Wednesday, 6/30

Will we stay or will we go? I have no idea. But as of right now (830-ish am) the sun is out and there's nary a drop of rain in the forecast, so I'm planning on doing a tour tonight.

We'll see how THAT turns out, right?

So because I'm trying to figure things out, as promised—the 20-minute newspaper article. I'll let you know if we actually toured tonight tomorrow!

(jim@wmqt.com)

****

In one way, Marquette joined the 20^th century ninety years ago this week.

The 1920s were a dizzying time for changes in both technology and entertainment. Leading the vanguard of that change was the development of radio. The first commercial station went on the air in 1920, and as the decade wore on stations across the country were networked together by such chains as the National Broadcasting Company and the Columbia Broadcasting System. Large cities were the first to have their own stations, but by 1929 radio had come to the UP when a company in Houghton was granted a license.

A little over a tear later, during the height of the Great Depression, Marquette's Daily Mining Journal organized a company and filed a petition to be granted a license for a station in Marquette, to be called WBEO. It was common for radio stations to be owned by local newspapers back then; they had the resources (both financial and talent-wise) needed to keep a start-up station on the air. They started building the studios on the upper floor of the Mining Journal building in mid May of 1931, and started testing the transmitter and equipment a few weeks later. Even though the testing was done overnight, eager area listeners stayed up and turned on their radios in hopes of hearing something local.

Finally, on July 2nd, 1931, WBEO signed on the air.

The first day of broadcast was full of fanfare, with a live orchestra broadcasting from the Delft Theater across the street from the station's studios, speeches from civic leaders, and performances from local talent. In the early days, that local talent was the key to the station's success (as well as the reason it was only broadcasting several hours a day). Because it wasn't hooked up to one of the major networks, the station had to supply every single second of programming it aired, from news to entertainment. Aside from performances by the station's own house orchestra, recipes shows and dramatic readings were popular, as shows featuring local singers.

One of those local singers was downtown Marquette legend Phil Niemisto, who used to perform with a choir consisting of kids who were growing up in the Holy Name Orphanage. Phil, who later kept up the flowers in the downtown Pocket Park, which occupied the location of the old Mining Journal offices and WBEO studios, liked to joke that he “started his life in this lot” and was “going to finish it there, too”.

Phil was just one of hundreds of Marquette residents who found themselves on the radio, if even just once. In fact, the station was so persistent in trying to get local talent on the air that high school kids of the early and mid 1930s dubbed WBEO “We Bother Every One”. That changed in the latter part of the decade when the station affiliated with the Mutual Broadcasting System, meaning it became home to such legendary radio shows as “The Lone Ranger” and “The Shadow”. It also changed its call letters to WDMJ, to reflect its ownership by the (as it was called then) Daily Mining Journal.

WDMJ had the local radio market to itself until following World War II, when WJPD-AM signed on in Ishpeming. In the 1950s and 60s, as the AM band became filled with stations across the country, FM radio was developed on a commercial basis. With a higher signal quality and no night-time “skip” (meaning that local stations like WDMJ had to reduce their power after dark, lest they interfere with bigger station) existing stations started to sign on FM counterparts. WDMJ was no exception, launching WDMJ-FM, the area's first commercial FM station, in 1966.

Shortly after that time, though, the Mining Journal had decided to get out of the broadcasting business, and sold the stations. After a few years, new owners spun off the FM station, eventually selling it to a religious group that still operates it as WHWL. WDMJ-AM, though, continued programming music and local news through the 1980s, when the growing number of FM stations in the market (with their music-friendly signal) caused the station to switch to an all-talk format, which it has kept since. A fire that destroyed its transmitter tower a few years ago drastically reduced its coverage area, as well.

However, in a time when radio listeners have more choices (and more ways to listen) than ever, WDMJ is still of one just two AM stations broadcasting from Marquette County, carrying on a legacy that began 90 years ago this week.

Tuesday, 6/29

 I think I might have just broken my own record.

As I'm still waiting to see if I'll be giving a pop-up tour tomorrow night (see yesterday's entry if you're not quite sure to what I'm referring) I took care of another Marquette Regional History Center task that was due, and I do believe I did it faster than anything else I've done for them.

But then when it's writing a newspaper article about the history of radio in Marquette, you'd kind of expect me to be able to whip it out quickly, right?

It'll actually be in the Mining Journal tomorrow, so that's when I'll post it here, as well, for those of you not in the area or those of you who don't do the newspaper thing any more. And it's not an article that's self-serving or about the station where I work. In fact, the station where I work isn't mentioned in it at all. It's about the anniversary of the FIRST station in Marquette. I actually volunteered to write the article, and I've been running ideas for it through my mind since the beginning of the year.

That was probably a good thing, too, as I received a note saying they needed it right away. And that's probably the big reason why I was able to give it to them 20 minutes later.

Yup; it took me 20 minutes (actually, a little less) to give them a fully formed newspaper article. It's about twice the length of one of these, and seeing as how it often takes me more than 20 minutes to bang one of these out, I'm kind of surprised that I did it. But like I said, I've been running it in and out of my mind on occasion since I volunteered to write it in January, so I just had to get all those ideas out through my keyboard.

In fact, it took me almost as long to correct the typos as it did to write the article, but what did you expect, right?

8-)

Like I said, I'll post it tomorrow, when it's also in the Mining Journal. And who knows—by then, I might even know if I'm doing a tour or not. Like I mentioned yesterday, that decision isn't up to me.

That's one's up to Mother Nature.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 6/28

Yes? No? Maybe?

I've explained in here one of the things I want to do this summer; namely, giving little “pop-up” tours for the History Center. The concept behind them is easy; if I have a free evening and notice the weather's going to be nice I put out the word that, say, the next evening I'll be strolling around Lower Harbor and talking about the history of the docks. Anyone who wants to join us can.

Sound simple and kind of sweet, right? Well, would you mind letting Mother Nature in on the secret?

Ever since I came up with the idea, on every single night when I had some free time the weather didn't cooperate. Rain was in the forecast every single time, although most of the evenings it DIDN'T rain. However, the whole idea was to put out the word about a tour and not have to worry about the weather.

Because worrying about the weather kind of, you know, defeats the purpose of it.

I mention this because as of this weekend I was kind of thinking about doing one this upcoming Wednesday night. I have the evening free, and up until last night the forecast called for mostly sunny skies. However, Mother Nature must've gotten word about our plans, because now it says there's a 40% chance of rain after 4 pm. And since (checking here) the planned 630 pm start time is a little after 430, there's a 40% chance of rain during tour time.

That's not gonna work.

I still have a little time to make the call. Technically, under the rules I set up, I don't even need to make a decision about it until tomorrow morning. And maybe things will clear up by then. I certainly hope so. But the way the weather's been cooperating with this plan so far, I'm not holding out too much hope. Of course, the forecast is almost perfect for Thursday evening, another night I'm free, but that's when the History Center's doing their cemetery tour, postponed last week because of (you guessed it) rain. But Wednesday?

Not so much.

So, if you would, keep your fingers crossed that the forecast changes and by tomorrow morning at the latest we can get this thing scheduled. If not, because of the upcoming holiday & stuff, it might be a while before we can get one going again.

We'll just have to wait & see...

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 6/25

 I wonder just how insane the Fourth of July weekend will be?

At work I get a direct look at how the tourism industry is doing in the city. Being just a block down the hill from one of Marquette's biggest hotels I always see a stream of visitors making their way into downtown and to the lake. And, if I had to guess, that guess would that next weekend—the Fourth—will be insane.

Absolutely insane.

Now, this is not based on any scientific evidence other than my own observations. But the amount of people I have seen exploring my particular part of downtown, a part filled more with offices than shops, has been, at least in the past few days, staggering. I don't think I've ever seen more people on the sidewalks aside from, say, a big weekend like the Fourth.

And we're still a week away from that.

I know people haven't been able to travel in the past year and there's all this pent-up demand (and money) waiting to get used. Add to that the fact that the sidewalks are already at a Fourth-level of traffic, and I just have a feeling where this is going. So don't be surprised if, in the next 10 or 12 days, you have a little trouble getting around, getting a table, or just getting some unwanted attention.

People have travel steam to release, and we'll be the release valve for a lot of them.

We're actually adding to that travel steam, as two of Loraine's nephews are coming up for the Fourth. They were up a couple of years ago, back when you could still travel, and they've been looking forward to seeing what a holiday weekend up here is like.

Hopefully, they won't be overwhelmed by the whole thing.

So don't be surprised by anything you see in the next week or so. Remember that it's all good—for our economy, for the minds of people visiting, and for this weird reputation we're developing as one of the best places in the country to visit.

No matter how insane it gets.

Have a great weekend, and be happy—Washington Street in downtown Marquette is finally open again!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 6/24

 Who knew so many people liked the song?

Loraine and I were at lunch at a local establishment recently, enjoying our food and taking in the selection of late 60s/early 70s music being played. Most of it was forgettable and/or cheesy, and it was just treated as background noise by the people in the restaurant. However, when one song came on, people stopped talking and started listening. A few even started singing or humming along.

It was cool.

It was kind of amazing, too, because I didn't think many people remembered the song. I sure do; in fact, it's one of “Jim's Top Five Songs Ever Recorded (tm)”, a song that I have loved since I was a kid. In fact, it's one of those songs like, “September” or “Superstition”, that I can listen to over & over & over again. It's also perhaps the best example of one of my favorite kinds of music, Philly Soul. It was written and produced by a master, and even 45-some years after it was recorded it can still cause an entire restaurant of people tapping their toes and humming along.

That song? “I'll Be Around” by The Spinners.

Like I said, I was flabbergasted when people sitting around us started humming the song, and one of the workers at the place even started singing along. I mean, it's not a song you hear a lot these days. It's not a song that's filled with power or deep meaning. But maybe that's the key to it. It's a simple song; three chords, strings and horns, and amazing vocals. When you have someone like the immortal Thom Bell sticking all of those those together, you end up with three minutes and thirty seconds of musical magic.

Musical magic that, apparently, still shines through four and a half decades after it was originally released.

I'm sure that everyone who was humming or singing along with the song didn't give it a second thought. Heck, they might not even have realized that they were even doing it. But that just goes to show the power of the song. I'm sure those people aren't like some dorks and consider it one of the five greatest tunes ever recorded. The people humming and singing along just know that they like it.

And that's all that matters.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 6/23

 I honestly thought there would have been a bigger “kaboom”.

Yesterday was the day the remaining Covid restrictions were lifted in Michigan. Fifteen months after all this insanity started masks are no longer required, social distancing rules are tossed, and restaurants & bars can open again to full capacity. You'd think that a return to “normal” would've been cause for celebration, but you know what I noticed about it yesterday?

Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

In all honesty, I don't know what I was expecting. I knew we weren't going to get a V-E day style celebration with people dancing & kissing in the streets. But I also didn't think things would be like they were Monday or any of the 400+ days before that. For instance, I got up, went to work, didn't see or talk to anyone until I left work, went home, spent time with Loraine, and eventually went to bed.

In other words, the exact same thing I've been doing for 15 months.

Don't get me wrong; I am INSANELY glad this day has finally arrived. It's the reason I wore a mask and socially distanced and got stuck in the arm twice. It's something to which I've looked forward since March of last year. I just figured that when this day did finally arrive there would be...I dunno, fireworks or shouting from the rooftops or something. I don't know why I thought that; obviously, what I thought was wrong. But with the way people have complained and criticized their way through the pandemic I just thought there would have been something, anything, as a celebration.

Oh well.

Maybe it's a good thing, though. Maybe this means we're sliding into “normalcy” like it was an old glove. Maybe we're just so glad the whole thing is over that we don't need to celebrate publicly. Maybe our celebration is just going back to doing what we did the way we used to do it, and that's enough.

I'm okay with that. I'm kind of surprised there weren't fireworks, but I'm okay with that.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 6/22

 Really? They think Marquette is THAT cold?

As I mentioned yesterday, the first day of summer here was anything but—rainy and 45 in the morning, and then clear and (uhm) 52 in the afternoon. It wasn't the best first day of summer ever, but you know what? It wasn't snowing. So we have that going for us.

8-)

Anyway, as I was working yesterday I noticed tourists wandering up & down Front Street, a common site any day during summer. Only, I noticed that a large majority of the tourists wandering up & down the street were wearing winter jackets, hats, and, in some cases, gloves. And that made me think two things, the first being that I'm glad they were able to stay warm.

The second? Just how cold do they think Marquette IS if they felt the need to bring winter gear with them on a summer vacation? I mean sure, yesterday actually proved their point, but just how cold do they think Marquette is during the summer? So cold that you have to bring winter clothing with you in June?

I mean...what the what??

Two weeks yesterday ago it was 95 degrees. Last Thursday it was 91. It's not like it doesn't get really warm here during the summer. It obviously does. But what kind of a reputation must a place have if people feel the need to bring winter gear to visit at the end of June? Do they actually think it's rainy and 45 every day of the summer here? Yesterday was (I hope) a fluke. It might have been the one day in the past five summers where winter gear could've been useful. But these people obviously brought it as a matter of course, like they expected to use it. I mean, it';s not a tropical paradise here, but it isn't Siberia, either.

Well, excepting yesterday, of course.

Now, these visitors to our fair city will go home with a story to tell—about how they had to wear winter clothing on the first day of summer. It's a great story, and I hope they tell it to full effect. However, those stories will only perpetuate the myth that you'll need winter clothing when you visit Marquette in the summer. So don't be surprised if, in the near future, you see all kinds of people walking around with a winter coat on a summer's day.

It's all the fault of days like yesterday.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 6/21

 Great. Now it's all downhill from here.

That's not normally the way I would greet the first day of astronomical summer, my favorite time of the year, but in one small aspect it's true. Yesterday was the longest day of the year (here in Marquette almost 17 hours of daylight). Starting today the days get shorter.

We're already on the glide path to winter and it's not even the end of June yet.

I'm kidding, of course. I mean, not about the fact that the days start getting shorter today, because that actually is true. But what I am kidding about is the fact that winter is on the way. Sure, it's only 45 degrees and raining today (!), but that can be par for the course, even for this time of the year. Because of things like Lake Superior and the fact that we're so danged north some people don't even think that “summer” starts until July 1^st. Yes, meteorological summer starts June 1^st and astronomical summer starts today, but there are many Yoopers who don't believe summer starts until July 1^st.

I live among a strange group of people, in case you haven't figured that out yet.

But no matter when you think summer starts (for the record, it's June 1^st, and that's the only correct answer) the reason that we get so worked up about it and the start date for it is that it's fleeting. In many places of the US you get nice weather five to eight months of the year. Here we get two solid months—three in a lucky year—and it's that short length that makes us so passionate about it. We can disagree over when it starts; the one thing we can't argue about is how ding-dang short it is.

So that's why even a stupid fact like the days getting shorter cause us to joke about the oncoming rush of winter. We know it's coming, and we know it'll be coming sooner than most of us wish. Now, it's just up to us to make the most we can out of summer, now that it's here.

Because we all know it won't be here for long.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 6/18

I'm either getting old or I really, really must like cows. I'm certainly hoping it's the latter. If not, I'm in a LOT of trouble.

After I posted yesterday's newspaper picture of cows on a French beach, I received notes from a bunch of people, most of whom agreed that would be an ideal place for me to live. However, several people also pointed out the young woman in the picture, and (jokingly) wondered if they might also be the reason I want to move there.

And, of course, my reaction was “what young woman”?

Then I looked at the picture again. If you don't remember it, just scroll down to yesterday's entry and take a look at it. It's the picture with cows on a beach. And, now that someone pointed it down, also with a young woman standing in front of the cows, a fact that I, apparently, didn't even pay any attention to the first time I saw it.

Oops.

I'm sure that the first time I saw the picture I noticed the young woman standing there. I mean, if I didn't, there would have to be something seriously wrong with me. What I'm hoping is that I got so excited by the concept of cows on a warm beach that I just didn't even give them a second thought. I'm hoping that's it. I'm hoping that I've not gotten to the point in my life where I don't even pay attention to a young woman like that, because if that were the case...

Well, I don't even wanna think about THAT.

So yes, the cows on the beach would be a perfect reason to move to Corsica. Everything else would just be frosting on the cake. And that's all I'm gonna say about that!

8-)

Have yourself a great (and maybe even cow-filled) weekend!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 6/17

 I'm moving to Corsica and I'm never coming back.

Those of you who know me even just a little probably know two weird facts about me—I like the beach, and I like cows. I can explain the former because of the zen-like effect a beach has on me; unfortunately, I have absolutely no explanation for the latter, other than the fact that they're really fun to photograph. So even just knowing those two weird facts, it makes perfect sense why I'd want to move to a French island--

Yup. On the island of Corsica (birthplace of Napoleon, among other things) there is a group of cows that have escaped a nearby dairy farm and have taken up residence on a Mediterranean beach. First of all, let me congratulate the cows on both their escape and their excellent choice of a hiding place. Secondly, anyone know when the ferry leaves the mainland for Corsica? I kinda need to be there as soon as possible.

8-)

Actually, I'm sure the cows have been rounded up by now. The news story was several days old when I discovered it yesterday. But can you imagine the joyous rapture that would've caused my head to explode had I been on that (or any beach) at the moment the cows arrived? What would I have been happier about? The beach? The cows? Would my brain have locked up trying to process all the bits of incoming joy?

Someone might have had to hit CTRL-ALT-DEL on my brain, and THAT would've been a lot of fun.

Oh well. I guess I just wasn't lucky enough to be at the right place at the right time. That's life, or, as they'd say on Corsica, c'est la vie. I'm sure I'll be able to survive without experiencing the rapture of cows on a beach. However, as is my wont I'll be spending a lot of time at McCarty's Cove & South Beach over the next few months, and should someone be transporting cows through the area, and should that someone want to give those cows a little break to stretch their legs on a local beach...

Well, I'll give you my phone number. You know...just in case.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 6/16

 I don't know that I'd want to be a kid these days.

I don't know if you heard but we had a little kerfuffle here in downtown Marquette yesterday. A suspicious object was found atop a Fed Ex box in front of the federal building, which caused a couple of blocks to be shut down and everyone within that area evacuated. Thankfully, it just turned out to be something that fell off of a truck (as shown below by Marquette Police Captain of Detectives Greg Kinonen) and things quickly went back to normal.

As soon as I heard about I scooted down the alley behind the station to cover the event. The alley happens to open right across the street from the post office, and as I was heading toward the area of the incident I saw a mom and her two children walking the other way. I'm guessing they were among the people told to leave the area, as the mom was telling her kids “they have to evacuate places sometimes” as a way of explaining why they were rushing away from wherever they had been.

And the kids looked as if they accepted it as a fact of life.

Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised by that; after all, these days kids have grown up with everything from terrorist & bomb threats to active shooter drills to bullies in positions of power, and they've gotten used to all of these things being a part of “normal” life. And I know that kids are very resilient and adapt to things quite easily. But what does it say about our life & times that terrorist and bomb threats and active shooter drills and bullies in positions of power are considered “normal”? I always thought childhood was a care-free time of life, not a time of life when you're trying to live through the plot of a “Die Hard” movie.

Goes to show what I know.

But like I said, everything turned out fine. Hopefully, the kids got to go back home or go back to the restaurant where they were eating or the store at which they were shopping. Hopefully, they won't give the incidents of yesterday a second thought. After all, isn't it hard enough being a kid without having things like “suspicious objects” interrupting your summer morning?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 6/15

 With a warning like that, do I really want to eat them?

Loraine and I were gifted a bunch of (healthy) snack foods recently, and we've been sampling a bunch of stuff we haven't previously had the chance to try. I brought a few of them to work with me, and while munching on some (admittedly tasty) apple cinnamon rice cakes yesterday I noticed a warning on the bottom of the package--

Hmm. A kind of food that you can't heat up or stick in the microwave. Just what IS there about it that prompted the warning? And do I really wanna put something like that in my stomach?

Hmm.

I think I know why you're not supposed to heat or microwave the rice cakes. I think it has something to do with the yummy apple-cinnamon coating they have on them. I'm not a scientist, nor do I play one on TV, but I'm guessing the coating would melt when heated and thereby ruin your toaster, and I'm also guessing that it might, you know, explode when stuck in a microwave, like hardened liquids are wont to do. That's just a guess on my part. But it also prompts the question--

If it's not good for a microwave, is it good for my stomach?

I'm sure the food is healthy; it's just whole grain rice and the apple-cinnamon coating that apparently caused the warning. But just seeing the warning took aback for a second. You usually see warnings on medicines or other things that can kill people. Rice cakes? Not so much. And, of course, it leads one to wonder just HOW the warning ended up on the package. Is it a preemptive warning, insisted upon by the company's lawyers after a food engineer mentioned it? Or did someone somewhere decide to stick one of the rice cakes in a microwave and then decided to sue the company for damages after their microwave started sparking and exploding?

You know it probably had to be one of those two, right?

Anyway, I'm guessing I'll get around to finishing the bag. I ate most of it before noticing the warning with no ill effects. However, if you hear in the next few days about how I was seriously injured in a bizarre explosion while standing near a microwave or a toaster, you'll have an idea why.

It'll be because of the rice cakes.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 6/14

 It's a good thing I remembered.

As I was out running this morning I was going through the list of everything I've done in the past 72 hours. I spent chunks of two days shooting video, I took care of 10,000 (give or take 9,992) errands, and I even spent a little time with Loraine looking for our marriage license.

(And, as a side note, if we can't find it does that mean we're free to date other people?)*

8-)

But there was something nagging at me while I mentally running through the list. It seems like there something else I had meant to do but totally forgot. I wasn't sure if I was just imaging it or not, but there was something in the back of my head telling me there was one more thing I had planned on doing but hadn't yet done.

When I got home I, as usual, grabbed something to eat and then jumped in the shower, two things I do every Monday. And that is when I remembered what else I had forgotten to do. You see, with running and showering and breakfasting and everything else going on, my Monday mornings are usually very busy, so I try to take care of a few things the day before. That's when it struck me. That's when I remembered the one thing my brain was trying to tell me I'd forgotten to do.

I had forgotten to write my blog—this one you're reading right now.

Oops.

So in the (looking at the clock here) 12 minutes since then, I've turned on my laptop and pounded these words out. Any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors? You know why. Any garbed syntax or very wordy run on sentences? Blame the (now) 13 minutes. Me running 13 minutes behind schedule and now having my entire morning routine thrown off?

That's all on me.

Sigh. Sometimes I amaze even myself. It's usually not in a good way, but sometimes I amaze even myself.

(jim@wmqt.com)

* That's a joke, by the way.

Thursday, 6/10

 Another one down, just fourteen more to go!

I've been joking in here since, oh, last year that the pandemic and the lack of travel opportunities has caused me to get this huge backlog of unused vacation days. Since, during a normal year, I use up a big chunk of those days on a trip to Europe and then the rest on warm, sunny half days at the beach. I've usually never had to think about using them all up. But now that it's been (gasp) 26 months since I've been able to travel anywhere, those days are starting to pile up.

Yes, I know, it's a first world problem. But it is a problem nonetheless.

Even with taking a day off every month so far this year, I still have 15 days left to use before my work anniversary rolls around on September 6^th. Four of those days are set aside to go to Savannah in August, and another one gets used up tomorrow as I'm taking the day off to shoot video for my forthcoming “The Greasier The Spoon” documentary for the Marquette Regional History Center.

That's right. I'm taking a day off from one job so I can do stuff for my other “job”. That's what a typical person does, right?

8-)

That leaves me with ten days (or twenty half days) to use up before September 6^th. If I was a normal person with a normal job that wouldn't be too much of a problem, but because I'm not a normal person with a normal job (and have to work ahead just to make sure I can take a day off) it'll be interesting to see if I can get them all used up by the end of the summer. Normally I'll wait to use them on a day when it's nice outside; however, I may have to drop being so picky if I wanna hit my goal.

We'll see how that turns out. And this whole thing has been, in a way, my way of telling you there won't be a new one of these tomorrow. I hope that's okay. However, in four or six or however many months it takes me to put together the ding-dang documentary, you'll see the end result of what happened on one of those days that I took off in an (hopefully not vain) attempt to use up all my vacation days.

Have a great weekend!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 6/9

 I don't know why I see what I see.

I can't speak to this, and I don't really know that I'm good enough for it to be true, but I've been told by several photographers whose work I admire that I have an “eye”. I mean, technically, I have two of them, but I get what they mean. Sometimes I see stuff in a certain way and then I take a picture of what I see. It may or not be true that I have the aforementioned “eye”; I'm a little too close to my own work to know, but I'll take their word for it.

I thought about this yesterday when I snuck out of work for a few minutes yesterday to enjoy the sunshine. All I did was walk down the alley that leads to the parking deck behind the station when I came across something that I saw with my “eye”, and it looked like this--

It's not like I haven't seen that view hundreds of time in the past few years. There was, however, just something about it yesterday that struck my “eye”, so I strolled back to the station and grabbed a camera. Then, within the 400 feet journey of walking back to work, I saw something else--

And something else--

So maybe, just maybe, my “eye” is drawn to lines and geometric patterns, something that would be quite ironic for someone who barely got through a geometry class I once took. Maybe instead of understanding geometry like I normal person I “see” it instead.

It wouldn't be the first time I was weird that way.

I'll have to think about this and work on it a little more. Maybe the lines and the shapes and what they form make up the “eye” I've been told I have. It would be interesting if that's the case. I'll be curious to find out myself.

Oh. And aside from lines, I did see one other thing while walking back to work.

Someone had a treat awaiting them when they finished work yesterday.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 6/8

 It's been over a year. Maybe I really should get my butt in gear.

During the height of the pandemic last year I wrote a blog about how I should really update the “107 Things to Love About Marquette County” list you can find elsewhere on this website. I figured I would have plenty of time to do it, but here we are 14 months later, and do you think I've even devoted an iota of thought to it?

You know me too well for that.

I last updated it sometime in 2015, so it's due for an updating anyway. But during the past year, as some of the businesses on the list have closed and some of the people on it have either moved or passed away, that need has accelerated. In fact, if you look at the list right now (as I did yesterday) you'll notice that it's actually, technically, “82 Things to Love About Marquette County and 25 Things That Aren't Around Anymore”.

That's a little too cumbersome for a title, doncha think?

I wish I could say I'd set aside a little time to update it, but seeing as how I'm loathe to make promises I can't keep, I can't. Hopefully, however, I'll be able to squeeze together an hour here and an hour there, and who knows—maybe, just maybe—some day the next, updated list will appear. Of course, there's an equal possibility that in August 2022, another fourteen months from now, I'll be writing this exact same blog again, and using the same excuses over and over.

Of course, by then, we could be down to, say “77 Things to Love About Marquette County”, and then I'll REALLY need to get my butt in gear, hunker down, and get the new version of it ready to go.

We'll see, I guess.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 6/7

 The lilacs have started to die.

It's funny, but it only takes a week or two after the most wonderful time of the year starts for the saddest time of the year to begin, the time when the lilac buds start to wilt and fall off their branches.. I know that's the natural life cycle of the plant, but it seems that every year it catches me by surprise. Every year I notice it beginning and silently shout “No, not yet!”.

Still it happens.

This year, it seems a little strange, as well, as right next to plants that are wilting are plants that still haven't yet fully budded. That may add a day or two to the sniffing season, but I'm sure that they will soon go the way of their lilac brethren and start slowly falling off the tree.

Of course, that's what makes lilac season so special. It isn't very long; so you have to enjoy it while you can. It's kind of like the Christmas season; or, at least, the way the Christmas season used to be before radio stations started playing Christmas music in September and that lazy neighbor down the street started leaving their decorations up until July. It's just here for a very short period of time, and you have to cram as much enjoyment into that period as you can.

Because, then, it's gone.

I've heard from a couple of people who've driven past and have noticed me with my nose stuck in a lilac bush. They almost seemed surprised that I like lilacs as much as I say do when I write about them. I don't know why they thought that; I really DO like them as much as I write about them. And since the season for them is so short, odds are you will see me with my nose in them.

After all, you only have a few days in which you can sniff. You have to make the most of them.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 6/4

Because we're staring at a weekend of temperatures approaching 90 (yay!) I'm going to take a couple of hours off today to get stuff out of the way so I can spend the weekend enjoying the sun & heat. So if you don't mind, I'm going to leave you with something I wrote around this time four years ago. The sentiment behind it, however, is still the same.

Have yourself a great weekend. If it's your thing, get all you can out of  the heat!!

(jim@wmqt.com)

*****

(as originally posted 6/7/17)

I have a coworker who has never known a world without Sir Mix a Lot's “Baby Got Back”. I'm not quite sure how I feel about that.

I was working on a computer log at work yesterday when I saw the song's title pop up. Now, as we all know, I have no mental control; once I see the title of an embarrassing song, I tend to have that song stuck in my head for a length anywhere between five minutes and four months. So it probably comes as no surprise that I was walking down the hall singing the epic opening line of the song (which, if you don't know what it is, I won't surprise it by typing it out here. Go ahead and Google “opening line of “Baby Got Back”. Go ahead. I dare you.). As I was walking down the hall singing the opening line, my young ESPN U.P. coworker Blake pipes up “I love that song”.

And, doing a little math in my head, that's how my mind was blown.

No, it wasn't blown by the math (something that HAS happened once or twice before). It was blown by this—the song came out in 1992. Blake was born in 1995 (I know because I asked). I now work with something who's YOUNGER than Sir Mix a Lot's “Baby Got Back”.

How the heck did THAT happen?

That means that Blake is three years older than “Baby Got Back”. It's been part of his musical vocabulary since he's been old enough to have a musical vocabulary. To him, it's just an “old” song, like Nirvana's “Smells Like Teen Spirit” or anything popular recorded by Madonna. To him, songs that I might consider part of the soundtrack of my life, songs by someone like, say,  REM, are thought of the same way I might think of songs by Elvis or the Four Seasons.

You know---as oldies. Songs like my parents might like. I'm apparently old enough to have become an “oldie”, at least in the eyes of one of my coworkers.

I don't think I like that.

I consider myself fairly hip, fairly conversant in today's music. It's partly a benefit of working where I do, and partly because, as we all know, I refuse to act my age. But a song I clearly remember from its original release has proven that, at least to a whole generation of people, that despite my best efforts, despite the way I act, that despite the fact that I'm fighting it with every fiber of my being, that time is passing me by.

I've become an oldie. And I have Sir Mix a Lot to thank for that realization.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 6/4

 If it had ended a few minutes later, and it wouldn't have worked.

We were able to get the “Third Street: Day & Night” walking tour in last night, even though it had been raining up until 530. By the 630 starting time the skies had started to clear, and soon we started to see people show up--

I think probably 120-ish people showed up, a nice number, but one that makes me wonder just how many people would've made the trip with us had the whole day been as nice as the evening. But since I was a bit concerned that too many people would show up, I guess I shouldn't complain, should I?

Besides, I can always do the tour again sometime this summer on a nice day and see who shows up. That could be fun., and would fit into the concept of doing “pop up tours” that I had written about in here a few weeks ago.

As always, I want to publicly thank my dad, who carries the speaker amplifying my voice for the entire tour (in yesterday's case, about two hours). I also want to thank several people who shared their stories both during & after the tour. One of the reasons I do them is to learn stuff myself, and I sure did that last night.

One project down, another 650 left to go. Bring them on!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 6/2

 I have a feeling things will be very, very interesting tonight.

Tonight is the first Jim Koski ™ walking tour for the Marquette Regional History Center in almost two years, and I'm getting a little nervous about it. I'm not nervous about the tour at all; that'll be fine, and a lot of fun for everyone who shows up. But what I AM worried about is how many people show up. A couple of weeks ago I guessed it would be somewhere between five and 500, and I'm now thinking it will be much closer to the latter than the former.

And based on the size of the sidewalks on Third Street, I don't know how we're all going to fit.

There's not much I can do about it, I guess. We'll deal with things as they come. I will let you know tomorrow how things go between me and my (gulp) anywhere between five and 500 close friends. And to get you in the spirit, here's a newspaper article I wrote to try and entice even more people to show up.

Yes, I'm insane. What's your point?

8-)

Hope to see you tonight if you can make it!

(jim@wmqt.com)

*****

Over the years, you may have noticed something unique about Marquette's Third Street business district—something that, for the lack of a better word, we'll call “clusters”.

Unlike in other areas of the city, Third Street was home to many “clusters” of the same type of businesses up & down the district. All of Marquette's funerals homes were (and still are) located on Third, as were many of the city's finest hair salons. For many years, another type of business clustered around the area were bakeries, and out of all of the bakeries that have called Third Street home, there are two that still standout in people's memories today--

The original Marquette Baking Company, and the Sweet Goods Shoppe.

For almost 50 years, until it shut its doors in the early 1980s, the Marquette Baking Company would be a stop for everyone from school kids to their grandparents. Alfred Alholm owned the bakery for 35 of those years, and he was joined in making the goods by Erick Ryoti, who himself worked there for 20 years. One of them would show up around 4 every morning to get the dough started for the day's projects, and by the time the rest of the city was on the move the place would be packed with everything from bread to doughnuts to cakes.

Even forty years after it closed people still remember the wedding cakes you could get there—one person said “I've never had a cake as fine as they made. And I loved their white icing and have never found any like it.”

Other people have raved about their pasties, macaroons, and date bars, and one person also mentioned “Their brownies have NEVER been beaten anywhere in my book!”. One gentleman who was a kid back in the 50s mentioned that he “always walked into the Marquette Bakery on Third and the lady with the dark wavy hair and a hair net would give me a lemon & raspberry filled doughnut. I will never forget her!”

Like all bakeries of the time, though, the Marquette Baking Company specialized in its bread. White, rye, limpa, French...everyone had their favorite. When the bakery closed in the early 1980s, it actually lived on for a few years as a shop called The Bread Basket, which used the original recipes from the old Marquette Baking Company.

Seven blocks down Third Street from the Marquette Baking Company sat the Sweet Goods Shoppe . And while the bakery was known for its cookies and and other snack treats, many people recall other specialties, like their pasties. One or two of the huge pie-plate sized dishes would serve just fine for family dinners or picnics on Presque Isle.

Other people remember the great taste of the sweet rye or Swedish Rye bread, and say they've never quite found one that matches the bread baked by Ted Gasper, who owned Sweet Goods Shop for many, many years.

And there are people who even remember picking blueberries for the Sweet Goods Shoppe. They'd get paid a nickel a quart, although they'd have to clean what they picked themselves--and the fresh berries would be used in the pies sold there during the summer.

The Gaspar family ran the Sweet Goods' Shoppe until it closed in the early 1970s. Its location is now home to several businesses, most notably the Casa Calabria.

*****

“Third Street: Day and Night” is a walking tour being put on by the Marquette Regional History Center Wednesday, June 2^nd, beginning at 630. The walk begins and ends at the PEIF parking lot, and there's a $5 suggested donation. For more information, contact the History Center at (906) 226-3571..

Tuesday, 6/1

It's a tragedy through which no one should have to suffer.

First of all, hope you had a great holiday weekend. We did with Loraine's parents.  In fact, we even got them out on a soccer pitch, where Loraine's mother assisted me with a goal while her dad shot a couple of balls past me in the net.

I hope they had as much fun as we did.

However, they did inform me that they lived through the aforementioned tragedy, something so heinous and mind-blowing that no one should ever have to deal with it, much less people for whom I have a good amount of affection.

Two weeks ago, just as their lilacs were starting to bloom, a hard freeze hit the area of the Thumb where they live. It killed the blossoms, and even some of the leaves on the trees, which means they had no lilacs at all this year.

Oh, the horror. The horror.

Thankfully, and perhaps with a little luck involved, they got up here just in time to see this--

So, needless to say, a nice chunk of their four-day visit was spent stopping at every lilac tree we saw while we were out walking so they could sniff the ambrosia which they had been so painfully denied. I mean, I would've been spending most of my weekend doing that, anyway, but it was so much sweeter that they were able to enjoy it, too.

Sure, it means that it took a little longer to get where we were going, but it was a sacrifice we were more than happy to make.

Now, it's back to reality, at least for a little bit. I have that Jim Koski ™ walking tour coming up tomorrow night, and then a string of 80 degrees days in the forecast (and nary a 41 degree day to follow up). Ah, June.

It really IS the most wonderful time of the year!

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)