Thursday, 12/31

 Faretheewell, 2020. Don't let the door hit you in the you-know-what on the way out.

You know, I really have no idea how to address the year that's finishing up. Nothing about it has been normal, and it seems like nothing about it will be worth remembering. I have a feeling that most people just want it to be over, even though the lingering effects of it will be felt through at least the first half of 2021.

2020's the gift that keeps on giving.

I don't think that any of us will know what to think of this year until some time has passed, and we've gained the ability to get a little perspective on it. I mean, I'm sure that people who lived through World War II had no good thoughts about it while it was going on, yet I've spoken with those people fifty or seventy years later, and they've actually recalled those years with some fondness.

Whether or not that happens with those of us who've lived through this year of insanity is still up for question.

So instead of looking back on or trying to put some over-riding arc on the year that has but a few hours left, just let me say this—I welcome 2021. I have no idea what the world will be like 365 days from now, but I'm guessing—I'm hoping—that it can't be any worse. All I'm hoping for is for things to start to turn the corner. For calmness to replace the chaos. For caring and compassion to replace hard-hearted cruelty. And for the proverbial light to be at the end of the tunnel, even if the tunnel has a long way yet to go.

That's not asking too much, is it?

Have a great New Year, in whatever form that takes this year. See you in 2021!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 12/30

 Okay, I think Laura can stop thinking I'm weird now.

Several times over the years my favorite radio meteorologist and I have been discussing my outdoor recreation habits, and she has thought them a little strange. Well, actually, she finds one more painful than strange, and can't quite understand why I keep doing it. I've tried to explain to her that by doing it during the summer I'm actually getting ready to do something related in the winter, but she still thinks it's either masochistic or weird.

But now I can say that it has paid off.

The activity Laura thinks is so masochistic and/or weird is how I will run on the beach during the summer. For some reason, she seems to think it's painful, but I would have to respectfully disagree with her on that. After all, when it's warm out, why WOULDN'T I run on the beach a little? I mean, c'mon—it's the beach. It's the place where I would live year-round if I could. So why wouldn't I run on it?

Actually, I have an idea why she thinks it's a bit masochistic. Even I will admit that it's hard running on a beach. It's not like running on a smooth surface; you definitely have to work harder, and you definitely end up hurting a lot more than you would during a “normal” run. But that's a good thing for two reasons. One, by having to work that much harder, you torch a LOT more calories than you would during a “normal” run. And isn't that why most people run in the first place? And since running on sand is a whole lot different than running on pavement, you develop different muscles. That's a good thing, too.

The second reason is something that a lot of people wouldn't even think of, but at least for me, it may be more important than the calories you burn while running on the beach. You see, once the snow falls and you go out running, you often find yourself trudging through a quagmire of snow, sometimes mushy, and as well as all the sand thrown down by road crews. You may think I'm weird for running on a beach during summer, but you know what?

It gets me in shape for running on city streets during the winter. It got me in shape for running earlier this morning, for sure, with four inches of new snow mixed with copious amounts of sand on the streets.

Yes, I'm actually a rather serious about this. If you've ever tried to run down a city street in December or January—heck, if you're ever tried to even walk down a city street in December or January—you know that it can be a lot like walking on a beach, or at least walking on a beach minus the sun and the heat and the water and all the things that make walking on a beach so much fun. The composition of the crap on a Marquette city street in the middle of winter is very similar to what you find on a beach. You find sand mixed with water on a beach, right? Well, what do you find on a city street in the middle of winter? You find water mixed with sand. Maybe it's not the exact same proportions, and it may be 60 or 70 degrees cooler, but it's pretty much the same stuff you run on on a beach.

I rest my case.

So, Laura, the next time you think me weird or masochistic for running on a beach, remember two things. Remember that I'm running on one of the most beautiful cold water beaches on the planet. And also remember that the four or five months I run on a beach is getting me ready for the seven or eight months that I may have to run on snowy Marquette city streets. You see, there IS a method to my madness!

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 12/29

 Now that it looks like we might actually be getting another stimulus payment, here's something to think about.

First of all, do not think about this at all if you need the $600 (or $2,000, or whatever it ends up being). If you need it for food or rent or any other kind of payment, use it for that. Skip this blog and come back tomorrow. But if you're one of the lucky ones who've been working this whole year and don't need the $600 to survive, think about doing what I'm going to do.

Spend the whole thing locally.

I did this back in May when the original $1,200 came. I've been working through this whole wonderful pandemic, so I didn't need the money to survive. I took the fact that it was a “stimulus payment” to use it for its intended purpose—to stimulate the economy. I didn't stick it in the bank, where it doesn't do much good for anyone else. And I certainly didn't use it to go on an Amazon shopping spree, because lord knows Jeff Bezos doesn't need another 600 bucks. I took all $1,200 and spend it in locally owned stores.

And it felt really good.

I don't remember exactly what the number is, but if you spend a buck in a locally owned store that dollar gets used again (I think) six times, because the owner pays an employee with some of it, who then spends it in another store, and that store owner uses it to pay a local supplier, and so on. If you stick it in a bank, the money just sits there. If you use it on Amazon, Jeff Bezos' net worth goes from 100 billion to 101 billion, but it doesn't do anything for your neighbors.

That's why you should spend it locally.

For me, at least, it really doesn't matter if you need it. Spending it is the important thing. Sure, back in the spring I bought a few things I needed, like running shoes and a new backpack, but I also picked up a stuffed cow pillow (which I like), a couple bars of basil vanilla soap (which I really like), and more new kinds of teas than I've ever bought before (several of which I really, really like). And I tried every single locally-owned restaurant that I could think of.

This time around, those restaurants will actually be my focus. I can't think of any kind of business that's been hit as hard by the pandemic as the food service industry, so on the stimulus list I've been putting together—and yes, I AM putting a list together—locally owned restaurants are right on top. In fact, I'm thinking the vast majority of the $600 will be going to those places, either through take out or by paying them a visit in person when they're allowed to be open again.

After all, I'd like for them to be around so I can visit them again with abandon when all this crap is over.

So that's my plan for the $600 dollars we'll be getting, plus any other amount that's coming in the immediate future. If you've been one of the fortunate ones and don't need the payment to survive, think of all the people you could help with it.

And then get out there and spend, spend, spend.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 12/28

 MONDAY, 12/28:

It half worked. And for a year like 2020, that's all we can ask.

First of all, hope you had a great holiday weekend, either with your loved ones in person, or—like me—virtually. This was never going to be a holiday like previous ones, so hope you were able to roll with whatever punches were thrown your way.

As we were last discussing, one of the punches that we were throwing was a wholesale change in how we celebrated Christmas. One of those changes was me trying to make Greek food for Christmas dinner, and I'm glad to report that, kind of, sort of, it turned out.

Kind of. Judge for yourself--

That's a picture of the Patitsio I made, and I'm happy to report that, foremost, no one died. My attempt at making didn't end up looking like the kind we usually get at the Greek Orthodox Church bake sale every year, but I'm happy to say that it did taste like it.

So I guess one out of two ain't bad.

The attempt, though, did give me respect for all of those people who actually DO know how to make Greek food. There was a LOT of preparation that went into it, including making a bechamel sauce, and I'd say that it ended up taking over two hours to prepare and bake.

And I think that's where my problem was.

Looking back on it, I probably could have—should have--spent another half an hour stacking the layers a little more precisely, so that it more closely resembled the efforts of people who've done it a few hundred times. I just kind of put them together without much thought, not arranging the noodles in a specific order, or making sure the cheese layers were uniform, much like one does with a typical lasagna.

But now I know that Patitsio is anything BUT a typical lasgna. So next time I put one together (and there will be a next time) I hope it tastes just as good as the one I made at Christmas.

And I hope that it looks just as good as the ones we get each and every year at the bake sale.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 12/23

 Yes...Greek food for Christmas. You have a problem with that?

8-)

As I mentioned yesterday one of the things Loraine and I will be trying during our Covid Christmas is making Greek food. Why, you ask? Well, I answer, 2020 has deprived us of a lot of holiday traditions, among them one of our favorites—the annual bake sale at the Greek orthodox Church in Marquette. We always look forward to trying all kinds of authentic Greek food made by church members. Unfortunately, like almost everything good this year, the bake sale was cancelled.

And that's why I'll try making my own Christmas day.

The attempt will be Pastitsio, a lasagna-type dish that uses lots of noodles, cinnamon, and a bechamel sauce as a topping. It's one of those dishes that we get at the bake sale every year, and since it doesn't involve 18 layers of puff pastry or a lot of ground walnuts we figured it would be a good first attempt at making our own Greek food.

We'll see how it turns out.

We were also thinking of adding Kaiserschmarnn to it, but figured that 1). do you really wanna mix German & Greek food?, and B). I'd be spending enough time in the kitchen as it is Christmas Day, so we'll save that for New Year's Day instead. And seeing as how I actually don't suck (if I must say so myself) at whipping up a batch of that treat, that should be easy.

As opposed to, say, a Greek dish with four different layers that I've never made before.

If it turns out, it'll be a Christmas miracle. If it doesn't; well, nothing else in 2020 has, so why should this be any different, right?

You'll know the answer to that question on Monday!

*****

Speaking of which, this will be the last entry before then. I hope you & yours have a great holiday, in whatever form it takes. Remember to leave a bottle of hand sanitizer for Santa to use!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 12/22

It won't be the same. But it also won't be as bad as it could've been.

2020 has wrecked havoc on everyone's holiday plans. In my particular case, my parents are in Florida, and my siblings and I have seen our Christmas reduced to exchanging gifts and socially-distanced greetings on a city sidewalk. It'll be the first time that all or most of us won't be together, and it sucks.

In fact, it sucks so much that I almost felt sorry for myself for a bit.

However, like has happened a lot in 2020, it also made me think. Sure, my usual holidays plans have been rendered askew, but you know what? That's happening to everyone. And among that group of “everyone” is a large contingent of people who, because it's 2020, are going to have to spend the holiday alone. They might be stuck in a strange city, unable to get home, or they may be isolated in a facility where they can't have guests. Compared to that, I have nothing to complain about. I'm in a place I love, and while I don't get to spend the holiday with a lot of people I do get to spend it with the most important person in my life—Loraine.

And that's why I can't feel sorry for myself.

Think of all the people who are really suffering this holiday season, or who won't be able to do a single thing they like doing. Compared to that, I have absolutely nothing to complain about. I get to hug the person I love. I get to look at Christmas lights with the person I love. I get to experiment making Greek food for Christmas with the person I love.

When you think of it that way, I'm really quite the lucky guy.

So while all kind of holiday traditions are falling by the wayside this year, we'll deal with it. 2020 has been throwing us fastballs all year; maybe it's time we actually hit one back. I get to spend Christmas with Loraine. I have nothing to feel sorry about . And who knows—we might even get a new tradition or two out of it.

If you look at it that way, it really CAN be the most wonderful time of the year.

*****

By the way, I think I have the answer as to what color (white, brown, or green) our Christmas will be--

I took that picture about an hour and a half after writing yesterday's blog. I guess Mother Nature answered the question I posed for us!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 12/21

White?  Green?  Brown?  Any combination thereof?

Although we're not sure at the moment, the possibility exists that those of us living in the city of Marquette could be having our fourth or fifth snow-free Christmas in the past dozen years later this week. It all depends upon what a few weather systems do, including one moving through today, and it led to me having a discussion with a listener on the air Friday. If we do indeed have a snow-free or a snow-lacking Christmas again this year, is it better to refer to it as a “Green Christmas” or a “Brown Christmas”? “Brown Christmas” certainly is a more accurate term, because that’s certainly what you see the most of these days. But “Green Christmas” is a little, well, prettier. A little more gentle. A little more Christmas-like.

And it’s not like it’s totally inaccurate. I can look out the big studio window at work and see nothing but green, thanks to the cedar trees and snow-free courtyard in front of the First Presbyterian Church across the street. And when I walk to work every morning, I see the green (well, partial green) on front lawns ranging from my next-door neighbor to that of the Peter White Public Library. So while “Brown Christmas” is certainly more accurate this time of the year, “Green Christmas” can’t be dismissed out of hand.

So what do YOU think? Green or brown? Seeing as how, at least in Marquette, those might be the majority of our choices this year, I think we should decide this, and decide this quite soon. Unless, of course, Mother Nature renders this whole discussion moot. It IS 2020, after all.

We'll see...

****

Also, for some people, I know today’s an important day in one respect--it’s the shortest day of the year. Just a few hours before I typed this the winter solstice occurred and our lovely planet has started to (slowly) tilt the northern hemisphere back toward the sun. That means that every day from now through June we get a few more minutes of daylight.

That means the days start getting longer starting today. So it’s all uphill from here. Or downhill from here, I guess, depending upon your point of view and whether or not you think “up” or “down” is the good way to go. Regardless of the semantics, we start getting more daylight now. Thanks to our ever-present cloud cover, we may not notice it right away, but our days WILL be getting longer.

That means winter will be over before we know it. Of course, winter has to actually start this year for it to be over before we know it, but if it ever does get an actual foothold on the area, we’ll be ready.

Longer days, here we come!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 12/18

 It's the perfect song for a 2020 Christmas.

In a year when most people have had their lives torn asunder, in a year when we can't do the things we normally do, in a year when most families won't be able to get together to celebrate the holidays, I present to you what might be the most fitting holiday song in the history of holiday songs.

And I'm not being sarcastic or hyperbolic about that.

I've been sent quite a few new Christmas songs that address a 2020 Christmas; sadly, most of them are a bit of bummer to listen to. But not Robbie Williams' “Can't Stop Christmas”. Oh, the lyrics talk about everything that we can't or won't do this year, but it's wrapped up in such an infectious beat that you can't help but feel a little—just a little—better about all the crap we're going through.

Such is the power of music.

The good thing is the song won't become a holiday classic, because of its lyrics. The bad thing is the song won't become a holiday classic, because of its lyrics. And that's kind of a shame. A melody that infectious really deserves to be around for more than a year, especially a year like this.

But then maybe that's what's so good about it. In a year with depressing news and depressing new Christmas songs, maybe a lightweight, disposable three minute piece of magic is just want Santa ordered.

Haven't heard it yet? See if you agree with me--

And while you're at it, have a great weekend before Christmas, too!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 12/17

 I know I'm a bad boy for doing it. But it wouldn't surprise me if some of you do it as well.

I spent part of the evening last night making the dough for some of the very limited number (only two kinds) of cookies I'll be baking for the holidays. I threw it all the finished dough in the fridge, and I'll bake 'em this weekend. During a normal I'd be making the six or seven types of dough last week or the week before, freezing them, and then baking them all before Christmas. I did it that way for many years, because I found that spending two or three hours making the dough in advance really does make the VERY long day(s) of baking I usually have just a bit shorter. So, in a normal year, that's usually a good idea.

Of course, in case you haven't noticed, this is anything BUT a normal year.

Making a limited amount cookies, though, is not why I was a bad boy. When making the dough I, of course, wanna make sure it's okay. I wanna make sure it's turning out the way I want it to turn out, and I wanna make sure that there's nothing untoward about it. After all, I'm giving most (if not all) of these cookies away, and like any good baker I need to make sure they're gonna be edible. So when the dough's done, I grab a spoonful and taste it, to make sure that it's good to go.

That's right. Despite all the warnings, despite all the advice of experts, I eat raw cookie dough. Oh, the horror!!!

8-)

Yes, I know you're not supposed to eat raw cookie dough, especially raw cookie dough that has raw eggs mixed into it. I know that you can theoretically get all kinds of food-borne illnesses from consuming even one microgram of raw cookie dough. Heck, even the bag of flour I was using last night told me not to eat the flour raw, whether it was in cookie dough or not. But apparently I like being a rebel. Apparently I like living on the edge. And that was quite apparent last night when I made two kinds of cookie dough and ate two bites of the raw stuff.

And yet, I'm still alive.

Now, I know that it's probably a bad thing to do. I'm aware of what kind of organisms can lurk in uncooked foods. And I wouldn't eat a piece of raw chicken or even, like Sylvester Stallone in “Rocky”, quaff an entire raw egg. But I've been eating small samples of raw cookie dough since I started baking cookies as a kid. And not once in those 40+ years have I gotten sick from it. Sure, the possibility of barfing all over the kitchen exists, but the amount of “dangerous” material in a tiny bite of raw cookie dough is probably so small that I don't have to worry. Either that, or I can apparently ingest all kinds of toxic material and not be affected by it.

But I understand why experts (and even flour bags) warn you NOT to eat raw cookie dough. I'm sure some fool out there once made cookie dough using 14 eggs and four-year old flour, ate it all in one sitting, blew their stomach out, and sued the food manufacturers for not telling them not to do it. After all, that's the American way. But having one small bite, just to make sure it tastes up to standards? I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing to do. Like I said, call me a contrarian, but I've been doing it since I started baking cookies, and I'm guessing I won't be stopping any time soon.

(jim@wmqt.com), bad boy of baking.

Wednesday, 12/16

 And the hits just keep on coming.

Yesterday, you may recall about my adventure with my credit card company. Thankfully, that's all taken care of. I don't have to worry about it any more, and all I have to do is make sure we don't make the same mistake again.

So that's cool.

However, no more than an hour after finishing up that task I received some news that I knew was coming, although it didn't make it any better upon hearing it. As I've speculated about in here before, “High School Bowl”, the TV show I host, will not be on at all this year.

Covid claims another victim, darn it.

I am in no way surprised; in fact, it's a decision about which I was consulted and one with which I whole-heartedly occur. But seeing it in writing, and then having to inform the public about it, is different. As I wrote a few weeks ago this whole thing was like one of our Europe trips from earlier this year—you know it's not going to happen, but you always hold out a sliver of hope until a certain drop-dead date passes.

And I guess yesterday was the show's drop-dead date.

So...no “High School Bowl” this year. We're still aiming at picking it back up again in September, when a new school year starts and (hopefully) the two approved vaccines will have worked their magic. After all, we have a new set upon which to play, and a new logo, and all that cool stuff that the gang at WNMU-TV worked at hard & long. All that is ready to go.

Now all we need is for the world to cooperate, and we'll be all set.

Keep your fingers crossed, if you wouldn't mind.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 12/15

 Pull up a chair, kids, and I'll tell you the story of what it's like to be a cautionary tale.

A couple of weeks ago, Loraine was searching the web for a couple of soccer jerseys for some of her favorite players. Some are hard to find in the US, because (for some reason) the teams don't sell them to US residents. Anyway, she found a site, footballshirts.com, that would allow her to get everything she wanted.

So she ordered them.

We received a package from the company last week, and it didn't contain the jerseys she ordered. Oh, we now have a 2XL shirt from a bike racing team that hasn't existed for ten years, but not the three soccer jerseys. She sent them an email, but never heard back.

Then she went to another website, scamadviser.com, and found out that the company, which is based in Hong Kong, does this a lot. They are in no way reputable, and basically exist to separate people from their money. We can't figure out why they actually sent her the 10-year old bike shirt; maybe it's a loophole in Chinese law, or something, but Scam Adviser notes how what happened to Loraine has happened to other people over and over again.

She's bummed. But I'm not sure if what happened next happened to the other people.

Usually, when we buy something from some place we've never bought things from, we'll use my Pay Pal account. However, the Pay Pal button on the site wasn't working, so we just used my credit card. And because of that, I shouldn't have been surprised when, a few days later, I received a series of texts from my credit card company asking if I was purchasing several hundred dollars worth of stuff from Ali Baba, the Chinese version of Amazon.

Oops.

It only took a few hours of time that I really don't have, but after a series of phone calls that credit card was cancelled and I was issued a new one. I don't have to pay for the Ali Baba charge, but I do have to spend even more time I don't have changing numbers and dates on several auto-pay things for which I use my card. I'm usually so careful about stuff like this. I warn friends and family members about stuff like this. But for some reason this time around...

We blew it. Thankfully, no serious damage was done, aside from loss of time and whatever money we originally paid for the jerseys which we'll never see, but that's not the point. Despite everything I usually do and everything I usually espouse, we blew it.

So, to sum it up in the words of my grandfather—don't do as I do. Do as I say.

Trust me on that.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 12/14

 I think I've figured out my favorite Christmas album of all time. Just don't laugh when I tell you what it is.

Because things have been so strange this year I haven't had the chance to listen to any kind of holiday music at all, aside from a few new tracks to decide if we should play them on the air. While wrapping some gifts to send down to Florida this weekend I finally had the time to listen to a couple of albums, the ones that traditionally get played during my annual orgy of cookie baking, which sadly not doing this year, and it's while listening to the music that I realized I actually have a favorite Christmas album of all time.

And it's not what you think. It's not the soundtrack to “A Charlie Brown Christmas”, which I thought would've topped my list. It's not any of the “Very Special Christmas” compilations. It's not even a classic holiday album from Frank, or Bing, or Nat.

Nope. My favorite Christmas album of all times appears to be the soundtrack to the movie “Jingle All The Way”.

Have I lost (what's left of) my mind? Did I drink too much eggnog? Did I get a piece of tinsel stuck up my nose as a young child and short-circuit part of my brain as a result? (although, come to think of it, that WOULD explain a lot, wouldn't it?) Why, oh why would the soundtrack to a really bad Arnold Schwarzenegger movie be my favorite Christmas album of all time?

Because it, apparently, gives me everything I want in a Christmas album.

Let me explain. As bad as the movie is (and even though I haven't seen it in 20 years I remember that it's really, really bad), the soundtrack stands on its own. It has the first three or four attempts at Christmas music by the Brian Setzer Orchestra, a genre in which they totally kicked butt the next few years. It also has an amazing selection of Christmas classics, including Nat King Cole's “The Christmas Song” and Bobby Helm's “Jingle Bell Rock”. And it also has a cut from the movie's soundtrack that, while not technically Christmas music, still makes me think of the holidays. It's kind of a one-stop shop for my favorite Christmas tunes, all in one very strange place.

And that's why the soundtrack to “Jingle All The Way” appears to be my favorite Christmas album of all time. You may now proceed to start laughing your head off in disbelief.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 12/11

 To quote a great American philosopher, “Oops...I did it again”.

Sigh.

All this year I've been writing about a strange habit I've picked up, the habit of writing newspaper articles for the History Center, turning them in, and then promptly forgetting about them until weeks later when I open the paper and am shocked by what I see.

I'm thinking that maybe I should just stop reading the Mining Journal. That way I won't be shocked by myself!

8-)

So, to wrap up the week, I will once again re-purpose something I wrote weeks ago and then totally put out of my mind. This time of the year, we can always consider it the gift that keeps on giving.

That's okay. You can thank me later.

Have a great weekend!!!

(jim@wmqt.com)

*****

MARQUETTE'S DAY OF INFAMY

December 7^th, at least for the United States as a whole, has gone down in history as a “day of infamy”.For the city of Marquette, there's another December day that may be remembered in much the same way, although for very different reasons.

There haven't been too many days in Marquette history like Sunday, December 17^th, 1905. It began on the north side of the city at the Powder Mill, which was an explosives factory that Peter White had started in what is now Tourist Park. It supplied dynamite and other things that went “boom” to mines all around the UP. When it was constructed in 1869 it was put up as far as was then practical from the city itself, just in case there was accident.

And what with explosives being inherently unstable, there were a few accidents over the years. The most serious of which, prior to 1905, may have been an accident in the building where they packed the dynamite in 1881, which killed 11 people. That particular incident could have been much worse; the nitroglycerin building at the complex was within the blast radius. Thankfully, the building was protected by a huge boulder that pushed the shock wave away from the structure.

By 1905 DuPont was running the mill, and on that December morning something went very wrong. An explosion occurred in plant's mixing room, which at the time contained 1,000 pounds of dynamite and 1,400 pounds of nitroglycerin. The explosion was so strong it wrapped a 35-pound rail around a tree. It threw equipment a half a mile away. It killed five people, seriously injured 10 others, and was so strong that it actually broke windows at the Peter White Public Library in downtown Marquette, over three miles away.

That was only the start of the day.

A few hours later, in an entirely unrelated incident, the first Longyear Hall at NMU—the first structure ever built for the Northern Normal School—was also the scene of a tragedy. The building was only four years old, and it, along with White Hall, served as the backbone for the rapidly expanding school.

The afternoon of December 17^th Longyear Hall suffered major damage when a fire of undetermined origin broke out on the upper floor. By the time firefighters could get it under control, the blaze had damaged major portion of the building and consumed all of the school's equipment and art work.

Firefighters were able to save most of the school's fledgling library, but the classrooms in the structure were a loss. Officials at the Normal School said the fire wouldn't hinder the beginning of the winter semester, which were set to start after the holidays. They said they would find alternative places to hold classes until the damage could be repaired.

Longyear Hall was rebuilt in the next year and served a long and useful life until it was unceremoniously torn down in 1991. The heavily damaged Powder Mill complex faded into history as safer forms of making explosives were developed. However, the street that heads into what is now Tourist Park—Powder Mill Road—still bears the name of the facility, and it stands as a legacy to one most unique—and explosive—days in Marquette history.

Thursday, 12/10

 I'm doing my part. I don't know if it'll make a difference, but I'm doing my part.

I usually try to do this anyway, but because it's 2020 and so many local merchants have had a less than good year I'm attempting to buy as many Christmas gifts as possible at small mom & pop stores, especially here in downtown Marquette. I probably won't be entirely successful—there are a few things people want that you just can't get, uhm, in this country—but I'm trying to do my best.

Being a resident of downtown Marquette I've always tried to support my (literal) neighbors, but this year, what with stores being totally shut down for two months earlier this year and what with stores still being buffeted by the crapstorm that is 2020, I'd like to do my little bit to ease that burden.

It may not be an awful lot, but I'm doing my best.

Of course, restaurants have been hurt worst of all, what with spending most of the year only being able to offer take-out. I've been trying to order take out as much as possible this year, but whether or not that makes any difference, I don't know. Gift cards for my favorite places will make good gifts, even if they're just gifts for me to use sometime in the future (assuming, of course, that the places are still in business in the future, whenever that is), so that's my plan.

Another reason I'm doing this? I can. I know a lot of people who've been out of work or who have had their hours cut back, and just can't afford to try & support local businesses. I've been lucky. Even though I've been working alone for nine months now I have been working. My life really hasn't been tossed asunder, thankfully. So if I can do my part, no matter how small that part may be, I'm more than happy to do it.

This year, especially, more than ever.

So no matter where you are when you're reading this, think about the people who own local stores, and how they've been suffering this year. Then remember Amazon's been making record profits, and Wal-Mart's been making record profits.

Who do you think could use your shopping dollars more?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 12/9

 Maybe that’s why I’m always so calm.

While going through one of the eight zillion emails I get each and every day I came across a rather interesting fact. A new survey shows that people who compulsively check their phones for texts or messages or e-mails suffer anxiety or depression at a rate up to 60% higher than people who don’t.

Sixty percent higher!!!

I actually know a couple of people like that; people who look at their phone every two minutes and seem disappointed when there’s nothing new to attract their attention. These are the same people who will send me a text or an e-mail and then wonder why I don’t get right back to them, even if the text or e-mail was trivial in nature. Well, that’s probably because I don’t check my phone every two minutes. In fact, I can actually go (gasp) hours without even giving it a second thought.

Oh, the horror!!

Call me weird (it certainly wouldn’t be the first time) but I don’t see why I should be checking my phone every two minutes. After all, that’s like being at work or being on call 24 hours a day. I wouldn’t want to do it without a phone; why should I do it with a phone? There are times when you just need to separate yourself from whatever or whomever. You need to allow your brain to detach and de-tangle, and that doesn’t happen when you’re checking your phone every two minutes.

I can’t say I was surprised when I saw that statistic; we seem to live in a world where there’s too much information and not enough time to process it. And before you go thinking I’m a technological Luddite or something, be aware of the fact that I use technology just as much or more than the average person. I just don’t feel this. . .compulsion to use it every single second I’m awake. I’m fine with leaving my phone at home when I go to the beach or to leave it in another room when I’m spending time with loved ones. After all, what’s more important in the scheme of things, especially for your mental health--a walk on the beach, or a text message you really don’t need at that moment?

Now can you see why that survey was probably quite accurate?

So the next time you see someone in store or in their car or even (heaven forbid) in a restaurant (when they're open) spending time with someone else yet checking their phone every few minutes, make sure you don’t say “boo” around them.

After all, they’re probably anxious enough as it is.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 12/8

 We'll just have to see how it all turns out.

As you may be aware, I'm in the midst of putting together another documentary for the Marquette Regional History Center, this one taking the place of the usual Kaufman Auditorium show Jack Deo & I do every January. Entitled “Skis, Skates, and Slapshots”, it'll talk about the history of winter sports in the area. This one's Jack's baby, but we're drawing on the experience I had in putting together “Third Street: Day & Night” to make this a multimedia extravaganza.

With, of course, silly stories. You can't have a Jim & Jack show without silly stories.

One of the things we'll be replicating from “Third Street” in this production will be interviews with people who actually made local history on skis and skates. This time around, though, we'll be facing a few difficulties I didn't face this past summer. There's the Covid surge, the resultant “pause” (now extended through the 20^th ) in Michigan, and the fact that the people to whom we're speaking are all elderly and therefore fall into the high risk category for the disease.

That, however, (hopefully) won't stop us.

I don't know how people would've been able to conduct remote video interviews in the olden-days (you know, like 2015) but Zoom is a wonderful thing. Instead of asking these high-risk individuals to come into the History Center we'll just do the interviews remotely. Assuming, of course, they either can figure out how to Zoom or have someone around who can help them out. Sure, it'll make the documentary look a little different, but if someone stumbles upon it in 2035 or 2040 they can take one look at the production and say--

“That's SO 2020”. Because it will be.

8-)

We'll see how it all turns out. The world will also get a chance to check it out on January 21^st, 2021, the date on which we would've done the show live. And who knows—maybe this is the way in which we'll have to do ALL of our shows for now.

Time, of course, will tell.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 12/7

 Larger than life? Me? Really?

You sure you have the right person here?

I've been reading through some of the birthday greetings sent my way on Facebook and two Facebook friends of mine, from opposite ends of the country, mentioned a “larger than life” personality in describing me. While I admit I don't have the personality of a “normal” person, I don't know that I'd call it “larger than life”. Dorky, sure. Weird, perhaps. But “larger than life”?

I don't even think the Backstreet Boys would agree with that.

I mean, I guess I can see where they're coming from. I do things that “normal” people don't do; I do radio and TV and public speaking and all that stuff. But I don't know that that gives me a larger than life personality. Even when I do those things I'm low-key. I'm more observational than I am a “performer”. But that's because that's now I am in real life. No matter what I'm doing, what you see is what you get.

I'm just, you know, me. Doing what I do. Probably because I'm not that good at much of anything else.

It's funny; when I think of a “larger than life” personality I think of someone who's “on” at all times and who drives the world around them. That's not me. Like I said, I'm laid back. I notice things more than I drive things. I react, instead of instigate. I make the pithy little comments instead of the laugh out loud punchlines. That's just who I am. My public persona is exactly the same as my private persona, with the possible exception of a being a little better dressed when the “public” me is out there.

Yet, there are still some people who think I'm “larger than life”. I know they meant it as a compliment, and despite my whining I AM taking it that way. I just think they're running down the wrong path. I've known me a lot of years now, and the one thing that I would not call myself is “larger than life”. However, I've been wrong (many times) before, and I'm sure I'll be wrong again, so as far as this goes, who knows?

I just don't think I am.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 12/4

 I was supposed to be spending my birthday shooting a TV show. Now, I have no idea if that'll even happen at all this year.

First of all, I turn another year older today. That's not a big deal. As I joke each & every year if anyone deserves cheers and/or sympathy it's my mom, if only because I was born a month past my due date.

SHE'S the one who deserves all the accolades today.

I'm not big on birthdays, anyway. All it means is that I'm another year older, and if there's one thing that the Koskis don't do is acknowledge aging. So today would, during a normal year, just be another day, albeit one with pumpkin bars and mint chocolate chip ice cream. And, as it's been happening the past few years, a shooting date for that little TV show I host.

But alas...2020 has been anything BUT a normal year.

If things had gone according to the original plan we would've been shooting the first episode of our second round today. If things had gone according to the revised plan we put together after the original plan went out the window we'd be shooting the second episode of the season today. But because nothing has gone according to either original or backup plans this year, I get to spend my birthday not under the lights of a TV studio but sitting in my office, wondering if we'll ever get to shoot an episode at all this year.

I wouldn't take bets on it.

Once the original plans went out the window we thought we had a good revised plan in place; we'd shoot beginning in December so the programs could begin airing January 2^nd. We'd get a bunch of shows in the can this month and be off to a flying start. But between this third wave of the gunk and the fact that high school students aren't allowed any extracurricular activities (like, say, appearing on a TV show); well, those plans went out of the window, as well.

So instead of spending my birthday in my preferred way, I'll just go to work like it's a normal day. I do get birthday pizza tonight (thanks, Loraine) and thawed-out pumpkin bread (thanks, mom, for thinking of doing that before you escaped Michigan for the season), so it WILL be a little above average for a Friday.

It just won't be the exact way I had hoped to spend it. But it's 2020, so what are you gonna do right?

Have a great weekend...

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday,12/3

 I guess it's really not that bad. But at the same time, it really does suck.

December’s one of those months that I can’t quite decide if I really like; after all, it has the good (Christmas cookies, at least during a non-Covid year when I make Christmas cookies), the bad (cold, and no time to do anything), and the ugly (I turn another year older). But it also has something that happens during this time of the year. It gives me my only chance (or two) to see a phenomenon that I otherwise am unable (or unwilling) to experience.

That’s right--December allows me to see my only sunrise (or two) of the year.

Those of you who know me know that during most of the year I’m never awake to see a sunrise. The closest I come are those nights in June when I fall asleep a few hours before the sun rises. I’m not complaining, or anything; based on my body clock, that’s just a fact of life. But with the sun rising so late (if at all) during December, it does allow me the opportunity to get out and see it come up. . .if, of course, our ever-present cloud bank actually allows it.

This year, though, I've been a little lucky. Especially yesterday morning when there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

Yesterday, and on those various days when I do get to see a sunrise, it occurred when I was out running, and it usually seems to occur when I’m out running on the bike path near Shiras Park. I’m pretty sure you get the best view of a sunrise in Marquette from there; after all, there must be a reason a bunch of cars are parked in the lot every morning around the time the sun comes up. And I have to admit, the one sunrise (or two) a year I see from that location is much different than the sunsets I see from many different locations on a regular basis. The sunsets always seem to be “dirty”, for lack of a better word. When the sun goes down for the night it’s masked by all kinds of gunk in the air, kicked up by the activities of everyone during the day. Sure, the sunsets can be quite vivid, but like I said, they seem “dirty”.

Not the one sunrise (or two) a year I see, though. The atmosphere’s had the chance overnight to clean out all the gunk that accumulated in it the previous day, so that when the sun comes up, it comes up undiluted by the flotsam of the previous day. Like the daybreak it heralds, the sun when rising is clean and clear and full of promise. I can see why people enjoy watching it come up, and I’d do it more often myself, if only during most of the year the sun just didn’t come up so darn early.

So aside from Christmas cookies, I guess you can add “sunrises” to the list of good things that December brings. I’m not quite sure if those two outweigh the cold and lack of time and the fact that I turn a year older, but at least December has one or two things going for it.

Unlike, say, January. But that’s a topic for another month!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 12/2

 This may be turning into “Birthday at the Beach” all over again.

Some of you may remember four or five years ago when it was mild few days heading into my birthday and I actually (as a gag) went to the beach on my big day. I did it because after mentioning it a few times on the air it seemed to touch a nerve with a lot of people; even Loraine was getting people she works with ask if I was actually going to the beach in December.

On occasion, especially on an occasion like that, I get reminded about the power of radio.

Anyway, something (kind of) along those lines seems to be happening again. My birthday is Friday, so as a gag (or, mostly as a gag) I decided that we'd figure out Upper Michigan's favorite Hall & Oates song on “Upper Michigan's Favorite Friday”. In the promo I wrote for it I had our announcer mention that we're doing it because it's my birthday and because I wanted to listen to Hall & Oates songs all day.

I mean, sure...it's a joke. But I COULD think of worse ways to spend my birthday.

Anyway, since the promo started airing over the weekend I've had over half a dozen people call or e-mail in their requests for Hal & Oates songs as a birthday gift to me. As one lady said, “Why should you have to wait until your birthday to hear a song. Play one for yourself now”.

Wow. I had no idea that a). people actually listened to those promos, and 2). that they cared enough to want me to have a nice birthday. But like I said, on occasion I get reminded about the power of radio.

Wow.

I'm glad to know that that power is still around; after almost a year of me working alone and listeners having their lives and their listening patterns disrupted I was starting to wonder things were still working the way they were supposed to. But this kind of reaction, especially for something as dorky as a bunch of Hall & Oates songs, lets me know that despite everything going on some things never change.

And that's kind of a cool gift as we're heading toward me getting another year older. Sure, it's not me spending my birthday at the beach (although I could, because the forecast does call for sun (and, uhm, 36 degrees)), but this year, especially, I'll take what I can get.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 12/1

 How stupid is it that I can't even spell the word in English anymore?

I tell you; it's not easy being me sometimes. As those of you who read this on a regular basis know my mind sometimes does stuff that defies logic and/or reality. There are days or times when I don't seem to have any control over it (my mind, that is), and that once again became apparent when I was writing yesterday's blog, the one about our Thanksgiving dinner. As I was typing it, I noticed I spelled one of the ingredients like--

Pistache

Now, I know what it means. It's a certain kind of nut that I gobble by the handful, and a certain kind of nut that resides in my favorite French & Belgian chocolate bars. And that probably explains why I wrote it in the blog in French; after all, when I see it written down it's usually in that language. I can understand that. What I can't understand is why, after realizing I wrote it in French and then went to change it to English, that I had absolutely NO idea how to spell the word “pistachio” in my native language.

Sometimes I amaze even myself. And usually not in a good way.

I stared at the word when I tried to write it in English, but it still resembled the French version more than it did the English (well, technically, Italian, right?) way of writing it. For whatever reason, my brain couldn't comprehend the translation of the word from my second language to my first. It just didn't work. So I did what any reasonable person did—I pulled out my phone, went to Google, and typed in “p-i-s-t” where, within a matter of nanoseconds, the English version of the word popped up on my screen. It still didn't look right, but I figured that if anyone knew how to spell it Google would know how to spell it.

After all, everything we find on the Internet is correct all the time, right?

Anyway, “pistachio” is now immortalized on the blog, even though it still looks a little too strange for my tastes. And that reminds me—I need to buy more. The dinner depleted my supply. So the next time we're at the store I'll have to pick another package up. However, given my track record of late, it wouldn't surprise me if I spent a big chuck of the day wandering around the grocery store in search of “pistaches”.

I just hope there's someone there who speaks French and can point me in the right direction. If not, well...it's not easy being me. Really, it isn't.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com), lost cause, from the sounds of it.

Monday, 11/30

 It turned out pretty well, thanks for asking.

First of all, hope you had a great Turkey Day weekend, in whatever form it took this year. My girlfriend and I did, taking the soccer balls out into Thanksgiving (!) sunshine before digging into that casserole-type thingee I mentioned last time we met. It took parts of two days, but we were both happy with the end result--

It all started Wednesday night, when I roasted a turkey breast with rosemary butter and made home made cranberry sauce. Then after we kicked the balls around for an hour Thursday I put those two ingredients together with cornbread stuffing and baby spinach, and topped the whole things with chopped pistachios.

20 minutes later at 350, and we had ourselves a feast. And, without tooting my own horn (too much), a pretty good feast at that.

I can't claim full credit for the dish; Loraine found a recipe that called for some of the ingredients, and I just took it from there. It called for turkey cubes (whatever those are), but I went the roasted rosemary butter route. I also chose the cornbread stuffing instead of boring old white bread stuffing. The recipe called for dried cranberries; it was Loraine who suggested I make fresh sauce. And, for some strange reason (probably because this is America) the recipe called for the whole thing to be covered by half a pound of cheddar cheese.

Thankfully, my girlfriend thought of topping it with the chopped pistachios instead. Have I ever mentioned we make a pretty good team?

8-)

So that's how the Covid Thanksgiving dinner turned out. It wasn't what we usually eat and it wasn't where we usually eat it, but we made do. Hopefully, he says way too optimistically, by the time the next holiday rolls around we'll be able to celebrate it at least partially like we usually do. But if not, I think we'll be able to handle it.

I really do.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 11/25

They say the average Thanksgiving dinner only goes 64% according to plan. I'll have to see if I can beat the odds.

That statistic once again comes form “Jim's Weird Fact of the Day”, which means that somewhere some scientist sat down and crunched the numbers. Apparently, when putting together a Thanksgiving dinner, you have hopes & dreams as to how it will turn out. And, on average, 64% of your hopes & dreams come true. That number goes up to 90% if you don't have guests, which means that if you DO have guests you are, from the looks of it, setting yourself up for failure.

Good thing you're not supposed to have guests over this year, huh?

8-)

Because of the pandemic and family members either playing it safe or in other parts of the country it's just me & my girlfriend for Thanksgiving for the first time in a LONG time. Aside from an apple pie I'm getting from the grocery store my sister owns, I'm putting together the whole feast myself. Don't worry; I'm not going whole hog by cooking a whole turkey just for the two of us. Instead, I'm making a casserole-type thingee that combines cranberry sauce (which I made myself), stuffing mix (made of cornbread, so I'm hoping it's okay), and a turkey breast, which I'm roasting tonight in a rosemary-sage butter that I made up last night.

Hopefully, it'll turn out closer to the 90% than the 64%. We'll just have to see.

I know it'll be a strange Thanksgiving for everyone, Loraine and I included. I'm just hoping that, no matter how or with whom you're celebrating, that you have a safe and a fun holiday. And that your celebration, like mine (fingers crossed) is closer to 90 percent than 64!

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—due to work schedules this may be the final entry for the week. If that's the case, see you Monday. If not, see you Friday!) 

Tuesday, 11/24

 11 am, huh?

I have no idea why this fact interests me so, but it does. For some strange reason, someone did a survey on death; specifically, someone did a survey on the typical times and dates people die. For instance, according to this study in the Annals of Neurology, the older you get, the more likely you are to die on your birthday (which means I should be REALLY careful next week). You're also a little more likely to die after getting a paycheck, as well (probably from the shock of seeing how underpaid you are). And, more people die in the late morning than at any other time. In fact, a few minutes either side of 11 am seems to be the deadliest time of the day for humans.

For whatever reason.

I used it as my “Weird Fact of the Day” yesterday, and for whatever reason it's been stuck in my head ever since. Why 11 am? You always hear about people dying in their sleep, so shouldn't it be 3 in the morning? And you know how many drunk drivers are out there, so why not 11 pm? Nope; the most likely time for a human to die is around 11 am.

And that's exactly how it was worded—”for a human”. I don't know if that's because they were writing in, you know, the Annuals of Neurology and wanted to be specific, or if they included chipmunks or brown bears or squid in the study, but if you're a human—and I'm guessing that's, oh, 60% or so of you reading this—you're more likely to die at 11 am than any other time.

Yikes.

I'm hoping I'm safe; after all, most days at 11 am I've been awake a couple of hours, I've quaffed a cup or two of (green) tea, and I've had my morning dark chocolate. All those are things that are good for your health. I'm usually at work by then, which means that I've successfully navigated crossing a bunch of streets without getting hit by a car. And it's usually early enough so that all the little things that might cause one's blood pressure to shoot out of control haven't happened yet.

11 am seems safe for me. I hope it is for you, too. However, I will stick in this addendum--if you're reading this within a couple of minutes of 11 am today, be careful out there. After all, I'd like you to come back tomorrow (at 11 am or any time) and read this again.

The more you know, after all...

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 11/23

 It took me 24 hours to figure it out, but I really am a lucky person.

My girlfriend Loraine was watching an interview over the weekend with Noel Gallagher, the brains behind Oasis, and the interviewer was throwing a series of rapid-fire questions at him. He would be given two items, and he had to choose which one he would give up forever if he was forced to pick. Most of them were goofy and musically oriented (“The Stones or The Who”? “Fender or Gibson”?) and gave Gallagher fits having to choose, but there was one he had no problem with—the city or the beach? He rattled off “the city” quickly; as it turns out, he doesn't even like the beach. The question, though, stuck with me. If I was forced to choose between giving up either the city or the beach, the two places I love to be in more than any other, I don't think I could. It's be like Sophie having to choose between her children.

There's just no good outcome to that question, and no one—NO ONE—should ever be forced to have to make that horrid decision.

As I've written in here many times before, I am an urban creature. I need concrete and I need people and I need the feeling of being a part of something, even in the joy that is 2020. If you were to force me to live in the woods or in someplace without a sidewalk I probably couldn't handle it. And as I've written in here before, my dream job is being a (highly paid) beach bum. So the thought of having to choose between the two just wouldn't work.

As I was running this morning I came to a realization. I realized that, living where I live, I would never have to make that choice. I would never have to choose between being in a city or going to a beach. I can have my concrete and sidewalks and people, and I can have my beach. I can have them at the same time. In fact, I've had them at the same times many times, as I leave work or my apartment, and hop on a bike or take a short walk down to McCarty's Cove or South Beach. I actually live in a place where I can be in a city AND a beach at the same time.

I live in a place that has BOTH of my versions of heaven. How many people get to say that?

I mean; seriously—how many people get to say that? How many people get to be in an urban core of a city and yet have a beach a few seconds away? Very few. And of those few, how many actually take time out of their day to appreciate it? I mean, even I think I've been a little guilty of taking the fact that Marquette has great beaches for granted; after all, they're just part of what makes this city so wonderful. Maybe it took that question to point out just how amazingly lucky we are here. Maybe when you're pondering having to choose between two incredible things, your eyes are opened just a little bit more as to how lucky you really are.

I hope I never, ever have to answer that question posed to Noel Gallagher. But in a way, I'm glad he was asked.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 11/20

 Sure...just one day after admitting I've been subverting the will of the voters I get a note that calls me “a friend of democracy”.

Oh boy.

8-)

Yesterday, I was joking about not being happy with “Kokomo” being named Upper Michigan's favorite Beach Boy song ever, and how I was going out of my way to try to get that overturned (not that that would EVER happen in real life). When the mail came to the station after I wrote the blog there was a thank you card in it from the League of Women Voters, who wanted to express their appreciation for the series of educational and “Get Out The Vote” announcements we ran prior to the election. And in it, they truly did say that I am “a friend of democracy”.

Do I feel like a heel now, or what?:

You see, I really am a friend of democracy. I believe each and every vote counts, that the people who run elections know what they're doing, and that if you lose, you should accept the results. Because, you know, that's how a representative democracy works. No matter how much you don't like the way it turned out, you just can't try to get rid of votes against you. You can't. That's not how it works. And I should not have done that with the vote of our listeners naming “Kokomo” as Upper Michigan's favorite Beach Boys song ever.

So here's my vow. From now on, I WILL play the liner I was talking about yesterday each time before the song airs. After all, as “a friend of democracy”, it's the right thing to do. The people have spoken. If I don't follow their wishes, I'm not better than any autocrat or dictator who's ever tried to rule unjustly.

So “Kokomo” it is. All “friends of democracy” can rest assured that their vote will count, now and forever.

(jim@wmqt.com), friend of democracy.

Thursday, 11/19

 I wonder if I'm being a little too petty.

Let me explain. Those of you who've listened to the station know that for the 13 or 14 years we've been doing this thing called “Upper Michigan's Favorite Friday”, in which we take listener votes for Upper Michigan's favorite song by a particular artist or along a particular theme. I usually don't have an opinion on which song wins; after all, it's not Jim's favorite song by a particular artist or along a particular theme, it's Upper Michigan's favorite, and my vote is just one out of 300,000. Once we find out the winner, we play a liner before we play the winning song, saying something along the lines of “Q107-WMQT, with the song you voted as Upper Michigan's favorite ______ song ever”. After all, if the song wins the honor, it should be noted for everyone listening, right?

Well, I'm gonna come clean here, because there's one winning song for which we don't play the liner. I know that because I played it yesterday.  And since I'm the one who schedules the liners, I think that maybe I'm allowing my personal opinion to override the votes of all of our listeners. And I don't know if that's a good thing. I'll let you guys decide.

I think I've written here too many times about my admiration for the talent of and the songs written by Brian Wilson. I think he's one of the iconic pop composers of the last 50 years, and when you dive into the breadth of his work for The Beach Boys, you just walk away stunned. I don't think anyone would disagree, and I think everyone can name at least one song of his from the group's catalog that puts a smile on their face.

And yet listeners, twice, have picked “Kokomo”, a schlocky piece of movie soundtrack fodder recorded 20 years after the group's heyday, as Upper Michigan's favorite Beach Boys song ever. Not “Good Vibrations”, not “God Only Knows”, not “California Girls”, but “Kokomo”, a song recorded by only two or three members of the original group and featuring among its four co-writers only one of those two or three original members. That would be like Bernie Leadon and Don Felder recording a Randy Meisner song and having people vote for it as Upper Michigan's favorite Eagles song ever.

It's just not right.

Now, like I said, maybe I'm a little biased here. Maybe my admiration for Brian Wilson and the work of the original group is clouding my judgment. But I don't consider “Kokomo” a Beach Boys song. Sure, it's a song recorded by people who call themselves “The Beach Boys”, but does it stack up next to anything the original group recorded? I don't believe so. But a plurality of our listeners do, which is why it's been twice voted as “Upper Michigan's favorite Beach Boys song ever”. And since you can't change the results of an election by, oh, threatening to sue or threatening to throw out votes or by just refusing to acknowledge the results, I'll just have to protest my own way.

By not scheduling the liner before the song every time it plays.

Yes, I know it's petty. It's like a six year old holding their breath because they can't have a Snickers bar for dinner. I should take the high road and play the liner before the song; after all, the song won the vote, and often times in a democracy your candidate doesn't win. A big person accepts the results and moves on.

A sore loser doesn't play the liner. A sore loser can be a bit petty about it all. And that, in this instance, describes me.

Sorry about that. I will be a better person than that.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 11/18

 Apparently I'm swearing to myself in German quite a bit these days.

Actually, let me rephrase that a little. I'm not actually "swearing" so much as verbalizing the insanity of 2020.  And while I don't know a lot of German, among the phrases I do know are “Mein Gott” and the all-purpose German declarative “Scheisse”. Since, as I mentioned yesterday, I now work alone, every so often, either to keep my vocal chords limber or because I've forgotten to do something or,  as I said, to express general bemusement at the way the world is going, I'll let loose with one of those phrases.

If things are going really well I might even use both.

I don't know why I started doing it; after all, if I were going to swear in a foreign language you'd figure it would be French, right? But nope; for some strange reason, if I need to let loose with an epithet, it's in German. I don't know if there's something kind of guttural or ephemeral about German, but it just seems a little more satisfying to let loose in that language, especially the way it reverberates around an empty studio complex.

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

I suppose I could break it up a little. I suppose I could use Google Translate and see those phrases in different languages. For instance, I could shout out “mano dieve“ or "môj Bože“ or "tanrım “ if I wanted to use Lthuanian or Slovak or Azerbaijani, respectively. And I could replace "Scheisse“ with "bok“, "merda”, or “lapoa “ in Turkish, Portugese, or Samoan, should I feel like it.

If I wanted to.

I may have to put that on my list of things to do, which means that I'll be getting to it by, uhm, June of 2022. But until then, I still have the old German fallbacks upon which to fall back. I just wish I knew why I actually started doing it, just like I wish I knew how I do most things in my life these days.

Mein Gott!!!

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 11/17

 It's been eight months. What's a few more between friends?

What with Michigan's latest (& much-needed) quasi-lockdown order starting tomorrow it doesn't look like I'll be joined by co-workers any year soon. Not that I mind; after all, I've written in here several times about how I seem to get much more done when I'm not being bothered by anyone. But, that being said, it's been eight months.

I'm actually old enough to remember when we thought this would all be over in two or three weeks.

I'm guessing that I'll be working by myself for the foreseeable future. After all, even if one of the vaccines they're developing were to be approved tomorrow it would still be quite a while before it was manufactured, distributed, and then given to everyone. I'm not a scientist, nor to I play one on TV, but I wouldn't not be surprised one way or another if I'm still sitting here alone six months from now.

In fact, I'm planning on it.

Not only will I be working alone for the foreseeable future, but all this also has an effect on both TV Jim and History Jim. The newest order doesn't allow high school students to partake in extracurricular activities through (at least) December 8^th.. We were supposed to start shooting “High School Bowl” on December 2^nd. So, we'll have to see how that turns out.

Meanwhile, History Jim and his show partner Jack Deo have had their annual January show at Kaufman Auditorium transitioned from in-person to pre-produced. That's right; our “Skates, Skis, and Slapshots” program will now be a video a-la the “Third Street: Day & Night” thing I did this past summer. I'll be curious to see how it all turns out. After all, it was easy to transition one of my tours to video; if I can do it with one of those unwieldy shows Jack & I put together, I'll be impressed.

Really, really, impressed.

But for now, I'll just keep going to work as I have every morning, and taking it a day at a time. We've all been doing it for eight months now; what's another five or six between friends, right?

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 11/16

 So...just what am I missing out on by not liking stuffing?

A couple of years ago on our “Tuesday Topic” we asked listeners about the food they most enjoy on Thanksgiving. And I have to admit I was a little surprised when the winner was stuffing. Not turkey, not pumpkin pie, my two favorites, but stuffing. And then Loraine and I (excuse me...my girlfriend and I) spent several minutes this weekend on what we want to have for our 2-person stay-at-home 2020 Thanksgiving celebration, and a casserole that contains stuffing seems to be the winner.

Hmmm. Guess I'll have to start liking it, huh?

I think this all proves a couple of things, one being that it's further evidence I'm not like other human beings. I've never been a big fan of stuffing, and I don't know that I ever will be a big fan. I don't know why; I like many of the ingredients that go into stuffing. But I guess I've just never liked the overall end result, per se, of stuffing. I don't know if it's the flavor, the texture, or the fact that it's usually shoved up a turkey's butt to cook. For whatever reason, I personally don't like stuffing.

But I know I'm in the minority here. I know that every other single person with whom I traditionally share my Thanksgiving dinner adores the dish. And they're probably happy I don't like it. After all, it just means more for them. From the sounds of it, I'm guessing this would also get replayed in any other households where there are a bunch of stuffing lovers and one naysayer. The people who love the dish—the vast, vast majority of people—get a little more because there's one person who, for whatever rational or (ahem) irrational reason doesn't like it.

You know...like at any Thanksgiving dinner where I'm a guest. Unless, of course, someone figured out a way to make it with chocolate. Then, just maybe, I might consider it.

Maybe.

8-)

But, I guess we'll see how it turns out when I use it as an ingredient next week. Who knows...maybe I'll end up like that kid in those old Life cereal commercials and actually like it. That's happened before, after all.

And if that's the case, you can just start calling me Mikey. I'll have earned it.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 11/13 (!)

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

It's my nephew Abel's 4^th birthday tomorrow, and as he's growing up we have quite the interesting relationship. For the first two years of his life, he would cry every time he saw me. He didn't do that for anyone else; I was just the lucky person in that regard. Since then, though, he knows me as the uncle with the camera, and since Abel apparently wants to be a model when he grows up guess who's become one of his favorite people in the world?

Yup. That's me; coolest uncle in the world.

So happy birthday, Abel. And if anyone disagrees that maybe he might not become a model some day, look at one of the (hundreds) of pictures he's had his personal staff photographer take--

See what I mean?

8-)

*****

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

For the 22nd time (22 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.

(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...

Thursday, 11/12

 To paraphrase a guy who wrote a thing or two a long time ago—to bake, or not to bake. That is the question.

This is usually the time of the year when my mind drifts to making Christmas cookies, and while it has drifted there it's for two entirely different reasons than usual. And, like everything else that's happened this year, that's thanks to 2020.

First of all, when I'm done writing this I'm going over to my parents to bake their Christmas cookies. Normally, I do this the weekend before the holiday, but because they're trying to escape the Covid wasteland that is Michigan by going to Florida this weekend (and not coming back until next Spring) I need to bake their cookies now so they can freeze them, take them down there with them, and enjoy eating them on the actual holiday along with other Christmas-like items along the lines of palm trees and ocean breezes.

Now, because of the fact that a big chunk of my family won't be here for the holidaze and because I'm guessing most people don't want food from people they don't live with, I've also made the decision not to, for the first time in decades, make many (if any) cookies to give to people. This is a big thing; normally, as you know, I make six or seven different kinds and give them out to family and friends. But this year, I'd feel weird giving them out to people, especially because you're supposed to avoid things like food from other people. And since the people I would not feel weird giving them to won't be here to get the cookies...

That's why I'm not making them this year.

Actually, I will be making one or two of the usual kinds, just because my girlfriend wants to munch on them and because there are a few other people who said they wouldn't mind eating them. But it won't be the full-blown, several day production, followed by the mass distribution of 30,000-some calories to the greater Marquette area. It was one of the only holiday traditions I had...but, like many things this year, that tradition has, sadly, bitten the dust.

Hopefully, though, just temporarily.

So, if you don't mind, I have to head six blocks down the hill to bake whatever I need to bake today. You better believe I'll enjoy doing it, as well, if only because I won't have the chance to do it again much this year.

Sigh...

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 11/11

 Even a few days later we're still chuckling about it

I think I've written in here before about how a lot of people mention they see Loraine & I walking everywhere. It's just a fact of life; we do walk a lot, a lot of people seem to know who we are, and for whatever reason it sticks in their head. In fact, it's gotten to the point where if someone DOESN'T bring up our walking habit sometime in the course of us knowing them it just seems weird.

But that's life. And it's not what we're laughing about.

Yesterday I met someone for the first time. And one of the things she mentioned was about seeing Loraine and I walking everywhere. Only, she phrased it just a little differently than people who know us better. She said that she sees me “and my girlfriend walking everywhere”. And while I do consider Loraine my girlfriend, she is also a little more than that. When I pointed out that we're married, my new acquaintance looked at me and said this--

“Oh, I'm sorry. You look like you actually like each other, so that's my mistake”.

Yup. The reason we don't look like we're married? Because we look like we like each other. Who knew?

8-)

When I mentioned this to my girlfriend Loraine last night she burst out laughing, and then kinda wondered about the reasoning behind it. Does that mean that people who are married are supposed to look like they DON'T like each other? Are we just weird, and for some reason still have the look that a dating couple has? Is there something in the background of the person I met that leads her to believe you can't be happy & married at the same time?

I'm not sure. I just know that my girlfriend and I just thought it funny. And interesting. And, if I have to admit it, kind of reassuring, too. I mean, I know we like each other. But it's kind of nice to know that other people notice it, too.

See what you get when you walk everywhere, and people notice you doing it?

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—speaking of the geeky couple, here we are after taking the soccer balls out in the 73 degree weather Sunday--

(I know...we're weird. But that's what boyfriends and girlfriends should be on occasion, right? 8-) )