Friday, 4/28

I better use the pounds while I have the chance.

No, don't worry; I'm not talking about some kind of weird weight loss (or gain) scheme. Instead, I'm talking about two one-pound coins I picked up up the last time I was at Heathrow Airport in London. You see, the British government has changed the coins, and if you don't use the old ones before October of this year they become worthless pieces of metal.

So, I guess, it's a good thing I'll be flying through Heathrow in September, right?

As happens every time you come back from a country with different money, you invariably come back with some loose change. And for me, at least, that's usually not a problem, because I'll just use the change the next time I'm in that country. But every once in a while something like this coin change takes place, and you're left with hoping that you'll be able to use the old ones before they become obsolete. Luckily, on both our way to and from Dusseldorf we have to fly through London, so I'll get the chance to get rid of the coins just in the nick of time.

What it means is that I'll probably have to drink an extra can or two of British Dr. Pepper, the kind made with real sugar and the kind that tastes like Dr. Pepper in the US used to. Bummer.

8-)

In reality, it wouldn't matter that much if I didn't get to use the two one-pound coins; after all, with the way the exchange rate is after Brexit they're only worth two and a half bucks or so. And I could always use them as souvenirs to remind me of all the time I've spent waiting in Heathrow for a flight (and, just as an aside, I suppose sometime we should schedule a trip where we spend more time in England than just a few hours in an airport, right?). But as long as I'll be back under the deadline I might as well use them. If nothing else, I can always keep a few of the new 12-sided coins as souvenirs.

Or, of course, use them to buy even more Dr. Pepper the next time we're there!

So that's my plan, a plan that will actually go into motion four months from Sunday when we kick off (as Loraine calls it ) “Euro Wing-Ding 2017”. Dr. Pepper, here I come!

On that note, have yourself a great weekend. Stay warm and stay dry!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 4/27

I was thinking about getting my bike out this weekend. I guess that's another dream that'll never come true.

For the past couple of weekends I've been thinking of getting it out and putting it to use, but because of everything that's going on and everything that seems to pop up I kept putting it off and kept putting it off, always thinking that I'd do it “next” weekend. Well, now that “next” weekend is on the horizon and some forecasts are calling (yikes!) a chance of snow, I guess I'll have to shift it off to the next “next” weekend.

Bummer.

Ever since I was a kid, the freeing of my bike from its winter storage has always been a really big thing. It's always been a sure sign of spring, and one to which I've always looked forward. Some years, it's been easy and early; some years, not. I even recall one year when my bike was in a storage shed in my parents backyard, a back yard full of snow, and in order to liberate my bike I shoveled a path about fifty feet long through two or three feet of snow.

I guess I really wanted my bike that year!

There are always two things I can be sure of when I get my bike out for the year. I can always be sure that the tires will need air, and that the gears will need a little oil. I'm sure that'll be the case again this year, whenever I get it out. The other thing of which I can be sure? That my legs will be sore after the first day because I invariably ride longer than I planned, just because of the joy it brings me.

If you see me looking a little weird while walking down the street, you'll know that I've ridden my bike for the first time this year.

I'm riding the same Shogun mountain bike I've been riding for over 25 years now. It's a big, heavy metal thing; I'm sure if I got a new one that did everything this one does it would now be about half the weight. But you know what? That doesn't matter to me. When I'm out on my bike for exercise, I want the weight. I want to work as hard as I can. And if I'm hauling around an extra five or ten pounds of metal; well, you can trust me. That IS hard work.

So once it actually becomes biking season for those of us who keep putting it off, I'm sure all will be well in the world. Well, okay, all will be well in my little corner of the world. I can't make any claims for anyone or anywhere else. All I have to do now is make sure that my tires stay inflated, my legs get into biking shape, and I don't do anything stupid like four years ago when I ran into the back of Loraine bike and re-arranged my face.

Wish me luck that I'll get the chance soon.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 4/26

I took my own advice yesterday, and because of that you get to see the end results.

If you listen with any regularity, you know that one of the running bits I do on the air is, when it's nice outside, to give listeners “permission” to slip out of work, to tell their boss that I said it was okay that they sneak out and enjoy a little sun. I don't know that anyone ever takes my advice; at least, I know I've never been sued by anyone for getting fired from their job for taking my advice. But since yesterday was the only nice, spring-like day in the forecast for the next week, I grabbed a camera, told my co-workers I had to get a picture or two for a blog, and followed my own advice about getting out and enjoying a few seconds of sun.

You know what? I should follow my advice more often!

Unfortunately, I didn't have all day to play outside, but I was able to capture a little color here...

And a little color there...

And someone else out enjoying the sun before it disappears forever...

Finally, I realized that I promised a few weeks ago that I wouldn't be sharing any more pictures of the growth on my favorite lilac tress, but, well...

I'm sorry. NOW I promise not to share any more pictures until they bloom. Really, I won't. Really!

8-)

Now that it's cold & rainy the next week or so, hope the pictures are enough to hold you over. I highly doubt it, but ever little bit might help, right?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 4/25

As I mentioned yesterday, I find myself getting woken up earlier and earlier every morning. But I've decided I'm not gonna complain about it.

I usually sleep pretty soundly in the morning. In fact, it's when it seems I get my best REM sleep, which may account for why I have trouble functioning during the first part of the day. I'm still trying to rouse my body from a very deep level of unconsciousness. But I notice that I seem to be sleeping less soundly in the morning recently, and it's not because of people or sounds or the rumbling of street sweepers.

Nope. The sun (or just the light from the sky on a cloudy day) is waking me up.

It's not a jolting wakeup like you get from 3 am phone call or a 7 am alarm going off. Nope, it's a gentle wakeup call. It's a wake-up call where your mind gradually becomes aware that there’s something out there, and it keeps nudging you closer and closer to consciousness to find out what that something is, until you eventually wake up, and realize that for the first time in so long you can’t remember you’ve been welcomed into your day by sun bouncing off of nearby houses, sun that for the past few months hasn't even risen when you wake up.

And since it would be anathema to everything for which I stand to complain about the sun, I'm not gonna.

I usually don't get back to sleep after the sun wakes me up, and for some strange reason my body and my mind don't seem to care. I don’t know if it was because my body's just naturally adapting to the circadian rhythms of the sun or if was the way in which my alarm clock for the day was so gentle in doing its job, but I seem to bound into my days in a very strange way, at least for me—not dead. In fact, on a couple of days, I've actually had energy and a willingness to face whatever's coming my day. There's no lethargic wandering around, trying not to bump into things. There was no sitting on the couch, staring at the wall for two hours while trying to summon enough energy to actually get off the couch. Nope...the sun, while waking me up early, also apparently provided me with the unique manner in which everyone should start the day.

Too bad it only works that way for a few months each year, right?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 4/24

Don't worry. I have not turned into an early bird.

Those of you who know me know I have trouble waking up early. Those of you who know me know I have trouble really functioning at all before, say, noon. And that's why a couple of you, over the past few months, have been reading these and wondering how in the world I've been posting these blogs at, say 6:30 in the morning, an hour when I'm usually lost deep somewhere in slumberland.

The answer is, I haven't been posting them that early.

Here's the deal—about a year or so ago I started using Blogger to post these on our website. Before, I used to send them to our webmaster and he'd stick them up, but to save him some work and to allow me a little more control over what gets posted when we made the switch. And so far, it's worked out well.

There is, however, one slight quirk, and that quirk has led a few of you to believe I've become an early bird. If you scroll down to the bottom of this particular blog you'll notice it says it was posted a little after 6:30 this morning, something that it says almost every day. Well, I can tell you for a fact that I, like a sane person, was still sleeping at 6:30 this morning. I didn't wake up that early, and I certainly didn't write this that early. I woke up like I usually do, I wrote this like I usually do, and I posted it like I usually do.

Just not at 6:30 this morning.

Why do people think I've become an early bird? Well, Blogger is part of the Google family. Google, like most tech companies, is located on the west coast. The west coast is three hours behind us in time; in fact, they're in the Pacific time zone. So when you see the time this blog was posted, what you're seeing is the time it was posted on Google's server. On the west coast. In the Pacific time zone.

So, you see, I haven't become an early bird. I'm just a victim of a little time travel.

That's right. The time it says this blog was posted today was actually what time it was posted in the Pacific time zone, three hours behind those of us in the Eastern time zone. So add those three hours to the 6:30, and you get 9:30, still an early hour for me, but one where I have at least 20% of my brain cells functioning; enough, apparently, to write and post one of these.

Never fear; I'm still not an early bird. And based on the way my body works, I probably never will be. I have, however, been waking up a little earlier than usual recently, through no fault of my own. Details on that tomorrow.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 4/21

I do know there have been Friday, April 21sts in the past that were a lot nicer, weather-wise, than today, this particular Friday, April 21^st.

I know that for a fact.

I mean, today's weather is well within the realm of possibility for April 21^st, whether or not it falls on a Friday. I remember some April 21sts where it was snowing, or raining, or cold, or just kind of “blah”. You know--like today. However, I do remember one Friday, April 21^st, where it was nice & warm outside. In fact, it was so nice and warm outside that a remarkable young woman and I decided to get married outside on the steps of the Marquette County Courthouse instead of in an office buried deep inside the building.

THAT'S how nice it was outside that particular Friday, April 21^st.

Yup; Loraine and I are celebrating yet another year of being legal today. Sometimes it's hard for me to believe just how long we've been hitched; after all, part of me insists that we only got married three or four years ago, all evidence to the contrary. Maybe it's because I remember that day with such clarity. I remember standing on the steps of the courthouse and holding her hand. I remember giving her a kiss & a huge hug after we said our “I do”s. And I remember our gathered families standing below us with way too many cameras and video recorders, making the whole scene look like we were giving a press conference or had a pack of paparazzi chasing us.

In all honesty, it was kind of sweet.

Every time we walk past the courthouse I flash back to that April afternoon, if only for a second. I had no idea at that time what would transpire in the years since. All I know is that I've been constantly amazed by the person who shared the paparazzi with me. It seems like every time I turn my head she's up to something else, something new. For instance, tomorrow she's taking part in a run. Only, this isn't your usual run. It's actually being held in Arizona, and she's doing it here as a satellite runner, helping raise money for the Pat Tillman Foundation.

Because, well, why not, right?

So happy anniversary, Loraine. Thanks for putting up with me, and for being uniquely awesome in your uniquely awesome way. I can't wait to see what kind of adventures we get into before our next anniversary. I can only hope that THAT particular April 21^st is a little more like the day we got married and a little less like today.

8-)

Love,

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 4/20

When I was a kid, I loved doing them. But now that I think about it, I don't think I've seen one for decades.

When I was a kid, I loved to do mazes. In fact, every couple of months I'd hop on my bike, ride down to the old B. Dalton Bookstore in the old Marquette Mall, and look for two things—the latest Star Trek book, and a new book of mazes to replace the ones I'd already finished. I don't know why I liked them so much; maybe it had something to do with the fact that I had a weird sense that would guide me through them without too many wrong twists and turns. But when I was young, I had a bunch of them, before eventually turning the small part of my brain that still enjoys doing puzzles to logic puzzles, something I still do to this day.

Then right before Easter Loraine was looking at the Facebook page of one of our favorite French grocery stores, where they has a posted a maze in the shape of an Easter egg. Knowing that I used to like doing them, she pointed it out to me, I printed it out, and then after staring at it for a few seconds found my way through the puzzle. Now, admittedly, it wasn't a hard maze, but it's nice to know that I still have whatever “sense” about them that I had as a kid.

And that got me to thinking (which, as we all know, can be a dangerous thing). Do they still make books filled with mazes like they used to when I was a kid? A quick, cursory search of those book catalogs I was talking about yesterday says “no”. Oh, they have a ton of puzzle books for both kids & adults. You can find hundreds of word search puzzles, crossword puzzles, Sudoku puzzles, and even (if you look hard enough) “adult” puzzles (about which I'm almost afraid to ask). But nowhere in any of the catalogs we have lying around, nor on the company's website, could I find any books of mazes.

Hmm.

Maybe mazes just aren't in fashion any more. Heck, it's quite possible that “books” aren't even in fashion any more, which makes my search for a book of mazes twice as quixotic as it might normally be. And it's not like I'd actually want to work my way through a book of mazes. After all, the Easter egg maze was the first time I had even thought about them in decades. But still, it seems like some dorky kid growing up some where like I did might enjoy doing them. I mean, I know I'm kind of unique, but there must be someone of a younger generation who'd be interested in them. I couldn't have been the last person who liked doing them, could I have been?

Because, if so, I'd have more in common with a dodo bird than I ever thought.

One of the things Loraine and I do when we head to Europe is spend a couple of hours between flights in downtown Chicago, where one of our stops is always the Barnes & Noble store on Rush Street. Maybe, when we're there this summer, I'll stroll upstairs and see if they have a section of puzzle books. If they do, I'm sure I'll find books of word search puzzles, crossword puzzles, Sudoku puzzles, and heck, maybe even “adult” puzzles. But I'm not holding my breath that I'll find a book of mazes.`

That's life, I guess.

(jim@wmqt.com), slowly realizing he's turning into a living dinosaur.

Wednesday, 4/19

Today, more about books. Specifically, a book almost seems too strange to read.

Loraine was glancing through one of those weird book catalogs we get from a book re-seller on a seemingly daily basis, and one of the titles popped out at her. It's a book that's over 100 years old, and was described in the catalog as a “cautionary tale for children aged 8 and up with an ironic sense of humor”. I'm certainly a child aged 8 and up, and I certainly have quite the ironic sense of humor, so why shouldn't the book appeal to me? Well, maybe it's the title--

“Jim, Who Ran Away From His Nurse And Was Eaten By A Lion”.

Seriously; that's the title of the book. It was written by Hilaire Belloc in 1907, and was supposed to teach children the importance of listening to their elders. However, Mr. Belloc didn't take his assignment totally seriously, which is why the book is recommended for kids with an ironic sense of humor (you know; kids that grow up to be like me). Apparently, young Jim does NOT follow the advice he's given, wanders into a zoo, and (spoiler alert) does get eaten by a lion, with only his head remaining as evidence.

Yup. They had some really good methods of teaching kids lessons back then, didn't they? And is it just me, or does that book sounds like a movie Tim Burton's been waiting his entire life to direct?

Like I said, I have no idea if I'll buy the book and check it out. It's a mere 22 pages, most of them filled with Edward Gorey-inspired drawings, and I'm sure it would be a fun & quick read. But still...

It's a about a boy named Jim who sometime has trouble with authority and gets eaten by a lion because of it. You don't think THAT would cause nightmares???????

8-)

I'll spend a few seconds this evening thinking about it. And I'll also spend a few minutes thinking about how they don't seem to make a certain type of puzzle book that I used to love when I was younger.

But more on that tomorrow!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 4/18

If you don't mind, we're gonna spend a couple of days talking about books. First, based on this excerpt of an Amazon review, which book do you think this person is talking about?

“Since the dawn of civilization, every major culture has spawned at least one immortal work that has withstood the erosion of time and has endured as a monument of that culture's literary heritage. Ancient Greece had the Odyssey. Rome had the Aeneid. England had Hamlet, Germany Faust, Russia War and Peace.

And for 20th-Century America, there is this book. Its sweeping tableau of modern life, its biting critique of post-capitalist materialism, and its trenchant insights into the predicament of modern man mark it as one of the greatest novels of all time.”

What do you think? Is the reviewer speaking of Hemingway, or Updike, or Burroughs, or a lost masterpiece by Fitzgerald? Well, not quite. However, if you said the reviewer was speaking of “The Lennon Sisters: The Secret of Holiday Island”, you'd be absolutely right.

Saturday night after watching “High School Bowl” Loraine and I were joking about the show that follows it, Lawrence Welk. I don't know how the subject of the “lovely” Lennon Sisters, members of that show's endless cast, came up, but Loraine remembered that as a kid, she may have read what she thought was a bizarre murder mystery featuring the singing siblings. Now, why someone would actually write a a murder mystery about sisters who sang on “The Lawrence Welk Show” is beyond me, but someone did, Loraine read it as a kid, and to help her make sure that she was remembering correctly, I did an internet search for it, found out you can still buy it on Amazon, and then read what might be possibly the single best review ever written for a book.

At least the single best tongue-in-cheek book review ever written.

I have no idea who wrote the review. I have no idea if they actually ever read the book, or just decided to write the review and stick it on Amazon. But what I do know is that it may be one of the funniest things I've ever read. I'm guessing that very few people would ever search Amazon for “The Lennon Sisters: The Secret of Holiday Island”, and because of that this amazing piece of writing is just sitting there, hidden on a musty corner of the Internet. I personally never would've found if it hadn't been for the serendipity of reruns of “The Lawrence Welk Show” following the TV the show I host, and with me being married to a woman who actually thought she knew something about a book very few people have ever heard of.

I mean...could anyone even calculate the odds of all that ever happening?

Like I said, the review made me laugh for almost five minutes straight, and since those incalculable odds mean that most people would never even know the review exists, I wanted to share it. Maybe you'll get a laugh out of it, too.

Tomorrow, the story of another book.

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—because it's so good, here's the full review of the book--

“Since the dawn of civilization, every major culture has spawned at least one immortal work that has withstood the erosion of time and has endured as a monument of that culture's literary heritage. Ancient Greece had the Odyssey. Rome had the Aeneid. England had Hamlet, Germany Faust, Russia War and Peace.

And for 20th-Century America, there is Schroeder's "The Lennon Sisters: The Secret of Holiday Island." Its sweeping tableau of modern life, its biting critique of post-capitalist materialism, and its trenchant insights into the predicament of modern man mark it as one of the greatest novels of all time. Readers are struck dumb by the skill, compassion, and power with which Schroeder portrays the characters populating her vast canvas -- Deedee, the eldest sister, with one foot in the past and other diffidently testing the waters of modernity; Peggy, the Parsifal-like optimist, unable to comprehend the darkness that ineluctably engulfs her family as the brilliant plot speeds forward; Taggart, the brooding embodiment of a future both fascinating and awful; and Janet, the wary, wide-eyed everychild through whose neophyte eyes the reader witnesses the entire panorama. And the propulsive drama of the story, with its searing eroticism, its gripping climax, and its unforgettable denouement, assure it a permanent place in the pantheon of world literature.”

Monday, 4/17

Sad to say, I think Russell Stover  season is over.

This is an idea that actually popped into my head yesterday as Easter rolled around and I was eating one of the cream-filled chocolate Easter eggs the company makes. Loraine and I have this tradition—right after Halloween we head to to Walgreen's and see what kind of chocolate the company is putting out for that Christmas. Usually, this will consist of all kinds of chocolaty goodness filled with all kinds of interesting flavors, molded into the shapes of the season—reindeer, Santas, and the like. It's actually one of the ways we know Christmas is coming.

Then the day or two after Christmas, Walgreen's takes down the holiday Russell Stover chocolates and replaces them with the Valentine's Day Russell Stover chocolates, which are actually the same as the Christmas chocolates except they're the shape of hearts and whatever else you associate with the February holiday, things like, oh, I dunno, bitter breakups. Then the day after Cupid pays a visit Walgreen's takes down the Valentine's Day chocolates and replaces them with Easter Chocolates, which are the same as both the Christmas and Valentine's Day chocolates except there are in the shapes of eggs and bunnies.

Not one bitter breakup in the bunch.

It's a glorious four or five month span, a time when we get to sample all kinds of quality American chocolate, as well as a time when Walgreen's gets to separate us from a good-sized chunk of our money. But once Easter wraps up, we're kind of stuck. There's not another chocolate-giving holiday that rolls around until the Christmas stuff gets put out right after Halloween. As far as I can tell, Russell Stover doesn't make Arbor Day chocolates in the shape of trees, or Memorial Day chocolates in the shape of headstones, or Fourth of July chocolates in the shape of fireworks, or Labor Day chocolates in the shape of people slaving away for minimum wage. Nope; between Easter and Christmas we just have to make do with the chocolate we have on hand.

You know, the stuff we buy in Europe. So don't think you have to shed a tear for us or anything.

It's probably a good thing Russell Stover doesn't make chocolate for all those summer holidays. After all, chocolate doesn't always hold up as well as you'd like it to during warm weather months. And if we were to eat it year-round, it would lose a little of the special feeling you get when you bite into one. Besides, I'm sure our waistlines appreciate it, as well.

So now that Easter's come and gone we're left with what we've not yet eaten, which in my case are a couple of sea salt caramel-filled dark chocolate eggs and one key lime-filled dark chocolate thing, which, believe it or not, has a simply amazing taste. In fact, if you happen to see one next year, I highly recommend you try it. But just because the Stover season is over is not a cause for concern; after all, Halloween's a mere six and a half months away, and, sad to say, it'll be here before we know it, thereby letting us know one simple thing--

It's time to ring in the 2017-2018 Russell Stover season!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 4/14

Black jellybeans. Never, ever black jellybeans.

I had someone ask me about my favorite Easter candy a couple of days ago, and instead of trying to figure out which is my favorite, because that might be an impossible task, I told them which Easter candy I absolutely abhor--

Black jellybeans.

Unlike, say, the tale I told you last week about why I don't like bananas, I've never ever liked black jellybeans. And I'll be the first to admit it's the taste of them. While I like anise in cookies, the taste of it in black jellybeans (and its weird cousin, black licorice) just turns my stomach. Unlike bananas, I don't know why it turns my stomach. It just does. And it's not even because I force-fed myself so many black jellybeans that I made myself sick. I don't think I could ever eat that many, because I just don't like the taste.

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

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

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

I think I'll pass.

****

TV-6 did a story on the little TV show I host as we head into the semi-finals for the year this week.  If you're really bored and wanna check it out, just CLICK HERE. 

With that, I hope you have a great Easter weekend. And I hope your black jellybeans are few and far between. Unless, of course, you like them...because if that's the case you can have mine!

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 4/13

I like the picture. If nothing else, it proves that I was once young.

I don't post a lot on Facebook, but when I do I'm often surprised at which posts get the most reactions. That was the case again on Monday, when in honor of National Sibling Day I stuck up two pictures featuring my sister and brother. I had to do the “now” version--

But I had to follow it up with the “then” version, mentioning that that particular shot might be a few years older than the “now” version. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, but the “likes”, “loves”, and “wows” for that picture went through the roof.

But then, at least in my opinion, the picture is kind of adorable--

I came across the picture a decade or so ago when I was scanning shots out of one of my parents' photograph albums. Based on where it was in the album, I was either 19 or 20, which means that Mel was 11 or 12 and Marc was 8 or 9. I was getting ready to move out and move on, while the two of them were getting ready to terrorize my parents as teenagers-in-training. I don't know what it is about the picture that speaks to me. I don't know if it was the fact that it was marking a transition point in my life, or that it reminds me of a much simpler time for the three of us, before we all faced the complex realities of adulthood, but ever since I scanned the picture it's been one of my favorites.

A thought, apparently, shared by all those people who reacted to it in Facebook.

Or, just maybe, I like it because I look so fricking young in it. Now, I've always been blessed in that I have a youthful appearance. Heck, even in the “now” picture I don't look that bad for someone of my, uhm, advancing years. But that “then” picture is something else. I don't think I look 19 or 20. 13, maybe. 15, definitely. But old enough to vote and almost old enough to drink?

Nope. Not that I'm complaining about it one bit, mind you. You can trust me on that.

So,apparently, there's your key to getting a lot of “likes” on Facebook. Just post an adorable picture of you & your siblings. For whatever reason, it seemed to work for me. Hopefully, it will for you, too.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 4/12

Okay, nothing about the weather or weather-related problems today (especially because the sun's out and everything's melting). Instead, I've started to wonder--is the door still around?

It’s amazing the things that pop into your head while running. While out Saturday morning I ran past a house being remodeled. One of the things the contractor had sitting out in the front yard was an old set of cabinets. I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but as soon as I saw the cabinets I immediately flashed back to a day over 25 years ago and a place 400 miles away.

It was, to say the least, weird.

As many of you know, my first job out of college was at a TV station in Flint. The first two months I was there I actually lived in Flint itself, but as I discovered the things that led me to give the city the nickname of “The Pus-Filled Pimple on the Hairy Butt of the Universe”, I ended up moving out to Flushing. Flushing had its own unique, uhm, quirks, but I ended up staying there until I came to my senses and moved back to Marquette. The entire time I lived in Flushing I lived in one apartment. And it was to that apartment that I had my very strange flashback Saturday.

Inside the door of one of the cabinets in that apartment was basically a wall of graffiti. Every person who had lived in that apartment since, if I remember correctly, the early 1950s had written down their name, when they lived there, and one or two things that happened while they inhabited that space. I thought it was kind of an interesting concept; the last day I myself lived there, I added my little two cents to the on-going conversation, and they immediately proceeded to forget about it until Saturday.

I have no idea who moved into the apartment after me. I have no idea if the house that contained the apartment even still exists, as I’ve never found a reason (or the interest) to go back to Flushing since leaving. In fact, in all honesty, I don’t even remember the address of the building, other than it was 139-some street. So I have no idea if the people who lived there in the past 25+ years kept writing on the cabinet door. I have no idea if the cabinet door is even still there, or people who owned the house put in new ones and tossed the old ones with 30-some years of written history on door. As far as I know, the cabinet door ended up like the one I saw while running Saturday, tossed on someone’s front yard bound for a landfill.

I just don’t know.

If the cabinet door is still in that apartment, though, I wonder if the current tenants have ever looked at it, and pondered the stories left by people who’d lived there over what’s now the past 50 or 60 years. Some of them are probably dead by now; others, I’m sure, have moved on to (hopefully) bigger & better things. I know I myself was kind of curious the first time I read the door, which is why I felt compelled to add my two cents worth when I moved out. But whether my two cents are still around for others to read; well, I have no idea about that.

Like I said, I hadn’t thought about the cabinet door since the day I left that apartment over 25 years ago, and I have another cabinet door, here in Marquette, to thank for bringing it back into my head. That makes me wonder. . .

What else is hidden in that strange brain of mine, just waiting for the right trigger to bring it back into my consciousness? The mind’s an amazing thing, isn’t it?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 4/11

That was fun. Let's try not to do it again any time soon.

First of all, apologies for the few lines I wrote yesterday. Unfortunately, that's all I had time for, even considering I was at work before 4 am trying to deal with all the weather-related damage done to power lines and transmitters and stuff. As I write this, we're actually on the air, a minor miracle considering large portions of the city of Ishpeming still do not have power. However, thanks to a backup transmitter and a borrowed generator we are on the air. Sure, we're only at 1,700 watts (as opposed to the usual 100,000), but we're on the air.  And we should be back to normal within minutes.

And that's the important thing.

I'm sure those of you who live in the area have seen the pictures of what the storm did to Ishpeming overnight yesterday, but in case you're one of the people from outside the U.P. who checks on this--

That picture is courtesy of Holly Letson on Facebook, and is just one of many you can find floating around social media. When the storm came through Marquette around 3:30 yesterday morning the lightning woke me up; I had no idea that just a few miles away from where I was that the winds were twice as strong as they were in the city and that hail was falling everywhere.

Yikes!

Then, as I tried to explain yesterday, with all the outages it was just trying to figure out when all of our stations could go back on the air. Luckily, our studios in Marquette weren't affected, and our ESPN station came back on around 730. Then, it was just waiting for our Q107 transmitter to get power, and when we found out it wouldn't be getting any power for a (long) while, we went to Plan B.

Luckily, we had a Plan B. I know there were a whole lot of people who were stuck without energy on an increasingly chilly day. But I also know that people from all across Marquette County reached out and offered everything from hot food to hot showers to a warm place to stay. I know I've said it several thousand times before, and I'm pretty sure I'll say it several thousand times again, but the best people on the planet really do live here in the U.P.

And no, you may not argue with that statement.

So once again, apologies for not writing a lot yesterday. I wish I could blame it on a case of the Mondays, but alas, the blame must fall squarely on the shoulders of my pal Mother Nature. Apparently, she still hasn't gotten it out of her system, what with the five inches (and counting) of wet, heavy snow that's fallen this morning.  Yup...70 & sunny on Sunday, thunderstorms yesterday, and snow storms today.  Welcome to our new reality, I guess.  But, let's just hope she's finished working through whatever issues she's working through, and that she's makes it up to us with some nice weather in the next few weeks.

You guys agree with me?

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 4/10

Yikes!

Because of the massive thunderstorm complex that rolled through Marquette County early this morning, cutting power to areas west of Negaunee and shutting down outside of Ishpeming, I'm having to deal with the fact that we're still off the air, and don't have a lot of time to write (or write anything worthwhile) at the moment.

I'll try to get something going later today...honest!

(jim@wmqt.com)

AN UPDATE:

Well, kind of an update, because I still don't have time to write.  But because power may be out in Ishpeming for up to ANOTHER DAY (yikes!), we're looking to hooking up a generator to a small backup transmitter we have.  We'll get this thing going one way or another.

Friday, 4/7

Today, the story of three pictures. First is what happens when you accidentally drop a six-year old phone on the floor--

I'm always so careful with all of my electronic devices, especially those that are getting up there in years and need a little extra care. But in my haste to put a bunch of crap down all at once last night it slipped out and hit our kitchen floor, which for most people wouldn't be that big of a deal. But since our kitchen used to be an operating room in a private hospital, and the floor underneath the thin carpet is cement, well...you can see why it happened.

Oops. And note to self—don't drop anything that could break on that floor again.

Secondly, and with much more joy--

Sorry. Just had to share. Walking past my favorite lilac tree in the world and seeing the first buds of the season is always one of those rites of spring to which I look forward. Now, the long wait until the lilacs themselves actually come out. And I'll try not to bore you with lilac talk until then.

Finally, and (I'm sure) to no one's surprise, the picture that you guys chose as the one that will become the desktop of my travel computer--

In fact, this vote wasn't even close. Go figure.

On that note, have yourself a spectacular weekend, and do me a favor—try not to drop any electronic devices, okay?

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 4/6

As always, there are times when I’m not really a “man”. But, as always, I’m fine with that.

I just finished reading a book called “I’ll Have What She’s Having”, which contains the stories of 15 of the greatest romantic comedies of all time. I mentioned this to a male acquaintance of mine, and he, being a “typical” man, started to make fun of me for not only reading about romantic comedies but for liking them, as well. And what can I say? He was right. But if he considers it a character flaw, it’s a character flaw I’m more than happy to have.

Anyway, reading the book was a fascinating experience. Not only did it contain behind-the-scenes movie stories I’d not yet heard, but the stories were about some of my favorite movies ever. Yes, some of my favorite movies ever are rom-coms. What’s your point? I also love “Star Wars” and the original “King Kong”, and have one of the world's most bizarre guilty pleasures in “Smokey & the Bandit”.

No, it doesn’t make any sense to me, either.

So after reading the book I sat down and started to see if I could come up with a list of MY favorite 15 romantic comedy movies of all time. Many of them were in the book; a couple, I’m sure, are movies that would never appear on a REAL list of romantic comedies but are movies I consider rom-coms nonetheless.

Here we go...Jim’s 15 greatest romantic comedy movies of all time, in no particular order--

THE PHILADELPHIA STORY and BRINGING UP BABY--two classic screwball comedies, starring the incomparable duo of Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn. You know how I like hyper-verbal writing? These two movies are some of the first (and finest) examples of it in Hollywood history.

ANNIE HALL--For pretty much the same reason as above, just 40 years later and courtesy of Woody Allen

THE AMERICAN PRESIDENT--Okay, also for pretty much the same reason as above, except 20 years after “Annie Hall” and courtesy of Aaron Sorkin.

LETHAL WEAPON--Sure, this is more a bromantic comedy than a romantic comedy, but it still kinda fits into the category, doesn’t it?

SPLASH and BIG--I couldn’t decide which of these Tom Hanks movies to include in the list, so Loraine, who acted as my consultant, said to stick ‘em both in. So I did.

GROSSE POINTE BLANK--because, as you know, even professional killers deserve to fall in love, at least in the movies and at least if they’re John Cusack.

GREGORY’S GIRL--An obscure 1981 Scottish movie by one of my favorite weird filmmakers of all time (Bill Forsythe), it’s the story of a dorky (male) high school student who falls in love with a talented (female) soccer player, and the lengths he goes to try & impress her. Because of the accents you might wanna watch it with closed captioning on, but it’s well worth watching.

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING--It has Sandra Bullock at her ultimate cuteness, plus it was shot in Chicago. Need I say any more?

URBAN COWBOY--I know it’s not supposed to be a comedy, but the dialogue is so bad that it qualifies as one, at least in my book. Plus it has Debra Winger at her ultimate cuteness, even if she is wearing a cowboy hat.

THE TALL GUY & BRIDGET JONES’ DIARY--Hard to believe, but these were both written by the same guy (Richard Curtis). The first is the story of an American actor (Jeff Goldblum) in London who ends up starring in a musical version of “The Elephant Man” (called “Elephant!”). I think you know what the latter film is about; the fight scene between Colin Firth and Hugh Grant is hilarious.

And my favorite romantic comedy of all time, a movie that’s one of my two or three favorite movies ever of any genre?

LOVE, ACTUALLY--another Richard Curtis movie. Loraine said to pick out my favorite sub-plot in the flick, but you know what? I can’t. They’re all good, although the plots involving Hugh Grant, Bill Nighy, and Emma Thompson really do stand out. If you’re one of the few who's never seen the movie, you really need to check it out!

That’s my list. What’s on yours?

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—don't forget to vote on which picture I should have on my travel laptop for the coming year. For the pictures from which you can choose and the rationale behind this scroll down and check out Tuesday's entry).

(pps—when I wrote yesterday's entry about my Mom I totally forgot to mention her website! As some of you know, she's an amazing watercolorist, and I was planning on sharing her website address. But, me being me, I got so tied up in writing about the projectile vomiting of bananas that I forgot all about it.

So if you wanna check out some of her work click HERE!)

Wednesday, 4/5

Happy birthday, Mom.

Those of you who read this on a regular basis know that, like all kids, I was a special little bundle of joy to my parents, especially my mother. But there are a couple of stories I haven't told for a few years, so those of you who are new to this, did you know that I didn’t pop out into the world until just a little past my due date.

30 days past my due date, to be exact.

Yup; I spent 10 months in the oven, instead of nine (December 4^th is pretty much the same as November 4^th, isn’t it?), and seeing as how I was the first born in the family, I’m kinda surprised that after that little shocker, my parents decided to have any other kids. And you’ll be happy to know that following my auspicious debut in the world, I held myself up to a high standard. I think I’ve written in here about how a three year old me once opened a dozen boxes of cereal in a grocery store in search of free stuff, and I think I’ve written in here before about how a seven year old me once spent an entire night at the dinner table refusing to eat Brussels Sprouts. 

And then there's the banana story.

When I was somewhere around the neighborhood of two years old, I, like many kids (even those who weren’t born a month late), developed this strange eating habit. For days on end, I would eat nothing but bananas and milk. Bananas and milk for breakfast, bananas and milk for lunch, bananas and milk for dinner and, if I had a snack, I’m sure it was bananas and milk. According to the tale, my mom tried feeding me other foods but I, at the time, would not eat them. It was bananas and milk or nothing.

Knowing kids go through food cycles, my mom gave me bananas and milk. After all, they’re both good for growing kids, and I seemed happy eating them. Well, after a week or so of eating nothing but bananas and milk, I caught some kind of bug. It wasn’t related to my diet or anything; it was just one of those bugs kids catch. But it was bad enough that one day, after eating my usual meal of bananas and milk, I got sick. Really sick.

And I spewed my bananas and milk all over the kitchen.

Now, I know you’re thinking to yourself--your mom was pregnant with you for 10 months, and this is how you repay her? And I, hanging my head somewhat in shame, say, uh, “yeah”. But in my defense, I WAS only two at the time. And I haven’t spewed bananas and milk around a kitchen since; in fact, I haven’t eaten a banana since that fateful day. I actually get a little nauseous, even today, at the smell and taste of that particular kind of fruit.

That's just one of the ways in which I was a special child, and yet, my Mom still seems to like me. So with that in mind, let’s all collectively wish my mom a happy birthday today. After everything that she’s been put through, I have a feeling she deserves it.

Happy birthday, Mom!!!

Love,

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—don't forget that I'm still looking for your vote on which picture to stick on my travel laptop. If you're wondering what I'm talking about, scroll down to yesterday's entry for details and the pictures from which you can choose!)

Tuesday, 4/4

I need your help again.

You know how every year when I get back from Europe I post a couple of pictures, and then let you choose which is my office computer desktop for the next year? Well, I want to do the same for the little notebook computer that I now use to write blogs when I travel. I took a bunch of pictures in Florida and, as always, can't figure out which to use.

So guess who gets to decide?

Here are the choices this time around--

This very Florida-like shot--

One of the many flowers you see everywhere--

A kinda spectacular sunset--

And, of course, the new love of my life--

I could've had you choose between several dozen different angles of Atlantis, but I figure that unlike me you actually have things other to do in your life than stare lovingly at a flying machine. So that's why there's only one.

If you'd like to help pick the picture, get your votes in by, say, 7 am Friday morning. I'll then take the picture that gets the most votes, and put it on the desktop of my notebook. If nothing else, it means that the picture is heading to Europe in four and a half months, and will also go wherever I happen to go in the near future..

As always, thanks!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 4/3

It's been over twenty years. I wonder how much longer it'll take before people stop referring to K.I. Sawyer as “The Base”?

It's funny, but three times in the past few weeks I've had people on the air tell me they're either at “The Base” or at “KI Sawyer Air Force Base” when I've asked them from where they're calling. And that's not unusual. In fact, it probably happens every week or two. Oh sure; many people who call say they're either from “Sawyer” or “K.I. Sawyer”, but over 20 years after the base closed, some people still refer to by its old name. In fact, when I was fl;ying into Sawyer from Florida last week, I heard someone on the plane call it “The Base”, as well.

Curious.

I can see why there are some people, especially old-timers, who still call it that. After all, if you've grew up saying “K.I. Sawyer Air Force Base” it's probably ingrained in your brain that way. But at least one of the people who called it “The Base” last week was younger. In fact, they were probably just a kid when “The Base” closed and K.I. Sawyer became just “K.I. Sawyer”, minus “Air Force Base”, so I'm pretty sure they didn't grow up calling it “K.I. Sawyer Air Force Base”. Yet, 20-plus years after the fact, they're still referring to it that way.

Like I said...curious.

Of course, it's not just K.I. Sawyer that falls into this category. Just a couple of days ago I heard someone talking about “the new school” in Harvey. The school they're talking about is, of course, Cherry Creek School, a building that opened over 25 years ago. But because it was built AFTER Silver Creek, which is actually no longer a school, it's still referred to as the “new” school.

Now, if we could only get individuals to start doing that to people, and not just buildings or communities. That way, people who know my parents might start referring to me as the “new” Koski. And trust me—that's something about which, at my age, I would not complain!

8-)

Anyway, if you happen to find yourself innocently referring to K.I. Sawyer by using any phrase which includes the word “Base” in it, you're in good company. And, the way it's going, you'll probably be in that good company for another 20 or so years!

(jim@wmqt.com)