Tuesday, 11/30

Sad to say, if I do have a guilty pleasure food, is might very well be cornbread.

Yesterday, I had mentioned that one of the items we threw in our Thanksgiving dish was cornbread stuffing, and that caused one of you to drop me a note mentioning that I don't really seem like a cornbread type of individual. But it's true; it's one of those dark secrets about me that seems to sneak out every so often.

Even though it's not the best food for you, I really do like cornbread, whether it's fresh or in stuffing.

If you've read these over the years, you know I try to avoid fast foods, overly processed foods, and foods that aren't really “foods”, foods that are just made up of chemicals and additives and shaped to look like “food”. Even the “bad' things I eat, like chocolate, are the “good” versions of the food (you know, dark chocolate instead of milk chocolate).

But not necessarily cornbread.

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

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

Anyway, I've been getting the cornbread from one of grocery stores on and off and I did something I probably shouldn't have. I read the ingredients list they stuck on the back of the container, and I noticed that instead of sugar the store uses high fructose corn syrup, which is something I try to avoid at all costs. So I had to live without cornbread from that particular store.

Luckily, there's another grocery store that sells cornbread they make in-house. They make theirs with sugar, which obviously meant that I had to buy it and try it out, just to see if it was any different than the cornbread I'd previously been eating. A larger than usual (gulp) one pound container of calories later I was totally satisfied, not only by the cornbread but by the fact that it had real sugar in it. Sure, I had just eaten around 2,000 calories, but at least those calories didn't include high fructose corn syrup.

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

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

It's just a guilty pleasure.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 11/29

Have you started to eat again yet?

It’s funny, but every year after Thanksgiving dinner I always swear that I’m never gonna eat another morsel of food again, for as long as I live. You may know someone like that, as well. And if that someone is like me, the promise lasts until, oh, the morning after Thanksgiving, when all of a sudden and for no reason you find yourself poking around your refrigerator and coming across a slab of leftover turkey, a slab that calls out to you like a Lorelei beckoning an unsuspecting sailor. And like that Lorelei, it lures you in without you even realizing it, until it dawns upon you that you just consumed two sandwiches after swearing off food forever.

Or is that just me?

Actually, it wasn't just a slab of leftover turkey that made me swear off swearing off eating. For the second year in a row (thanks, Covid) family ended up scattered all across the country and Loraine and I celebrated Thanksgiving alone. So for the second year in a row I made what we're calling the “Thanksgiving Casserole”, something that ended up so amazingly amazing that I don't mind eating again after swearing not to eat forever.

The night before Thanksgiving, I roasted a turkey breast slathered in rosemary butter. I also made a home made cranberry sauce infused with Grand Marnier. Then on Thanksgiving, I took those two things, added a couple of cups of cornbread stuffing and fresh spinach, and tossed it all in a lasagna dish. I topped it with an entire bag of chopped pistachios, baked it for half an hour, and then devoured so much of the way too rich,  way too gooey, and way too calorie-laden dish that I swore off eating again.

Of course, we all know how that turned out.

I had a “Weird Fact of the Day” last week that the average American expects to gain eight pounds between Thanksgiving and New Year's Day, a number that struck me as kind of high (after all, that's almost 2 pounds—or an extra 7,000 calories—a week). But after chowing down on that casserole for several days until it was all gone, I'm starting to reconsider that number. Maybe the people who answered the survey were right.

And if they were...well, then I really AM never going to eat again.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 11/26

Hope you had a great Thanksgiving. In the spirit of trying to recover from the holiday here's something I wrote a couple of years ago. It seems kind of appropriate for today.

Back with something new Monday!

(jim@wmqt.com)

****

So...sick of turkey yet?

I know most of you may be thinking to yourself, “Turkey? TURKEY? I hope I never see one of those perpetual leftover machines AGAIN”. But not me. For some reason, cold, leftover turkey is one of my favorite foods of all time. It’s low in fat and high in protein, and for some reason, I think the taste of cold turkey on whole wheat bread (with just a touch of Dijon mustard) is one of the best things on the face of the Earth.

But like I said, I know that YOU may not feel the same way about leftover turkey, especially in the next few days, when you may have been dealing with said leftovers for most of the weekend. So, in light of that, and knowing that you may soon be running out of ideas on what to do with the eight pounds of it still sitting in your fridge, here’s a list I came up with a couple of years ago, a list of everything you may not have tried yet with your leftovers (or, at least, everything I could think of a span of about 15 seconds). Here we go--

Turkey chili

Turkey tacos

Turkey pot pies

Turkey pasties

Turkey casserole

Turkey croquets

Turkey canapés

Turkey jerky

Turkey latte

Turkey nog

Turkey & cranberry smoothies

Turkey bread

Turkey granola

German turkey cake

Turkey and dark chocolate cookies

Turkey & sweet potato jam

Home-made turkey Pop Tarts

And. . .

Frozen turkey doorstops.

There. Now don’t say I never do anything for you.

Wednesday, 11/24

I'm sure there's something to be thankful for this year, right?

First of all, just let me say that there really IS a lot to be thankful for if you're doing the simple act of reading this. That means that, at a minimum, you have your health, you have an internet connection, and you have a passing interest in what's going on in the outside world. And I really DO subscribe to the theory that as long as you wake up in the morning you have something for which to be thankful.

Looking at it that way, there is a lot to be thankful for this year.

However, what with is being the 23^rd month of 2020 you can also make the argument that there isn't a whole lot to be thankful for this year. Here in Michigan Covid numbers are higher than they've ever been, even though science tells us how to being them down. The partisan divide between Americans seems to be growing instead of shrinking. The gap between the haves and the have-nots is bigger than it's ever been. And on a daily basis we see just how much we've effed up our planet's climate.

So, if you're one of those people who thinks there isn't a lot for which to be thankful, I will grant you every single fiber of your opinion. If you look at the today of here and now, you can make a (strong) case that there isn't anything for which to be thankful.

But...we also live in a wondrous time. Unlike a century ago, when a deadly plague rolls around the planet we figured how we can stop it (even if not everyone seems to want to). Unlike a century ago, people can expect to live to see 100 instead of looking over their shoulder once they hit 55 or 65. Unlike a century ago, we can access family and friends across the planet with a device you can hold in your hand. And unlike a century ago, we can look at the night sky and wonder in awe at the fact that (as I write this) there are seven people living and working in a space station in earth orbit.

While it seems like there may not be a lot for which to be thankful this year, especially in the here and now, sometimes it can work wonders for your mental health to step back, at least in a metaphysical sense, and look at the big picture. Even with all the crap that's going on, crap that seems to expand exponentially on an almost daily basis, you really CAN make the case that there is a lot for which you can be thankful, even as we head into the 24^th month of a year most of us would like to forget.

Have a great Thanksgiving. Try not to eat too much!!

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 11/23

You know how Marquette County was built on the mining of natural resources? How even today we have working iron ore & nickel mines? Well, I have another natural resource Marquette County could export, if we so choose--

Goose poop.

Okay; I realize that there may not be much of a market for goose crap out there, but we sure seem to have a surplus of it everywhere. And this year, for some reason, it seems to be even worse. You can walk anywhere along Marquette's lake shore or Washington Street bike paths, and spend most of your time dodging those little pieces of, uhm, stuff. And forget about trying to play soccer in Marquette's Lower Harbor Park, NMU's practice field out by the Dome, or even out at the Kaufman Sports Complex, a place that usually HAS no goose poop but for some reason this past weekend had loads of it. Loraine & I went out to play there Saturday and ended up having to wipe off the balls with sanitizer wipes after we finished. And, a few days later, we still have dried up goose crap stuck in our shoes.

It's glorious. It really is.

Marquette's had goose problems before. That's to be expected when you live on a huge lake (with lots of little ponds around) underneath a goose migration path. So we've had to deal with goose waste before. But as I previously mention, I don't think I've ever seen as much crap lying around as I have this fall. I don't know if there are just simply more geese using Marquette as a roadside rest area, or if the poop just hasn't been cleaned up as much as before, but it seems like it's everywhere.

It's a crappy situation to have.

If you don't believe me, just go down to Lower Harbor Park. It looks all nice & green and like a fun place to play. But as soon as you start walking on the grass, look down. Do it for two reasons—one, to be amazed at how almost every single inch of that nice green grass is actually nice & green because that's the color of the goose stuff covering it. And also do it so you don't spend the next ten minutes trying to get goose poop out of your shoes which, trust me, is an exercise in futility.

You know what? On second thought, DON'T go down to Lower Harbor Park. I like you guys too much to subject you to that crap. Maybe wait until, I dunno, spring. Maybe it'll be gone by then.

Like I said, I wish I knew why there's an marked increase in goose poop around Marquette this year. I wish it would go away; however, I have the feeling it's only going to get worse. That's why it would be nice if there was a market for it somewhere, maybe as fertilizer. Not only would it continue Marquette County's legacy as a provider of natural resources, but it would also allow those of us who like to play outside with a chance to do so, free of shoes that still carry a reminder of the bird's legacies days after the event.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 11/22

No wonder people think I’m weird.

I mean, it’s not like I don’t give them a lot of ammunition, right? Especially when you consider some of the questions that pop into my head, and what happens when I try to answer them.

The question this time around was about a classic music album; The Eagles “Hotel California”, to be specific. The anniversary of the album's release is coming up, and I needed to find the exact date for an upcoming “Upper Michigan's Favorite Friday”. But as happens so often. I got sucked down the Wikipedia rabbit hole and something I discovered has stayed in my noggin since.

Perhaps my three favorite albums of the 1970s were “Hotel California”, Steely Dan’s “Aja”, and Fleetwood Mac’s “Rumours”, all classic albums, and all ones that I still listen to today. My favorite movie of the 1970s, without a doubt, was the original “Star Wars”. So when I was perusing Wikipedia to find the answer to “Hotel California”'s exact release date (December 8^th, 1976, if you're curious) I was stunned to also come across the list of the five Grammy nominees for album of the year in 1977. Those nominees?

-The Eagles’ “Hotel California”

-Fleetwood Mac’s “Rumours”

-Steely Dan’s “Aja”

-John Williams’ “Soundtrack to ‘Star Wars”.

--And James Taylor’s “JT”.

Several thoughts flew threw my head when coming across the list, the first being that I’m sure there was never as strong a list of nominees for album of the year as in 1977. I mean, think of it—there are years when the Grammys have trouble coming up with one album good enough win be called a “classic”, let along four (with no offense to James Taylor). How can you choose from among the four? I mean, Grammy voters did, giving the statue to “Rumours”, but that’s almost a Sophie’s Choice as far as music lovers go.

The second thought? I know everyone always says that music from the 70s sucked, thanks mostly to disco and bubblegum, but growing up in that decade I (obviously) had my musical influences shaped by what I heard. And if you have to grow up listening to music, songs from “Hotel California” and “Rumours” and “Aja” are among the best choices you could have. I know; I’m sure people who grew up in the 90s think Nirvana’s “Nevermind” was the pinnacle of music, just as people growing up today would think that, uhm, BTS is the pinnacle of music, but I think anyone would have to admit that those three albums from ’77 are good.

And to think that they were all released in the same 12-month span (October 1976 to October 1977 was the eligibility period for the award). I’m sure people probably didn’t appreciate it back then, but now it just boggles the mind, or at least boggles MY mind, that they all grew out of one 12 month period.

Who knew?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 11/19

Why do I torture myself this way on the weekends?

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

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

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

Please say “right”.

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

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

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

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

8-)

One final thing--some day, I may get to use my French in a place where the language is spoken, and my partner in all those travels has a big day coming up Sunday.  That's right--the most amazing woman in the world is celebrating the anniversary of her world premiere this weekend.

Happy birthday, Loraine!

Love,

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 11/18

I would not have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes.

I walked to a nearby store recently and as I was about a block away I noticed a woman getting to a car about halfway between me and the store. As I walked passed the car, it was pulling out of the driveway. And when I finally got to the store, so did the car that had just pulled out of the driveway.

That’s right. Someone got into their car to drive half a block to the store.

The individual walked into the store behind me, and as far as I could tell, just picked up a bottle of Diet Coke. I checked out first, and started my walk home. As I walked passed the driveway from which the car came, I turned around, and noticed the driver getting back into the car. And when I got to the end of the block, I turned around again, and noticed the driver had pulled into their driveway and was leaving their car with their bottle of Diet Coke.

They drove their car half a block to the store to get a bottle of Diet Coke.

I can’t say I’m particularly shocked by the whole incident, for a couple of reasons. The first is based on a statistic I read. Now, I don’t know if this statistic is factual, because it kind of blows my mind if it is, but the statistic says the average American only walks about 400 yards--a quarter of a mile--a day. That’s it. That’s, like, just over 1,000 steps for the average person, and that’s nothing. Heck, for me, that’s just walking to work one way. But supposedly, that’s as far as the average American walks on an average day.

And who knows; maybe the statistic is right. The other reason the whole situation didn’t surprise me is that Loraine and I often get comments from people who say they see us out walking here or there, and those comments are often tinged with an unspoken “WHY do we see you out walking?”, like it’s an unnatural state of affairs that we walk the four blocks to work or the store instead of driving there. So if we get those unspoken comments from people based on the fact that we walk, maybe we really ARE freaky in that respect. Maybe we really ARE freaky because we don’t drive a half a block to the store.

But I’m okay with that.

Now, I don’t know the background of the person I saw driving half a block to the store to buy a bottle of Diet Coke. Maybe the person has a physical disability or something else that makes walking hard. That could be. But it didn’t seem like they had any difficulty getting into or out of their car, and they sure seemed to be fine when picking up their Diet Coke. So if I had to guess--and this is, of course, just a guess--they didn’t need to drive half a block to the store because of a physical problem.

They drove a half a block to the store because they chose to drive half a block to the store.

I know Americans are both in love with their cars and very averse to exercise, but wasn’t this a bit much? I mean, in the time it took this person to get into their car, drive the half block, park it, go into the store, and then head back home, I was able to cover the same distance AND throw an extra half block each way for good measure. What I’m saying is that it took them more time to drive the half block to and from the store than it did for me to cover the same distance on foot. And I did it without wear and tear on a car, and the cost of gas and of air pollution. Not only that, I got some exercise out of it, as well.

There are times when I really don’t understand why some people do the things they do. And that drive to convenience store was one of those times.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 11/17

Why yes, I HAVE lost my mind.

Thanks for asking.

I know I've been writing in here a lot recently about how I seem to take on too many things. Radio Jim is trying to keep three stations on the air, TV Jim is in the middle of shooting “High School Bowl”, and History Jim keeps thinking of more & more things to do. Well, the schedule of stuff I'm doing for the History Center for next year has been finalized, and all I have to say is this--

I REALLY need to stop thinking of more & more things to do.

In no particular order, here's what I've volunteered to take on in 2022--

-A live Kaufman show with Jack in January, the first we've done since the Before Times

-Two scheduled walking tours,.including one that I have to develop from scratch

-Whatever number of “Pop-Up” tours (of stuff I've already done) I feel like doing

-Half a dozen newspaper articles

-A (probably) vain attempt to try and finish the “The Greasier The Spoon” documentary I've been working for over a year

-And...another set of the “Pieces of the Past” short video series (and, as we discussed last week, with all those experts on some of them, which means even more work than just me doing them)

All that is on top of what Radio Jim and TV Jim are doing (which is a lot to begin with). I'd like to say I've learned, over the years, how to say “no” and how not to take on too many things at once, but I think we both know me well enough now to know that's never gonna happen. But what the heck...

You only live once, right?

Now before you think I'm complaining and/or panicking over everything, don't worry. I'm not. I actually enjoy doing each and every thing on that list. I am looking forward to doing each and every thing on that list. And, thanks to our favorite word of the past month “re-purposing”, I'll be able to, on several occasions, kill several birds with one stone when I reuse material from one project in another. But still, when you put the list down to paper (or type it out on a computer monitor) and look at it, you gotta wonder what kind of sane person would commit to all that.

Yet, as far as I know, I still have complete control of my mental facilities. Or at least as much control as I ever had.

So over the next year don't be surprised if you see material in one medium, hear it in another, and read it in a third (and maybe even a fourth). That'll just be me, trying to wring every single paragraph, sentence, and comma I can out of the work upon which I've embarked.

Embarked upon, of course, with as much of my mind as I have left.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 11/16

I really don't have anything against the Detroit Lions. It's just that they make it so darn easy to make fun of them!

On occasion, I will crack wise on the air about the legendary ineptitude of the NFL team. One, I do it because they're such an easy target. B, I also do it because I was raised a Lions fan, and I'm obviously still working through all kinds of psyche-scarring issues related to that. So it's probably not too surprising that I'll make fun of them in any number of ways.

The latest comes courtesy of our ongoing “Upper Michigan's Favorite Friday” feature this week. For those of you who don't know, that's when we try to figure out Upper Michigan's favorite song by a particular artist or the favorite song related to a certain theme. Well, with Thanksgiving coming up, a day on which the Lions always play, I decided to use that as a basis to have our listeners figure out Upper Michigan's favorite song about losing.

Because, after all, that's probably what the Lions will indeed be doing on that day.

Since the promos started airing last Friday night I've had several people comment on them, mostly in a positive way and mostly after the Lions actually didn't lose this past Sunday (it was, perhaps, the ugliest tie in NFL history, which means they still haven't won). However, I also did hear from one individual who did indeed wonder exactly what I have against his favorite football team, and I had to answer that other than the years of heart-break I suffered while a fan and the almost high-school level at which they occasionally play I have nothing against them.

They're just such an easy target I can't help myself.

However, to the one person who did take exception with my poking fun at the only NFL team founded before 1970 that has yet to be in a Super Bowl (which says something right there) I offer as consolation one of the “losing” songs we'll be featuring this Friday, Tom Petty's “Even the Losers”, which has as the line following the title “get lucky some times”. So there—the Lions may suck now, and they may suck into the foreseeable future, but there's always hope.

Even Tom Petty says so. We'll just have to see how things turn out this week on “Upper Michigan's Favorite Friday” and how things go on Thanksgiving (and beyond) for the one NFL team that continually and constantly makes it so easy to make fun of them.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 11/15

It's a tradition. I have no choice in the matter.

First of all, welcome to the official UP national holiday, opening day of Michigan's firearm deer season. Whether you celebrate it or not it IS a big deal around here, as evidenced by the Instant Requests I was getting as far back as Thursday from people who were already heading out to their deer camp.

So even though I look it as a strange Yooper tradition, for many people it's a tradition that's a big deal.

In that vein, I wrote what could loosely be called a “poem” about the tradition back in 1999, 22 years ago (and as a side note—22 years??? Isn't it time I started looking for a real job??) I've been posting that “poem” every Opening Day Eve since then, and although—technically--it should have gone up yesterday, I don't feel as if I can buck tradition and not post it.

And I DO apologize for the very bad pun in that last sentence.

Since it's a tradition, here is that “poem”. If you actually are going out hunting, good luck, and stay safe. If you're agnostic regarding the holiday, that's okay, too. It's just one of those things that makes the UP such a unique place to live.

(jim@wmqt.com)

*****

“’Twas the Night Before Deer Camp”,

by Jimmy Koski, grade 3.

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE DEER SEASON

AND ALL THROUGH THE CAMP

HUNTERS WERE UNLOADED BEER CRATES

AND LIGHTING UP LAMPS

THE RIFLES THEY HUNG

IN THE PICKUP WITH CARE

IN HOPES THAT A 10-POINTER

SOON WOULD BE THERE

I IN MY ORANGE

MY BUDDY IN GREEN

SAT DOWN TO A CRIBBAGE GAME

THE BIGGEST EVER SEEN

WE PLAYED THROUGH THE NIGHT

AND EMPTIED THOSE CRATES

BUT MORNING SOON CAME

WE DIDN’T WANT TO BE LATE

WE SET OUT AT SUNRISE

AT DAWN’S EARLY LIGHT

PUT DOWN A BIG BAIT PILE

IN HOPES THAT BAMBI WOULD BITE

WE SAT AND WE WAITED

AND WAITED SOME MORE

I KEPT MY EYES OPEN

MY BUDDY STARTED TO SNORE

WHEN TO MY SURPRISE

STANDING RIGHT BY A TREE

WAS A BIG 12-POINT BUCK

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

I BROUGHT UP MY RIFLE

I LINED UP THE DEER

THEN MY BUDDY WOKE UP AND YELLED

“HEY--WHERE’S THE BEER?”

THE BUCK RAN AWAY

I LOWERED MY GUN

MY BUDDY JUST LAUGHED

SAID “LET’S HAVE SOME FUN”

WE WENT BACK TO DEER CAMP

AND HAD US A BALL

SO LET ME SAY THIS--

GOOD LUCK DEER HUNTING TO ALL...

(copyright 1999)

Friday, 11/12

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

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

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

That being said, here's how it's a different world than the one in which I grew up. It's my nephew Abel's birthday Sunday. I looked around a few stores to find a gift for him, a gift that would both appeal to a 5-year old and show off what a cool uncle he has. I tried to find him a spaceship. A rocket. Something that would show him about the wonders of space flight.

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

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

I was bummed.

In all honesty, I didn't know if I actually expected to find any; after all, the US is just getting back into the business of flying humans into space after an almost eight-year hiatus. And I know that rockets and spaceflight aren't as magical to kids as they were to kids back when I was young (you know, the last century). So I wasn't totally surprised by what I found (or didn't find). But still—spaceflight is one of humankind's great, defining technical achievements.

Shouldn't kids know about that?

I guess I'll just have to make sure he understands what a big deal it was (and is) as he gets older. But for now, I hope he enjoys what I did get for him. And I hope his mom & dad don't get TOO upset if he tries some of the idea contained within that gift.

But what are uncles for right?

8-)

Speaking of the birthday boy (and showing how he comes from the Koski family school of picture posing)--

Happy (almost) birthday, Abel!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 11/11

Sure, today's a day off for a lot of people.  But do you know exactly why?

It's Veterans Day here in the US, but in Europe it's a little more. Today also marks the 103^th anniversary of the end of World War I, “The Great War” and “The War to End All Wars”, names given by people who obviously didn't realize that history DOES repeat itself, and often in more gruesome forms. I think the end of the war is a bigger deal over there than it is here, but it really shouldn't be. Hundreds of thousands of Americans died in the conflict, and memories of them are now few and far between.

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 11/10

For me, personally, I think it’s a little too soon.

I’ve been in three different Marquette stores over the past three days, and in each and every one of them Christmas music was being played. I heard Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas” in each of the stores, I heard different versions of “Santa Claus is Coming To Town” in each of the stores, and in one of the stores in particular—I won't mention them by name, because (normally) I like shopping there--I heard two different versions of “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” played within 20 minutes of each other.

I mean, I know these stores are trying to get people into the holiday mood so they’ll spend their holiday money with them. But we just finished Halloween. The temperatures have been at or near the 60s the past few days. A lot of the trees around here still have their leaves (and are, in some cases, still green). Is it really time to start laying on the Christmas music and the Christmas sales and the Christmas mood, even before Thanksgiving? Don’t we deserve a little bit of a break between, say, Halloween and Turkey Day? I mean, if you start playing Christmas music almost two months before Christmas, doesn’t that rob the music of some of its special power, especially as we get closer to the holiday but find ourselves increasing sick of the tunes? I like Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas”—I really do--but if I’ve heard it three times in the last three days, a span of three days a month and a half before the holiday itself, how many times am I gonna hear it before the holidays are done? And how soon will it be before I don’t wanna hear it again?

Like I said, maybe it’s me. I know there are people out there who just love Christmas music, and who can’t get enough of it, holiday or not. There are even radio stations around the country (including two in Marquette) that start playing Christmas music (and nothing but Christmas music) in late September or early October, and will get some pretty good ratings because of it. But does it really make sense to start listening to (or being forced to listen to) Christmas music when you’re still wondering what to do with the rest of your kid's Halloween stash, or what you might make for Thanksgiving dinner?

I dunno; I don’t get it. But this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been out of the ordinary about stuff like this. Maybe it is normal or practical or fun to listen to Christmas music two or three months before the holiday. Maybe it is normal or practical or fun to listen to Christmas music while you’re in a store two or three months before the holiday. Maybe it drives sales up; maybe it puts people in a good mood. So maybe I’m the outlier here. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened, and it certainly won’t be the last.

All I know is that, for me, the Christmas music can sit on the shelf just a little while longer.

****

By the way, don't believe me when I say that most of our trees up here still have leaves and are partially green? Here's a picture taken yesterday at 1:54 pm--

Yup; that's how Marquette now looks in mid-November in a post climate-change world. I have a feeling that people who grew up here 50 or 100 years ago would be stunned.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 11/9

 All in all, I think it's kinda cool.

I've written in here before about the TV show “Joe Pera Talks With You”, a late-night Adult Swim series that's set in Marquette. What I haven't written about yet is that last winter the producers of the show were scanning the Marquette Regional History Center website and came across the “Pieces of the Past” videos I make. One evening soon afterwards I found myself on the phone with Joe and one of his writers, telling them stories about all the churches that have burned down in Marquette's history.

Those stories ended up in the episode that aired Sunday night.

Not only did my stories end up in the episode but so did a bunch of History Center pictures, and local photographer Steve Lindberg had one of his pictures of a three-antlered deer turned into a minor plot point during the show.

How cool is that?

If you've never heard of the show or have never seen it, don't worry. It airs at 12:30 on Sunday night (or, more to the point, Monday morning) on the Cartoon Network and it's a very...peculiar show. It's a comedy but it's usually not that funny. It is, however, quite touching. It's a very laid-back show; Joe Pera himself says he doesn't mind if people use it to help them sleep. It's just a quirky little gem that has the added benefit of being set in (and occasionally shot in) Marquette.

And that's the best reason to check it out.

I'd recommend starting from the beginning, if you can. The episode from Sunday night has several characters and story-lines that go back to last season (which aired two years ago) and the show is off-kilter enough as it is without someone going into it not knowing just what the heck has happened in the past. Unless, of course, you just want to see the pictures of churches burning and hear Joe's character talk about the stories that I shared.

Then, by all means, go ahead and watch. And who knows—maybe the quirkiness will rub off on you.

I've written in here a lot the past year or two about just how many bizarre things seem to keep happening in my life, but never did I think it would manifest itself in this way. I'm just glad I came up with some information, passed it along to some very creative people, and had it turn out the way it did.

Check it out for yourself  (and be aware you may need to tell them to which cable company or TV provider you subscribe).

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 11/8

Hey, spell check. You trying to tell me something?

First of all, I had a very nice three-day weekend, thanks for asking. Friday I shot a TV show and then spent the afternoon baking Christmas cookies at my parents, so they could freeze them and take them down to Florida with them. Then between a very mild weekend and a few other things I spent most of the rest of the time playing outside.

Add 20 degrees to the very mild weekend and it would have been a PERFECT three day weekend.

But now, back to spell check. Whenever I type—be it emails, scripts, or even these blogs—I type very quickly, just letting the words flow out of (what passes for) my brain. But because I type very quickly and because I only use four to six fingers while typing (much to Loraine's eternal consternation) I often make mistakes. I'll hit the wrong key, I'll hit the right key twice, and I'll (on occasion) leave out entire words.

Well, I really don't have to tell YOU that, do I? After all, you read these every day and quite often see the results of my typing style.

Anyway, while quickly typing something over the weekend I managed to spell my last name wrong. That's not uncommon; like I said, I often do that (in fact, while typing this sentence I spelled “often” “foten”). When I tried to type “Koski” it came out “Koksi”. I was typing it on a machine that I haven't used that much, which means that the spell-check dictionary on that particular machine didn't know there's an actual name spelled “Koski”. So when I right-clicked on “Koksi” to correct my mistake what word did that computer's spell-check decide should be its replacement?

How about “sicko”? Yup...even though I don't use that machine much it apparently knows a thing or two, doesn't it?

8-)

I mean, I guess I can see the logic behind it. “Koksi” does have four of the five letters of “sicko”, if only in a different order, and maybe the computer just thought I wanted to play a game of Word Jumble. Needless to say, I added “Koski” into the dictionary of that particular machine, so the next time I make a mistake typing—which we all know I will do--”sicko” will NOT be a suggestion if my fingers mis-spell my last name.

Even if “sicko” might be one of the most appropriate choices the computer could make.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 11/4

Much like the $50 in free stuff I wrote about earlier this week from Kohl's “Bowl's”, it's the gift that keeps on giving.

In February I spent a half an hour at the History Center researching one of the video shorts that I made earlier this year. That half an hour has now netted me the video, a radio bit based on it, a newspaper article based on it, and now, a blog based on it

Don't say I never take a good idea and run it into the ground.

The actual phrase is, of course, “re-purposing”, a term we've discussed in here before. But it's a cool story, and if, by sharing it over a variety of media, I've helped spread it even a little more, then that half an hour I spent back at the History Center in February was worth it.

Of course, I also have an ulterior motive it, too. I'm taking tomorrow off, giving myself a long (non-traveling) weekend for the first time since June, and I have a lot of work to do to make sure it comes off. So if I save a few minutes by turning the newspaper article that appeared in the Mining Journal yesterday into a blog today, what's the harm? Especially because you'll be getting to see a picture that was cropped in the newspaper article full sized.

No, that's okay. You're welcome.

So without further ado, here 'tis. Have yourself a great weekend, too, be it two days or three days or more!

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—don't forget “High School Bowl” is back Saturday night at 8 on WNMU-TV!)

*****

It's not very often that a city has a scent associated with it, but if Marquette did indeed have an official smell, there are several possibilities—one might choose the smell of Lake Superior early in the morning. People who lived in North Marquette between 1905 and 1970 might claim it would be the odor that came from the Cliffs Dow Plant.

But for several generations of residents across a wide swath of the city that smell would probably have to be the smell of freshly baking bread that emanated from the Our Own Bakery

For many years just colloquially called “The Bunny Bread Bakery”, this facility on Washington Street was owned by several different companies and produced several different lines of bread during the seven decades it operated. But the one thing it produced no matter what the year or no matter who the owner was the smell of fresh baked bread that emanated from the place. Depending upon which way the wind blew, you could catch a whiff over a large swath of the city, a scent that gave Marquette a smell unlike any other.

In 1925 a group of Upper Michigan grocers opened the Merchants Wholesale Bakery in the Soo, in order to provide fresh breads and rolls to their stores. However, the need soon arose for a bakery that was more centrally located in the Peninsula, so in December of 1936 the second Merchants Wholesale Bakery was opened at the corner of Washington and Lincoln in Marquette.

About that same time, three brothers from Illinois--Amos, Arnold, and Jack Lewis--opened their own bakery in their home town and decided to begin manufacturing their own brand of bread.

That brand--Bunny Bread--soon became synonymous with the Merchants Wholesale Bakery in Marquette.

The Marquette bakery--officially renamed the Our Own Bakery in the mid 1950s--was one of the main production facilities for Bunny Bread for over 30 years. In fact, most area residents just called it "The Bunny Bread Bakery", a name that was definitely helped by the sight of a giant neon bunny on the east side of the plant, whose ears could be seen moving back & forth whenever it was lit up.

Picture from "Marquette Mirror" courtesy Marquette Regional History Center

At its peak, the Our Own Bakery employed 150 bakers, drivers, and maintenance workers. And during those peak years it baked and shipped Bunny Bread bread and buns throughout the Upper Midwest. The plant even won the coveted American Bakeries Co-op “Golden Loaf Award” four years in a row in the 50s for the quality of its Bunny Bread products.

The breads and rolls that were produced at Marquette's Our Own Bakery were also backed up by one of the catchiest ad jingles of the 1950s and 1960s. In fact, if you were to ask people around during that era to finish the phrase that began with "That's what I said...", it's most likely many of them would finish it by saying "Bunny Bread".

The bakery produced Bunny Bread until the late 1970s when it was sold to Heilman Bakeries, and the Bunny Bread brand began to fade away. Other product lines began to be manufactured in Marquette, although the iconic neon Bunny Bread sign on the side of the building remained. That was eventually taken down, where it now has a place of honor in the entryway of the UP Children's Museum.

The bakery was eventually sold again, this time to national chain Sara Lee, which produced and shipped its eponymous products around the upper Midwest. By the mid 2000s employment at the plant dropped down to 80 workers, and it produced its final loaves on June 27^th, 2009...the final time anyone could catch a whiff of the “Official Smell of the City of Marquette”.

Wednesday, 11/3

 I don't think I'm ready for it.

For those of you who don't know, here's what we woke up yesterday in Marquette--

That's downtown, right across the street from the station and just a couple of blocks from the (relatively) warm Lake Superior. There was a whole lot more snow just half a mile from where I took the picture. I shouldn't be shocked it happened; this is actually one of the later dates for the first snowfall in quite a few years, and we've been lucky in that respect.

But still—I am so not ready for winter.

I don't know what it is, but I look less and less forward to winter every year. Keep in mind that I never actually ever looked forward to winter; I don't know if anyone in their right mind would. But at least I accepted the fact that it's going to happen, whether I want it to or not. But that's getting harder and harder to do. The more I come to appreciate summer and sun and warmth the less I come to tolerate snow & cold, even if it means I can cross-country ski and snowshoe for a couple of weeks or months.

Or, in the case of our mild winter last year, I get to ski once.  Just once.

As I may have mentioned, we've been spoiled with an absolutely gorgeous fall so far, as evidenced, perhaps, by another picture I took just this past Saturday--

Yup. Sixty degrees and mostly sunny and with leaves ablaze on October 30^th. That's how spoiled we've been this fall.

Thankfully, what I pictured in the first picture has now disappeared, and by this weekend we should be back in the 50s. But if nothing else, it served as a reminder as to what we can soon expect.

Whether we're ready for it or not.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 11/2

Not that I'm complaining...but is this how capitalism is supposed to work?

Let me explain. A couple of weeks ago I went to a store. For the sake or argument let's call it, oh, “Bowl's”. I bought a suit jacket and a couple of shirts & ties because TV Jim needed them. When I paid for everything at “Bowl's” they gave me a slip that would allow me to spend 50 dollars with the company at a later date. So this past weekend I went on the “Bowl's” website where I was indeed able to pick up a pair of noise canceling headphones for free (although I did pay for shipping). After the order, “Bowl's” then sent me an e-mail saying I now had another 10 dollars to spend with them,

So correct me if I'm wrong, but “Bowl's” gave me a shot at getting free stuff from them just because I got some free stuff from them. Isn't capitalism wonderful?

8-)

Now, I'm not an economic expert, nor do I play one on TV, but just how do you make money from something like that? I mean, I realize it actually has to do with loss leaders and mark-ups and profit margins, but just how do you make money by, basically, giving people stuff like that? And it gets even stranger when you consider this—I paid for the original stuff with a credit card. I get points for buying something at “Bowl's”, and I could redeem those points for a ”Bowl's” gift card, should I choose, which makes it another way that I could get more free stuff at “Bowl's” just because I've already gotten free stuff at “Bowl's”.

As I mentioned, I'm not complaining. I really like “Bowl's” as a store, and I'd shop there even if I didn't get free stuff from them just because, you know, I got some other free stuff from them to begin with. And I realize two things—that isn't actually “free” stuff (much like airline miles aren't “free” but a cost built into your ticket). And I also know that this is all (probably) an insidious scheme to make me go back to “Bowl's” and buy even more stuff. But each time I buy something they give me more free stuff, and then they give me more free stuff just for getting the free stuff.

Like I said, I'm not an economic expert, but shouldn't things get to the point where this because economically unsustainable? Either that, or I'm just overlooking something here, which wouldn't be a surprise because, as we all know, I have absolutely no interest and/or ability in the field of business.

All I know is that I'm getting free stuff just because I already got some free stuff. And I'm actually okay with that.

******

Before I leave, I have to wish my favorite brother in the whole wide world a happy birthday! Now, he's my only brother in the whole wide world, so I'm probably contractually obligated to say that. But nonetheless, I hope Marc has a great day despite everything that's going on. Marc—hope Tiffanie and the boys spoil you rotten.

You deserve it!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 11/1

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

I tell you; it's not easy being me sometimes. As those of you who read this on a regular basis know my mind sometimes does stuff that defies logic and/or reality. There are days or times when I don't seem to have any control over it (my mind, that is), and that once again became apparent when I was going through the list of what I still need to buy for the the main course I'll be making for Loraine and me on Thanksgiving. I've been picking up things over the past week or two and slowly but surely crossing things off that list. One of the things still on my hand-written list?

Pistache

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

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

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

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

Anyway, “pistachio” is now written on my list of things yet to buy, right next to the crossed-out French version of the word. However, given my track record of late, it wouldn't surprise me if I spent a big chuck of the day wandering around the grocery store in search of “pistaches”.

I just hope there's someone there who speaks French and can point me in the right direction.

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