Friday, 8/30

You know, sometimes I just think there’s too much crap in my brain.

You ever get that feeling? You ever try to remember the one thing you need to recall, only to find it crowded out of your mind by dozens of things you really don’t need to know at the moment, stupid things like Lady Gaga’s real name or the atomic number of vanadium? Sure, you remember those, but do you know where your cars keys are or what your ATM PIN number is?

Nope.

Loraine and I are of two different thoughts of mind regarding the lack of thoughts in my mind. I often joke that I’m just getting old; after all, that’s what old people do, right? They forget things. Well, they eat dinner at 4 pm and wear black socks with shorts and sandals, but mostly they forget things. Loraine, thankfully, points out that I’m not THAT old (and would never be caught dead in black socks with shorts & sandals), and instead offers another suggestion--

That I just have too much crap in my mind, and that the stupid stuff is crowding out the important stuff.

She may have a point; I’ve joked over the past few years that I sure could use a RAM upgrade in my head. Think of it this way--my brain worked fine when I was just a younger, more carefree version of “me”. But now that I’m the semi-responsible, semi-adult version of “me”, one who actually has to care about and remember all kinds of details for all of the facets of my life (and trust me, there are a LOT of facets in my life, as you well know), there just isn’t enough room in my freakishly small head to remember the important facts.

I mean sure, I can remember Lady Gaga’s real name (Stefani Germanotta) and the atomic number of vanadium (23), but when I need to remember someone’s name, or try to recall something I was supposed to share with someone? Not so much.

I’m just 4 gigabytes of RAM in a 32 gigabyte world, I guess.

So if you ever see me walking down the street and I call you by the wrong name (something I do quite frequently, by the way), don’t take it personally. I’m just dealing with a slow processor these days.

8-)

Have a great holiday weekend!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 8/29

I have not one but two appointments this morning, which means that I need to get my butt in gear, which means that you get to read something you may have read before. I mean, I wrote in 2016, so you may not even remember it (heck, I hardly remembered it) but it's still apropos, if you know what I mean.

Back with something new to wrap the week up tomorrow!

(jim@wmqt.com)

******

(as originally posted August 14^th, 2016)

Kids these days.

I have a co-worker who's in his mid 20s. He was talking to a compatriot of his; she's in her mid 20s, as well, and they were discussing a couple of people they were both looking to interview. Since she's new to the area he was giving her a few pointers, which included this gem--

“They're in their early to mid 40s, which means they're on the cusp of being old”.

Yup. Kids these days.

I have to admit that my first reaction was to (literally) do a spit take. I was drinking tea and laughed so hard some shot out of my mouth. I couldn't help myself. And just so you know? Blueberry-acai tea is REALLY hard to get out of a white shirt.

My second reaction was what I assume anyone at or past their early to mid 40s would do or say, and that was to shake my head at the wonder of it all. I can't say this with any certainty, but something along those lines may have popped into my brain when I was in my mid 20s. Back then, I probably thought that anyone in the early to mid 40s was about to be old. And I was wrong. Really really wrong.

After all, when you get to be my age, you realize that it's actually people in their 60s or 70s who are really, really old.

That's a joke; after all, you're only as old as you feel. And I can see why someone in their 20s might feel like someone in their 40s is getting old. But I would also point out to people in their 20s that they themselves will one day be in their 40s—in fact, it'll happen much quicker than they think—and maybe they might want to modify what they're thinking.

Of course, there's no way anyone in their 20s would believe what I was saying. It's just one of those things you have to experience for yourself before you realize it's true. Maybe it's something you can't comprehend until you yourself have jumped over the cusp of being old.

Maybe.

I'm sure my friend has no idea that what he said was so funny, at least to me. But who knows—maybe, when he's in his early to mid 40s and on the “cusp” being old, he'll have an acquaintance who makes a comment like the one he made, and he can then sit there, shake his head, and mutter that wonderful phrase--

“Kids these days”. 

Wednesday, 8/28

I didn't know it was a tradition, but you know what?

We'll make it one.

I received a note from daily blog reader Holly in Marquette, who wondered where my flower pictures were. I wasn't quite sure of what she was speaking, so I sent her back a note asking for a little clarification. As it turns out, every summer Holly looks forward to seeing pictures I take of flowers as I wander around. I hadn't done it so far this year, if only because I haven't been out just wandering around much this year, but Holly's note provided the impetus for me to get out and take pictures.

Trust me. It wasn't much of a sacrifice on my part.

What did I see on my stroll? How about reds...

Yellows...

Pinks...

Purples...

More purples...

And a vivid mixture of several colors--

Heck. Even the wildflowers (& their friend a bee) got into the spirit of the thing...

So there you go, Holly. Your annual summer flower presentation. Next year, I'll do it without your prompting (he says optimistically). Thanks for the note!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 8/27

The thought of it kinda blows my mind.

As you know, I've been doing lots & lots of History Center stuff this summer. And after putting some notes away from an older person I spoke with regarding a tour I gave, I starting thinking (which, as we all know, can be a dangerous thing)—in 30 or 40 years, am I gonna be one of those old people who young people visit to listen to all their old stories about how Marquette “used to be” way back in the 1990s or the 2000s? And, if so, will my stories be of any interest to them, the way the stories I hear from old people (like the one with whom I spoke) are to me?

I don’t know why, but I’ve started thinking about that recently. One of the greatest resources that I, as a history buff (and occasional researcher) have found, are the memories and recollections of the people who actually lived through or made the history about which I’m interested. Sure, you can read about, say, the storm of 1938, but it really doesn’t come to life until you hear the story of a young man, then a student at Northern, who was stuck in his fraternity house because he couldn’t drive his car anywhere, yet found the inner strength to slap on snowshoes, trek four blocks through the cold, and buy a case of beer. 

Oh--and he did it three days in a row.

Now, to me, THAT’S the side of history you never get to read about in “official’ sources, and that, to me, is actually the most interesting side of history. That’s why, when Loraine goes to talk with people who knew the men & women she’s researching, I tag along, and see what I can find out about other important moments in local history. You never know when asking a person one question might trigger something that’s been buried deep down in their memory, just waiting for the right moment to pop back up to the surface.

What’s funny is that the people who share these anecdotes really don’t think they’re sharing anything worthwhile. They’re just telling stories of a few of the thousands of everyday incidents that make up their lives. To them, it’s just one of many things they’ve gone through in 60 or 70 or 80 years of living.  To me, though, it’s a vital part of local history.

And that’s what I’ve been thinking about recently. When I’m sitting in my hovercraft rocking chair in 2050, talking to a young person interested in what happened 40 or 50 years ago, which one of my little experiences—an experience which I’ve probably forgotten about even now, in 2024—will they find fascinating? Is there a small part of my life, which I groan about now, that will make them laugh? Have I taken part in some activity, or have I met some person that, years from now, will have as much of an impact on future generations as, say, the storm of 1938 has on me? Will I be able to tell the story of someone I know now, who then goes on to cure cancer, become the first person to walk on Mars, or who dies tragically in some future conflict?

I just hope that, in 30 or 40 years, I’m able to share as much information with anyone who’s young and interested as I’ve been able to gather from speaking with all these wonderful people over all these years. That, I guess, would be one way of “thanks” to them for everything they shared with me, back when I was young and interested.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 8/26

I'm not ready for summer to be over.

The rain of last week, the cool temperatures that have snuck in some nights, and the fact that I just typed “8/26” when starting this blog have added to the feeling I've been carrying around recently that my favorite time of the year is coming to a close. It's been an okay summer—a little wet & cool for my taste, and not enough in the way of extended heat waves, but that doesn't matter. It's still summer.

And now it's almost over.

If you're a weather professional, the season actually ends this Saturday, when “Meteorological Summer”, the months of June, July, & August wrap up. And that's how I usually think of summer, even though the three weeks of September before the actual equinox occurs can often be nicer than the beginning of June. However, there's just something about the high sun angle and the promise of warm days to come in June that you can't get in September, no matter how hard you try.

But...what are you gonna do, right?

I know there are plenty of people who are looking forward to the cooler days, the changing leaves, and the pumpkin spiced everything that mark the next few months. I don't begrudge them that at all. But for me, summer is an escape from reality. It's a time when I can head to the beach or jump on my bike and just mentally run away from everything.

Call it a character flaw on my part, but I, at least, can't do that when it's cold or snowy or pumpkin spiced. I just can't.

Hopefully, everything that I was able to get out of summer this year will help me get through to summer next year. Given everything I've been doing this summer, though I'm not 100% sure. Biu I am hopeful. Otherwise, come January or February get ready for me posting a lot of pictures of sun & leaves & blue skies and maybe, just maybe, a lot of whining about I'm soooooo ready for summer to begin.

Don't say you weren't forewarned.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 8/23

Okay...no big web change yet, so I'll actually write about something today, namely...

Do you realize just how amazing Marquette is?

I know; I've written about this a lot over the years. But it was once again brought home quite vividly Wednesday night when I was walking home from giving my pop-up "Walk on the Wild Side" tour (quite the success, by the way, with 40+ people showing up after we just announced it twice, including my dad, with whom I shared part of the walk). The tour finished at the History Center, and as I walked home I marveled a bit at how I was able to draw 40+ people, when you consider that as I strolled home I passed a jam-packed Wednesday night Farmer's Market and a jam-packed concert on the steps of the Peter White Public Library. All three of those events (plus sailboat races in Lower Harbor, a show at the Lake Superior Theatre, and more that I probably don't know about) were going on at the same time, and all of them had a crowd taking part and enjoying themselves.

That is so awesome.

I've often said that Marquette punches way above its weight in many different ways, and "things to do" certainly has to be near the top of the list. You can never says there's nothing to do in Marquette, as evidenced by everything that was occurring simultaneously Wednesday night. There are communities around the UP that put on events on a weekly or monthly basis; we do two or three or eight on a daily basis. And Wednesday was a perfect example of the sheer variety of what we do--a history walk, a market, an outdoor concert. If you're not interested in one, you're bound to be interested in another. And when you add to all that everything that you can do just by yourself--biking, kayaking, hiking, and just plain people watching...well, you can see what I mean when I say Marquette's an amazing place.

Because it really is.

So if you have the chance this weekend partake of any of the activities going on, from Harborfest to Books & Brews. And if you do so, realize that there aren't a lot of places of this size where you could partake in activities like that on a daily basis.

But Marquette not like a lot of other places. And that's just one of the reasons that it's such an amazing place.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 8/22

I'm not going to write much today because I don't know how many people will see it.

You see, we're in the midst of incorporating our website—wmqt.com—into the greater Eagle Radio site, which is keepitintheup.com. Whenever the change is made—if it hasn't been already—you'll still be able to access these ramblings, plus a whole lot of other stuff, by still typing in wmqt.com. You'll just be redirected to the new site. Or you can access them directly at keepitintheup.com.

Either way will work, but for those of you who've bookmarked the wmqt.com page or have the address memorized (something I haven't even done), you won't see anything any more. And that's why I'm keeping this short & simple. It'll take a day or two for everything to shake out & settle down, as with everything new. But once it's up & running, it should be just fine.  And even if you miss a day or two, you'll still be able to go back and read them all, just like you can now.

Unlike, say, all the on-air promos & sweepers that mention “wmqt.com” and only “wmqt.com”. I've been trying to find & replace them all, but there are so many hidden in all different little nooks & crannies that I have the feeling I still be find old ones a year from now.

Wish me luck. And have fun checking out the new site; as we plan on adding more & more stuff to it. Perhaps, even another way to (ahem) listen to these daily ramblings.

Hint hint.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com) 

Wednesday, 8/21

Oh, goodie. Now I get to experience it first hand.

Many times I've mentioned one of the joys of living & working in downtown Marquette; namely, the piles of vomit left by drunk college students (and others) as they try to make their way up the hills & back to their homes. They quite often don't make it, leaving their, uhm, “deposit” on stairs or inside entryways to businesses, where the stain can linger for the next couple of years.

Well, guess what we found in the doorway of the station yesterday morning?

And that's after we cleaned it up. So now, for the next year or two, when I walk into the station I'll involuntarily step over the stain, if only because I know what it used to be.

8-)

I'm actually in a way surprised. We've been here almost 22 years now, and this is the first time someone's barfed in our doorway. Based on the piles and the stains I see in other downtown doorways (or especially on the steps of the Peter White Public Library), I thought we would have been hit sooner. But we've been lucky, I guess. We're far enough away from bars to avoid the first round of puke, while we're not quite far enough up the hill for a little exercise to churn up whatever's in the stomach of those who may have had a little too much.

But, I guess, it had to happen sometime. So if you happen to visit us any time in the next, oh, year or two and happen to see weird stains right outside our front door, now you know why.

You're welcome.

****

Now that I've grossed you out enough for one day, don't forget that I'm doing a pop-up version of “Walk on the Wild Side: The Very Historic (Yet Occasionally Sketchy) Story of Founders Landing” tonight, should you be so inclined. We start at 630 at the History Center.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 8/20

That's okay.  I'll sleep when I'm dead.

Every so often, either Loraine or I will get a question about my schedule and whether or not I ever have any time off.  Rest assured, I do, but every so often (especially this summer) things stack up and I find myself with a crammed day...like yesterday.

How crammed, you ask?  Well, I answer...

1. I went to work and did a day of radio

2. Following that, I walked around the block and did my TV gig.

3. Following that, I walked down through Lower Harbor Park and did a show at the Lake Superior Theatre with my pal Jack.

4. And following that, I went home and provided a few quotes and some historical context for a news article that'll be appearing online later this week.

That's a normal day for a person, right?

8-)

Trust me...I know that yesterday was ANYTHING but a normal day for most people.  Yet for me, it's just one of those days.  I don't mind them and I'm not complaining, although I do know that having a packed schedule causes days to zip by and, by extension, causing months of summer to seem like they're at most a week long (the topic of discussion on TV last night, ironically).  It's just part of being me.

And I'm insanely lucky that it's part of being me.  It means that I'm doing my bit to make this an incredible community, and that that incredible community hasn't gotten sick of me yet.  I've always thought—I've always been taught—that you should do your share, that you should help in anyway you can to make the place you live a great place.

And if that means that I have a packed schedule like yesterday?  Well, that's fine with me.  After all, I can always sleep when I'm dead.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 8/19

 There was much more to the story than even I could have imagined.

One of the first things I did during this insanely busy summer was to host my “Walk on the Wild Side: the Very Historical (Yet Slightly Sketchy) Story of Founder's Landing”. You may remember that, if only because I was dragging 250 people through that area of Marquette. One of the things I sprinkled throughout the tour was the story of a prostitute named Mary Ann Peck, a story that seemed to have captured the imagination of everyone who was on the walk, especially because she had a daughter and was then sent away to prison.

The next day, because people kept asking, especially about the daughter, Beth Gruber at the Marquette Regional History Center did a little digging, and found out that history is weird, interesting, and takes turns that you never would have expected. You see, the daughter of Mary Ann Peck, a prostitute, had four children, one of whom ended up a Monsignor in the Catholic Diocese of Marquette...a Monsignor whose name adorns a building at St Michael's Church in Marquette.

Don't believe me? Check out the newspaper story Beth and I wrote about it--just CLICK OR TAP HERE.

Assuming the weather holds, I'm giving the tour again Wednesday night, and will be adding the extra information in the amazing story of Mary Ann Peck, her daughter, her grandson, a story that I never would have expected to end up the way it did.

All I can say is this—history rocks.

(jim@wmqt.com), reprising “Legends & Lore” with Jack at the Lake Superior Theatre tonight, should you be interested.

Friday, 8/16

Did I ever tell you the story of how Loraine and I became “Loraine and I”? It's the perfect one sentence pitch (especially for a very strange romantic comedy), and it has the added virtue of being true. Wanna hear it?

I was friends with her fiancee and she asked me out on a date.

Every couple has a story behind how they became a couple, and that's ours. Of course, it's leaving out quite a few details—because I was friends with her fiancee we had known each other for several months, several months in which she and that fiancee realized things weren't gonna work out—but it's one of those little pithy one-line description of things that causes people hearing it for the first time to get this quizzical look on their face. It mean, it's not shocking, or anything, it's just out of the ordinary.

Just like us.

The reason I bring it up is today is our “date-i-versary”, the date on which we went out on our first date (her fifth class reunion, if you're curious, although we ended up blowing that off for dinner and an evening chatting alongside a river). Since then, we've been doing things our own way, and as we were discussing a few days ago, it's something that (as I've mentioned in here before) has led to us being pretty much the only couple in our local circle of friends who are still a couple. I don't why (or what it is we've been doing), but after all these years we're still together and still going strong.

Who knew?

I actually think that's been the key to our success over all these years—we do things our own way. We don't do things just because society says we should. Heck; that's why we end up going out in the first place. From getting married on the steps of the Marquette County Courthouse to flipping traditional gender roles (she played hockey; I cook & bake) we just do what works for us, and so far, it's been pretty successful. Oh sure; like every couple, we run into speed bumps every once in a while, but we get through them. And I think part of the reason we're able to deal with those speed bumps is that despite the fact that we have two wildly different personalities (Loraine's quiet, reserved, & thoughtful, and I'm, well, me) we respect each other. We know each other has the best interest of “us” in mind, and we know that no matter what happens, we're there for each other.

So Happy Date-i-versry, Loraine. Let's see if we can make it to, oh, your 65^th class reunion!

8-)

Love,

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 8/15

I've been so insanely busy that I keep forgetting about the trip.

It's not a big trip or anything; Loraine and I aren't going back to Europe unexpectedly or anything. But looking at my big wall calendar (to write a few more things down on it) reminded me that a month from today we'll be getting back from Chicago.

Assuming, of course, I eventually remember that we're going to Chicago next month.

We usually head to Chicago once a year, and this year's trip is a little different. Last winter, my favorite RB Leipzig player, Emil Forsberg, signed to play with the New York Red Bulls in the US. Well, New York is playing in Chicago on September 14^th, so we got tickets for the match and made our annual voyage to Chicago a soccer voyage, as well.

But then the news broke.

Forsberg, when he left for New York, apparently didn't take his wife & kids with him, instead preferring to hang out with a model he met somewhere along the way. He didn't tell his wife & kids, leaving them in Sweden, and the whole thing has left a sour taste in my mouth, meaning he's no longer my favorite player and leading to both me & Loraine to start referring to him as “The Douchebag”.

Which he really seems to have become.

But we're still going to Chicago that weekend, and we still have tickets for the match. Who will we cheer for? I have no idea; I know we couldn't in good conscience cheer for the Douchebag, but he's hurt at the moment, and we don't know if he'll be back in time or not. So whether we cheer for New York because they're a little brother to RB Leipzig or we cheer for Chicago just because the Douchebag doesn't play for them...

Well, we'll have to see. Of course, first of all I'll have to remember that we're going there, but after that, we'll have to see.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 8/14

I can't believe Audacy has the audacity to do this.

If you're not a radio nerd, feel free to tune this one out. I'm going to rant about something that I'm sure no one cares about, except for one or two other radio nerds across the country. You're more than welcome to spend your time today in any one of a zillion better ways, including grabbing a cup of your favorite beverage and taking a walk in the sun we're supposed to get.

In fact, I recommend doing that instead of reading this rant. Really, I do.

But if you're still here, let me commence. Audacy is one of the two or three companies that has gobbled up most of the radio stations in this country. They own many of the biggest and most influential stations, and they're doing something with one of them that I would never in a million years even think of doing.

They're getting rid of the call letters WCBS.

When the Columbia Broadcasting System began in 1928 WCBS was their flagship station, and over the years was the originating point for many of old time radio's classic programs. Since the early 1960s it's been an all news station, and Audacity, already owning an all-news station in New York City, decided to swift the format to ESPN. And that's okay; we had ESPN on our AM station for many years, and it served a great nice in the market.

However, with the format change, they're also changing the station's call letters to something like WHSQ (which don't seem to stand for anything, although I could be wrong). The station's current, iconic call letters have been around for almost a century. They have been part of the radio world from Edgar Bergen to 9/11 and beyond. Why change them to something that's, in all honesty, kind of generic? You have a piece of radio history in your hands. Why not use those call letters, leverage them, to promote your new format joining a piece of American broadcasting history?

But nope.

Like I said, I realize that no one outside of a group of old time radio nerds (maybe, what, five of us nationwide?) cares about this. I'm also sure that, because it's an AM station, half of New York doesn't even know that WCBS is still around. But it's a part of (literal) American history. To see the call letters just shoved away like that is like losing a piece of a long-ago broadcasting legacy. It's Audacy's right to do it.

I just wish they didn't have the audacity to actually go through with it.

(jim@wmqt.ocm), hopeless radio (and history) nerd.

Tuesday, 8/13

I had to laugh at what the lady in Super One said.

I was at the store last weekend when a lady pushing a shopping cart spotted me & walked over. I thought she was gonna say something about my TV gig or my history videos or even the fact that I made it through a thousand or so names announcing at Ore to Shore earlier that day. I was wrong, though. She said, and I quote, “I just wanted to let you know that I could never do your job. I don’t have enough self-control”.

The comment made me laugh, if only because there’s actually someone out there who actually thinks I have ANY self-control. But she went on to explain that her comment stems from one specific incident from a couple of months ago, when someone called for an Instant Request for their parent’s 50^th wedding anniversary. Being naturally curious, I asked the caller if they were gonna do anything special for their parents that night, and their response was this—

“Yeah. I’m gonna take ‘em out to Burger King”.

Now, I had entirely forgotten about the call, but it made enough of an impression on the lady in Super One that she wanted to mention it to me. She said that if she was in my place, she would not have had my response, which was my usual way of dealing with something quite out of the ordinary, my use of the word “okayyyyyyyy...”, stretched out just like it’s written and delivered with a rather quizzical tone. She said that she would’ve made sure the caller knew that, just perhaps, Burger King isn’t quite the place you wanna take your parents on their 50^th anniversary.

And that’s why she doesn’t think she could do my job.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the three-plus decades I’ve been doing what I do is that there are all kinds of people out there. There are happy ones and sad ones, funny ones and serious ones, loud ones and quiet ones, and ones who, for their parents’ 50^th wedding anniversary, throw a big party for them or just take them out to Burger King.

Every person is different, and deals with things differently. That’s why, when I get a phone call like that Instant Request, I just let it play out, and see where it goes. Sometimes, you get a good phone call. Sometimes, you get a chuckle. And sometimes, you even get a moment that sticks in the heads of people who are listening. That’s when I know I’ve done my job.

As for that whole comment about me having any kind of control, self or otherwise...well, that’s a topic best left for another day.  But thanks to the lady in Super One for letting me know that I made an impression. That’s the kind of feedback that I really appreciate. I just hope I can keep making more of them as the decades wear on.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 8/12

 I wonder who the trombone player is.

One of the things I love about living in Marquette is that you never know what you’ll see, what you’ll hear, or what you’ll come across.  When you live in a city full of artsy, creative individuals, that artsy-ness and that creativity quite often bubbles to the surface.  And over the past few weeks, what has bubbled to the surface is one really good trombone player.

I don’t know who the trombone player is; I don’t know where he or she lives, and I don’t know if she or he is a professional at the instrument or just dabbles.  But what I do know is this—every few days, especially when it’s nice out and our windows are open, and always with no warning at all, we’ll hear someone play a trombone.  There’s no other music and no other musicians; there’s just the trombone and its player, serenading our neighborhood with a soulful rendition of (I think) Taylor Swift's “Me” or their take on a jazz classic.  They’ll play the one song, and then stop, leaving me to think two things—

One, that trombone player is really, really good.  Their tone is great, they’re obviously well practiced in their technique, and their style really lends something to some of the works they perform.  Like I said, they’re really, really good.

The second thing I wonder about when I hear them?  Who are they, why are they playing outside, and why do they stop after only one song?  Okay; technically those would be the second, third, and fourth things I think, but still, I believe you get the idea.  I mean, has the person playing been practicing indoors, and just wants a little fresh air before they call it a night?  Do they enjoy serenading the neighborhood, and have spent all day practicing the one piece to get it just right?  Or do they just get bored, and in between social media status updates or chapters of a book decide to give their lungs a workout?

Inquiring minds want to know!

I am in no way complaining; after all, like I said, the trombone player is quite good, and it’s much better than some of the other sounds you get to hear in our neighborhood when the windows are open (and I’m thinking of you, guy who lives a couple of houses behind us and loves his leaf blower just a little too much).  It just makes me wonder what’s behind the impromptu performances, and whether they’re for our benefit, or if our enjoyment of it is just a byproduct of whatever the mystery trombone player happens to be doing at the moment.

Alas, I may never know.  And with winter soon to come, our windows will be permanently closed, and the trombone concerts will be replaced by the sound of snow blowers and ice scrapers.  So I guess I’ll enjoy the performances while I can.

Even if I don’t know who’s giving them, or why.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 8/9

What are you gonna do this weekend?

It's one of those weekends where there is just a TON of things going on around here, and sometimes it's hard to choose what to do. I know where I'll be, if only because it's (I think) the 17th year I've been involved in this particular event--

Ore to Shore.

The race has grown to become one of the biggest mountain bike races in the country, and certainly one of the biggest events of the year in Marquette, and I think one reason for that is the mass starts of the races. Seriously; I'll be announcing the start of the Soft Rock race at Lakeview School in Negaunee, and I HIGHLY recommend it. After all, when do you get to see over 1,000 bike riders in a mass race start? There are so many riders, in fact, that it takes about five minutes for all of them to ride past. It's an amazing moment, and one that I think everyone in Marquette County should experience at least once in their life. What you see on TV or from still pictures just doesn't do the whole thing justice.

You really need to see it for yourself.

So I hope that's one of the things you're planning on doing this weekend. In fact, to do a little prep work for it, I have to cut this a little short this morning, so I hope you don't mind. No matter what you do, though, have a great weekend!

(jim@wmqt.com) 

Thursday, 8/8

The show was actually quite fascinating.

A couple of years ago I put together a "Pieces of the Past" video based on a story Loraine had uncovered about a brother and a sister from Big Bay who were killed in World War II.  The sister, Alice "Pauline" McKinney, went down in a plane along with 17 other WACs off the coast of Africa just after Germany had surrendered, and her plane was never found.

Last week, the show "Expedition: Unknown" tackled the subject. The host, Josh Gates, brought a crew to the coast of Cote D'Ivorie, to see if they could find any remains of the craft. Unfortunately (spoiler alert) they couldn't, but it was interesting to see the processes they went through in trying to find the wreckage. The waters off that part of the African coast have very strong currents, and they were relying on 80-year old maps and eyewitness accounts. So while that part of their search was a disappointment, it was still nice that it shone a spotlight on the WACs and their tragedy

If you wanna see it for yourself and have the Max streaming service, it is available on there. You can also check it out (for the time being) on the Discovery Channel's website, as well. And, if you'd like to find out the story of the McKinney siblings and the ultimate sacrifice they made for their county, here's the video I put together a couple of years ago--

After watching the Discovery show, I just thought it as nice to know that Loraine's not the only person trying to keep the memory of Alice "Pauline" McKinney of Big Bay alive.

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—my favorite two year old in the world turns into my favorite three year old in the world today...so happy birthday, Everly!!)

Wednesday, 8/7

I wonder if I owe the people of New Jersey an apology?

As you may recall, yesterday I was commenting on the plethora of license plates I've seen in Marquette the past week from the state of New Jersey. I also may have made a crack that the UP is a big change from their usual scenery of warehouses and toxic waste dumps. After a day of reflection, I'm starting to wonder if, just perhaps, I played a little too much on the stereotypes surrounding one of America's 13 original colonies.

Either that, or the ghost of Jimmy Hoffa got to me

(See? There I go again).

Whatever guilt I felt at making the cracks would probably be assuaged had I ever actually visited New Jersey and had viewed for myself the glorious warehouses and the scenic toxic waste dumps. But I haven't. I'm only relying on tropes passed down by comedians and sitcoms. I mean, for all I know, those stereotypes might be true, but before I use them I should probably, one day, check them out for myself, right.

After all, I wouldn't want to end up buried in the end zone of whatever stadium they'll next be building.

It's funny; there's a whole swath of the US, from Maryland up north to New York City, where I've never actually been. Yet because of all the TV shows and movies set in that part of the country I actually DO feel like I know them. But that also means that I know the TV & movie version of them; in New Jersey's case, the cartoonishly accented Tony Soprano version of the state. And yet I know there's much more to the state than that, especially in the southern part of it. From pictures I've seen, the landscape is actually quite beautiful.

So maybe, just maybe, I should actually visit "Joisey" before I make jokes at its expense. And who knows--if I'm lucky, maybe the day I visit they'll actually be opening another toxic waste dump. After all, I hear they're quite spectacular in the fall.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com), probably still owing people from the Garden State one huge apology.

Tuesday, 8/5

Of all the states in the country, that's not one of the ones I would have picked.

I, of course, did not get to count license plates this year because I was downstate during the week in which I usually do it. Out of force of habit, though, I have been checking out-of-state plates since getting back a week and a day ago, and I've made an interesting discovery.

People from New Jersey really seem to like us this year.

I'm not kidding; I've seen at least six different vehicles with Jersey plates in the last week. I have no idea why; I don't know if a newspaper or a website in that area wrote something glowing about us, or if we happen to be the location of a “Sopranos” look-alike contest I know nothing about.

All I know is that this year we seem to have become a suburb of Newark.

Every year when I DO count plates there seems to be one state that sticks out. A few years ago it was Missouri, last year it was Texas. I never have an idea why, but I do always seem stuck by the randomness of it. It's the same with New Jersey this year. The past few years I may have seen a Jersey plate or two during the week I'm counting. But to see six in a week when I'm not even counting?

That really IS random.

Of course, now one of two things will happen. I will either see another six Jersey plates in six days, or I won't see any. That's how it works. I have no idea which way it'll go; I just know, at least based on past experience, that that's how it'll happen.

No matter what, though, let me welcome our friends from New Jersey. Hope you're enjoying yourself, and hope you're appreciating the fact that you're away from your normal views of, uhm, warehouses and toxic waste dumps.

And if there IS a “Sopranos” look-alike contest about which I don't know, please accept my apologies. Had I know, I would have done my best to spread the word.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 8/5

Where's the sweat?

At the risk of being just a little too disgusting (not that that's ever bothered me before) I'm gonna talk about sweat today. As you may know, we just wrapped up a series of very hot & very humid days here in Marquette. Those are my favorite days of the year—the days for which I slog through snow and cold and ice—and one of the reasons I like them so much is to run in them.

Trust me, there's nothing more glorious than hitting the streets and finishing, 30 or 45 minutes later, drenched in sweat and endorphins.

Oh, stop looking at me that way.

8-)

Anyway, I noticed something over the past week, and here's where it gets potentially disgusting. Take a look at the back of the sweaty shirt I wore running--

Notice there's a hole in the middle of the shirt where there's no sweat at all? How is that even possible? Sweat pours down my body. My shirt gets soaked. How can there even BE a dry spot on that part of the shirt?

How?

I mean, I have no answer to that question. I'm just assuming that I'm a freak, and like many other things it's just something that can't be explained. It just seems...odd that when almost every other single square inch of the shirt is soaked that there's a dry spot right smack dab in the middle of it.

But then, like I said, I'm a freak. What more to I expect?

With the return of more temperate weather this week it's nothing I'll have to worry about any time in the near future, but it's something I will still ponder.

And maybe I'll even start calling it “The Mystery of the Dry Spot on Jim's Running Shirt”.

(jim@wmqt.com), who promises not to be as disgusting tomorrow.

Friday, 8/2

This is going to be my weekend off.

As you know, it's been busy and weird the past few weeks. Two weekends ago I had to work in order to get ready to head downstate. Then last weekend I was downstate with Loraine's family. Next weekend I have Ore to Shore. So you know what I'm doing this weekend?

Absolutely nothing.

Well, in all honesty, I will be doing a few things—laundry, playing soccer, writing my TV piece for Monday, making cookies, and (hopefully) eating part of a blueberry pie. But other than that, I'm trying to take it easy.

Whether or not I succeed...well, that's up in the air at the moment.

I've been trying not to mention this or dwell on it on it too much, but it's August already. After this weekend Labor Day is but three weekends away. Summer is (literally) almost over, and I really haven't had the chance to enjoy it yet. Sure, I've taken a half day here and a half day there, but between everything going on and a rainy start to the summer, I haven't had the chance to soak up the sun, jump on my bike and just start riding, or dip my toes into Lake Superior.

And I'm starting to run out of time to do that.

So with any luck this is the weekend I'll get to do at least one of them. After all, what with Ore To Shore next weekend and Labor Day looming on the horizon I'm quickly running out of time to do any of them.

Wish me luck. And I hope that YOU get everything you want to do done this weekend!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 8/1

I got mugged on my way to work yesterday.

Don’t worry; I wasn’t physically assaulted by another human being. I’m not bruised or battered. I still have all my money and large chunk of my pride. It’s just that I was...attacked out of the blue while walking down Front Street yesterday morning around 9.

I was mugged by the Peter White Public Library lawn sprinkler system.

As I was walking past the library I heard a strange sound and stopped for a quick second to try and figure out what it was. That was my mistake, because as soon as I stopped the underground sprinklers used by the library all shot to life and started squirting water everywhere. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. However, several of the library’s sprinkler heads aren’t aligned the way they’re supposed to be, and therefore water more of the sidewalk than they do the library’s lawn. Unfortunately, the part of the sidewalk they water was the exact part of the sidewalk on which I was standing.

Fortunately, even though it was just after 9 am, the temperature was in the upper 70s. I can just imagine what my reaction would have been had I been doused with water when it was, like, 50 or something. It wouldn’t have been pretty.

I’m also fortunate that I wasn’t standing 20 or so feet south of where I was. Where I was standing I was hit with a spray of water that was shooting in a circle. Had I been standing 20 feet down the hill, I would’ve been hit by a fountain of water shooting straight up in the air through what’s obviously a bad sprinkler head. Instead of spreading water in an even circle, like a normal sprinkler does, this “fountain” resembles what happens when you stick a hose straight up and shoot water through it as hard as possible. The fountain of water shooting out of the bad sprinkler was taller than I, and I’m 5-10 and a half. If I had been standing right near that fountain. . .

Well, I would’ve had my second shower for the day.

So like I said, I made it through my mugging without too much damage. But let this serve as a warning--if you’re on Front Street by the Peter White Public Library at 9 am and you hear a strange sound, run. You’ll have about five seconds before you get really, really wet.

Trust me on this!

(jim@wmqt.com)