Thursday, 4/29

 Three little things today, all of which are good news in and of themselves but put together make great news.

Or, at least, great news to me.

The first is that it's been two weeks since my second Covid shot. I am now invincible...or, at least, as immune as is scientifically possible. That means I can now (per the CDC) venture mask-free into a space with other vaccinated people, which thanks to the second piece of good news will be vital in a few months, because...

“High School Bowl” will be back this fall!

Yup. The TV show I host is a firm “go” for this upcoming school year. We start taping at the end of September, and the shows start airing the beginning of November. We finally get to use the new set built last year, some of the brightest young people on the planet get to show just how bright they are, and I get to make a fool of myself on television for 20 straight weeks.

How can you go wrong with that?

The third piece of good news is that I'm taking another long weekend this weekend, and don't have to work tomorrow. That just leaves me with, uhm, 20-some vacation days to use up before September, so I guess I'm on track, right?

Right?

That means, of course, that there won't be a new one of these tomorrow and, if you're trying to tune in on the air, you'll hear examples from years past of me making a fool of myself. Maybe I should actually listen to some of them because come September, I'll need that particular skill for “High School Bowl”, won't I?

8-)

Have yourself a great weekend. Try not to be too much of a fool yourself. I'll do my best to cover for everyone!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 4/28

 Okay, American Airlines, what's the deal?

After two years of not going anywhere Loraine and I have decided to dip our feet back into the waters of travel. Because Europe is just beginning to think about opening up for Americans we decided we'd pay a visit to an American city we enjoyed a few years ago, Savannah, Georgia. We're going for a long weekend, and because we have a bunch of them stashed away, we decided to pay for the airline tickets with frequent flier points. That worked out fine, except for one bizarre thing--

I had to use 6,000 more miles than Loraine did.

I'm not kidding—we bought tickets at the exact same time Sunday, on the same flights as each other. Loraine had to use 25,000 miles, while I had the honor of forking over 31,500. I'm not complaining; after all, flying across the country for just the $11.00 in taxes you have to pay is a great deal. But why, oh why, was I charged 6,500 more miles?

What's the deal, American?

You know me and logic, and me and the absurd, and this deal tops the charts on both. I have no idea WHY I was charged more than Loraine for buying the same flights at the same time. The only thing that I can think of—and this might be a stretch—is that I've used miles to fly somewhere before, and Loraine hasn't. Maybe she gets a bonus for a first-time flight, or maybe I'm being punished for having the audacity to use miles again.

I don't know if that's it, but it is literally the only thing that's different between our purchases. So there's that.

But no matter how many miles it cost, we're going somewhere father than (checking my schedule to see where we've been since the pandemic began) Eben this summer. That's the important thing. We get to go to an airport, we get to get on a plane, and we get to see the world from 30-some thousand feet again.

I'd fork over twice the 31,500 miles for that. And then I'd still wonder why Loraine was only charged 25,000.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 4/27

 Now I'm not so sure who's going to win the race.

You may recall a few weeks ago when, during a very warm snap, I posted a pictures of lilac buds that were starting to burst, and then wondering which would arrive first—the flowers, or my parents on their return from Florida. Since then, we're had nothing but cold temperatures and the occasional snow flurry, so with nine days before my parents come home, here's what their competition looks like--

While the buds are out further than they would be this time of the year, I don't know they they'll make it all the way out by the end of next week. Especially when you consider what we had to deal with yesterday--

It's still kind of hard for me to believe it was sunny & in the 70s a few weeks ago and now it's, uhm, not. It's just not fair, I tell you, it's not fair!

8-)

I took the lilac picture Sunday, when it was cold (only 35) but at least the sun was out. I also wandered around for a while to see what I could see, and was happy to see SOME flowers have managed to flower--

Some of the domes were enjoying the sun--

And someone was trying his luck fishing the Whetstone--

I also saw signs of the one constant in Marquette these days (aside from the cold)—construction work--

And more construction work--

And, look---even more construction work!

And finally, I saw something I guess we should call a “Sign of the Times”--

(jim@wmqt.com), patiently waiting for the temperatures to get back to the 70s...and soon!

Monday, 4/26

 So...just what IS the protocol for removing dead people from your contacts?

I'm curious because I had to add a couple of new numbers to my phone over the weekend, and it made me think about that question. Actually, it made me think about a couple of things, the other being that heaven forbid I—we, actually—have to remember phone numbers these days, right? I mean, the only phone numbers I know without having to look them up are Loraine, both my parents, and the Q107 transmitter, which I have to call every time something goes wrong.

Can you guess which one I wish I didn't know by heart?

Anyway, as I was adding the new numbers in I noticed my phone contained the numbers of three people who, sad to say, have passed away in the past couple of years. They were individuals Loraine and I had met in the course of her World War II research, and people who had become cherished friends in the process. Sadly, they were also all in the 80s or 90s when we met, and sadly, like many people in their 80s and 90s, they're now gone.

So when I saw I still have their numbers, I found myself in a bit of a quandary. After all, I don't need them any more. They're dead. But, for whatever reason, it didn't feel right deleting their info. I don't know why. The rational, logical part of me knows I don't need the numbers any more. But to the rest of me it just didn't seem right to get rid of the info. It's a dichotomy I can't explain. It's not like by deleting the numbers I'm removing them from my life. That happened when they passed away. And it's not like I'm ever gonna use the numbers again. Knowing my luck, I'd accidentally touch of the entries and call the number, only to have whoever picked it up when it was reassigned by the phone company answer the call and wonder what's going on.

Just what is one to do? Is there a proper etiquette for dealing with a situation like this?

In the end, the logical, rational, and practical side of me won out, and the numbers are gone. I know I don't need them, and I know there's absolutely no reason for me to digitally carry them around with me. So there—I guess we can now consider that the proper etiquette for dealing with a situation such as this.

Still, it just seems strange not having them in my phone. Now, if I could only do that with the number for our transmitter...

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 4/23

 It's Friday. I'm really going to smell by the end of the day.

It's funny, too, because Fridays are the only days I smell by the end of the day. It's not because of any personal hygiene habits, or some strange vortex in the space-time continuum. You wanna know why I smell at the end of work each and every Friday?

I smell at the end of work each and every Friday because of the Marquette Elks Club.

Seriously. The Elks Club is next door to the station, and they have their fish fry each and every Friday. From what some people have told me, it's one of the better and more popular fish frys in the area, and they end up frying a lot of fish. It usually begins a little before four, and I can almost set my watch (even though I don't wear one) to it.

For some reason, even though our buildings aren't physically connected (there's a four or five foot gap between them) the smell of the oil in which they fry their fish permeates the studio. I have no idea how or no idea why, but by the time I get home from work on some Fridays my clothes smell like they belong to someone who's been working over the fry machine at a fast food restaurant all day. Even Loraine notices it and, on occasion, makes me change my shirt before I give her a hug.

That's how bad it can be.

Like I said, I have no idea why it gets into our building. And it only started a few months ago. Before that, the only way I knew they had a fish fry was by all the cars parked around the building when I walked home from work on Fridays. So what's changed?

Well, my first thought was that their kitchen exhaust might be near the air intake for our HVAC system, but I've shut it off several Fridays and was still treated to the odor of hot grease in the air. I've gone outside to try & smell exactly where it's coming in, but with no luck. It doesn't actually smell that bad outside, and why the odor gets so concentrated when it enters our building is a mystery to me. I don't know that much about construction or about fluid mechanics, so I'm stumped.

All I know is that I often smell like a fish fry at the end of the day.

I'll have to do a little more recon today and see if any more clues as to why this pop up. And if I don't find those clues, maybe I'll just chalk it up to it being the 16^th month of 2020. A lot of weird things have been happening recently, after all. Why shouldn't me smelling like a fish fry each & every Friday be one of them?

Have yourself a great (and grease-free) weekend!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 4/22

 Like all good Gen Xers, I blame my parents.

Don't worry; I'm really not blaming them for anything other than warping me for life, which is the duty of any parent. But at least when they warped me it was in a good, although in this case, a time-consuming way.

Let me backtrack a little. As you know, I've been producing another series of those “Pieces of the Past” video history shorts. The final one I did this time around was the culmination of everything my new video editing software and new camera can do—digital effects, HD video, and a screen split into four different shots. I'm really happy with how it turned out, and thanks to the way my parents warped me it only took eight different attempts to get it right.

Thanks, mom & dad.

8-)

I put the video together the first time and then rendered it, which is basically digitally mastering the master file so people can watch it. It's a process that takes a little time. So when I watched the mastered file the first time, I wasn't quite happy with an edit. So I changed it, and then re-rendered it. I watched it again, and noticed another slight change I could make. After re-rendering it again, I pondered changing the rhythm of it a little, which is something no one else would have noticed but was something that was slowly driving me insane. So I changed it, re-rendered it again, and then watched it again.

You can guess what happened after that.

I blame my parents for turning me into a perfectionist. After all, they were the one who told me “If it's worth doing something, it's worth doing something right”, which is the reason I watched a video eight different times and noticed one small little thing that absolutely no one else would've noticed. But to me, it wasn't right, which is the reason I re-did it eight times.

In the end, though, I'm happy with the way it turned out. Given endless time and endless chances I'm sure I would make many more changes to it, but seeing as how it's just a three minute piece with a bunch of old pictures, I'm going to say the eighth time is the charm and leave it at that.

So when you watch it, remember that it looks the way it does because my parents warped me for life in one of the best ways possible. I wasn't joking, after all, when I said “thanks, mom & dad”

 

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—the bigger the screen on which you watch this, the better it looks...at least in my semi-perfectionist opinion!)

Wednesday, 4/21

 Did you know I was young once?

I know. It's shocking, isn't it? But I came across a picture yesterday proving that, indeed, I was young once. Or, at least, there was a time that I didn't have gray hair and actually looked like I wasn't totally jaded by life. Wanna see it?

Yup. That's from when Loraine and I got hitched a century or so ago (or, at the very least, in the last century). Why did I come across a picture of our wedding day? Well, I needed to find it because that amazing moment occurred 32 years ago today.

Yup. It's our anniversary today.

We lucked out the day we got married. It was sunny & in the 60s, so we were able to to it on the Courthouse steps. However, not every April 21^st has been like that, ranging from the cold of today to several monster snow storms. I'd like to think that Mother Nature, despite the frenemy-like relationship we seem to have developed, looked kindly upon us that day.

I'd also like to think that Loraine and I have this relationship thing figured out. Oh, we haven't been able to do all of our favorite things the past year, but I'd like to think we've muddled through, even if I DO have more gray hair than brown these days--

Happy anniversary, L. Let's celebrate with Ben & Jerry's and dreams of Germany!!!

Love,

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 4/20

 Wow. I just did something that would almost qualify me as a Yooper.

We've discussed this in here before, about how I, even though I was born in the UP and have spent over 85% of my life here, am not considered a “Yooper”. I don't do things Yoopers do, and I've had people from all across the UP inform me that despite my birthplace I'm not a Yooper. According to people ranging from Munising to Champion I'm a “city boy”, both because I'm from Marquette and because I prefer concrete over trees & swamps.

I'm just a bad person, I guess. Or at least a bad Yooper.

(And, if truth be told, I'm fine with it. I KNOW I'm not a “real” Yooper. I'm more of an “Urban Yooper”, which I hope isn't too much of an oxymoron).

Anyway, this “Urban Yooper” did something over the weekend that would make all “real” Yoopers proud. I needed a pair of tan shorts. Since I'm still trying to spend as much money as possible at locally owned stores, to make sure that the community in which I live continues to thrive, I walked down to Getz's. There, I found a pair of shorts that worked perfectly—the size was good, the pockets were good, and the look was good. There was just one thing about the shorts that was unique to me, despite the fact that I've been around a bit.

The shorts were from Carhartt. For the first time in my life I bought a piece of clothing from the line that “real” Yoopers call their own. NOW can I be considered a “real” Yooper?

8-)

Don't worry. I'm not going to take up hunting or 4-wheeling or ragging on “city boys”. I just bought a pair of shorts, and they just happened to be from a company that also makes rugged jackets, work clothes, and and whatever else “real” Yoopers wear. Who knew, right? So now, I can proudly say “I own a piece of Carhartt”, even if it is just a pair of shorts.

In what's probably another sign that I'm not a “real” Yooper I'm wondering how I'll feel the first time I wear them and the Carhartt logo sticks out. After all, I've never worn a piece of their clothing before. Does one act differently? Is there some kind of secret look or handshake I have to give other people wearing their Carhartt? Do I have to stop outside of Getz's every time I pass and ponder my place in the universe?

I just want to make sure I'm doing this right.

So, as the weather gets warmer, if you happen to see me around wearing a pair of tan shorts, you'll know I've stepped out in my first piece of Carhartt. Based on my previous purchases, it might be my last, but at least I do have something from that iconic, Yooper-loved label.

Even if I'm just an “Urban” Yooper.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 4/19

 I wish I could say I'm surprised. But, sadly, I can't.

I'm in the process of reading a book called “Head in the Cloud” by William Poundstone. In it,.the author writes about whether or not it's important to know stuff in the age of Google. If you can look it up on the Internet, why should you have to know it? It's an interesting book; as someone who seems to have a lot of random knowledge stuck in my head I never thought that one might not need to learn every trivial fact that you come across, but apparently that's not the case.

Especially for about a third of the country.

As part of his research for the book Poundstone did surveys about how much Americans know and how they get that knowledge. He (and I, when I read it) was shocked to find out that about a third of the people in the United States have absolutely no interest in learning stuff. They have no interest in furthering their education, and they have no interest in acquiring new knowledge, especially (and this is what blew my mind) if it goes against the pre-conceived notions they already carry around.

So if you ever wondered why there are still people who believe the Earth is flat, and refuse to accept any and all evidence that it's not...well, that's why.

I wish I could say I'm shocked by that fact, but I'm not. I just can't believe that there are people out there who don't wanna learn anything new, especially if it changes their mind or their outlook on a matter. One of the great joys of my life is learning something new; in fact, that's why I'm read books like “Head in the Cloud”. I can't imagine not having a desire to learn anything new. How can you grow as a person that way? Why would you want to be stuck in 1996, or whatever year you finished your formal education? The world is constantly changing; how can you expect to keep up if you're not learning about what's going on?

I just don't get it.

I mean, sure; people who don't wanna learn anything new can look up whatever they need to know on Google. But you have to know WHERE to tell Google to look. You have to know what you're looking for in the first place. And if you're convinced you don't need to know anything new (or you don't want to learn anything new), pretty soon you may not even possess the critical thinking skills that allow you to know where to look, or for what you need to look.

(As an example--one of the many facts I gleamed from reading the book and learning about the self-imposed ignorance of Americans? Nine percent of the people who live in the United States don't know what country New Mexico is in, nor do they know how to look at a map to find it.

Sigh...)

To me, at least, learning isn't something that ends when schooling ends. Learning is something you do all your life. It's one of the ways that you make yourself a better person and a better citizen. Not wanting to learn? That's just...

Well, I don't know what it is. I just wish more that 68 percent of Americans agreed with me.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 4/16

 I have two pictures to show you. And while the first might be more important in the long run--

The second may be bigger news in the next few weeks.

First of all, I survived my second shot with few side effects, at least so far. As happened with my first shot, I have an incredibly sore left arm. And it seems like I have slight fever.  Hopefully, that will once again be the extent of the side effects. However, if I pass out and/or start speaking Klingon on the air today, you'll know that the side effects just took a while to kick in.

It's a small price to pay for safety, though.

Now, on to the second picture. As I've been saying (almost non-stop) for the past few months, we've had a really mild winter up here. Really, really mild. Just how mild, you ask? Well, this picture may provide the answer--

The buds on my favorite lilac tree have started to pop. That's how mild the winter has been. They're almost a month ahead of schedule this year. In fact, they may be in a race, and here's the deal about that race—my parents are coming home from Florida for Mother's Day weekend. What shows up first—my parents or the lilacs? That's something I've never had to wonder before.

And THAT'S just how mild of a winter (and spring) we've had this year.

Chew on that, and have yourself a great weekend, to boot!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 4/15

Because I have a big morning this morning—a dentist's appointment, and my second Moderna shot (!!), I'm going to leave you with something from, I think, 2017. But it's highly appropriate for today. Or, at least, what today used to be. And maybe it has a little extra something for all of our new Russian readers.

Back tomorrow with clean teeth, something new, and, hopefully, no side effects!

(jim@wmqt.com)

*****

You know, at least the spammers could put a little effort into it.

I don't know about you, but I've seen a marked increase in the amount of spam reaching my e-mail inbox the past month or so. It's actually getting to the point where I have to spend five minutes a day weeding out everything from offers for magazines I've never heard of to promises that I can make “(my) partner scream for hours”, which is something Loraine already does, at least when it comes to reading some of the subject lines in the spam that she herself gets.

I never actually open any of the spam I get; I just click “delete” and it's all gone. But someone, somewhere, must click on the spam and then actually reply to it. I mean, all it takes is for one sucker to justify sending out 10 zillion pieces of junk, right? However, I received one piece yesterday that made me laugh, and I had to open it, if only because it seems like whoever put it together wasn't even trying.

Now, I know almost all spam comes from a country other than the U.S. But it seems to me that the more savvy spammers make it sound like they know what they're talking about. After all, they're trying to reel in a sucker or two, and it's usually easier to do that when you look and sound like you know what you're talking about. Not the e-mail I received yesterday, though. First of all, it came from a company that called itself “Tax Releif” (spelled that way), and had as its subject line this--

“Taxes is our business”.

Like I said, I don't expect much out of spam (aside from the occasional laugh) but anyone in their right mind would know that, based on spelling and grammatical errors, this ISN'T a company that's legit. However, the errors were so egregious that I just had to see from where the e-mail came. So I opened the e-mail, which promised to get me “maximun (sic) savings on my taxes” sent directly to my bank account. And all I'd have to do is sent my Social Security and bank account numbers (nothing else) to a website that ends with a “.ru”. What does that all mean? Well, it means two things—that someone promised to do my taxes without needing to see any W2 forms.

And that “.ru” means the company is located in Russia.

Needless to say, I don't think I'll be having that particular company do my taxes this year. And I would hope that no one—absolutely no one--would get suckered in by such a low-rent, low-quality, obvious sham of a scam. But then that's the thing about spammers and scammers—it only takes one. Like I said before, it doesn't cost anything (aside from server time, which is usually pirated) to send out ten zillion e-mails, and if even ONE person decides that sending their Social Security and bank account numbers to a Russian company will give them a little “tax releif”, then they've succeeded without even putting much effort into it.

I know you're all smart and that you'd never fall for anything promised by spam, but just let me say this—if you ever DO fall for a spam scam, at least make sure you fall for one where everything's spelled right, okay?

Thanks.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday 4/14

 If you're curious (and I know you're probably not) I have four new shirts in my closet. And go ahead—ask me why. I dare you.

Well, seeing as how you asked, I'll give you the answer. I have four new shirts in my closet because I have a bony left elbow. Bet you weren't expecting THAT answer, were you?

8-)

No, seriously. I had to go out and get four new shirts this past weekend because I have four old shirts with holes in the left elbow, and only the left elbow. The right elbows on all the shirts are fine. Everything else about the shirts are fine. But each and every one of them has a hole—a big hole—in the left elbow.

I guess I'm just lucky that way. Or I'm a freak that way. You choose.

Now, I'm not totally surprised. I'm a very bony person, not just in the elbows but in the knees and ankles and just about any other joint that sticks out of my body. So I could see why I might have a shirt or another piece of clothing develop a hole somewhere in it. But four shirts? And just in the left elbow and no other place?

Even I'm shaking my head in disbelief at that particular superpower. The upside, though, is that if I ever need to get a new job, I have at least one unique skill to stick on my resume.

Because that's something employers would be looking for, right?

So if you ever have a shirt with the right elbow worn through, and you want to even it out, send it my way. I might actually be able to put that unique skill to good use.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 4/13

 I hope I make it out of the week in one piece.

This is Restaurant Week in Marquette, a week when independent restaurants in downtown Marquette offer all kinds of specials to showcase the amazing work they do. Since restaurants have been among the hardest hit of businesses during the pandemic I figured I would do my bit and perhaps, just perhaps, see if I could get something from one restaurant each of the seven days of the promotion.

I'm just hoping I don't explode from the massive amount of great food on offer.

I've already tried two poutine dishes—a Fried Chicken Dinner poutine from Stuckos, and a Cuban poutine from the Delft. Speaking of Cubans, the Bodega has their take on one of my favorite sandwiches, so that's on the list. So is the Pho at Zephyr, the tempura salmon fingers at Elizabeth's, and the crepes at Contrast.

Top it off with a dish from one more place, and there's my week. I also figure that if I eat nothing but fruits and vegetables other than those dishes, I should only gain five or six pounds by the time the whole thing is done.

But I'm helping local businesses, right?

8-)

It's funny, because, technically, I'm not doing much different than I usually do. Oh, I don't get take out or eat in every day of the week, but I DO avail myself of the establishments I mentioned (plus many more). We're really lucky in that regard. Marquette is a place for great food, and a lot of it. For instance, within a one block radius of where I work there's a Mexican restaurant, three bistros, a fine dining place, two pubs, a sports bar, a deli, a Cajun restaurant, an Irish restaurant, a Hawaiian restaurant, and a German restaurant.

And that's just within a one block radius.

So, I guess you can see why I'm tempted by all the special dishes on offer this week. I actually don't know if I'll get through all of the ones I'd like, but I'll do my best. And, if I can't myself, I'll make sure as many people know what's going on as I can.

For all these cool places, it's the least I can do.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 4/12

 Geez. I hope I'm not being hacked by the Russians!

Over the past week or so I've noticed an uptick in readers of these ramblings. In fact, on a few days last week, I got almost twice as many readers as usual, which was a bit strange, because I wrote about things like hams and the first warm day of the year and seagulls becoming my co-workers, which aren't exactly click bait in the larger world.

Curious, I checked out the statistics portion of the site on which I post these and noticed something strange. Those extra readers from last week, the ones that almost doubled the number of people checking this out?

Almost to a person, they came from Russia.

In fact, one day last week I had more people from Russia check out this blog than from the U.S. and France combined, and those two countries usually make up 99.5% of the readers. I have no idea how (or why) so many hits were from Russia. I have no idea if they were Russian bots or Russian spiders. I have no idea if Vladimir Putin was bored one night. I have no idea if a Russian English-language class picked this blog to read (although if they did it was probably to see how NOT to write).

I just don't know.

Part of me wonders if Russia 's just practicing and refining techniques they might use in an attempt to meddle once again in the 2022 elections. Although, if that were the case, I have no idea what they would gain by reading my insights the Marquette Board of Light & Power lighting up a Christmas tree before tearing down a power plant. Maybe they have some kind of bot that goes through blogs and try to find content that they can leave trolling comments on. But, if THAT were the case, they'd find that with very few exceptions I try to stay away from politics and therefore they'd have very few instances in which they could leave fake comments.

I just don't know.

I will be curious to see if this continues, or if this was a one-shot thing. I'd be curious to know if this was indeed part of ramp-up to try & influence the election, or if was just part of a survey of the internet. And I'd also be curious to see if this WAS a language class learn how not to write, because if that were the case, I can point you to a lot of garbled syntax that lies within these walls.

Trust me on that.

I'll keep you updated as I find out more!

Das vidaniya,

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 4/9

 The ham is finally gone. Thanks for asking.

Like many people for Easter, I baked a ham. It actually wasn't a whole ham; just one of those chunks that weighed three pounds. I slathered it with a brown sugar & honey glaze, and it made for quite the nice main course for our second pandemic Easter feast.

Little did we know that four days later, Loraine & I would still be eating it.

Seriously—that hunk of ham must have had some kind of self-replicating feature to it, because no matter how much of it we ate there seemed to be more that we needed to consume. I have no idea how that happened. We started with a three pound hunk of it, ate a large portion on Sunday, had leftovers on Monday, threw more of it into a salad Tuesday, used some of it for omelets Wednesday, and then finally finished it off last night when Loraine threw in the towel and tasked me with eating the last piece.

That's five days of consumption for a three-pound hunk of pig. Short of self-replication, how exactly does that happen?

Now, don't get me wrong. I like ham, and it really doesn't seem to be Easter or any other holiday without it. I don't mind eating it at all. I don't even really mind having to eat it for five days in a row. I just want to know the how & why we had to eat it five days in a row. It was a three pound hunk. How can it last five days? It's not like we cut off a little slice, had one bite, and called it quits for the day. Nope; we attacked the ham (pardon the pun) whole hog. We ate big chunks of it eat and every day.

And yet, it still took us five days to finish it.

I'm guessing we won't be eating any more ham any time soon; I think we're both looking forward to a ham-free meal or three. But the next time we do, I'll be curious to see if we can get through it like a normal couple does, or if we've picked up another one of those magical self-replicating hams.

Just like the one we finished last night.

Have yourself a great (and ham-free) weekend!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 4/8

 I have a new co-worker! I'm no longer toiling alone! Now, they just need to pick up after themselves--

Sorry; I'm guessing most people don't like seeing seagull poop first thing in the morning (or whenever you're reading this). But my new co-worker, a seagull, has, thanks to a missing panel, taken up residence in the awning right outside the station--

Like I said. At least I'm not working by myself any more.

I don't know if it's the year-plus of working without company or just the fact that I'm desperate for something, anything new in my life, but I've been watching with curiosity as the seagull has been making itself at home. For the past few days it continually flies out of the awning and into the church courtyard across the street, where it picks up a small branch or twig from the many bushes there, and then flies it back into the awning.

While watching it yesterday (don't worry; I was doing other work, too) I counted it making the trip almost forty times. I wish I had that dedication to whatever it was I was doing. I mean, it's obvious the seagull is not a dumb creature; it obviously knows what it's doing and the best way to do it. And I wouldn't mind sharing my office with someone like that.

Except, of course, for the whole poop thing.

Now, I'm kind of wondering what the seagull will do when someone comes and seals off the awning. Will it try to peck its way through the new panel to get back to its home? Will it just give up and start anew somewhere else? Will it stand out on the sidewalk, staring through the window at me until I let it back in?

Good questions all. And, actually, I'm kind of looking forward to seeing which one is the correct answer. After all, if even for a few days, it was nice to have someone to work with.

Even if it was a bird who poops everywhere.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 4/7

 I really like the idea.

Marquette is in the midst of a de-construction boom, as least as far as power plants go. Two old coal-fired plants are being torn down, having already been replaced by natural gas & solar facilities. The good news is that we won't be contributing to climate change as much. The bad news is that the Christmas tree won't be lit up any more.

But at least we get to see it one more time this weekend.

Here's what's going on, with an explanation for those of you who don't live in Marquette. There's a big power plant on Marquette's South Beach, so big that you can see it for a couple of miles while driving into Marquette from that direction. Every holiday season they'd put up a 40 or 50 foot outline of a Christmas tree and light it up, and you could see the tree all the way across the bay in Harvey. However, the power plant is scheduled to be torn down in the next few months, which means that this will be the first Christmas without the tree.

Because of this, the Board of Light & Power is firing up the tree one last time this weekend, for people to take pictures or just glance at it once more. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights the tree outline will be fully lit, and if I had to guess your social media feeds will be filled with pictures and people enjoying the site for the final time before the whole building comes down.

It's Christmas in April, except for the gifts, the snow, Santa, and any squabbling relatives you only see that one day of the year.

I don't know whose I idea this was, but it is genius. While I don't think anyone cares that the plant itself is coming down, I have heard people who were bummed that they won't be able to see the tree any more. When you think of it, this is (almost) the best of both worlds. We get to see the tree one last time (and in fairly comfortable temperatures, to boot) and then we get to get rid of an eyesore on Marquette's lake shore.

It really is a win-win.

So grab your cameras, your phones, your kids, and any mistletoe you can scrounge up, and drive, bike, or walk down there this weekend. It's the end of an era.

But what a way for the tree to go out!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 4/6

 I'll be the first to admit—I had a little trouble concentrating yesterday.

It wasn't because it was Monday. It wasn't because of a chocolate Easter bunny hangover. It wasn't even because it was First Contact Day. Nope; I had trouble concentrating for the same reason I'm guessing several people around here may have had trouble concentrating--

It was sunny & 73 degrees outside.

If I had known it was going to be that nice outside, I definitely would have taken the day off to go play outside. Unfortunately, I didn't, which means that every time I heard a weather forecast on the air or looked outside a window all I could think about was the sun and the heat and how I wasn't out in it.

Thankfully, I work in radio and not in something important, like brain surgery. I'd hate to think what I would've been like yesterday if I was a brain surgeon.

In all honesty, I'm probably like this every year when it hits 70 for the first time. And, in all honesty, I probably shouldn't have been, at least this year., As I've written about (probably too much) in here, we've had a very mild winter. It was 60 degrees on days when it had no businesses being 60 degrees. So it's not like I've gone stir-crazy or haven't seen nice weather for five or six months. I have.

Why yesterday was different, at least in my little pea brain, I have no idea.

And it's not like yesterday was the only 70 degree day we'll be having for the foreseeable future. There will be plenty of them, many nicer than what we just went through (and, if this was the only 70 degree day of the year; well, that's a MUCH bigger problem than my lack of concentration). So I don't know why I acted the way I did. There was just something calling to me, I guess, a beckoning of better days to come.

And I guess I was just a little bummed that I couldn't answer it.

No worries; like I said, I'm sure there will be many other days when I'll know ahead of time that I really shouldn't be at work. That way, if I do need to concentrate, it'll just be concentrating on grains of sand under my foot as I'm walking along the beach.

Because that's the best kind of concentrating you can do. Especially when it's sunny & 73 degrees.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 4/5

 Really? I need to tell the story yet again?

One day last week (Tuesday, maybe?) I wrote a blog about how I don't like black jellybeans, and happened to mention in it how, even though they're horrid (and they ARE), at least they don't make me throw up like bananas do. And that prompted a few of you to ask about WHY bananas make me throw up. Even though I've told the story before, I guess it has been awhile, so here's the deal for everyone who's just started reading these--

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

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

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

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

That's the banana story. And that's just one of the ways in which I was a special child, and yet, my Mom still seems to like me. So with that in mind, let’s all collectively wish my mom a happy birthday today. After everything that she’s been put through (and that's just from me; that's not even mentioning my sister and brother), I have a feeling she deserves it.

Happy birthday, Mom!!!

Love,

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 4/2

 You knew it was Hungarian, didn't you?

I did indeed resurrect the old habit of writing a blog and then posting in a strange language yesterday for April Fools Day, and having read several books on strange languages the past few years figured Hungarian would work just fine. For some reason, it's not really related to any other European language (except Finnish, for some bizarre reason) and so there are few recognizable words for someone who speaks a Germanic language (like English) or a Romance language (like Spanish or French) to recognize.

Here's what I wrote yesterday, in English--

*****

And happy April Fools’ Day!

I’m not actually going to write much here, but I figured I SHOULD write a little something in case somebody figures out that I posted this entry in Hungarian and is able to either translate it themselves or, like me, to find a web program to do it for you.

I mean, you didn’t think that I actually know Hungarian, do you?

The funny thing is, I was actually going to post this blog in one of the, oh, 3 millions languages that C-3PO claims to speak in “Star Wars” because, believe it or not, I read a few weeks ago that there are more “Star Wars” language translators on the web than for any other language. Unfortunately, I didn't seem to find any of them. Or at least any of them that worked.

Who knew? You actually can't believe everything on the Internet.

So, instead of posting this in an off-planet language, I figure I’d post this in one of the strangest language I’ve ever come across. And trust me--this IS one of the strangest languages you’ll ever come across.

Now, here’s the Easter Egg in today’s entry. Click on this link--

https://en.eprevodilac.com/prevodilac-madjarski-engleski

And it takes you to a site where you can translate the blog, and read what I wrote.

Good luck!

(jim@wmqt.com)

*****

Then I ran it through the online translator at that link, and posted it. Now, the fun part of all this is taking the Hungarian translation, and seeing how it converts back to English. Wanna see?

*****

And Happy April Fools Day!

I’m not really going to write much here, but I thought I MUST write a little if someone guesses that I posted this post in Hungarian and can either translate it myself or, like me, find a web program to do it for you.

I mean, you didn't think I actually knew Hungarian, did you?

The funny thing is, I actually wanted to publish this blog in one of the 3 million languages ​​that the C-3PO is supposed to speak in “Star Wars,” because believe it or not, I read a few weeks ago that there were more “Star Wars” out there. language translator on the Internet as for any other language. Unfortunately, I didn't seem to find any of them. Or at least either worked.

Who knew? You don’t really believe everything on the internet.

T so instead of posting this in an off-planet language, I think I would post it in one of the strangest languages ​​I’ve ever encountered. And believe me - it’s one of the weirdest languages ​​you’ll ever come across. Now here’s the Easter egg in today’s post. Click this link -

https://en.eprevodilac.com/prevodilac-madjarski-engleski

And you get to a site where you can translate the blog and read what I wrote. Good luck!\

(jim@wmqt.com)

*****

And I have to say I'm kind of surprised. That's actually a pretty good re-translation, much better than some of the ones I tried a decade or so ago. So, if I do this again next year, I'll have to find an even stranger language than Hungarian and see how it translates back.

Hmmm...perhaps Tagalog? We'll have to see.

Have yourself a great Easter weekend. Don't eat too much chocolate, and watch out for those black jellybeans!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 4/1

 És boldog április bolondok napját!

Valójában nem fogok sokat írni ide, de arra gondoltam, hogy KELL írnom egy kicsit, ha valaki kitalálja, hogy ezt a bejegyzést magyarul tettem fel, és képes vagy maga lefordítani, vagy, mint én, találni egy webprogramot hogy megtegyem helyetted.

Úgy értem, nem gondoltad, hogy valójában tudok magyarul, igaz?

Az a vicces, hogy valójában ezt a blogot akartam közzétenni azon ó, 3 millió nyelv egyikén, amelyen a C-3PO állítólag a „Csillagok háborújában” beszél, mert ha hiszed, ha nem, néhány hete olvastam, hogy ott több „Star Wars” nyelvű fordító az interneten, mint bármely más nyelv esetében. Sajnos úgy tűnt, hogy egyiket sem találtam. Vagy legalábbis bármelyik működött.

Aki tudta? Valójában nem hiszel el mindent az interneten.

Tehát ahelyett, hogy ezt egy bolygón kívüli nyelven tenném közzé, úgy gondolom, hogy ezt az egyik legfurcsább nyelven tenném közzé, amivel valaha találkoztam. És hidd el - ez az egyik legfurcsább nyelv, amellyel valaha találkozhatsz. Most itt van a húsvéti tojás a mai bejegyzésben.

Kattintson erre a linkre -

https://en.eprevodilac.com/prevodilac-madjarski-engleski

És eljut egy webhelyre, ahol lefordíthatja a blogot, és elolvashatja, amit írtam. Sok szerencsét!\

(jim@wmqt.com)