Monday, 3/21

One of these days when I take a day off I'll take an actual day off. Really, I will.

First of all, I did enjoy my three day weekend. Sure, it was too short, but 1) that always happens and b) I have no one to blame but myself. You see, instead of just sitting around and doing nothing on Friday—my extra day off—I spent almost the entire day walking (and running) around Marquette shooting video and interviews for “Pieces of the Past” with my trusty production assistant, Jaxon.

But in my defense, I did get to sleep, uhm, ten minutes later than I usually do Friday. So that's almost like taking the day off, right?

I know; I know. All I ever do is complain about not having any time to relax, so what do I go out and do on the one day I'm supposed to take time to relax? Yup.

That's a really winning formula I've stumbled upon here, isn't it?

At least I was able to gather material for parts of six (or seven) different video segments, which means that I've gathered most (but not all) of the footage I'll need to put together all the segments I plan on doing this time around. And before you point this out...yes, I know that I didn't need to do another series of “Pieces”. We've already had this discussion. I told you I was an idiot for even considering it in the first place.

And for one of the few times in my life, I was right.

8-)

On that note, I'll leave you with one of the segments that I put together before I spent a day of relaxation not relaxing. I like telling stories...what can I say?

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 3/17

I did it once. That should be enough, right?

Happy St. Patrick's Day, the one day when everyone is Irish and doesn't have to depend upon a crazy drunk great-great-great grandfather to actually BE Irish (and, if you haven't read yesterday's blog yet, do so and that line will make much, much more sense). There are several traditional things that one does on a day like today, such as eat corned beef, wear a strange hat, and drink green beer.

I did that once. I don't think I need to do it again.

Of course, I'm not that much of a beer drinker, anyway. But there was one year—and I don't remember when, but I know it was a while ago—I actually went to a bar with a friend to celebrate the holiday and ended up drinking a green beer. Well, more specifically, I ended up drinking a glass of green food coloring with a little beer in it. I'm basing that on how green my tongue turned and how long it took to change back to its normal tongue-colored color. If I remember correctly (and I may have blocked the exact length due to, you know, trauma) my tongue was green for over three days.

Yup. Three days with a green tongue. Because, you know, I don't draw enough attention to myself as it is.

So that's why, even through I'm a little over 12% Irish, I don't celebrate St. Patrick's Day the way a true Irish person would. I guess I just enjoy having a tongue-colored tongue just a little too much.

******

I'm off tomorrow to take a three-day weekend (and do stuff for one of my other gigs), so see you Monday. If you ARE celebrating St. Patrick's Day, stay safe. And if not, make sure you have enough bail money on you.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 3/16

I guess I can rest a little easier on at least one account.

Last week I wrote about how a very small percentage of my DNA may have come from people who could have been Ukrainian. Or, at the very least, from somewhere near the what is now the border between Poland and Ukraine. Well, after a little checking I can now say that I probably don't have a long-long relative currently running for their life.

It's a tragedy that two and a half million (and counting) other people are, and it's getting a little sad just sitting back and watching it happen, knowing there's not much one can do. But that's a story for another day.

As I had mentioned last week a woman married into the Schwemin family right before they emigrated from Prussia to Marquette Township in the late 1800s. That woman accounts for the very small percentage of Polish/Eastern European DNA I carry around, and if you remember the blue section of this map--

There was a slight chance she came from what may be modern day Ukraine. Well, thanks to Loraine, who has developed into quite the genealogical researcher, I now know that my great-great-great grandmother came from a town in what is now central Poland. She moved north with her family into what is now Stobno, Poland, but which was then part of Germanic Prussia. She met my great-great-great grandfather, they had a bunch of kids, and one of those kids led the exodus to the US.

That doesn't mean that somewhere among the vast mass of refugees I don't have a ninth cousin, but at least there are none that I can find so far.

Loraine's also found out interesting things about a few of my other ancestors, as well. The funniest may be, considering what tomorrow is, the best. Apparently, I had another great-great-great-something in Ireland who had a little problem with the local police. Well, actually, a big problem, in that records from the 1800s show that he had a habit getting arrested, two or three times a week, for public intoxication. After spending waaaaay too much time in jail he was given a choice—stop drinking or leave the country. And, given the fact that I'm here in the US today, you can guess which choice he made.

You know how everyone has a crazy uncle in their family? Well, my crazy uncle (or crazy great great great grandfather or whatever) started a chain of events that ended up with me actually being here these days. So, crazy Irish uncle or grandfather or whoever got kicked out of the old country...

Thanks???

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 3/15

You know, they’re the gloves charged with getting me through an Upper Michigan winter. I should probably take better care of them.

Because I do a lot of walking in the winter, I always make sure I have a good pair of gloves. I make sure they’re Thinsulated yet not so bulky that they impair my fingers. I trust my gloves to keep me warm yet keep me functional on those cold winter (and, sadly, mid March) days when I have to trudge to work and back.

So you think I’d take good care of those gloves, right? Oh, c’mon; you know better than that. I’ve had this.. habit recently of misplacing the gloves I with which I trust my hands. I have lost them in a grocery store, I have left them backstage at Kaufman, I have misplaced them on a city street, I have left them in an office, and I’ve even left them on the roof of a car. But you know what? I also seem to find them again. Those gloves must be like one of those dogs that’ll travel cross-country to become reunited with their owner.

Those gloves just don’t want to leave me!

And I don’t want them to leave me, either. I mean, like I said, they’re good gloves, and they’ve been protecting my hands during this very weird winter. Yet I accept all blame for the torture I’ve put them through; mostly, it’s because I’ll stick them half hanging out of a jacket pocket, which causes them to fall out in a grocery store, backstage at Kaufman, while I’m walking home, or in someone’s office. It’s not the fault of the gloves; as with many things, it’s my own stupidity that causes me to almost lose them.

Luckily I’ve always realized I’ve misplaced the gloves before it’s been too late to backtrack to try & find them. Sometimes it’s taken time to find them (time I never seem to have) but I always do come to their rescue. You’d think that after a while I’d realize that, just perhaps, my jacket pocket isn’t the best place to keep them. After all, they keep falling out whenever I put them in there. But no...I’m either too lazy or too stupid to actually put them somewhere where they won’t fall out. Heck, maybe I’m self-sabotaging; after all, we all know I don’t like winter. Maybe my twisted psyche figures that if it gets rid of the gloves it’ll get rid of winter. I mean, my conscious mind knows that’s not true, but you never know what you’ll find in my sub-conscious mind.

Most days, in fact, I don’t even wanna go down there!!

So if you see a pair of small Thinsulated black gloves with a Champion logo on the street in the next few weeks, laugh to yourself a little bit. Not only will you know who lost the gloves, but you’ll also know that he’s not yet learned his lesson that he shouldn’t keep them in his jacket pockets!!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 3/14

And happy Pi Day, a perfect day to discuss this particular topic--

Just what's wrong with you people???

And by “you people”, I don't mean the fine, intelligent, and tasteful group that reads this on a daily basis and goes about leading upstanding lives. Nope; I'm instead referring to the people who, in a survey by the American Pie Council, left blueberry pie off the list of the five favorite pie flavors in this fine country of ours.

Once again, what's wrong with you people????

I'm serious here. One of my “Weird Facts” on the air last week was how the American Pie Council & Crisco did a survey that found out 92% of Americans enjoy eating pie. That in itself is not cause for any concern, unless you're like me and wonder why 8 percent of the country doesn't like pie (that, though, may be a pondering for another day). The survey then went on to survey the five favorite pies of Americans. To perhaps no one's surprise apple topped the list followed by another solid choice, pumpkin.

It's then that it started to get weird.

Pies number three through five were, in order, pecan, sweet potato, and chocolate. And while I applaud the concept of pie number five, how could any of those rate ahead of blueberry? Blueberry pie is, like, one of the gifts we're given for being human and being able to combine ingredients together so that the sum is waaaaay more than the whole of the parts. It turns a bad day good, and a good day even better. It's nothing short of manna from the heavens.

And yet it didn't even make the top five.

I don't know if this survey was skewed toward people living in the southern US, where pecan and sweet potato pies are popular, or if (once again) I'm just so far out of the norm that when I like is what no one else would like. But to only have one fruit pie—apple--in the top five (and yes, I know pumpkins technically are fruit, but that's not the point here) just doesn't seem right. Even if you don't think blueberry pie should make the list, what about cherry pie, or raspberry pie, or strawberry pie, or key lime pie?

Fruit and pies go together. Don't believe me? Ask a company like Hostess. You don't see them selling sweet potato pies in their collection of hand-held fruit pies, do you? Nope. You see apple, you see blueberry, you see cherry, and, at least according to Google you also see lemon. But sweet potato? Pecan? Nope.

Hostess obviously knows something about pies. So what's wrong with the rest of the country?

(jim@wmqt.com), firm believer in (and lover of) blueberry pie.

Friday, 3/11

I wonder if they've used up all their toilet paper yet?

Happy anniversary, by the way. It was two years ago today that our world started to fall apart, as the first sports leagues cancelled games, schools started to close, the EU shut its borders, the World Health Organization declared it a pandemic, and Tom Hanks—TOM HANKS!--informed the world he had contracted Covid. Within days everything was shut down and our world has yet, in some ways, to recover.

Ah. Good times.

Of course, even though it was two years ago today that things really struck home, we had been dealing with the growing impact of the burgeoning pandemic even before that. I'm thinking, specifically, on perhaps the most surreal aspect of those early days, the fact that people were going out and clearing store shelves of toilet paper.

Two years later still don't get WHY they did it, but that's neither here nor there.

The toilet paper “shortage” (there really wasn't a shortage until some people decided that it might be a good time to go out and buy a thousand rolls) led to lots of bemused stares, countless late night TV jokes, and some creative ideas for people. I recall walking down Front Street in Marquette right before everything was shut down and seeing this sign--

I have no idea if it actually worked as a promotion, but it sure was a heck of a great idea.

Of course, as it turned out the toilet paper “shortage” was the least of our worries as everything fell apart two years ago today.. As I mentioned in here last week or a couple of weeks ago things changed so quickly over so many days that for the first month or so of the pandemic just seems like a blur. Even from gaining a little (just a little) perspective over those two years it's still kind of hard to believe, especially (and probably) because we're still dealing with the fall out from it.

When we get back to “normal”--IF we ever get back to “normal”--it'll seem so very, very strange. Of course, that might not be until 2025 or 2027 or 2030, but I'm hopeful we'll get there one day. And the good thing about that is?

That should be just around the time people who bought a 1,000 roles of toilet paper back in 2020 will need to go out and buy some more.

Have a great weekend!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 3/10

And this makes sense...how?

There's a company that picks up trash for the city of Marquette. They get paid by city water & sewer fees, as well as by the fact that we also need to buy special trash bags for our garbage to get picked up. Yet, it seems to me like the company never wants to pick up the trash or the recycling, often leaving notes & stickers for people telling them that their trash bags aren't tied the right way or that their recycling has, I dunno, two pieces of paper touching each other, which violates their rules and therefore can't be picked up.

It seems to be to be getting really bad and occasionally absurd these days. Some might even say that's a Waste.

Here's the latest example. I walked to work yesterday morning and noticed a bag of trash sitting on the snowbank in front of the station. It was from the office with whom we share the building. They put their trash out every week in a proper city bag and it gets picked up. But not this week. Nope; this week there was a note stuck on the bag saying that since it was sitting on a snowbank the company wouldn't take it. It's not like they couldn't reach the bag; after all, they had no problem reaching it to put the sticker on it.

But because it was sitting on a snowbank they wouldn't pick it up.

Now maybe there's a reason for their refusal to do the job for which they get paid. Maybe there's a safety issue, or maybe Mercury was in retrograde and they just didn't feel like. But for our neighbors there was no place else to put the bag. As I've written about in here before, there are nothing BUT snowbanks around the city. We've had a lot of snow recently, and the city hasn't been able to cut them all down. So what were our neighbors supposed to do? Wait outside holding the bag until the truck drove by and then throw it in themselves?

And what about every single other Marquette residents who may only have a snowbank in front of their home or business?

Like I said, there may be a reason for all of this. There may even be a logical reason behind all of this. But over the past several years there has been a constantly shifting set of rules as to why or why not they'll pick up the trash put out the way it's supposed to be and a constantly shifting set of rules as to what you can or can't do with your recycling. Just when you think you have it down a policy changes and you have to start figuring out what the h-e-double-hockey sticks is going on. There's no rhyme nor reason (at least that I can figure) as to what they do, just as there's no rhyme nor reason to the fact that we keep having to pay more and more for garbage service that gets more and more absurd.

None of it—absolutely none of it—make any sense. And that's all I'm gonna say about that.

(jim@wmqt.com)