Friday, 11/30

I've been talking about food and/or grocery stores all week, so why stop now?

Right?

Actually, it's just something I observed while eating dinner last night, something so...strange that it made a piece of spinach shoot out of my mouth because I was laughing so hard at the absurdity of it all.

Sorry about that, Loraine.

Okay.  What made me laugh so hard that a piece of spinach went shooting out of my mouth? Well, it was in a flier for a local grocery store (one of the ones I actually mentioned in yesterday's blog). One of the deals they have coming up is this—if you buy 4 of one item, you get a fifth, separate item for free. It's something grocery stores do all the time and, usually, the items are grouped together by some common thread. You know, buy four boxes of cake mixes and get a container for free; something along those lines. So just what was this particular grouping, the one that made me laugh so hard spinach went shooting out of my mouth?

Buy four Healthy Choice frozen dinners, and get a container of ice cream free.

No, I'm not making that up. I couldn't make it up if I tried. I wasn't seeing things, either. After I apologized to Loraine for shooting spinach out of my mouth I showed her, and she saw it too. There is a currently a deal at a local grocery store—buy four things that are healthy (heck, “Healthy” is even in the name!) and get a tub of fat absolutely free.

Now you see why I laughed so hard that spinach flew out of my mouth?

I don't know why the store stuck those items together. I don't know if the store just got a great deal on a bulk buy of ice cream and needs to get rid of it, or if someone actually sat down and said “you know, we should pair a low calorie dinner with a high calorie dessert. That makes sense, right?” I mean, sure it makes sense, or at least as much sense as going into a restaurant and ordering four pieces of cheesecake and a Diet Coke. But there it is, in the flier in black and white (or red, black, & white, if you wanna be technical). Buy four “healthy” dinners, and get a tub of ice cream for free.

America. What a country.

8-)

On that note, have yourself a great weekend. If you're in Marquette, enjoy many of the church bazaars and public open houses going on the next few days. And if you go grocery shopping, I hope all of your deals are as healthy as the one I just described!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 11/29

Since I've written about either food & grocery stores so far this week, how about if we combine the two today?

Thanks for your indulgence.

If you've been reading these over the years you may have picked up on the fact that, for the most part, I try to eat well. I try to avoid fast foods, overly processed foods, and foods that aren't really “foods”, foods that are just made up of chemicals and additives and shaped to look like “food”. Even the “bad' things I eat, like chocolate, are the “good” versions of the food.

So I try my best.

It may not, however, come as a surprise that I have a food that's a guilty pleasure. It's a food that I don't believe I've ever seen in a 'good” versions, and while I don't eat it a lot I do savor the times when I break down and ingest it. And that guilty pleasure is?

Cornbread.

Yup; I know I don't seem like a cornbread-loving kind of person, but I am. I know it's not good for me; it's basically a grain with all the good stuff removed combined with sugar and a bunch of fatty oils, but there's just something about it that I can't resist. So when I noticed that two Marquette grocery stores started selling freshly-made cornbread, I couldn't resist, even though it means eating 1,500 calories of gunk that could instead be used for healthy whole grains, fruits, and vegetables.

But it's cornbread...and there's something about cornbread that I just can't resist.

Anyway, the first grocery store started selling it when they remodeled a year or so ago, and I have to admit I partook of it a little more than I should have. Then I did something else I probably shouldn't have, and that's read the ingredients list they stuck on the back of the container. I noticed that instead of sugar the store uses high fructose corn syrup, which is something I try to avoid at all costs. So for a few months, I had to live without cornbread.

It was hard.

Then a few weeks ago we were at a recently opened grocery store, and I noticed they had a slab of cornbread for sale. They make theirs with sugar, which obviously meant that I had to buy it and try it out, just to see if it was any different than the cornbread I'd previously been eating. A larger than usual (gulp) one pound container of calories later I was totally satisfied, not only by the cornbread but by the fact that it had sugar in it. Sure, I had just eaten around 2,000 calories, but at least those calories didn't include high fructose corn syrup.

Yes, I know I need help. What's your point?

Thankfully, I don't eat cornbread all that often. If I ate it every time I felt like it, I have the feeling I'd be adding another 20 or 30 pounds to my 160-pound frame. Besides, can you imagine what all that processed grain and fully saturated fat would do to a body not used to it? I shudder to think. However, I am human, and I do have the occasional temptation. So if you ever run into me in a grocery store and you happen to see one of those one-pound bricks of cornbread in my cart, realize it's not part of my everyday diet.

It's just a guilty pleasure.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 11/28

I'm bummed. I'm not totally surprised, but I'm bummed.

The news that Valle's Market in Marquette is closing in a few weeks spread like wildfire Monday and yesterday. The growing increase in competition from big box stores in and around the city is cited as the reason, and like I said, I'm not totally surprised that a small, family-owned neighborhood market couldn't make it.

But I'll really miss it.

I was usually at Valle's several times a week, not necessarily to do all my shopping but to pick up stuff I needed. It was a 12-minute walk from my apartment to the store, which means that it was literally quicker for me to hike down there and get milk & toilet paper (or whatever I needed) than it was to fire up the car, drive to one of the big stores, park, stand in line, and then get home. For me, at least, Valle's truly was a neighborhood market, especially when I was able to make that walk on a warm summer day.

Of course, like almost everyone, I didn't do all my “shopping” there, so in a way I guess I'm partly responsible for it not hanging on. Like most people, I didn't think of it as a “grocery” store; instead, it was a convenient place to pick up whatever I needed at the moment or whatever I forgot at another store. It was just one of many stores I go (or went) to; I go to Farmer Qs, I go to the Co-op, I go to Super One or Econo, and I go (or went) to Valle's. But, like everyone else, I didn't do my “shopping” there.

So, I guess, it's partly my fault.

I'm not quite sure what I'll do now. If I do need to pick up something for a baking project or if I notice we're running short of milk I'll no longer have the convenience of walking down the street and getting it. There are a couple of party stores nearby, so I supposed that might suffice as far as milk goes, but everything else? Now I will have fire up the car (or my bike, if it's summer) and make my way from the East side of Marquette all the way to the West, find a parking spot (or a bike rack), and trudge through a building as big as a city block to find the one thing I need. Then I'll have to fire up the car (or my bike) again, and dodge traffic to make it back home with my eggs or the avocado I didn't get at another store.

I totally understand why Valle's is closing, but that doesn't mean it makes it any easier. They were an amazing asset for those of us who lived nearby, and I will miss not only the convenience they offered, but the friendly people who worked there.

Thanks for being part of the neighborhood, guys.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 11/27

The experiment was quite the success.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about trying to come up with my Christmas cookie list for the year, and mentioned that I'm always thinking of ways to tweak or to upgrade some of the cookies. Well, in the course of exploring new ideas, I came across something that intrigued me. I mentioned it to Loraine, who then opined that the new idea would actually work well with one of my existing cookies.

Lo and behold, she was right. So without further ado, I present the Nutella-stuffed Nutella cookie--

Yup. It's a cookie with dough that includes Nutella, all wrapped around a gooey Nutella center.

If that doesn't scream “Christmas', I don't know what does.

8-)

I've never actually made a cookie (or a lava cake) with a gooey center before, but it was surprisingly easy, although a little messy. You actually have to freeze the Nutella into balls before you make the cookies, which is simple. But then you have to handle the frozen Nutella when making them, and since frozen Nutella melts REALLY quickly in human hands, just be forewarned--

You'll be washing your hands a lot.

After I made the cookies yesterday I was sitting around thinking of ways that they could be amped up even more, and it seems like the cookies, when finished, could be sprinkled with various spices to make them even stranger. You could dust them with cinnamon, or ginger, or even red pepper or Cayenne flakes, if you were adventurous. Or, you could just eat them plain.

Trust me. That option is quite easy.

This will now replace the plain 'ol “boring” Nutella cookies that I usually make for the holidays, which means that I now have something “new”. I don't need to come up with something I haven't done before, because while I HAVE made Nutella cookies before, they haven't been stuffed with even more Nutella. And sometimes, that's all you need for a cookie, “new” or not.

******

The recipe, should you want to try them yourself?

Make 24 teaspoon-sized balls of Nutella, and freeze them

Then mix:

1 stick butter

¾ cup sugar

¾ cup Nutella

1 egg

1 tsp vanilla

After that, mix together

2 cups flour

1 tsp baking soda

½ tsp salt

And add that to the wet stuff. Then take that dough, and wrap bits of it around each frozen ball of Nutella. Make at 350 for 10 minutes. When done, eat in copious amounts.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 11/26

200 millions pounds. That's how much leftover turkey there was in this country after Thanksgiving.

That may not be much of a surprise to anyone who shared dinner with family and/or friends last week. I know I'm still eating some that I brought home from the celebration at my parents. Unlike some people, I actually don't mind; I think that leftover turkey sandwiches are among the best things you can eat. But I know not everyone's like that. With that in mind, a couple of years ago I came up with a list of what you can do with the leftover turkey that's still sitting in your fridge.

So...tired of leftover turkey sandwiches? Try one of these--

Turkey chili

Turkey tacos

Turkey pot pies

Turkey pasties

Turkey casserole

Turkey croquets

Turkey canapés

Turkey jerky

Turkey latte

Turkey nog

Turkey & cranberry smoothies

Turkey bread

Turkey granola

German turkey cake

Turkey & sweet potato jam

Home-made turkey Pop Tarts

And. . .frozen turkey doorstops.

Hopefully, you won’t have so much leftover turkey that you make it to the bottom of this list, but if you indeed have your share of those 200 millions pounds, there you go. Good luck!

Tomorrow, the story of another food, one that might be described as my culinary guilty pleasure.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 11/21

Guess who's celebrating a birthday today?

That's right; the most amazing woman in the world turns another year younger today. I don't know how she does it, but I don't think she looks a day older than she did, say, last century.

But then she's amazing, so what do you expect?

This is one of my favorite recent pictures of her, taken on Herreninsel on Lake Chiemsee in Germany, one of the homes of her BFF King Ludwig II. There are many things I love about her, but one of the best is the passion into which she throws herself when pursuing a new interest. A couple of years ago we're traipsing through Germany with our parents, we visit a castle on a rainy day, and before I know it the two of us are heading back to Germany, visiting many castles on many rainy (& sunny) days, and just having a blast, a trip entirely planned by her.

Not only that, but she also wrote this 80+ page “brief” beforehand so we'd both know what we're looking at and looking for. That's how amazing she is.

And that's just one of her talents. You know about the books she's written, the honors she's received, and everything else that she's able to do. Being a bit of a shy person (yes, despite what I just said, Loraine IS a bit of a shy person) she doesn't necessarily like to shine the spotlight of achievements on herself. But I'm married to her. I'm proud of what she does. And I'll keep mentioning things like her books and her trip planning abilities and the fact that she defies aging. Why?

Because people deserve to know that I'm not kidding. She really IS the Most Amazing Woman in the World.

So Happy Birthday, Loraine. I hope you're enjoying your Chocolate-Hazelnut Gelato!

(Lotsa) love,

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 11/20

I guess my DNA is a gift that keeps on giving.

Those of you who read this regularly may remember that earlier this year I finally sent some spit into Ancestry to find out why my skin is darker than the average white person (refresher, in case you don't remember--I'm apparently part Iberian/Moroccan). One of the things the website does is update the findings as they get more data in and can refine the results, so when I received an e-mail from them telling me my results have been updated; well, you can imagine just how fast I clicked on it.

And even though the change only affected part of my heritage, it was still interesting.

The update actually deals with my maternal grandfather's side of the family, the Schwemin side. When I received the results earlier this year I was in no way surprised that I was 17% German/Prussian/ European East; after all, I knew my grandfather's grandfather had come to the UP from Germany. But the update has narrowed that down a little bit. It now appears as if 9% of my DNA comes from “Germanic Europe”; specifically, what is now Northeastern Germany, while 8% comes from northern Poland or the Baltic states (Latvia, Lithuania, or Estonia), all places that were part of the Prussian empire in the 17 & 1800s.

So now I know. It looks as if I had a great-great-great someone who came from the southern part of Prussia, and a great-great-great someone who came from the northern part of the empire. Isn't science wonderful?

It's also interesting in that the part of southern Prussia from which half of my grandfather's ancestors apparently hail is now the part of Germany where I will be visiting next spring. That's right; my ancestors came from somewhere in the area of the country that encompasses both Berlin and Leipzig, the two places where Loraine and I will be next April. That means I could be walking down the street in Berlin or into Red Bull Arena in Leipzig and have some long-lost 32^nd cousin unknowingly walk right past me.

How freaky would THAT be?

That's only one quarter of my family tree; with the way tests and samples are constantly refined, I can't wait to see what other interesting information pops up over the next few months on the other sides. After all, my grandmother, the woman married to the Prussian guy, always joked that she was related to British royalty. And according to Ancestry I am almost 40% British, especially on her side, so...

You never know!

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 11/19

It appears as if this is now a different world than the one in which I grew up. And it leaves me a little sad.

First of all, I'm not saying that today's world for a kid is better or worse than it was when I was a kid. After all, that was last century, and things change. It's not better now, nor is it worse now. It's just different now, as different as the 1940s or the 1950s were to when I grew up.

Change is a constant. That's a fact of life. It's not a bad thing.

That being said, here's now it's a different world than the one in which I grew up. As I mentioned last week, it was my nephew Abel's second birthday. I looked around a few stores to find a gift for him, a gift that would both appeal to a 2-year old and show off what a cool uncle he has. I tried to find him a spaceship. A rocket. Something that would show him about the wonders of space flight.

Guess what you can't find in stores any more?

I mean, you can find Transformer-like toys that could (loosely) be called spacecraft, and you could find a bunch of “Star Wars” vehicles that (theoretically) could fly in space. But I couldn't find a toy that's a realistic space craft. I couldn't find a shuttle, an old Apollo/Saturn V stack, or even a Space X Dragon capsule or the new STS booster. There was nothing along those lines available in any of the stores I checked.

I was bummed.

In all honesty, I didn't know if I actually expected to find any; after all, the US hasn't flown humans into space for seven years now. And I know that rockets and spaceflight aren't as magical to kids as they were to kids back when I was young (you know, the last century). So I wasn't totally surprised by what I found (or didn't find). But still—spaceflight is one of humankind's great, defining technical achievements.

Shouldn't kids know about that?

I ended up buying Abel something that all kids seem to like, a dinosaur puzzle. And I had to laugh at the irony. You can still buy toys of something that hasn't roamed the Earth for 65 million years. But something that left the Earth just seven years ago?

Not so much.

(jim@wmqt.com), a bit disappointed in things.

Friday, 11/16

It's wouldn't be strange to put “cow” on one's Christmas list, would it? I mean, that's something a normal person would do, right?

Just asking for a friend.

One of my big projects this weekend will be putting together my annual birthday/ Christmas list, alerting family members as to what they may consider picking up when shopping for those two events in December. For most of my life, I've included a few items that I know no one in the world could get me, either because of cost or because of the laws of physics. But they're things I'd enjoy. I started off all those years ago with “world peace” and “my own spaceship”, and about a decade ago I added “a 25^th hour to the day” to the suggestions. And now I'm wondering about tossing a fourth item onto the list.

One of these--

As I always say, I have NO idea why I find cows so fascinating, but I do. And by adding it to the flight of fancy with which I end my annual birthday/Christmas list it just shows that cows have made the leap up to equality with extra time and a spaceship. And think of how cool it would be if someone DID get me a cow. It would be sitting there under the tree on Christmas morning (or, in our case, because we have a tree that's only two feet high, more likely ON the Christmas tree), looking at me with those big cow eyes as my human eyes wept tears of joy. I could then take it for walks and play with it and watch our very small backyard fill up with cow droppings in a matter of just a few days.

It would be glorious.

However, much like my yearly requests for world peace, my own spaceship, and an extra hour to the day, I realize that my requests for my own cow will go unheeded. And that's okay, I guess. After all, despite all appearances to the contrary, I AM mature enough to realize that having a cow as a pet, especially in one of the most densely packed neighborhood in the city, would not be a good thing. It wouldn't be fair to our landlords, it wouldn't be fair to our neighbors, and, I guess, it wouldn't be fair to the cow.

But a boy can dream, right?

Now you know one of the things I'm doing this weekend. Hope your weekend is just as whimsical!

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 11/15

I suppose that's one way to get my attention!

I received a piece of mail yesterday, a piece of mail that made my coworkers either laugh out loud or walk around shaking their heads in disbelief. I know who sent it; I know that the way it was addressed means nothing except as a joke (and way of buttering me up to help them out with something I'm always glad to help with), but still, it was neat.

Who wouldn't want a piece of mail addressed to them this way?

I know; you're probably laughing along with my co-workers right now. I am, too. But still...who wouldn't want their day made by having someone address them this way? Seriously—even if you're in the worst mood of all time, or are just staring at your office wall dreading the next eight hours of your life, a piece of mail like that will make your day.

The fact that it arrived yesterday, one of the rare recent sunny days in Marquette, made it even better.

I would probably be the last person on Earth to attach the word “Great” to my name. After all, I have to life with myself each and every day, and I know just how lacking in greatness I can be. Mediocre? Sure? Slightly below or on the rare occasion approaching average? No problem. But I know I'll never, ever have a shot at greatness. I'm okay with that. After all, I try to live a life grounded in reality, and I know what I know, especially about myself. That's why it's nice that someone wrote that on an envelope, even as a joke.

Think of it as a participation trophy for life.

So thanks, Liz, for the mail. I appreciate the sentiment, and like my coworkers got a laugh out of it. And I'd be happy to help you out no matter how you addressed the envelope.

Even if it was addressed to “The Mediocre Jim Koski”.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 11/14

Two totally unrelated things today, the first being that my favorite one-year old in the world becomes my favorite two-year old in the world!

It's my nephew Abel James' 2^nd birthday today. Abel is a friendly, high-energy kid who has a smile and a laugh for almost every single person on the planet. In fact, I think Abel DOES have a smile for every single person on the planet save one, a person who he'll see, then break into a loud sob, tears streaming down his face.

And you can guess who that one person is, right?

I don't know why Abel breaks into tears every time he sees me. After all, I'm his only biological uncle, and he's partially named after me, so on the surface he should like me, right? And it's weird—every single other little kid on the planet seems to like me. I can smile at one and get a smile back. I can just move my eyebrows and get a laugh in return.

But my nephew? Not so much.

My family thinks it's funny, and I have to admit that if I was a little less secure it might bother me. But it doesn't, because I know that kids are strange that way. Abel loves my sister, my nieces, and Loraine, and will give them hugs on command. For some reason, though, he's not that into me. And that's okay. I think the problem is that my brother (Abel's dad) and I look a lot alike, although I have hair and Marc doesn't. (I also know how to pronounce Ishpeming without an “R”, but that's a story for another day). Abel must look at me and think he sees his dad, then realizes a second later that it's not, which causes a little freak-out. And that's understandable. He's two years old, and two-year olds don't often understand what's happening around them. So I have no problem with that.

However, should he turn 5 or 6 and STILL cry every time he sees me; well, then we'll need to sit down and have a talk. But for now, he's allowed to do what he wants. And I hope today that he wants to have a great birthday.

Happy second, Abel!

*****

Secondly, happy Deer Season Eve! That’s a real holiday, right?

For the 20^th time (20 times???????) I present an epic “poem” (using the word rather loosely) to commemorate the U.P. national holiday. Even though I've never personally celebrated the holiday, I know a lot of people do. So if you are, I hope it's both a successful and safe day.

And remember—if you stay hydrated your hangover won't be as bad as it could be.  I'm just saying...

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

“’Twas the Night Before Deer Camp”,

by Jimmy Koski, grade 3.

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE DEER SEASON

AND ALL THROUGH THE CAMP

HUNTERS WERE UNLOADED BEER CRATES

AND LIGHTING UP LAMPS

THE RIFLES THEY HUNG

IN THE PICKUP WITH CARE

IN HOPES THAT A 10-POINTER

SOON WOULD BE THERE

I IN MY ORANGE

MY BUDDY IN GREEN

SAT DOWN TO A CRIBBAGE GAME

THE BIGGEST EVER SEEN

WE PLAYED THROUGH THE NIGHT

AND EMPTIED THOSE CRATES

BUT MORNING SOON CAME

WE DIDN’T WANT TO BE LATE

WE SET OUT AT SUNRISE

AT DAWN’S EARLY LIGHT

PUT DOWN A BIG BAIT PILE

IN HOPES THAT BAMBI WOULD BITE

WE SAT AND WE WAITED

AND WAITED SOME MORE

I KEPT MY EYES OPEN

MY BUDDY STARTED TO SNORE

WHEN TO MY SURPRISE

STANDING RIGHT BY A TREE

WAS A BIG 12-POINT BUCK

MY PANTS I DID...WELL, NEVER MIND ABOUT THAT

I BROUGHT UP MY RIFLE

I LINED UP THE DEER

THEN MY BUDDY WOKE UP AND YELLED

“HEY--WHERE’S THE BEER?”

THE BUCK RAN AWAY

I LOWERED MY GUN

MY BUDDY JUST LAUGHED

SAID “LET’S HAVE SOME FUN”

WE WENT BACK TO DEER CAMP

AND HAD US A BALL

SO LET ME SAY THIS--

GOOD LUCK DEER HUNTING TO ALL...

Tuesday, 11/13

Yesterday, chocolate. Today, pizza!

At the end of yesterday’s mind-blowing facts about chocolate I mentioned that if science could find a way to make pizza as healthy as dark chocolate, then my diet would be pretty much set for the rest of my life. Well, on the heels of that came a list I found about the ten top pizza toppings in the U.S. They are?

1. Pepperoni
2. Mushrooms
3. Onions
4. Sausage
5. Bacon
6. Extra cheese
7. Black olives
8. Green peppers
9. Pineapple
10. Spinach

And, as always, I have to chuckle at how easy it is for me to be an oddball. You see, out of the ten most popular pizza toppings in the U.S., I usually only have one of them, and that’s the topping at number 10.

Go figure, right?

In fact, my favorite pizza of all time is one that Aubrees in Marquette doesn’t actually make any more, and that was a spinach and artichoke heart pizza, slathered with a white sauce on a whole wheat crust. Yeah, I know most people probably don’t actually consider that a “pizza”--perhaps why they don’t sell it any more--but given a choice between eating pizza with pepperoni or mushrooms or sausage or anything else on that list, I’d take Aubrees’ spinach and artichoke heart pizza.

Assuming, of course, they ever bring it back. Until then, I’ll have to make do with their Tuscan Sun pizza, which still has a little spinach and a few artichoke hearts on it, along with sun dried tomatoes and a red sauce, as opposed to the white sauce on my former favorite.

I know. That’s a major first world complaint, if I’ve ever heard one, so I’ll stop talking about that particular topic. But I will admit I was kind of surprised by one topping that didn’t make the top ten.

Where’s ham?

If I have to eat a “normal” pizza, I’ll go for one with ham on it. Every pizza place offers a variety of ham pizzas, and ham’s favorite pizza cohort, pineapple, is on the top ten list, but where’s ham itself? You can’t tell me that more people like spinach on a pizza than they do ham. Someone like me, I can see. But the rest of the country, the “normal” contingent? They prefer spinach over ham?

Maybe I’ve become a trendsetter and I didn’t even realize it!

Anyway, next time you sit down or call someone and order a pizza, consider your toppings. Will you go mainstream, like pepperoni? Will you think outside the box, and add artichoke hearts? Or will you take pity on the forgotten, and throw some ham on there?

Consider that your (ahem) food for thought today!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 11/12

See? I really DO know what I’m doing by eating chocolate!

I came across an old article on the Huffington Post over the weekend regarding chocolate and all the health benefits related to it. Now, I knew that moderate consumption of one of my favorite foods was good for your health, but when I saw the list, even I was astounded.

For instance, eating chocolate can, according to the article:

--Make you think better

--Control your appetite

--Lower your blood pressure

--Relieve anxiety

--Lower your bad cholesterol

--Kick up your metabolism

--Give you smoother skin

--Help you lose weight, and

--Lower your risk of a heart attack.

And here you wonder WHY I eat chocolate so much??

8-)

Chocolate actually does all that; the science behind it is proven. There are two very strong caveats to go along with this, though. You actually have to consume your chocolate in moderation; eating more than two or three ounces a day (the size of an average bar) just adds calories to your diet without adding any extra benefits. And the chocolate you eat MUST be dark chocolate, with at least 70% cocoa content. Milk chocolate doesn’t have enough flavanoids in it to help your body, and all the extra sugar in it just makes you gain weight.

Good thing I really like dark chocolate, huh?

I knew eating dark chocolate was good for you; I guess I didn’t realize ALL the benefits that came from eating moderate amounts of it, especially because some of those benefits are so counter-intuitive. I mean, eat chocolate to lose weight or lower your cholesterol? It doesn’t really make sense, but the science is there, as is the answer the next time someone asks how I can stay so skinny when my love of chocolate is so well known.

I just eat the right kind of chocolate, and I don’t eat too much of it. Who knew, right?

Now, if scientists could only prove that eating pizza, ice cream, and cookies from Cal’s Party Store had the same health benefits as eating dark chocolate. If that were the case, I think my diet would be set for life.

Hopefully, that discovery is just around the corner!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 11/9

Sunday is a milestone day if you're a history geek, like Europe, or just want to honor people who gave their lives for a just cause.

Sunday is Veterans Day here in the US, but in Europe it's a little more. Sunday morning will mark the 100^th anniversary of the end of World War I, “The Great War” and “The War to End All Wars”, names given by people who obviously didn't realize that history DOES repeat itself, and often in more gruesome forms. I think the end of the war is a bigger deal over there than it is here, but it really shouldn't be. Hundreds of thousands of Americans died in the conflict, and memories of them are now few and far between.

As an example of how those memories can slowly disappear, I’d like to introduce you to a young man from Marquette named Morgan Mowick--

A couple of years ago Loraine and I walked through Park Cemetery and came across Morgan’s grave. It simply says that he died on March 27^th, 1918 while serving with the 174^th Aero Squadron of the U.S. Allied Expeditionary Force during World War I. That’s it. So I decided to see if I could find out anything about him. And that’s when I realized that memories can recede over time.

Thanks to Loraine, I know how to look up things on soldiers who died while in service. I know where to look in newspapers, I know which websites have the best information. It’s just one of the many benefits to being married to a very remarkable woman. But when I looked into those newspapers and searched those websites, I realized that information from a war, even a World War, from 100 years ago is sketchy at best.

All I could find out about Morgan is that he grew up at 421 East Hewitt Avenue in Marquette, was a member of what’s now the First United Methodist Church, and that his father, Mons Mowick,was a Norwegian immigrant who had developed a reputation as one of Marquette's best house painters. Like many men who died during World War I Morgan didn't die in combat; instead, he contracted pneumonia while on the way over to Europe, was left at a hospital when his ship docked, and died soon afterward. His body was then sent back to Marquette for burial, where he still lies next to his parents.

That’s all I could find out. All I found were two newspaper articles from just after he died, one with a letter sent to his father by his commander right after his death, and the other a reprint of a sermon given by his church’s minister for several members of the church who had died in the conflict. Those two articles seem to represent the entire legacy of a young man who left his home to fight for a better world and died while doing it.

I’d like to think that people like Morgan deserve better.

So if you happen to have a veteran in your life, be it a dad or a mom, or a brother or sister, or a grandfather, or an aunt or uncle, or even a favorite neighbor, do two things today. First, thank them for their service. These people have put themselves in harms way over and over again, often in hostile areas, to make sure that you stay safe. And if you have the chance, make sure that their stories are recorded and saved somewhere. Make sure that in a hundred years, if someone wants to know what they did and why they did, that the information is available.

Make sure time treats them better than it treated someone like Morgan Mowick.

On that note, have yourself a great weekend. Stay warm, too.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 11/8

The stupid song's almost 30 years old. I didn't like it when it was first out. So why do I keep listening to it over and over again now?

Sigh...

As some of you may know, I have a weak, weak brain. A song can lodge itself in my head for days at a time, or I can wake up in the middle of the night with a quirky 80s new wave hit running on repeat, and then spend the rest of the night staring at the ceiling while it blasts my brain at full volume. It's not a skill of which I'm proud, but it's one of the few that I do have.

Such is the case now. A couple of weeks ago on a “Throwback Thursday” we played a song from a one album wonder of the 1990s. I had actually kind of forgotten about the song for the past few decades, but when I heard it two thoughts popped into my head. The first? “I didn't like this song that much when it was out”.

The second? “The song doesn't totally suck. Why didn't I like it back then?”.

And then, of course, I made the mistake I often make. I listened to the song once or twice. And then five or six times. Before I knew it, iTunes was telling me I'd listened to it almost 20 times in a two day span. That's when I knew I was in trouble.

The (stupid) song that is now stuck in my brain? This one--

Everybody knows about C&C Music Factory's “Everybody Dance Now”, but they tend to forget about the follow-up to it, “Here We Go”, the song that is currently stuck in my brain. After listening to it almost 20 times over two days I can say that it's a much better song than their big hit. It's a little more rock in nature, and it samples Chic's “Le Freak”, which is never a bad thing. But it's not a great song. It's not a classic piece of work. It's certainly not a song that should lodge itself into my brain.

And yet, it has.

Hopefully, by writing this, I may have exorcised it from my brain. Realistically, by writing this, it's probably lodged itself even deeper into my brain. But in all honesty it was probably gonna stay there for a while, so it's not that big of a deal.

Check it out, if you dare. I'm hopeful that your brain is stronger than mine, and that you won't be listening to it 20 times over a two day period. However, if you do, let me apologize in advance.

It would be entirely my fault.

(jim@wmqt.com), weak of mind.

Wednesday, 11/7

They're on their way there. See? It isn't that hard.

I know I've probably railed about the misuse of the different forms of “there” in the past, so forgive me if I'm babbling babbles that I've already babbled. But there was a meme going around on Facebook this morning in which someone posted that people only join an organization because “there to stupid to do anything else”.

Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have the very latest definition of the word “irony” right there.

I'm starting to wonder if this whole “there/their/they're” problem is the latest version of the “chicken & the egg” quandary. Are people just grammatically stupid overall, and we notice it more these days because they post everything they write on the internet? Or has technology—the internet and spell-check—made people stupider, so much so that they don't actually know which “their” to use here and there?

Some days, I just don't know.

Now, I make a lot of grammatical & spelling errors when I write, as those of you who read this are no doubt aware. I rely too much on spell-check, and each and every one of these could probably use an extra round of proofreading, the time for which is, unfortunately, limited. So I'm not claiming to live in a glass house. I'm not claiming to be a perfect writer myself. But if I were to post something accusing someone else of being stupid?

I'd make sure I wasn't an idiot myself. But then, that's just me.

I'll shut up about this now, if for no other reason than I have to go hang out with people who, I'm guessing, actually DO know which “there” to use, if only because they're a couple of teams of some of the brightest young people on the planet, who will be taking part in another action packed edition of “High School Bowl”. It starts shooting in about an hour, in fact, assuming the weather allows them to make it there.

Just not their. Or they're.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 11/6

Assuming you're one of the people who reads these on a daily basis (and not one of the many binge-readers we have each weekend), may I ask you a question--

Have you voted yet? You ARE planning on voting today, right?

I'm actually writing this really early this morning, much earlier than a normal person would even think about waking up (7 am...and don't give me grief about 7 am being early. It is.). I'm doing so so I can hop a ride with my dear wife down to the YMCA in Marquette, where we're not planning on hanging out with all the boys but are instead planning on standing in whatever line there is and casting our ballot for this election.

However, I would not be surprised, in any way, if the song “YMCA” sticks in my head the rest of the day.

I always implore people to make sure they get out and cast their vote. Democracy only works if people get out and make their opinions known, and the more people who vote, the batter. It's simple science—if you have a bigger sample size, you get more accurate results. If only one type of person votes, we get a government by and for that one type. To get a country in which we can all live, we need everyone to vote. Young people, don't let old people decide what your future holds. Women, don't let men elect representatives who tell you what you can or can not do. And vice versa.

Get out and make sure that YOUR voice and YOUR views are heard. Like millions of people have said for decades, if you don't vote you can't complain. Don't like the way things are going? Make your voice heard. Think things are on the right track? Make your voice heard.

Remember—you can't spell “apathetic” without the word “pathetic”. So get off your keister today and vote.

With that, I hafta hop in the car and go do so myself. Make sure that you're like the rest of the cool kids and do so as well!

(jim@wmqt.com)

****

(10:08 am--an update:

Monday, 11/5

Why do I torture myself that way on the weekends?

I know weekends are supposed to be for rest & relaxation. I know that weekends are supposed to be the time to check out for a few days and take a mental vacation. I know that. I also know that those 48 (or whatever) hours are supposed to be sacred, and supposed to be used for brain dead activities.. I know that.

Then why have I been playing with this book the past few weekends?

Yes, that's what it looks like. It's a puzzle book. With puzzles in French. That's what any normal person would do to relax on the weekend, right?

Please say “right”.

I saw the book in one of those discount book catalogs from which Loraine and I have built the piles of books on our kitchen floor. I figured it would be fun, and it might help me keep my rusty French skills a little less rusty. The first few puzzles in it were, well, fun. They were easy, and I was actually impressed by the fact that I was able to finish them. But then I got to what the book describes as the “moderatee” section, and that's when the fun ended. I apparently ran into the limits of my French, and spent the next few hours alternating between thumbing through my massive French dictionary for a little help and uttering little yelps of pain that caused Loraine to look at me with that look I get when I'm doing something a normal person would perceive as stupid.

That's a good way to spend part of a weekend, right?

The thing is that despite the pain I actually did have a little fun torturing myself. Heck, I might even have learned a new French word or two. Whether or not that's what a sane person should (or would) do with a couple of their precious weekend hours is debatable; I just know that's how I spent a few of my precious weekend hours, for better or for worse.

And yes, I know I need help. What's your point?

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 11/2

And happy birthday to my favorite brother in the world!

Okay, technically, he's my only brother, so that makes him the favorite by default. But that's not the point. Marc, the baby of the family, turns another year older today. And much like other babies of families, he's (in a good way) in a class all his own. As an example, I give you the following blog, written on his birthday nine years ago, right after he did a very Marc-like thing.

So Happy Birthday, Marc. I hope you have a great day, and that Tiffanie & the dudes make it even better!

(jim@wmqt.com), off to shoot another episode of “High School Bowl”, the 41^st season premiere of which is tomorrow (hint hint)!

*****

(as originally posted 11/2/09):

I should’ve known from the gleam in his eyes that something was up.

Friday, when I was walking up & down Third Street in Marquette for Halloweekend (a smashing success, by the way) I saw a familiar truck parked in front of me while I was doing one of my cut-ins. In the truck sat my brother, with one of those grins (you know, the human waste-eating kind) on his face.

“Just remember that I’m your little brother’, said he. “Just remember that you love me”. And with that, he drove off.

Believe it or not, I was pretty sure what he was referring to when he said that, and my suspicions were confirmed when I walked home and saw this—

That’s right; that’s my car, wrapped up in two rolls of plastic wrap, a gift from not only my brother, but my sister and two of my nieces as well.

A Koski family Halloween tradition had been reborn.

Back when he was just a punk and I was in college, I would always come home for Halloween weekend. I would then dress up as a ghoul and scare kids who came by for trick or treating (something I actually continued doing until my parents moved into their condo a few years ago), often assisted by my brother. And for several years during that span, I would then awake the next morning to find my car “mysteriously” covered in toilet paper.

You’d never guess who did that.

Anyway, when we were at my niece Mallory’s birthday lunch a couple of weeks ago, my brother brought up the fact that it’s been awhile since my car was “mysteriously” covered in anything for Halloween. So when I saw that gleam in his eye Friday, I had a vague idea of what caused that gleam; this time around, though, he was aided and abetted by three other people.

I guess he’s getting old and can’t do it himself any more!

Speaking of which, I KNOW he’s getting old, because today’s birthday. So Happy Birthday, Marc. Glad you guys had a good time plotting the wrapping of Jim’s car, 2009. And you know what you’re getting for your birthday?

A roll of plastic wrap. Because I have a sneaking suspicion you may be out of whatever rolls you had before. . .

Thursday, 11/1

I can't believe it's that time of the year again. I can't believe November has rolled around. I can't believe the weeks are zooming by. And because of that, I can't believe I have to start thinking about Christmas cookies.

It seems to me like I was just passing out all of the cookies I made last holiday season. Of course, it also seems to me like I was just graduating from college, but seeing as how that was last century (whimper), it gives you a pretty good idea of how I handle the passing of time. And since I've been so busy recently, and have had so many things I'm trying to keep up with, I figure I should probably get my butt in gear regarding this year's batch of cookies.

After all, I don't want to be passing them out next February or next March. I have a feeling they wouldn't be appreciated quite the same as they would be in December.

As you may recall, Christmas cookies are the big holiday tradition in the small Koski apartment. I always make five or six kinds, which we then pass out to family, friends, co-workers, and, in a tradition that's been going for over a decade now, to several old neighbors. Seeing as how I end up making four or five hundred cookies in total, and seeing as how I know there's no way Loraine and I want to eat them all ourselves, they get handed out for the holidays.

We might as well spread the caloric catastrophe out amongst as many people as possible, right?

There are several major steps to the whole production, the first of which is deciding what the “new” cookie will be. Like most things that have to do with the holidays, tradition abounds in my making of Christmas cookies. There are several kinds I have to make year in and year out—the Grandma cookie, the cherry one with the dark chocolate stuck on top, & the Nutella cookie (which this year may be amped up with a Nutella filling inside because, of course, you can never have too much Nutella in a cookie). Now, I know those aren't the actual names of the cookies; that's just how they're referred to on the assembly line.

Along with those cookies, I always make a cookie I've not made before. Last year, it was a lemon-rosemary shortbread cookie that quickly became one of my favorites of all time, and may have made the jump up to “make this every year” status. So picking the “new” cookie is always a serious task, and one that demands some thought. After all, not only does it have to be something I've never made before, but it also has to balance out the rest of the cookies. Am I making too many with chocolate? Then maybe the “new” cookie should be something that's a little spicy. Do I have too many cookies that are green and/or red? Then maybe I should make a white cookie, or a yellow cookie, or even, I dunno, a black cookie. These are all things that a normal person, when deciding which cookies to make for the holidays, wouldn't even think about. But me?

Well, who ever said I was normal, right?

So I guess I should make that first step and decide—quite soon—what this year's “new” cookie should be. Then I can make up a shopping list, and hope I find some time to throw them all together in time for delivery BY Christmas. Otherwise, we'll have to call them New Year's Cookies. Or Valentine's Day Cookies. Or St. Patrick’s Day Cookies. Or even Arbor Day Cookies.

Wish me luck!

(jim@wmqt.com)