Tuesday, 1/12

 Well, this is turning out to be quite the epic.

I haven't mentioned it much, but I've been hard at work putting together the video version of “Skiing, Skating, and Slapshots”, the program Jack Deo & I were planning on giving at Kaufman Auditorium. In the Before Times, it was slated to premiere next Thursday, the 21^st. But because this is the 41^st of December, 2020, and there's still the virus raging around the country, we're just doing a video version, instead.

All one hour and 45 minutes of it.

While the concept, the stories, and the pictures are mostly Jack's (in this one, I'm the Ed McMahon to his Johnny Carson) I'm the one who's actually putting it together. We recorded the audio one day, I've been editing all of his pictures to that, and I'm also putting together interview packages with people who've been involved, in a historical sense, with skiing, figure skating, and hockey.

And now it's almost done.

I'll have the final edit completed and the full mastered production rendered (a time consuming process) by the end of the week, at which time it goes to NMU for DVD burning and the History Center for downloading. Then, everyone gets to see it—the pictures that Jack collected, the interviews I did, and some other amazing stuff no one had seen for decades, including color movie footage shot by TV-6 of the old Marquette Iron Rangers playing at the Palestra.

That alone should be worth the $15.

So if you're bored January 21^st or anytime thereafter, we have this almost two-hour epic for you to check out, either on DVD or via download. I've seen every single portion of it a hundred or so times, and I hope you'll trust me when I say this--

It's really cool!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 1/11

 Well, I guess I'm below average.

I was doing some laundry this weekend; one load, specifically, was jeans. And that got me to thinking, which as we all know can be a very dangerous thing. How many pair of jeans does the average American own? So after I stuck the jeans in the machine, I pulled out my phone, went to Google, and received my answer.

Seven, if you're curious.

As I mentioned, I'm below average in that respect, as I had just thrown each pair of jeans I own—all four of them—into the washing machine. But as I scrolled down a little further, I took solace in another fact that had followed the mention of seven. You see, even though the average American owns seven pair of jeans, they only wear four of those pair.

And since I wear each of the four pair that I own, for once, at least in that regard, I'm perfectly average!

That was one thing I learned by Googling the number of jeans that the average American owns. The other thing I learned? That tracking cookies are everywhere.

After checking out that fact on Google, while I was waiting to put the jeans in the dryer, I checked out a few more websites on my phone. And, wouldn't you know, each and every site I visited had an ad on it just for me—an ad about buying jeans. I mean, I wasn't surprised; after all, cookies are on every single computer device we use, and advertisers use those cookies to determine what we're interested in. But to see the ads for jeans just a few minutes after I did a Google search that had (literally) nothing to do with buying jeans.

Well...let's just say I had to chuckle. And had be glad that I hadn't just searched for something a little more, shall we say, adult. Because then I can just imagine what would've popped up as ads on my phone. I probably would've had to buy a new one.

8-)

So the next time you get set to throw jeans into the wash, check and see if you're above or below average. And be thankful that you won't have to look it up yourself, and then be bombarded by ads for jeans each and every time you go online.

That's okay. You can thank me later.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 1/8

 I'm gonna try something almost unprecedented a week from today. I have no idea if it'll work, but I'm gonna try it anyway.

I'm taking the day off next Friday.

I know; shocking, isn't it? And a bit surprising, seeing as how I've actually had two of the three last Fridays off because of the holidays. But since I have almost two years of accumulated vacation time to use up, because Fridays are about the only day I can take off without causing myself a crapload of extra work, and because (assuming Covid restrictions are lifted) high school basketball begins the Friday after my proposed day off, I figure that it was next Friday or never.

Wish me luck.

Now, because I'm actually the only person working here, that just doesn't mean that I can take the day off and not care about it. Nope; I have to make sure everything for the weekend after my day off is done, and I also have to make sure that there's something on the air while I'm not. And that's why next Friday you'll be hearing “best of” bits,so I can actually be on the air without actually being here.

Besides, these were bits that I was going to use when I was supposed to go to Germany last year. And then I was going to use them when I was supposed to go to France last year. At least this way they'll get used.

So wish me luck. I think I can pull it off, and if so it should serve as a test run should I ever want to take, say, a week off.

You know, like a normal person.

Have a great weekend!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 1/7

 For some bizarre reason I’ve been looking at several coffee cups & tea mugs I have lying around, and you know what I've realized?

I may need a personality adjustment.

I mean, I don’t know if the sayings on coffee cups reflect someone’s personality, but if they do, then it appears I whine a lot. And in real life, I don’t whine that much. Honest--I don’t. Despite what I write in here and what I say on the air and the way I talk to my friends and the way I....

Uhm...well, never mind. Maybe coffee cups (or, in my case, tea mugs) really DO reflect the person who has them. And maybe by looking at the ones in your possession, you’re able to tell just what people think about you, even if they’d never say it to your face. Maybe they know you and your personality quirks better than you do, and the coffee cups are a way to for you to discover those quirks.

Take three of the mugs I have lying around our apartment. One of them was a gift many years ago from one of my parents, and says “It’s hard for a night person to work days’. Now, aside from being quite true (trust me on that part), I’m sure it stemmed from the way I’d try (and actually still try) to wake up in the morning. My brain’s not working, my body follows and the only thing that comes out of my mouth is a series of mumbles and grumbles that try (but don’t quite succeed) in becoming intelligible sounds.

So chalk one up to truthiness in coffee cups.

Then there’s one Loraine got me as a gag gift (at least I think it was a gag gift), one that says “still perfect after all these years’. This, of course, is a veritable cornucopia of personality quirks, in that I’m far from perfect (witness how many times I say “Oops...my fault” during the day), and in that I also have that wonderful Koski family phobia about aging. So you see? You kill two personality traits with one stone in that cup!

Finally, there’s one mug that I still use all the time, and one that I will fully admit reflects my personality. I don’t remember who got it for me, and I don’t remember the circumstances under which I was given it. All I know is that it fit perfectly when I was given it, and it still fits perfectly to this day.

What does that mug say? It says this--“Some days, all I want is a normal life”.

Amen to that. It’s still a motto to which I still aspire. Admittedly, I won't be getting it any time soon, but a boy can dream, right?

So if you’ve ever wondered how others see you (for good or for not so good), take a look at the coffee cups they give you. You’ll either be shocked or pleasantly surprised or, perhaps, both.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 1/6

 So what do I do with 2020's calendar? Burn it as a sacrifice, or keep it as history?

I changed the big wall calendar in my office yesterday. That's the calendar that kind of rules my life; I write down where I need to be when, and I follow it as closely as I can (or as much as I can when I actually remember to look at it). Normally, at the end of the year, I just chuck it (after all, there's not a big market for used calendars), but when I took it down yesterday I noticed so many things had been written down and crossed out, or X'd out, or just not written in, that it made me think--

Should I actually keep it as history of the strangest year in recent history, or bury it somewhere under a bunch of sage to make sure 2020 never, ever happens again?

As I've written in here before, I think we're all actually a little too close to the situation to determine what we should keep and what we should toss concerning the year just finished. It's hard to decide what to do about something when you're still experiencing it, and it's even harder to decide once it's finally over and you're looking back at it with a little perspective and/or post traumatic stress disorder. I'm sure in 20 or 40 or 60 years some great books will be written about this era.

I just don't know if any of us are still around that we'll want to read them.

Hence, the decision about what to do with my calendar.

I should just toss it. After all, I don't know of anyone in their right mind who would want to relive 2020 again. But I also know that what we lived through last year was history. Someday, someone is going to want to know what we went through on a daily basis. And while I'm not saying my calendar is the key to it all, it's also the kind of primary resource that people who dig into history are always giddy to find. I'm pretty sure that a calendar with a bunch of crossed out vacation and meeting dates wouldn't be the basis for a thesis, but it might provide a little context.

You never know.

Maybe, for now, I'll just roll it up and throw it in a corner. That way, I can pretend it's not there and not have the spectre of 2020 hovering over me. But maybe some day—some year—when the trauma has worn off, I can dig it back out, take a look at it, and then determine whether or not it might ever be of any use to anyone.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 1/5

 As I do every year, I did it as a little tip of the hat to my grandfather. I mean, I don't actually wear a hat, so it wasn't a literal “tip', but you get the idea, right?

My grandfather died over thirty years ago, but in a way I see him every day. You know those ungainly long legs and arms I'm always complaining about? They come from him. The sunken eyes, too. I'm sure that I picked up a few of my odd quirks and idiosyncrasies from him, as well. Those quirks may be lurking in the background, or they may present themselves out in the open like one in particular that happens every Christmas Day.

And that's what I'm talking about here.

When I was a kid, my grandfather would slowly unwrap his gifts and then, if at all humanly possible, put the present back in the wrapping paper and make it look as close to an unwrapped gift as he could. I don't know why; all I know is he did it, and it made him happy. I grew up watching him do it, and probably pretty much every year since he passed away, I've tried to carry on the tradition.

No I have no idea why.

Because I have nowhere near the skill level that he had, I always have to try it with a book (or, this year, a Blu-ray disc set). I'll slowly undo the tape (much to Loraine's consternation, who just wants me to get on with it), pull the book (or Blu-ray) out, see what it is, thank who gave it to me, and then slip it back into the wrapping paper, where it sits in its little cage acting as my little tribute to my grandfather, at least until I open it again to read the book or start watching the Blu-ray, which I did this past weekend.

Yeah, I know. I need help.

8-)

There's no real reason for me to do it other than to carry on a rather weird tradition, but you know what? For me, at least, it wouldn't seem like Christmas without doing it. And then every year in January when I re-unwrap the gift, I smile a little smile and think back to a guy who left an impression on me, not only with those long arms & legs I see every day, but in a much more quirky way, as well.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 1/4

 I am never going to eat again.

First of all, hope you had a great New Year's weekend. So far—at least as of when I type this the morning of January 4th—2021 hasn't yet done anything to try to top the insanity of 2020 (assuming, of course, you ignore politics), so there's hope yet for the new year.

Not a lot, but at least there's some.

I spent part of New Year's Day doing what I seem to have been doing quite a bit the past few weeks, and that's cook, and then eat the cooking. I stepped on the scale the next day and noticed I've gained a pound & change the past month, so I really should stop that habit (cooking, that is, not stepping on the scale). However, if this is indeed the end for a bit, I'd like to think I went out in style.

Let me present to you New Year's Day Kaiserschmarnn, topped with home made cranberry sauce and Nutella--

I've written in here about making the Bavarian delicacy before; it's just basically a super-charged pancake that's torn up & covered in some kind of fruit topping. Usually, that fruit topping is applesauce, but since I had leftover fresh cranberries from Thanksgiving (which I had frozen) and leftover Nutella from one of the few kinds of Christmas cookies I made this year, I decided to throw them all together in one last final shot of food gluttony.

Kind of like the finale of a Fourth of July fireworks show, except without the big “booms”.

I have to admit the dish turned out quite well, especially in the way the tartness of the cranberries played off the gooey sweetness of the Nutella. But I now think I may have reached my limit (at least for now) of dishes that take hours to prepare and contain more calories in them than any human should ever consume in a single day. In fact, just yesterday I found myself craving not Greek food, not Indian food, not some insanely huge desert, but instead a simple turkey sandwich and a carrot.

No cranberries,, no Nutella, no bechamel sauce, no nothing.

I'm sure that, too, shall pass, and in a few weeks or months I'll start to get adventurous again. But for now, for (at least) the beginning of the year, it's back to normal. It's back to simple. It's back to healthy.

At least until my body says it's“okay”, and until I lose that extra pound and change.

(jim@wmqt.com)