the moon, and to be the first two people to do it for a vacation would just be incredible. I mean, sure, they'll be launched on the Falcon Heavy rocket, a booster that hasn't flown yet, and travel in a Dragon spacecraft, which hasn't yet carried humans into orbit, but you'll be going to the moon.

That outweighs the risks, right?

According to the story, the company says the two private citizens are fully aware of the risks, which I would hope is the case. Going to the moon isn't like hopping onto a plane and heading to, say, Europe. Nope; at least in a plane, if you have a problem you can usually land somewhere and take care of whatever the situation is. But when you're going to the moon, you're going to the moon. You don't have any place to land if you have a problem. And even when you get back to Earth there's still that little problem of not burning up in Earth's atmosphere and landing safely in the ocean.

But other than that it's not too risky.

Now, that being said, would I go if given the chance? You bet I would. I know how risky space travel can be. But I also know that everything is done to make sure that those risks are minimized. I have to admit, the timeline of the flight might worry me—after all, the company will only be testing the Falcon Heavy booster for the first time this summer, and will launch its first crewed Dragon capsule a few months before the scheduled jaunt to the moon—but if those tests and first flights go well, I could see the allure of heading to the moon, especially as the first private citizens to do so. After all, the history books awake.

Here's my prediction--I don't think they'll fly as scheduled next fall, but I do think they will eventually make it. And I do think that this will open a whole new era in spaceflight, at least for those who can afford it. But it's a start. One day—maybe too late for my dream of making it into space, but one day-- flying into space will be as common as hopping onto a jet and flying to Europe. After all, think how exotic that concept was a century ago, and now people don't even give it a second thought.

And at the very least, we can all say we were around when space became a place for you to go on vacation.

(jim@wmqt.com), still volunteering, if anyone asks!