Friday, March 30, 2018

Friday, 3/30


Oh, really? Five to ten inches of snow for Easter? That IS an April Fools' Day joke, right Mother Nature?

Sigh...

Unfortunately, it doesn't look like it's a joke. It looks like there's a good chance of it actually happening tonight through tomorrow, which means that the Easter Bunny may have to set aside a little extra time while it's out delivering jelly beans and hiding eggs. Hopefully, the bunny won't be hiding the eggs outdoors; otherwise, some of them may not be found until, say, June, or whenever it is the snow melts this year.

Sigh. Again.

Oh well; hopefully, the snow won't throw the kibosh into anyone's weekend plans. We're looking forward to a somewhat quiet Easter; usually, we get together with my siblings and their kids and celebrate with lots of food. However, with my brother and his brood going downstate, my sister working, and two of my nieces out of the state, it looks like it'll just be me, Loraine, and my niece Mallory. But we've decided to do the holiday right--

I'm making a big pan of French Toast casserole and we're devouring it. THAT should be a fun Easter, especially with a dish that's (and I'm only slightly kidding here) equal parts French bread, eggs, brown sugar, and cinnamon. You can't go wrong with a dish like that, so even though our numbers will be depleted this year, and we'll be awash in that wet, slippery white stuff, at least we'll be spending the rest of our Easter in a sugar coma.

Not because of jelly beans or chocolate, but because of the casserole.

Hope your Easter is just as yummy, especially if you're in an area with Easter like weather. Unlike, say, those of us who live in the U.P.


Thursday, March 29, 2018

Thursday, 3/29


I saw Buddy Ebsen's head floating over my bedroom dresser last night.

Actually, I didn't see his head floating over my dresser, or anywhere else in my apartment. I haven't thought of the star of “Beverly Hillbillies” & “Barnaby Jones” for years now, and I personally don't believe that his disembodied head would be paying me a visit. After all, I don't have a cee-ment pond or an unsolved mystery anywhere.,

However, I was going through a stack of papers yesterday in my lame attempt at doing a little much-needed spring cleaning my office, and on one piece of note paper was written the line that started this blog. I have no idea why it was written on the paper; I certainly have no recollection of actually writing it, but there it was, in my handwriting, describing the floating head of Jed Clampett.

Now I just need to figure out what kind of break of reality led me to writing it.

Seriously; I have no idea why I would've written that line down. If I was prone to drinking a lot or taking mild-altering chemicals...well, then it might've made sense. But I do neither. I'm pretty much as straight and narrow as you can get, at least as far as that's concerned. But then, I apparently don't NEED a lot of alcohol or a handful of mind-altering chemicals to enter another mental dimension; no, I just need to write something on a piece of paper, shove it under a stack of other pieces of paper, and then come across it years later, wondering just why in the heck Buddy Ebsen's head is supposed to be floating over my dresser.

Some days, I amaze even myself.

I'm now almost a little apprehensive about finishing my spring cleaning. Do I really want to know what else I'll come across? Have I written even stranger things in the past, stranger things that I've now forgotten even writing? Will I stumble upon a string of numbers, and then start to wonder what they mean? Is it a phone number? A locker combination? The password to an online bank account worth millions of dollars? The key to the secrets of the universe? I wouldn't be surprised by anything. After all, I wrote a line about Buddy Ebsen for no reason and then entirely forgot about it.

Who know what else is lurking in those stacks of paper.

So if you ever have the chance to stop by the station and wander back to my office, don't be surprised if you see stacks of paper everywhere. It's not my fault.

It's Buddy Ebsen's.


Wednesday, March 28, 2018

Wednesday, 3/28


It's been a year, and the sight of it still sets my heart a-flutter.

When I woke up this morning Facebook reminded me that one year ago I posted a picture on the service, a picture of the love of my life (non-Loraine division).

What was that picture?



That's right; it's apparently been a year since I flew down to Florida for a weekend to walk on a beach, soak up some sun, indulge my inner space nerd, and to fall in love with one of the most amazing flying machines every constructed. And thanks to Facebook (which, apparently, is good for at least one thing these days) I've been reminded that we've now been together for a whole year.

Sigh.

First of all, I can't believe that it's been a year since my parents allowed me to be an 11-year old again for a day. It seems like what...three, four weeks at the max? But it has indeed been 365 days, and while I haven't stared at this particular picture of Atlantis for a while, I on a daily basis come across the little model of the shuttle that I purchased down there. I've worn the Atlantis T-shirt my dad bought for me many times. I debuted the Atlantis tie I picked up down there earlier this year on “High School Bowl”. I use the holographic Atlantis book mark I found down there whenever I need to mark my place in a book or magazine. I still occasionally refer to the book of shuttle missions that I spotted in the gift shop. And the love of my life (non-shuttle division) still uses the “I love you to the moon & back” mug that I brought back for her.

I'm thankful she's not the jealous type.

8-)

Yes, I need help. That's readily apparent, isn't it? But I've always been a space nerd; in fact, I can't remember a time when I wasn't fascinated by the whole concept of space travel. So one year ago when I was traipsing through the Kennedy Space Center, sitting in a mock-up of a Gemini capsule, seeing one of the few remaining Saturn V rockets laid out in all its glory, or falling in love with a big hunk of flying metal, it was just natural. It's part of who I was as a kid, and an equally big part of whom I am now.

Whether or not that makes me, you know, weird is something with which am entirely comfortable.

So that's what I did one year ago. Like I said, it's nice to know that Facebook is good for at least one thing these days!


Tuesday, March 27, 2018

Tuesday, 3/27


I can't believe that it had been three months. Really, I can't.

Like I mentioned yesterday, I took a camera out over the weekend. And when I first turned it on and the battery had gone dead, I knew that it had been a while since I had even powered the stupid thing up. Once I switched to the backup battery I have (itself with only half of its charge left) I came to the realization that I had not yet once during 2018 taken it out of its bag. In fact, the last picture I took was on December 30th, and it was (ahem) a picture of a bunch of chocolate Loraine and I bought at Donckers with a gift card someone gave us for Christmas.

It's been three months since I even thought of taking a picture with a (non-phone) camera. What the heck's wrong with me?

(That's a rhetorical question, by the way, even though I'm quite positive many answers have already popped into your head).

So I took the camera out and wandered around the Lower Harbor area for a while. I wasn't disappointed by what I saw. Now, I don't want to bore you with a ton of pictures, so let me share three that have some weird meaning or that spoke to me, for some strange reason. The first is a shot up Spring Street from the harbor bike path, a shot that gives you a slightly different perspective on the next block of Spring Street--





As I wrote when I posted this on Facebook, it amazes me that even though you think you've seen every single thing in Marquette, there are still moments when you (or at least I) see them from a different perspective, see them in an entirely different way.

Who knew?

The second picture is a slightly disgusting one, so consider this your warning to look away for a bit. You know how I occasionally complain about the dog across the street, the dog whose owners leave it out from 7 in the morning until 11 at night, where it's ignored and left to bark the day away? Well, apparently there's something else the owners seem to be ignoring--



And all that is only with half the snow melted. I can't wait to see what their yard looks (and smells like) once all the snow is gone.

Finally, to clear your mind of all thoughts of dog crap, may I present something else I saw (and photographed) Sunday?



There's hope for us all, I guess. I know I'm really thankful that the green, living version of Spring is on its way. The ugly brown version of Spring can go away whenever it wants!


Monday, March 26, 2018

Monday, 3/26

Oh, look, it's Monday again.  Yay...

8-)

It probably comes as no surprise to anyone that I’ve been thinking about Spring recently. The fact that temperatures haven’t gotten above 30 for a week now (and that I went out & took a bunch of pictures, yesterday, some of which you'll see tomorrow) have just kind of added to the feeling of “enough, already” that seems to be flowing through my veins.

Sigh.

My musings about spring has allowed me to realize something, as well. We actually have two different “Springs” up here. The first part comes after the snow melts but before the leaves come out, while the second starts after the leaves come out. The first “part” of our “spring”, I think, may be the one time of the year that the U.P. doesn’t shine with natural beauty. The trees are bare, the grass is brown, the streets are covered with the remains of a dozen winter coatings of sand, and all the garbage thoughtless people dropped during the last few months just lies on the sidewalks. While the span is only a few weeks long, the U.P. just doesn’t look like the U.P. then. It looks like, well, downstate.

The second “part” of our “spring”, though, is amazing. The streets have been cleaned. The garbage has been picked up. The grass is turning green, and the leaves are starting to burst, all signs of the glorious beauty in which we’ll get to live during the next few months. Some years, the second coming of Spring arrives early; others, not so much. But when it finally does show up; well, then all is right in the world. Or at least our little part of it.

But first, it has to grace us with its presence. Keep your fingers crossed that Spring (both parts of it) will show up. I just hope that “Spring” realizes we need it sooner rather than later.

Or at least I really do...

Friday, March 23, 2018

Friday, 3/23


It's gonna be another one of those days.

Because I have to be at work in a few minutes, then give a tour at 11, then go back to work for a bit, then head out to Art Van for a 4pm live broadcast, I don't have any time to write a blog for today. Yes, I know I'm a horrid human being. No, there doesn't seem to be anything I can do about it, at least today. So I'm gonna leave you with something from four and a half years ago, a recipe you might wanna try should you have some time this weekend to play in the kitchen.

With that, I'm off. Something new and unhurried Monday. I promise!


*****

(as originally posted October 1st, 2013)

You know what? I have two things to talk about today, soup and chipmunks, and I don’t know which to discuss. So I’m gonna flip a coin.

No, really. I actually have a quarter in my hand as I type this, and I’m gonna flip it. If it’s heads, I talk soup. If it’s tails, I talk chipmunks. You ready?

(drum roll, please)

Heads it is. So today we’re talking soup. And don’t worry; we’ll get to the chipmunks tomorrow.

Anyway, we’re talking soup today because I occasionally write in here about baking or cooking things, and when I do several of you ask for recipes. So that’s why we’re talking soup today. One of Loraine’s co-workers had grown a bunch of kale in her backyard garden and gave my dear wife a bag of it. Since I’ve never made anything with kale before (although I have eaten it) we decided to try something simple, and make a soup with it. And you know what?

I think it turned out pretty well.

Chop up a cup of carrots and a cup of celery, and throw ‘em in a dutch oven with a couple tablespoons of olive oil. If you want, toss some onion in there, too, and cook until tender. While that’s cooking, cut the kale leaves off the stems, and then cut the leaves into smaller pieces. When the carrots are tender, toss the kale and three cups of stock into the dutch oven and bring to a boil. When it starts boiling, turn the burner off, cover the pan, and let it simmer for three minutes.

Once done simmering, toss a can of black beans, a can of cannelli beans, and a can of white corn in with all the other stuff. Also take another cup of stock and another can of cannelli beans and pulverize them in a food processor. Toss that in the dutch oven, as well, and bring it all to a boil. When it’s boiling, turn the burner off and let the soup sit there, adding half a cup of red white, some cracked black pepper, and, oh, a teaspoon or so of crushed rosemary. Let it sit for five minutes, then ladle it out and enjoy.

Like I said, I’ve never eaten kale as part of a soup before, but I think it mixed quite well with everything else we threw in there. I don’t see any reason why you couldn’t use any other beans instead of the black and cannelli; those were just the kinds we had lying around. I’m sure garbanzo beans would work as well, too. And it makes a lot--we each had a couple of bowlfuls, and there’s still enough for leftovers tonight.

So there you go. . .you wanted a recipe? You got a recipe! Do with it what you will. And make sure you come back tomorrow, because even though they lost the coin toss today, I WILL be discussing chipmunks then!

Thursday, March 22, 2018

Thursday, 3/22


It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

Yeah, I know that's been used as an opening line before, and by a writer much better than I, but it seemed appropriate after what I went through this morning. Like I mentioned yesterday, it's one of those weird times of the year—you can't bike yet, and the ski trails are deteriorating past the point where I want to tempt fate. So that leaves me one thing to do if I want to aerobically exercise—run.

And I've been doing a lot of that recently.

The only reason I mention that is that I went running again this morning, and within a half mile—the span of four or so minutes—I had the same thing happen to me twice, but with radically different results. The first occurred at Shiras Park. As I was running though, an unleashed dog jumped on me, and almost knocked me down. The dog's owner showed up a few seconds later, and when I tried to (politely) remind him about the city's leash law, he just gave me the finger.

Yes, I know you think your dog is more important than the humans who pay taxes to maintain the bike path upon which it was running unleashed. Whatever.

A few minutes later, I was at McCarty's Cove when another unleashed dog came bounding toward me. In this instance, though, I wasn't almost knocked down, and the woman to whom the dog belonged came over, leash in hand, and apologized to me. Her dog had jumped out of the car before she had the chance to leash him, and she hoped that the dog didn't startle me. I assured her all was okay, and continued along up the bike path.

I know I write about this topic way too much, and I'm not gonna say anything more about it except this—you know how I always say that 95% of Marquette dog owners are great people who respect their fellow residents, and it's the remaining five percent, who don't believe the city's pet laws apply to them, that spoil it for everyone else?

That's what I'm talking about.

*****

I don't know how this happened, but it looks like I have a busy day in front of me tomorrow. In the morning I'll be giving a tour to an NMU class looking for the history of Marquette's lake shore, while in the afternoon I'll be doing a live broadcast at Art Van. I'm really gonna have to have a talk with the person who schedules me to do all these things on the same day.

Oh, wait...

8-)



Wednesday, March 21, 2018

Wednesday, 3/21

I miss riding my bike.

I know I’ve written in here before about my life-long love of riding a bike, using it for transportation, pleasure, and exercise, so I won’t bore you with a recap of that. But it’s getting around that time of the year here when you seem to start REALLY missing all of the things you’re able to do when there’s not snow being whipped extra high by a wind blowing around 25 miles per hour off of the lake. You really start to get a little tired of brushing off your car, shoveling off your sidewalk, and knocking the snow off your boots every time you walk inside.

It’s funny, because you don’t even give a second thought to any of this when it’s nice out and you don’t have to think about dealing with the snow and the cold. You just take for granted the fact that you can walk outside and do what you need to do, including hopping on your bike and just going. . .wherever you want to go

I’ve lived here long enough (or just plain LIVED long enough) to know that it’ll probably be another few weeks or so before I can even think about starting to consider the possibility of someday going out on my bike and not having to worry about patches of snow or ice on the paths, or of getting windburn on your face if you ride more than 2 miles an hour. Yes, I know I could splurge and get a fat tire bike, allowing me to ride year long, wrapped up in 16 layers of clothing, but I'm staying old school, at least for the time being.

I’m sure that will be a joyous day when it happens; heck, when I was a kid, I couldn’t wait until the day when enough snow had melted away from the storage shed in the backyard of my parents’ house on Norway that I could hack through it and get my bike out. And while I don’t have to hack through the snow to get to my bike any more, I still await that first day when the streets are clear enough and the air is warm enough to allow me to check the tires, oil the chain, and head out for ride.

Even if it’s still weeks or a month or so away.



Tuesday, March 20, 2018

Tuesday, 3/20


I wonder why more people haven’t been talking about. Maybe they don’t even know.

First of all, I’m back. I had a good (but busy) day off yesterday. Although Radio Jim didn’t go to work, both TV Jim and History Jim were busy shooting ‘year in review” shows and putting together a tour for NMU students that’s happening this Friday. So I’m thinking that I may soon have to take a day off just to recover from my day off.

But that’s in the future. While I was out and about yesterday I noticed the continuation of something, something I’ve been noticing for a couple of months now but something I’ve not heard anyone else comment upon. And given the way people howl about gas prices, I’m surprised no one else has jumped on this.

Did you know that gas prices at the stations in downtown Marquette (Krist, Freedom, Admiral) are 15 cents a gallon lower than those on US-41 heading west out of Marquette? Seriously; it’s something I’ve been noticing recently, and confirmed while I was out and about yesterday. Prices at downtown stations were around $2.48 a gallon, while on the highway they were $2.64 a gallon.

Yup. If you head into the city gas is 16 cents a gallon (at least as of yesterday) cheaper.

Like I said, this is something I’ve been noticing for a while now, and it’s a something that’s made me laugh a little, if only because I don’t have to buy gas and aren’t subjected to the various whims of the gas market. But if you’re a tourist driving on US-41 through Marquette, or someone who does a lot of shopping on the city’s west side, or someone heading home to the West End after your day of work, and you need to fill up, it’ll cost you. In fact, if your car has a 20 gallon tank it’ll cost you an extra 3 bucks, whereas if you filled up one mile to the east, if you filled up downtown, you’d save that three bucks.

Hmm.

Most complaints about gas prices in Marquette (and there have been a LOT the past few years) have dealt with two things—just how high they are compared to the rest of the state, and just how uniform each and every station seemed to be in charging those high prices. But now the latter is completely different, and given how people love to complain about oil companies and gas prices, I’m shocked that no one has raised a big stink about the disparity between the prices at stations just a mile apart.

Who knows; maybe people have given up complaining about gas prices and have moved on to complaining about glass recycling. Maybe people are okay with stations charging more on a busy highway than on a city street. Like I said, it makes no difference to me whatsoever; I’m just shocked that given the volume on the discussions about gas prices that no one else seems to have picked up on it.

And it apparently doesn’t bother people; driving past one of the highway stations I saw a string of cars waiting to fill up, while a few minutes later at one of the downtown stations the pumps were mostly empty. Maybe it’s just a classic example of the law of supply & demand—more people fill up on the highway, so you charge them more at those locations. I get that. But based on the amount of complaining people have done about paying for fuel, you’d think more of them would’ve noticed the disparity and have gone to where the demand –and the prices—are lower.

I’m not an economist, nor do I play one on TV. But I have the sneaking suspicion that once people do find out about the difference in gas prices—or once they care enough about it—that the downtown stations will soon find themselves with a lot more business.



Friday, March 16, 2018

Friday, 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, say, the beginning of next 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 to 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, 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 at night. Lots and lots of water.

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

Anyway, happy St. Patrick-Urho 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), who WILL be taking Monday off for a 3-day weekend. Back with new stuff on Tuesday!

Thursday, March 15, 2018

Thursday, 3/15


I wonder if it's time for another update?

I woke up on the middle of the night last night with a strange thought in my head. It wasn't a bad thought, like “I'm gonna die some day”, nor was it a good thought, along the lines of “I wonder if I should've eaten more pie I should have for Pi Day yesterday?” Nope; instead, it was the thought that it's been almost three years since I updated “107 Things to Love About Marquette County”and I should probably check to see if it needs to be updated.

I know. I have boring things that keep me up in the middle of the night, don't I?

Since my brain apparently thought it was important I did check, and in the three years since I last updated it five things or people on the list no longer exist, while another four need to be changed because the circumstances around them are different. That's nine things out of 107, or about eight percent of the entire list, so I'm not quite sure why, but my subconscious brain may have been onto something when it woke me up last night.

Yay.

As I always mention when I write the list, it is a highly subjective thing. It's based on the places I go, the people I know, and the things I like. But every time I do an update (and I think I've done four so far, after originally writing it in 2000) I always solicit input from other people. After all, Marquette County is an amazing place, and I don't have the time (or the interest, I guess) to do everything there is to do. I have my own little corner of it, and I depend upon other people to fill me in on what goes on in all the other little corners.

So, if you get so incredibly bored that even watching the paint dry on your wall no longer holds a thrill, check out the list. See if there's something not on there you think should be on there. Then, if I update it sometime in the next month or so, I can add it, and even give you credit for pointing it out to me.

Thanks!



Wednesday, March 14, 2018

Wednesday, 3/14


You know, it makes me think there still might be hope for our little corner of the multiverse.

Being (among many other things) a political junkie, the first thing I did when I woke up this morning was to check my newsfeed and see who won the Pennsylvania Congressional race last night. What I saw below that, though, blew my mind a little. Every major news organization, advocacy group, celebrity, TV show, and even the Foo Fighters, in their own profane way, marked with sadness the passing of Dr. Stephen Hawking.

Who knew?

I don't think anyone's surprised at his death at the age of 74; I think most people who knew of him were glad he lived and worked as long as he did. But the outpouring of admiration and grief following his passing took me, at least, a little by surprise. I always assumed most people knew of him, if at all, as the guy in the wheelchair who would make cameo appearances on “The Big Bang Theory” and “The Simpsons”, or the guy that one dude played in that one movie a few years ago (Eddie Redmayne in “The Theory of Everything”). But as it turns out, a theoretical physicist whose work on trying to understand the space-time continuum will truly be missed.

And that's what gives me hope.

We seem to live in a world where science is suspect, facts aren't real, and evidence can be made up or ignored, depending upon your whim and/or your motives. I'm hopeful it's just a passing phase, that one day historians will look back upon our time and wonder just what the heck people in the 21st century were smoking. But some days, it's hard to be hopeful. And then there are days like today, when the outpouring of admiration for one of the greatest minds of our generation flows from all corners of the globe. Maybe there is hope after all. Maybe Hawking's passing will give people a chance to stop, take a breath, and realize that the fundamental forces that guide our universe can't be ignored, made up, or changed to fit a political viewpoint.

Well, a boy can dream, right?

The fact that Dr, Hawking died on Pi Day seems to be fitting for an individual who was this generation's Albert Einstein. Maybe his death will now prompt someone from another generation to make the leap and expand our knowledge of the universe (or universes) in which we live.



Tuesday, March 13, 2018

Tuesday, 3/13


Geez—just how many people have to wake up THAT early?

Sunday, following the switch to Daylight Saving Time, I posted a little thing to Facebook similar to the blog I put up Friday—namely, that if we didn't have DST, the sun would rise before 5 am during summer months here in Marquette. I got a lot of reaction from people, most of whom were shocked that the sun would come up that early. But I was also amazed by the very sizable number of people who said they wouldn't care if the sun came up before 5 am.

Because they're already awake at that time.

Not only are they awake every day before 5 am but several of the people who answered said they're at work before 5 am. That blows my mind; not being a morning person, I always thought that five am might be a suitable time for actually going to bed. But to be up, awake, and at work before that time?

Inconceivable.

A couple of years ago Loraine gave me a coffee cup as a joke, a cup that says “It's hard for a night person to work days”, and trust me—it is. There's a reason I've never worked mornings in radio. My mind and my body just couldn't handle it. I don't know what it is, but I function as a much lower level than normal until about noon or so. I'm usually able to cover it up rather well, but I don't hit my peak until later in the day.

Which is why, I guess, I can't imagine actually being at work at 5 in the morning.

I realize that I may be a freak in this instance. It sure wouldn't be the first time. But as hard as it is for me to wake up that early I know that there are many people for whom it's a natural thing. There are many people who naturally wake up at the crack of dawn, if not before, all bright eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready to tackle the world. Those are the people who really could care less if the sun rose before 5 am. I guess I always knew that there were people like that.

I just didn't know there were so many of them.

So to those people who are up early and working while the rest of us are blissfully snoozing, good for you. Thanks for making sure the world is ready for the rest of us when we wake up. However, just because you're awake and really don't care doesn't mean that trhe rest of us want the sun to come up at five in the morning.

I'm just saying...

8-)



Monday, March 12, 2018

Monday, 3/12


A week from today I might do something wild & crazy. A week from today I might do something way out of the ordinary. A week from today I might do something I hardly ever do.

A week from today I may take the day off.

The last time I had an “official” day off of work would've been the last Friday we were in Germany, and that was over six months ago. Since then, I've had a couple of holiday and weekend days off, but even on those days I was probably doing something at home for work, or dealing with some kind of problem that had cropped up. I'm not complaining or anything; after all, that's part of the joy of being me. But every once in awhile I think I deserve a day off.

Don't you?

I know some of you (especially those of you who know me) may be thinking “Jim, you never take time off during the winter”, and you'd be right. I almost always save my time off for days when I can play outside in the sun. But there are two things in play here—one is that I have a lot of vacation time I need to use up. The other is that I've forgotten what a three day (or a two day, or even a one day) weekend is like. It might be nice to re-introduce myself!

I have no idea what I'll do if I take Monday off. If it's “nice” out (with “nice”, of course, being a comparative term) maybe I'll go running when I'm actually awake for once. If there's fresh snow, maybe I'll go skiing. Maybe I'll take my camera out. If it's not nice out? Maybe I'll read a book. Maybe I'll take a nap. Maybe I'll surprise Loraine with a nice dinner or some of her favorite brownies. It doesn't matter.

It'll just be nice having the day off.

I haven't totally decided yet, but I need to soon. After all, when I take a day off it means that I have to work ahead to get everything done for that extra day. But since I've actually had to start working ahead for the European trip coming up in just under six months (I kid you not) I can piggy-back onto that. And that's one of the reasons I'm thinking of taking Monday off.

I'll let you know how things go in the next day or two. Wish me luck!



Friday, March 9, 2018

Friday, 3/9


Once again, some of us are obviously separated by denominational differences.

I guess I didn't realize it, but there's a sizable contingent of people out there who are opposed to Daylight Savings Time, at least based on what I've seen on social media leading up to switching our clocks ahead Sunday morning. There are people out there who don't like the jet lag associated with it, there are parents out there who don't like how it affects their kids, and there are people out there who are just philosophically opposed to it because we're no longer a nation of farmers.

So, of course, I have to be one of the people who actually LIKES Daylight Savings Time. But you wouldn't expect any less from me, right?

The reason I like Daylight Savings Time is probably the reason others don't. Because of my schedule and my lifestyle, I like it darker in the morning and lighter late at night. During the summer, if it's light until 10 pm...great. It means I can play outside when I get off of work. But if we didn't have DST, it'd be getting dark an hour earlier, which means that, if I had to work late, I couldn't enjoy an extra hour of evening. And if we didn't have Daylight Savings Time, the sun would start coming up, at least here in the U.P., before 5 in the morning, which means that around half of my sleep cycle would be disrupted.

And that, on a purely personal level, would suck.

But if wouldn't be as bad as it would be for our friends 60 miles from here. If we didn't have Daylight Savings Time, during the summer the sun would start coming up in Dickinson County, which is in the Central Time Zone, between 3:45 and four AM.

That's right. Without Daylight Savings Time, during June the sun would rise in Dickinson County at 4am. In what world is THAT right?

Now like I said, the reasons I like Daylight Savings Time are purely personal. I'm probably in the minority, at least based on the vociferous complaints I've seen the past few days. And I realize that because we're quite far north and because we're right on the edge of a time zone, that not having Daylight Savings Time would lead to us having to deal with some outlandish sunrise and sunset extremes. But still...

Who wouldn't rather have the sun set later at night instead of at (gulp) five (or even four) in the morning?

To quote a coffee mug I have somewhere...it's hard not being a morning person.

8-)

Have yourself a great weekend. Hopefully you'll make the adjustment with little or no problems!


Thursday, March 8, 2018

Thursday, 3/8


The 40th season of “High School Bowl” is in the books, and no one died.

That's a joke, of course, I don't believe anyone's actually passed away because of the show, and I can tell you with good authority that's it's been almost four years since anyone ever cried during the program. Yesterday, we taped the semi-finals and finals for this year, and for the 40th time a team walked away as champs.

I just won't tell you who. You'll have to watch in April to find out.

In one small way, this was a bit of a bittersweet year for me hosting the show. I started doing it four years ago, during a season when a lot of the teams were rebuilding and had a lot of freshman on them. Well, that was four years ago, which means that all throughout the season this year I've had to say goodbye to young men & women with whom I've spent my entire time on the show.

In some cases, it really won't be the same without them. And I wish them all good luck and good fortune in the years to come.

So now I get to spend six months without having to get dressed up on a weekly basis. Actually, I should rephrase that. I now get to spend six months without having any reason to get dressed up on a weekly basis. I still do like to get dressed up a day or two a week even when I'm not on TV, if only so I don't forget how to tie a tie and to remind myself that I AM, despite all appearances to the contrary, an adult. I usually do it on Mondays, too, because Mondays can be hard and I need all the help I can get.

As do we all, right?

It's funny; the first thing the people at Public TV ask me these days is some form of the phrase “You ARE coming back next year, right?” Of course I am; I have a blast doing it. And besides—it's nice having a reason to get dressed up on days of the week other than Monday.

(jim@wmqt.com), already looking forward to season five!


Wednesday, March 7, 2018

Wednesday, 3/7


Does the fun ever end when Mr. Sunflower's involved?

I think I've spoken about Mr. Sunflower in here before; he's our station Facebook mascot, one I started putting in posts when I realized that having him in there increased (for whatever reason) the number of people who see our posts. Over the years Mr. Sunflower the the cast of characters surrounding him (and yes, there is a cast of characters surrounding him) have provided countless additional “likes” and impressions for us.

So thank you, Mr. Sunflower.

Someone asked me where I get the pictures we post of him, and as you can probably guess I take 'em all. In fact, the ones I've been using over the past few months were all taken one Saturday last October when it was it was 80-some degrees. Because I'm me I went out with my camera, walked around part of the east side of Marquette, and snapped away. I took so many pictures that day, in fact, that I'm still set through the next few months.

Go figure.

Anyway, since it's yucky out today I thought I'd put a little sunshine in your life with some of the pictures we've been posting through the winter. We'd shared pictures of Mr. Sunflower's new ID badge from work--



His attempts at a new hairstyle for the new year--





He and his best friend Mr Bee--



And even a rare picture of Mr. Sunflower and his ex-fiancee, a picture that accompanied the shocking news that the two of then used to be Olympic ice dancers--




Still to come, some day? The story of how they broke up. I don't want to give away too many details; let's just say it involved a bottle of wine, a warm evening, and a pole vaulter from Estonia. And that's all I'm gonna say for now.

Finally, we've recently been featuring Mr. Sunflower and his other friend Ms. Butterfly as they've started training for a co-ed team marathon--



We expect great things from the two of them in the next few months. In fact, I'll even throw in a sneak peak at the shot we'll be sharing with our Facebook fans next week of the two of them training--



That's a Mr. Sunflower picture no one's yet seen!

If you wanna follow along with his adventures throughout the year, just make sure you're a fan of our station Facebook page. I, meanwhile, should get going, as I'm about to tape the final episodes of “High School Bowl” for the season. Spoiler-free details on how that went tomorrow!


Tuesday, March 6, 2018

Tuesday, 3/6


Even though he died a couple of decades before I was born, I've always kind of considered Charlie Pong a friend.

During last Friday's blog about Phil I quoted a newspaper article written about another downtown Marquette “man about town” named Charlie Pong, and I've had several people ask about him. I checked back, and it doesn't look like I've written much about him in here over the years.

That all changes now.

Charlie Pong was a very popular business owner in Marquette in the first half of the 20th century. He had a Chinese laundry (yes, those actually did exist) at several locations in the city, most notably where the parking lot on Washington Street across from where the post office now sits. He came to the U.S. In the 1910s to work with his cousin Pong Lee, who had opened the laundry and needed someone to take it over. And take it over Charlie did, running it for several decades and becoming a much beloved member of the Marquette business community.

Now, here's the thing about Charlie Pong. Over the decades, any money that he made in his business he sent back to family in China, so even though he was the successful business owner, when he died in 1949 he was penniless. In fact, because he left no money for a funeral or a burial, he was slated to be buried in Potter’s Field at Park Cemetery. When his fellow downtown business owners found out about that, they all pitched in and bought him a burial plot and a headstone to go along with it.

That's how beloved Charlie Pong was.

He was buried under a pine tree, and like all pine trees it leaks onto Charlie's headstone. So once a year I go over and clean it off. Sure, it might be a dorky thing to do (like many things I do) but it's something I enjoy doing. Not only am I paying tribute to a Marquette icon, but I'd like to think I'm just carrying on a tradition started by those business owners who collected money for his grave almost 70 years ago.

And you know what? I don't think I'm the only one. This hasn't happened every year, but there have been several years where someone puts plastic flowers on his grave. Seriously, they do. I have no idea who puts the flowers there. I can’t imagine that after seven decades there’s still someone from that group of business owners around, although stranger things have happened. But who knows. . .maybe a child of one of the business owners remembers hearing the stories dad told about Mr. Pong, and decided to keep the tradition going. That would make sense. Of course, it would also make sense that there’s someone else, someone like me, just an individual who heard the stories about Charlie and decided to mark his life and his contribution to Marquette with flowers instead of a clean headstone.

All I know is that the flowers do keep appearing. Not every year, but they still keep appearing.

That's the story of my “friend” Charlie Pong. Now you know.


Monday, March 5, 2018

Monday, 3/5


If there's one thing I could change about myself, it would be that.

Actually, there are probably many things I'd like to change about myself. But after going to two funerals in the past five days (Phil's yesterday, and one for one of my Mom's close cousins this past Wednesday) I definitely know the one thing I really do need to change about myself, whether I have the power to or not.

And that's to remember people's names.

There were a number of far-flung relatives and members of the Marquette community I ran into at those funerals, and I'm almost embarrassed to mention the number of times people came up to me and greeted me by name. I'm even more embarrassed to mention how many times I either didn't know who they were or knew I knew them but couldn't remember their names. Thankfully, when I owned up to my inadequacies the people in mention were cool about it.

Even if I wasn't.

There are actually two parts to this problem. The first is that because of who I am I meet a lot of people, oftentimes in groups. So if I get introduced to six or seven people at a time I have to remember six or seven names, while the people to whom I'm introduced only have to remember me. Not that that's an excuse; after all, there are many people who are in the exact same situation and can handle it without any difficulty.

But not me.

The other part of the problem just seems to be a structural problem or inefficiency in my brain. I've tried different tricks and different methods for remembering people's names, but none of them seem to work. Sure, I can hear an obscure history fact or pop culture reference and it's lodged in my brain forever, ready for instant recall. But the name of someone I've met or someone to whom I'm related? Not so much.

I'm a quality human being, aren't I?

So if we've ever met once or twice before and I'm supposed to know who you are, let me apologize in advance. There may be a point in the future where we meet again, you greet me like a normal human being, and I just smile back and utter the phrase “And remind me who you are again”? It's not you. It's me.

And it's something I would very much like to change about myself.

*****

This is shaping up to be a very busy week. I have to shoot the final group of “High School Bowl”s for the season, I have to work two or three evenings because high school basketball teams keep winning when they weren't supposed to and I told my part-timers they could take spring break off, and we have a big party we're hosting Saturday night at NMU's hockey game. So if you happen to see a “best of” scattered throughout the the new stuff this week, I once again apologize in advance.

Something I seem to be doing a lot of recently...


Friday, March 2, 2018

Friday, 3/2


I started the week writing about Phil. I might as well finish it that way.

I was looking through some of my old history notes last night, trying to find a few facts that we could use for the “100 Questions” trivia contest the History Center is holding next month. I have this big box that holds all my notes, scripts, and pictures from past programs, and while looking through the box I came across two things that pertain to Phil.

And since his funeral is Sunday, I figured I'd share them.

The first comes from the “Lost Buildings” show that Jack & I put on six or seven years ago. One of the buildings we talked about was the old Mining Journal building, which sat where the Pocket Park—excuse me, the “Phil Niemisto Pocket Park”--now sits. In the 1930s the Mining Journal building housed the Mining Journal's radio station, which we now know as WDMJ. One of the things Phil did as a kid at the Orphanage was to go with other orphans and sing on the radio. Back then, before networks or computers, radio stations had to put every single thing they did on the air live, and often used local talent to fill their daily schedule. That's why groups from the Marquette Orphanage sang on the radio. Anyway, when discussing the old Mining Journal building with Phil, he marveled at the fact that he started his “public career” at that location, and that he'd probably end it there, too, tending his flowers in the very same place where he sang as a child.

The very same place where his statue now sits.

The other thing I came across? Well, it wasn't about Phil per se, but was instead about a previous icon of downtown Marquette, one I talked about during the “Amazing Tales” show a couple of winters ago. The individual who was the subject of the tale was Charlie Pong, who owned a laundry back in the 30s and 40s and died without a penny to his name, having sent all of his money back to family in China. Charlie was so well liked that Marquette business owners took up a collection and bought him a headstone and plot in Park Cemetery, lest he wind up in Potter's Field.

Part of my story about Pong was quoting from a newspaper article after his death, and it read “People have enough sense to recognize the fine dignity of the man, his gentle courtesy, his appreciation of the kindness they encountered, his decent pride, and his sense of individual integrity”. Even though the comments were about Charlie Pong, I threw in the off-handed comment that it reminded me of Phil, as well, at which point the 500 or so people at Kaufman burst into applause.

When I told Phil him about that, he merely laughed and said, “Oh, they don't know me very well, do they?”.

That was Phil, and as many other people have noted, downtown Marquette just isn't the same without him. If you haven't heard or if you're interested, his funeral is Sunday at the Masonic Building's Red Room (the big theater they have in there). Visitation is from 11 until 2, the funeral itself is at 2.





Thursday, March 1, 2018

Thursday, 3/1


I've been doing them for almost four years now, but I have yet to see one of them.

Everyone who reads these ramblings on even an occasional basis is well aware of my gig hosting "High School Bowl" on Public TV 13. But I'm guessing not everyone who reads these ramblings on even an occasional basis knows that I've had another TV gig, one that actually started a few months before “High School Bowl”, and that would be hosting the “On The Town” bits that air every Thursday night during Fox U.P.'s 10pm newscast.

See? You didn't know, did you?

For those of you who DON'T know what it is, it's a weekly 90 second spot talking about events that are going on around the U.P. during the upcoming weekend. It gets taped at the station Tuesdays, Tyler adds some video to it, and it then goes out to everyone in Upper Michigan. Or, at least, everyone who's watching the newscast. And since I've never actually seen one of the bits, I'm guessing that doesn't include me.

I know that there are people watching. Twice in the past three weeks I've had people come up to me and mention that enjoy the bits and they enjoy knowing what's going on. And I'm happy that people get something out of them; after all, that's why I agreed to do it. Yet because I'm on TV waaaaaaaay too much as it is, I don't feel the need to personally check it out. I was there when it was taped, so I know what events are going on. Anything else would, at least in my mind, be a display of narcissism that would shame even a politician.

Yet I'm thinking that I should probably watch it once, just to take sure that Fox U.P. isn't doing anything to embarrass me and, more importantly, to make sure I'm not doing anything to embarrass myself. After all, I do watch “High School Bowl”, and even though I really don't like seeing myself on TV, I have noticed a whole bunch of little things that have allowed me to improve my performance on that show as my tenure as host goes on. And even though “On The Town” is only a 90 second stand-up (as opposed to an hour long show) doesn't it deserve the same attention?

I agree. And while I don't know if it'll be tonight, it should be some time soon. After all, I DO put some work into it. I should make sure the work is paying off, right?