Thursday, 9/30

 Since I have to be at the dentist in a few minutes to get the permanent cap on the tooth I broke while brushing my teeth last week, I'll leave you with a tale from three or four years ago.

Well, actually, I wrote about the tale three or four years ago. The stories behind it goes back a few decades before that.

Something new tomorrow!

(jim@wmqt.com)

*****

Back in the 60s and the 70s there was a bowling alley and bar in Marquette called The Four Seasons. It was located on the west side of the city, in what is now the office building behind First Bank on Washington Street. Anyway, it was one of those places where people went if they were under-aged and after one night of drinking at that establishment led two young people to decide they wanted to take something home with them.

Specifically, they wanted to take two bowling balls home with them.

So, in their drunk state, they somehow smuggled two full-sized bowling balls out of the bar, and soon found themselves standing at the corner of Front & Ridge in Marquette. There they were—in front of Peter White Library, at the top of a very steep hill, holding two bowling balls.

You can guess what happened next.

As they rolled the balls down the street, they realized they had forgotten one very important concept—that of gravity. As the balls rolled down the (rather steep) hill, they picked up speed and within a few seconds had already traveled three blocks, down past Main Street. It was there the first ball hit a pothole, flew into the air, and into the window of a parked car. The other ball made it a few more feet, until it hit the curb and ended up going through the front window of Getz's.

If the Mining Journal had a police log back in those days, I can just imagine what the entry would've read, but alas, it didn't. The two young people never were caught, although the person who shared the story says they still feel guilty about it. I don't know their names, so their secret is save with me, but it's just one of the many stupid things people have done when they're young & drunk. And in possession of two bowling balls.

Ah, you gotta love history, don't you?

8-)

Wednesday, 9/29

 When you sneeze, how many times do you sneeze?

Yeah, I know. It's a strange question. But it is a legitimate one, born of yet another weird discussion between me and the most amazing woman in the world. Usually, when I sneeze, I sneeze twice in a row. In fact, most people, when they sneeze, sneeze twice in a row.  But in the past few weeks (since we've returned from visiting Loraine's parents, in fact), I seem to be sneezing only once. I sneeze, I wait for the second, and it never comes.

On the scale of important things in the world, that probably ranks last. But I'm wondering why I've changed, a wonder made even stranger when Loraine informed me that she's always usually only sneezed once.

Married all these years, and there are still things I'm discovering about her.

Actually, the fact that I never realized she only sneezes once at a time probably goes to show just how trivial this whole subject is. But I like to think I'm attuned to what goes on with my body, and when I all of sudden started sneezing only once instead of twice I noticed it, much in the same I'd notice something else weird, like a toe dropping off or a third eye growing out of my forehead.

It was just out of the ordinary.

Now, I sneeze a lot, especially during the summer. It's not (always) allergies. I'm one of those people who has photo-voltaic sneezes. When I step out in the bright light, especially summer sunshine, I sneeze. In fact, I usually sneeze twice. So why I've started sneezing only once instead of the usual twice has me perplexed. Did something happen downstate that robbed me (or cured me) of that extra sneeze? Has the diminishing light of Autumn caused me to lose the extra sneeze, and for the first time in my life I've actually noticed it? Has living with a single sneezer all these years finally rubbed off on me?

I have no idea. And while the world won't stop revolving on its axis if I don't find out, it is the kind of thing that might cause someone with a weak mind to lie awake at night pondering the mysteries of it.

Not, of course, that I'm someone with a weak mind. Nope...not me.

8-)

Like I said, in the schemes of things it ranks slightly below the mystery of where your socks disappear when you throw them in the dryer. Who knows? Maybe my double sneezing will return, and I'll forget all about it. Or, heck, who knows—maybe I'll keep my habit of single sneezing, and in a year I'll forget that I was ever a double sneezer. Neither way would surprise me.

After, it's just a sneeze (or two).

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 9/28

 If everything goes to schedule—no sure bet these days—we get to start it again a week from today.

That's right. One week from today—barring any kind of tragedy—we, for the first time in almost two years, get to start taping a new season of “High School Bowl”. After all the fits and starts of hoping we'd be able to do it last year, and then having the plug pulled at the last minute, I think we're all looking forward to getting back into the studio and spending a little time with the brightest young people on the planet.

At least I'M looking forward to it.

The guts of the show--smart kids and a dorky host—will remain the same. However, it'll look a bit different that it did when we wrapped up the previous season in the Before Times. A new set was built for the season that never was last year; now, that's been modified even more and, perhaps for the first times since the 70s, the show will now look “modern”. I've seen mock-ups of it, and I can't wait to see it in person.

I think people watching the show might really like it, too. It sure is...different, even though it's set up in a very familiar way.

Another big change that might occur? Well, there's a chance we'll all be masked up on camera. It's an NMU rule, and we're still seeing how that all falls out. All the students, of course, are seated close to each other, and while I'm more than six feet away from them, I do have to get in close for the mid-show interview segments. I don't mind wearing a mask—if nothing else, it means I could probably get away with not shaving before a show--and if it sets a good example for someone out there, I'm all for it.

As with the new set, we'll see how that all shakes out.

And finally, although people watching will have no idea at all, we're having to shoot the first couple of episodes in segments, and not necessarily in order. We shoot the first half of the first show on day one, and then the second half a week later, when we also shoot the second half of the third show. It goes on like this for most of October—for instance, we don't shoot the opening half of show two until week five—but the viewing audience should have no idea.

The only person to whom it really matters is me, if only because I have to make sure my clothes from one half of the show to the other match up.. Hopefully, the chart I made up actually works. Otherwise, you'll be sitting there wondering why I'm in a pink shirt for the first half of the show and a black one for the second.

And nobody wants that.

Like I said, one week from today we'll see if all this works. And, if I haven't mentioned yet, it's something to which I am really looking forward. Hopefully, it'll be as much fun as it was the first six years we were able to do it!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 9/27

 Loraine's a good person to have around.

I mean, there are many reasons why the Most Amazing Woman in the World is good to have around, but the way in which I'm thinking today has to do with a 1947 movie called “Daisy Kenyon”. One of the times she was at Peter White Public Library doing her World War II research she came across a little snippet about the movie and shared it with me.

I've been taking it to the bank ever since.

You see, the film was on “Turner Classic Movies” this past Saturday, so I decided to share that fact on a couple of places on Facebook. Why would I do that, you ask? Well, I answer, because the nugget Loraine found out about the film was that a scene was shot here in Marquette. This scene, specifically--

That's a screen shot from the 20-second scene they shot at Presque Isle one day in March of 1947. Before Loraine shared the newspaper clip with me I had no idea it existed; since then, I've gotten blogs, TV commercials for the History Center, newspaper articles, and now, a Facebook post with over 500 likes from it.

I think I owe her something for that, don't you?

I actually think we make a pretty good team in that way. She comes across something that she can't use but I might find interesting and shares it with me. I do the same for her. In the case of that story from a long-ago edition of the Mining Journal, it's just a gift that keeps on giving.

And I'm really glad I'm the one to whom she gave it.

So next time you see a blog, commercial, newspaper article, or Facebook post about “Daisy Kenyon” and how one scene of it was shot in Marquette, just remember that while I'm probably the person telling it, it's a story that would not be told without the keen eye of the Most Amazing Woman in the World.

Thanks, Loraine!!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 9/24

 Maybe it's a sign the sign should be moved.

Several times this past summer, when it was nice out, I would take my lunch down to Lower Harbor and munch on it at one of the picnic tables in front of the ore dock. Several times this past summer, when it was nice out, my mom & her cousins would hold their weekly Wednesday dinner at one of the picnic tables in front of the ore dock. Aside from the fact that we both eating there there was another thing that occurred to both of us at least five or six times a visit--

Tourists asking what that “thing” is in the water.

Now, I realize that the Lower Harbor Ore Dock—dock #6, as those of us in the know like to call it—is something that tourists find fascinating. It's unique, it commands your attention, and it compels you to find out more about it. That's why so many people visiting the area asked us about it.

When asked, I was more than happy to tell visitors the story behind it (sometimes, perhaps, more than they wanted to hear), and my mom & her cousins did the same. When we were discussing it last week my mom mentioned that the city might want to put up a sign explaining what the ore dock is.

Then, while I was out taking pictures this past Sunday I was at dock #6, and noticed there is indeed a sign explaining what the dock is. Unfortunately, it's on the bike path and not right near the dock--

I understand why there's a sign on the bike path, so that people walking or biking nearby can learn about the dock. But what about all the people who just pull their car into the parking lot to catch a glimpse of the dock? They don't know there's a sign on the bike path (heck, even I wasn't fully aware there's a sign on the bike path) so they have no idea there's the whole story nearby. Instead, they have to ask people sitting at the picnic tables. Thankfully, almost all of us are more than happy to explain what the dock is.

But what about those times when there's no one eating lunch or visiting with their cousins? Then what do visitors do?

I guess I'll have to drop a few hints to people about either moving the current sign or putting another one up by the dock. After all, it is one of the symbols of where we live. It's one of the unique things that make Marquette “Marquette”. And wouldn't it be nice for people visiting this rather unique community to get the whole story of the iconic structure?

At the very least, I think so.

Have yourself a great weekend!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 9/23

 Thankfully, today started out much better than yesterday.

When we last met I was on my way to the dentist after losing an outside chunk of one of my teeth. I'm now the proud owner of a temporary cap on that tooth, and awaiting the arrival of the permanent cap one week from today, which means my smile will be back to normal a mere five days before I start shooting “High School Bowl” for the first time in two years.

So if I needed to lose part of a tooth, this was the perfect time for it. Not that there's ever a perfect time to lose a tooth, but if it was going to occur I'm glad it occurred now. Let's just hope it doesn't happen again until, say, the end of February.

Not that I want it to happen again, but you know what I mean.

Now onto the other adventure of the week (so far)--the tide may be turning against the Russian hackers.

For those of you who don't know, Russian hackers had tied up the company upstream from the company that provides our phone service at work with ransomware, demanding $5 million to unclog their servers. Thankfully, the people at both companies affected are quite smart and outfoxed the Russian hackers, which means that for the first time since Friday we have working phones at the station. Good thing, too, seeing as how phone calls from listeners are a big part of what we do here.

That's not the only dealings with Russian hackers that touched us peripherally, either. The company that provides us with our traffic software—how we schedule commercials—had their servers brought down by a different Russian hacking group. Thankfully, that didn't affect us at all, because while we use their software we don't use their cloud-based services. They keep trying to get us to do that, but we have older equipment and we like to keep things local.

In this case, it worked out. Otherwise we'd be manually placing each and every commercial we play in the computer by hand. And trust me—as the only one working here, that's NOT something to which I'd look forward.

Really.

So all the little kerfuffles of the week (so far) have been taken care of. I'm hopeful that the final two days of the week will be kerfuffle-free. If you would, keep your fingers crossed that's the case.

My sanity thanks you for that.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 9/22

 This is not how I planned on beginning my day.

I lost a chunk of a tooth while brushing my teeth a little while ago (and just as a side note, isn't brushing your teeth supposed to be a GOOD thing?). I have no idea how it happened, other than the fact the tooth was more filling that actual tooth and it finally gave out after decades of protest. No matter how and no matter why, I do have to go see about getting it fixed, and the only time in the next week and a half my dentist could fit me in is, well, about 45 minutes from now.

And I do need to get it fixed—you can see the missing chunk of tooth when I smile. I start shooting a TV show in two weeks. A TV show where I smile a lot.

See why I need to get it fixed?

Anyway, that's my long-winded way of saying that this will be a short one today. Don't worry, though. Tomorrow I get to tell you about Russian hackers.

Really, I do!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 9/21

 Well, I didn't mean to take QUITE that many.

Sunday, aside from strolling by the beach and noticing the dearth of guys around, I took one of my cameras out and decided to document would could (possibly) be the last nice day of 2021. When I got home and transferred them onto my laptop I was a little shocked that I had taken (ahem) 183 pictures.

Yup. 183. But in my defense is WAS a nice day out, so what was I supposed to right, right?

What did I see? Well, I saw all kind of things, including the aforementioned people enjoying themselves at McCarty's Cove--

Other people enjoying themselves a few parks over--

The boats nearby bobbing up & down in the water--

Something we'll call “The Long & Winding Road”--

Something a fan of “The Godfather” might appreciate--

What's left of the Shiras Power Plant--

The unofficial symbol of downtown Marquette these days--

And, to cleanse your palette after that, some pretty flowers--

There. Only eight pictures out of 183. Consider yourself lucky.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 9/20

 If I was a guy, I know where I would've been Sunday afternoon.

Okay; that didn't sound quite right, if only because the last time I checked, I AM a guy. Let me put it this way—if I was young, single guy, I know where I would've been Sunday afternoon--

The beach. Specifically, the beach at McCarty's Cove

Let me explain. Because it was a gorgeous, 85 degree day (at the end of September!) Loraine and I found ourselves out walking around a bunch of bike paths, the one near McCarty's Cove included. I was surprised by something—while the beach was packed (as well it should be), the vast majority of people that were there were women. I was kind of surprised by that; after all, it's usually split 50-50 among the genders. But then I started to think (which, as we all know, can be a very dangerous thing), and I suddenly realized why the beach may have filled with nothing but women.

All the guys were inside watching football.

I mean, that's the only reason I can think of why the beaches were virtually empty of men on an 85 degree Sunday. Every other Sunday we've walked past that locale there have been men on the beach; the only thing different this past Sunday was the fact that pro football was being shown on TV. So that's the only reason I can think of. And it's a shame the guys missed it, too. It was a gorgeous day, and they missed it for what—the Packers and the Lions weren't even on.

They're playing each other tonight.

Loraine also joked about how, by not being at the beach, the guys were missing out on a chance to perhaps meet all those women who were being smart and enjoying the sun and the warmth. And that got us to talking...where exactly DO single people go to meet now? I mean, we've been together forever, and haven't exactly had to worry about meeting other people. But where DO single people go to meet now; assuming, of course, that they actually go somewhere to meet in person, and just don't do it online. Do you still go to bars to meet people? Do you still see who's cruising the produce aisles of a grocery store? Or do you go outside, on a nice sunny day, and meet someone that way?

Inquiring (married) minds want to know!

So if you're a young person (man or woman) and it's nice outside again some Sunday this fall, take it from someone who has seen it first hand. Don't spend the entire afternoon glued to a TV set or a computer screen. Go to the beach instead.

You're welcome.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 9/17

 I'm looking forward to this weekend.

We seem to get one weekend every September or October in Marquette when a strong southwest wind blows and the temperatures shoot up. This year, it's supposed to be this weekend, with highs on Sunday forecast to be in the mid 80s. While we've had a lot of warm temperatures this summer, you can never have too many of them.

Besides, it'll allow me a chance to say “goodbye” to the warmth for another year.

Don't laugh, and while you're at it, don't worry. I'm not any more strange than I normally am. Here's what I'm talking about—last year near the end of August it was 85...a glorious day filled with sun & fun. A Facebook friend had written something up about that day probably being the last nice one of the year, an idea at which I kinda scoffed.

However, she was right. It WAS the last day for the year when it hit 85. I scoffed at the notion, and I was wrong.

That's why this year, if it does get above 80 at all on Sunday, I'm going to say “goodbye” to summer as a proper person would.

Assuming, of course, a proper person actually WOULD say “goodbye” to summer.

So that's what I'm hoping to do this weekend, along with all the usual stuff. And, of course, along with wishing the two people without whom I wouldn't be here a happy anniversary! That's right; my parents are celebrating another one, and while we're not marking the date with a big shindig this year (because, after all, it IS the 21^st month of 2020) we still have to acknowledge it some way, right? So happy anniversary, Mom & Dad. Thanks for setting a great example for everyone. And don't forget—we're going to lunch in a few hours!

Love,

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—if you haven't yet seen the website we put together for them a few years ago, avail yourself when you have a few seconds by clicking on or touching the link--

www.chickanddarlene.com  )

Thursday, 9/15

I wonder if our rate has gone up or gone down?

Monday, I wrote about getting cigarette smoke blown in my face.  Then yesterday, in quite the coincidence, I saw a statistic released by the Centers for Disease Control showing that the smoking rate in the US has gone down to 14% overall.  It's the lowest rate in history, and a sign that people are finally realizing that there is nothing at all good about exposing yourself and others to cancer-causing chemicals.

Maybe there's a little hope for the world yet.

About a decade and a half ago I was curious about Marquette County's smoking rate (I think for a “What's Up, UP” question), and in the course of research found that Marquette County had the lowest smoking rate in the entire state.  Back in 2007, Marquette County's smoking rate was at 14%, which is what the rest of the country is at now.  So in the past 14 years, has Marquette County's rate dropped even further, or were we just a decade (and change) ahead of our time?

I'd be curious to know.

I know people still smoke in Marquette County.  Trust me, I know that for sure—every so often we have a contest winner come in to pick up a prize reeking so strongly of cigarette smoke that we have to open our doors just to air out our lobby.  I don't know if those listeners are aware they smell that bad, or if they're just nose-blind, but it's bad.  Really, really bad.  So I do know that some people in Marquette County still smoke.

I also know that a lot of temporary residents and tourists smoke, as well.  Over the past few months I have seen a marked increase of people walking down the Front Street hill outside of the station, looking at the buildings and putting away on their cancer sticks.  So at any one time a chunk of the people in Marquette County who smoke aren't from here (and, trying hard not to stereotype, I've noticed that a lot of those smokers I observed had either just left the Landmark Inn up the hill or had just parked cars with out of state license plates).

Spending a lot of time walking around downtown Marquette, you notice now apparent that can, on occasion, be.  In fact, Loraine and I have a running gag going that if we see someone smoking on the sidewalk, it's most usually a tourist, especially when they blow smoke in the direction of passers-by.

Yoopers are just too gosh darned polite to do that.  Except, just perhaps, the smokehole who did it to me Monday morning.

But overall, I have no idea how many residents of Marquette County still smoke.  I have no idea if we still have the lowest tobacco usage rate in Michigan, or if we've just settled in amongst the pack.  Maybe I'll have to do a little more digging; if any of you know, please share.  No matter what, though, it's nice to see that the country as a whole has decided that smoking sucks.

Something that people around here started realizing and putting into practice over a decade ago.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 9/14

 I think I might like Jeremy's list better.

As we noted last week, one of the discussions held when Loraine and I visited her parents a week and a half ago was once with her nephew Jeremy about cutting The Beatles' “The White Album” down from a double to a single disc. This is a mind game music nerds play; even the late Beatles producer George Martin, right before he died in 2016, offered the thought that the group's “The White Album” should have been a single disc instead of a double album. I can't say I disagree; the 1968 album isn't one of my favorites, and it has a lot of filler and experimental work on it that, at least when I listen, gets skipped over.

And that started the discussion between Loraine and Jeremy and me. If you had to follow George Martin's suggestion and cut “The White Album” to a single disc—from 30 songs to 15 songs—which would make the cut? As we've found when posing the question over the past few years, no two people would put it together the same way. I'm sure that every single person would have different songs make the cut, based on their tastes and their idea of what would constitute a classic Beatles album. I know Loraine and Jeremy and I couldn't agree, and I'd imagine that if any of you put together your own version of a single disc “White Album”, it would be radically different from mine.

But for what it's worth, here's what I think. First of all, for your reference, the 30 songs that make up the double length “White Album”.

Back in the U.S.S.R.

Dear Prudence

Glass Onion

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

Wild Honey Pie

The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill

While My Guitar Gently Weeps

Happiness Is a Warm Gun

Martha My Dear

I'm So Tired

Blackbird

Piggies

Rocky Raccoon

Don't Pass Me By

Why Don't We Do It in the Road?

I Will

Julia

Birthday

Yer Blues

Mother Nature's Son

Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey

Sexy Sadie

Helter Skelter

Long, Long, Long

Revolution 1

Honey Pie

Savoy Truffle

Cry Baby Cry

Revolution 9

Good Night

Now, here's my thought process in cutting it down to 15. Your thought process, of course, will differ, but I started by keeping the songs that everyone would consider the classics--”USSR”, “Guitar”, “Blackbird”, “Julia”, “Birthday”, “Helter Skelter”, “Revolution”, and “Good Night”. You have to have those nine songs, or it wouldn't be the essence of “The White Album”. Admittedly, the list is a little McCartney heavy, so let's add “Dear Prudence” and “Happiness is a Warm Gun” from John Lennon, and George Harrison's “Savoy Truffle”, just because. That's 12 songs.

But what about the final three? That's where it gets tough.”Why Don't We Do It In The Road” is cute but disposable. “Bungalow Bill”'s the same. “Revolution Number 9”, like a bunch of the tracks, is just too weird. However, songs like “Mother Nature's Son” and “Rocky Raccoon” have been remade by a bunch of people, so let's throw those onto the list. That's 14. For the final song? Throw in Ringo's “Don't Pass Me By”.

He could probably use the songwriting royalties.

So here's what MY one-disc version of “The White Album” would look like--

Back in the U.S.S.R.

Dear Prudence

While My Guitar Gently Weeps

Happiness Is a Warm Gun

Blackbird

Rocky Raccoon

Don't Pass Me By

Julia

Birthday

Mother Nature's Son

Helter Skelter

Revolution 1

Savoy Truffle

Good Night

However, that's not what Jeremy thought. And that's okay. That's one of the great things about this thought exercise. Every single person does it differently. As I mentioned, he spent most of the night re-listening to the album and, in the end, re-sequencing it so that each side has a theme. Here's what he came up with for HIS single disc version of “The White Album”--

(side one)

Back in the USSR

Dear Prudence

Sexy Sadie

Martha My Dear

I Will

Blackbird

White My Guitar Gently Weeps

(side two)

Helter Skelter

Happiness is a Warm Gun

Piggies

Rocky Raccoon

Savoy Truffle

Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da

Good Night

Nice tight playlist, classic songs, and no filler. It's just what a Beatles album should look like. And as I had mentioned before, in his sequencing he even makes “Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da” fit in.

Who knew you could do that? Yet a 20-year old did.

As I mentioned, every single person on the planet could come up with their version of the album. But that's what makes this such a fascinating mental exercise. So thank you, George Martin, for leaving us one final musical gift before you passed away five years ago, a gift that is still driving the brains of music nerds everywhere.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 9/14

 Yesterday, I wrote about a choice. A very bad, bad choice. Today, let's discuss a slightly better one.

First of all, let me thank those of you who sent notes of sympathy and/or horror after reading about the skunk/cigarette smoke double whammy of yesterday. I'm just glad you guys didn't have to go through it and, hopefully, it'll never happen again

Can it?

Now, here's the other choice that popped into my head while thinking about choice. Which month is better—May or September?

Before you think I've lost my marbles (yet again), let me explain the rationale behind it. May and September are the “buffer months” of summer, which for the purposes of these musings are June, July & August. May gets us ready for summer, while September eases us out of it. Both months have good points and bad points, but which is “better”?

And yes, I realize “better” is a highly subjective term, so you'll have to decide on that for yourself.

But here's how I'm thinking of it because, seriously, I can't decide. May, while it's cool, has more sun, a higher sun angle, and the promise of a warm summer yet to come. September, meanwhile, is warmer than May, and gives us (on occasion) a few last really hot days out of which to wring every remaining second of summer-like weather. If you want to look at it another way, May is a month filled with optimism and hope but will often left you down. September., on the other hand, is reliable but, as it wears on, is also increasingly gloomy.

So trying to choose between the two is difficult, if not downright impossible.

I have no idea why my mind drifts to questions like these; it's probably my id's way of trying to get me ready for yet another wonderful UP winter. All I know is that it's a choice that's interesting to ponder.

Much more interesting than, say, having to choose between skunk and cigarette smoke.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 9/13

I don't know which smell is worse. I don't know which smell is more deserving as the scent that could make up a theoretical 8^th ring of Dante's Hell.

But at least now I have a side by side comparison.

Loraine and I were jolted out of sleep around 5 this morning by the smell of a skunk spraying somewhere VERY close to our apartment. Sadly, it's not an uncommon way in which we're awoken. As I've written in here before, despite the fact that we live in one of mostly densely packed sections of the city skunks seem to love our neighborhood. I have no idea why; they just do.

So, after enjoying that olfactory alarm clock I went running a few hours later. And I was heading down the bike path near McCarty's Cove some guy walking along it chose the moment I passed him to exhale a lung full of cigarette smoke, aiming it (or so it seems) right at my face.

That was awfully nice of him. And it was one of those times I wished I carried a camera with me while running. I would have loved to have gotten a picture of the...smokehole so I could post it on social media.

For me, at least, those are two of the most horrid smells on the planet. Granted, I've never come across a dead body in the middle of decomposition, which I've been told is the ultimate in mind-blowingly bad odors, but skunks and second-hand cigarette smoke top my list.

Trying to figure out which is worse is a hard task. After all, millions of years of evolution have gone into making a skunk's smell putrid. However, smelling a skunk won't kill you, which is something second-hand cigarette smoke has been known to do. So how do you choose? It's like having to pick your favorite between vomiting and diarrhea.

There is no winner.

Don't worry; I'll keep pondering the idea. I just hope—really, really hope—that I don't get to do another side-by-side comparison of the two smells within a two-hour span any time soon. Because, and you can trust me on this, once is more than enough.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 9/10

 Which songs would you choose?

I had mentioned a few days ago that while we were down visiting Loraine's parents that we got into a rather thought provoking conversation with Loraine's youngest nephew Jeremy, who's an amazing kid (well, 20-year old) with an incredible grasp on pop culture. Specifically, Jeremy knows a lot about music from the latter half of the 1960s. So when I put forth a question that I've put forth before, he tackled it head on.

That question? If you were to cut down The Beatles “White Album” from a double to a single album, which songs would you keep?

I've long thought that “The White Album” was one of the group's lesser efforts, if only because there is a lot of filler on those four sides of music. When they returned from their sojourn to India they had a bunch of songs written, and apparently recorded each and everyone one of them for the album. Some of them, sadly, didn't really need to be recorded. I've always thought that if the group had only released the material as a single disc, if they had just used the strongest songs, that “The White Album” would have been one of their best. Not everyone agrees with me (hi, Loraine!), but that's my opinion.

And I'm sticking to it.

Anyway, Jeremy took the discussion seriously. He stayed up a good chunk of that night listening to the album several times, and then came up with his version of the one-disc “White Album”. I have to admit that he did rather well, too, re-sequencing the songs into such a coherent order that even “Ob-La- Di Ob-La-Da” sounds like it belongs (which it never has on any of my versions). As with everyone else we had disagreements about which songs should stay and which should go, but that's what makes it such a fascinating thought exercise.

Well, at least fascinating if you're a music geek, which apparently several of us are.

So there you go. If you get bored this weekend, try your hand at your version of a one disc “White Album”. If you do, you'll join the fine company of some of the biggest music geeks in the world. Or, at least, the biggest music geeks sitting around a kitchen table last weekend in Reese, Michigan.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 9/9

 Yesterday I wore pants for the first time in two months.

You know, if I were cruel, I'd write that line and say “goodbye”. I'd leave you to wonder if I'd had gone off my rocker, joined a cult, or became a member of the German FFK movement. That's what I'd do if I were cruel.

But I'm not.

Yesterday I did indeed wear actual pants for the first time in two months (well, two months and two days, to be specific). But it's not like I've been wandering around in my underwear or anything. Since July 6th, the day it was raining and in the 50s, I've been wearing my clothing of choice—shorts. It's been shorts weather for those two months (and two days) and since I didn't have a need to wear pants I didn't.

But that all changed yesterday.

Yesterday, it was chilly & rainy in Marquette. Yesterday, I actually had another show with my pal Jack, this one a fund-raiser for the History Center. So yesterday, I bowed to reality and wore pants for the first time in two months (and two days).

I'm happy to report I survived with a minimum amount of damage.

I didn't intend to not wear pants for over two months. It's just one of those things that spontaneously occurred. I then noticed it, and, like my streak of wearing shorts while running for thirty-some months in a row, I just rode the wave. I probably should have worn pants once or twice during that span, if only to be an adult, but as we both know, when was the last time I was accused of being an adult?

Right?

But now that it's getting colder and wetter out I'm sure I'll be wearing pants much more often. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if I ended up wearing them every day because that's what adults do, especially as we head into October and November and have to deal with pesky things like snow and freezing temperatures.

But while it lasted, those two months (and two days) were glorious.

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—I know I promised you a mental exercise today. Here's my word—as an avid wearer of shorts—that that's on the way tomorrow!)

Wednesday, 9/8

 And greetings from somewhere on I-75. I’m not quite sure where, but it’s the place where there are trees on the left and trees on the right.

So wherever that is, that’s where we are.

We had a very nice, very extended weekend down in Reese, visiting Loraine’s family and keeping the surprise celebration of their 60th wedding anniversary a secret. Loraine, one of her brothers, her sister, and a nephew had been coordinating the surprise, and when it came off without a hitch everyone was quite happy.

Especially Loraine’s parents.

Otherwise, we just spent time hanging out, playing with Loraine’s parents’ cats, eating a lot, and, uhm, going to the one place we can’t go to in Marquette, if only because we don’t have one--Aldi. Don’t believe me?

Hi, my name is Jim, and I’m an Aldi-holic. And if you think I’m bad now, just wait until we actually DO get one in Marquette. After the first week, I may need an intervention.

So be forewarned.

We also spent some time just wandering around Loraine’s home town. Reese reminds me a lot of and is about the same size of Gwinn, with one rather glaring exception. Everyone, let me introduce you to (and this is Loraine’s phrase) “The awesome flatness of Reese”--

It’s actually hard to capture in a picture just how flat Reese is; in sections with no trees you can see for miles and miles and miles. Because it’s flat it’s home to hundreds of farms, which means that the only things that rise more than 20 feet above the terrain would be the grain elevators--

Although some of the farm equiment on sale might qualify, as well.

But if you know where to look, you can see things in the nooks and crannies that make Loraine’s home town nothing like what I'm used to and therefore charmingly and uniquely “Reese”.

The most important part of the trip, though, was to spend time with her family, especially the members we haven’t seen in two and a half years, and we were able to exceed her dreams in that respect. That, in fact, even led to a rather interesting discussion and thought experiment with the youngest member of the family.

Details on that--and perhaps a homework assignment for you--tomorrow.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 9/2

 I hope this getaway goes better than the last getaway.

Actually, I KNOW this getaway will go better than the last one, if for no other reason that we're driving downstate and back, which means (unless something REALLY goes wrong) we won't have any flights canceled on us and we won't have to spend an extra night in Charlotte, North Carolina.

Although, if something like that were to happen, at least I'd have a blog for next Wednesday, wouldn't I?

Here's what we're doing this time—we're driving downstate to see Mon & Dad II over the weekend, plus visit with other assorted members of Loraine's family. We haven't been down there in two and a half years, and while various members have popped up to Marquette this summer & last we haven't had a chance to all be together in the same place at the same time.

And I kinda think Loraine's looking forward to that.

So there won't be one of these tomorrow, nor Tuesday (the day we drive back). However, on that drive back home I'll whip something up and maybe even post it from I-75. That depends upon when & where I finish it. You see, Loraine drives while we're downstate and then I take over when we hit the UP (a long standing tradition on our part), so assuming I get it finished before we hit the Bridge I'll try to stick it up.

We'll see how that works out.

So have a great holiday weekend, Behave yourself, and check back Tuesday night or Wednesday morning. If there's a new blog here, you'll know that things went well and I was able to post it. And if not?

Well, then go looking for me in Charlotte, North Carolina. Because, you know, that's how things work these days.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 9/1

 For once in my life, maybe I need to be MORE optimistic about something.

As those of you who read this on a regular basis know, I'm an optimist. I always see the bright side of things, and am eternally hopeful about things. That's why I was kind of surprised when I went running this morning. I went on my Wednesday run; yes, I run different routes on different days. And as I was running through Shiras Park, two thoughts hit me, the first being that because we're going downstate and because of a meeting I have when we get back I won't be doing this particular route for another two weeks; September 15^th, to be specific.

The other thought? That the next time I do my Wednesday run through Shiras Park the leaves that are now bright green probably won't be so bright or so green.

I don't know why that thought popped into my head. Like I said, I don't usually dwell on the negative side of things. But there was just something so filled with finality in that stupid thought that my mind went where it usually doesn't go. It went to the dark side. And it was weird.

The funny thing about it is that it really is an accurate statement. I won't be in that park for another two weeks, and by then leaves will probably have started to change. They won't be dead or off the trees or anything, but unless something really strange occurs they will have begun their final journey. And maybe that's what blew my mind—we have gotten to the point of the summer that was way too short where we know it's about to end. We can look at a calendar or glance at tree leaves and know that there are only a handful of days left before a drastic change comes over our lives.

Go ahead. Just call me Mr. Happy Sunshine, or something.

I'm pretty sure these weird feeling stem from this—the busy summer I (and we) have been through (and that I've been whining about incessantly in here) has not really recharged my batteries. I thought I had made the most of it, but now that the sun sets sooner and it doesn't rise quite as high in the sky as it does in June & July maybe I've come to realize that I won't be able to accumulate any more fun in the summer sun that's required to then face an Upper Michigan winter (with an adjoining fall & spring that often mimic winter). But the thought that the leaves will be changing next time I run through one of my favorite parks just blew my mind.

And maybe that's why, for once, I wasn't able to look on the bright side of things. Let's just hope it doesn't happen again.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com), aka Mr Happy Sunshine