Friday, 6/20

First of all, it went quite well, thanks for asking--

That's just part of the 150 or so people who joined me Wednesday night for the “Wild Wild West” walking tour. The rain that hit just south of Marquette never made it to the city, and we were able to get across all the streets without incident.

So in my book, it was a win-win. Since Wednesday, I've had people ask if I'll be doing it again, either because they were afraid of the rain or because they had other things going on. You know what?

Don't be surprised if, sometime later this summer (AFTER my bar tour, he says with a laugh) we do it again.

8-)

Now, onto the other important topic at hand--happy first day of summer!

I was speaking with one of my meteorologists on the air once about the longest and shortest days of the year, focusing on the fact that on first day of winter people can leave their home, go to work, and then go home, and not see a lick of sun because of the shortness of the day. Well, last night, for some bizarre reason, I was jolted awake in the middle of the night by the thought that the exact opposite of that will occur today.

And then, of course, I couldn't get back to sleep.

But when you think of it, it's true. Say someone goes to bed at 10pm and wakes up at 6am. If they were to do that today in Marquette, they'd be going to bed just after the sun had set and the sky was still light. They'd then be waking several minutes after sunrise, when the sky was filled with light. They'd go to bed when it was light and wake up when it was light, not seeing a lick of darkness, just like some people don't see a lick of sun on the first day of winter.

Nah; I don't think it's a concept worth getting up for in the middle of the night, but what does my sub-conscious know, right?

Back in the days when I Roller-bladed (back before I cracked a rib after wiping out and Loraine told me I couldn't Roller-blade any more) I used to go out at 10pm on the first day of summer and blade around a bit, just because I could. I mean, there aren't a lot of places in the U.S. where you can do that. But because we're on the far western edge of a time zone and because we're quite far north, we get to do stuff like that. I always felt that I should do just because we could, just because no one else could.

Maybe THAT'S why I wake up in the middle of the night with weird ideas.

So have yourself a great first day of summer, no matter what happens. Who knows...maybe YOU won't see a lick of darkness all day yourself!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 6/18

Well, tonight's the night we see how it turns out.

Tonight is the first big Jim Koski ™ History Center tour for the year, the "Wild Wild West: The Forgotten History of West Washington Street" bit that I've been babbling about in here since, oh, January. I have no doubt that the tour itself will be a blast--I've collected some amazing stories, after all--but the one thing I AM worried about is crowd size, and if anyone will die during it.

I'm mostly joking about the last bit, but maybe not.

The first part of the tour will be going up Washington Street from Fourth to Seventh, along some very narrow sidewalks. I've walked the route several times, and I'll admit I'm a little worried that if we get the usual crowd of two to three hundred that there will be no place for everyone to stand as we head down one of Marquette's busiest streets. I mean, we've arranged to have a Boy Scout troop act as crowd control, and the Marquette City Police say they'll try to be there when we try to cross the street, but still--

250 people on narrow sidewalks next to an heavily trafficked street. Past experience has shown it'll be fine, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed nonetheless.

It gets underway at 630 at the History Center if you'd like to brave the odds & join us. We'll head up Fourth, cross Washington there, then cross again at Seventh before heading back to the History Center via the bike path. So if you feel like tempting the odds, you're more than welcome to join us and hear stories about what used to be there, what changed the street 100 years ago this year, and hear tales ranging from a dude to drove a car for 100 hours straight to what I think may be the only documented act of terrorism in Marquette's history.

Like I said, it should be a fun one. Hope you can join us!

*****

I'll let you know how it turned out, although I won't be doing it tomorrow. Juneteenth is a corporate holiday, so I have the day off, but I'll be back Friday with all the details on how the tour went.

And hopefully, they won't be gory details!

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 6/17

Summer is coming one day soon, right?

Right?????

As you may have noticed by some of the whining I've done in here recently, we have not had a very nice summer so far this “summer”. Even though (technically) the first day of summer is this Friday, it really hasn't felt like summer. And even though (technically) the first day of summer is this Friday, the forecast for the day (at least for now) seems more apt for the end of April than it does the longest day of the year.

So...yuck.

Never one to waste an opportunity to whine about the weather, I channeled my displeasure at how the year's been unfolding so far into my TV piece last night. I'd like to think it both turned out well and made a cogent point; however, if you're sick of someone (cough cough) complaining about the “summer” so far, feel free to disagree.

See what you think for yourself, whether or not you agree, and whether or not I should shut my yap in the subject any day now.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 6/16

I don't know why, but those are the saddest headstones you see when walking through a cemetery.

As you know, Loraine and I spend a lot of time in Marquette's Park Cemetery, often just walking through it on a nice summer day and enjoying the beauty of nature all around us. Recently we've started gazing at headstones for one certain thing, a thing that the thought of makes me shake my head with a little bit of grief.

Here's an example--

If you ponder it for a second, if you do the math in your head, you realize that Mary lived another 44 years after her husband died and never remarried. She, from the looks of it, spent the last four and a half decades of her life alone.

That's what makes me sad.

This isn't the worst example we've seen, either. One of the guys Loraine's researching died in Normandy just after D-Day, just a few months after marrying a woman. His widow never remarried; she died in 2004 sixty years after her husband was killed in 1944. After being married just a few months she spent the rest of her life—six decades—alone.

That's just something I can't fathom. I mean, I understand the concept of having a soulmate, someone without whom you can't live. I get it. I'd like to think that I'm lucky enough to have someone like that in my life. But to go fifty or sixty years without anyone else, to basically shut part of your life off because your soulmate is no longer around?

Maybe it's just me, but that just doesn't seem to be right.

Now I can understand how someone can go a few years without another partner; after all, you're still recovering from a sudden loss, and wondering if your heart can ever open that much again. But I'd like to think that everyone has it in them, once they've begun to heal, to find someone else. That person may not be your first soulmate, but who's to say they can't be your second? Life, at least to me, seems to be better when you have someone with whom to share it. And to shut yourself off to that after just a few months or a few years, just because your partner is no longer around...

I dunno. Maybe I'm weird that way. But it just seems sad to me.

I've made Loraine jokingly promise that if I get gunned down in a mass shooting she'll find someone else. I'm not planning on getting gunned down in a mass shooting (although these days you never know), but the thought of anyone—especially someone I love—being alone for decades is just too sad of a thought to bear. And it's something that happens more often than you'd think, at least if you notice certain headstones when walking through the cemetery.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 6/13 (!)

Yes, I actually do have a list. Because, you know, I'm a geek.

During yesterday's entry on the late great Brian Wilson I mentioned that he was one of the four musical geniuses of the 20^th century. That led several of you—Holly in Marquette and Chelsee from “around Chicago”--to ask, and I'm quoting here, “You have a list of the four greatest musical geniuses of the 20^th century”?

Well, of course I do. Doesn't everyone?

8-)

Brian Wilson was obviously one of the four, although on the list in my head they're not ranked in any order other than, perhaps, chronological. Of the four, there's not a number one, nor is there a runner-up or someone in “last”. They're all geniuses who changed the course of music history, and left (or are leaving) a catalog of work that's unsurpassed, music that we'll be listening to for decades (if not centuries) to come.

Those four, in chronological order?

George Gershwin

Brian Wilson

Paul McCartney

Stevie Wonder

If you had a list of the four greatest music geniuses of the 20^th century, your list might not include those particular four. It might not even include any of the four (although then I'd look at you with a skewed eye and, perhaps, judge you silently). But I'll give you the reasons why those are my four geniuses--

“Rhapsody in Blue”

“Good Vibrations”

“Eleanor Rigby”

“Superstition”

I mean, each of those four is so much more than just the works I listed, but if you have any doubts as to why they're on the list, those four works are why. Like I said, your opinions may vary, and that's cool. But that's who's on my list and just a few reasons why. Because, as we all know. I'm a geek.

Have a great weekend. I don't like having to say this in June, but I must. Stay warm!!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 6/12

To put it in words he'd probably himself use, that's a major bummer.

One of the four true musical geniuses of the 20^th century died yesterday. Brian Wilson had not been in good health for a long time, so it wasn't entirely unexpected, but whenever someone of his stature passes away, it is indeed a “major bummer”. I've written in here quite often about not only my love of his music, but for my admiration of what he's gone through in his life and how he overcame it.

So much so, that Loraine and I even flew to Boston for 32 hours back in 2016 to get this picture taken--

(He's the one on the left with his eyes closed, if you're keeping score at home).

Well, actually, we flew there to see him perform with the Boston Symphony and it was, if I may say so myself, quite the night. You didn't go to a Brian Wilson concert back then to hear him sing; after all, his voice was shot by decades of drugs and mental health issues. You were there because you wanted to celebrate both his life and his music.

And what a musical legacy it was.

In fact, there are two overriding memories I took away from the concert. The first was when he, his band, and the Symphony were doing “Good Vibrations” and the cello players in the Symphony kept looking at each other with big smiles on their faces, as if saying “Can you believe we're playing 'Good Vibrations' with Brian Wilson”?

The other was during the encore, when his band (one of the best I've heard live, by the way) were cranking through a medley of early Beach Boys hits, and by the time they got to “Fun Fun Fun” I saw an 80-ish year old lady in the balcony, dressed up in a fur jacket, dancing in the aisle.

You don't get to see many things like that in your life. And I only got to see them because of Brian Wilson.

So while I'm sad that old age and creeping dementia finally got the best of him, I'll always have the memories of that night, and of all of the awe inspiring music that came out of that uniquely creative mind of his.

I don't know that there will be another person quite like him for a long, long, time.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 6/11

157 years ago today, Marquette burned to the ground.

The Great Fire of 1868 was perhaps THE defining moment in Marquette history. In a four hour span a large chunk of of the city burned, the rest of it spared by the width of a street. And from those ashes rose the amazing place we live in (or visit) today.

So to mark the anniversary, here's a video I made five years ago. In your mind, change the opening line to “157 years”. And be thankful that we're a whole lot more safety conscious than people were back in 1868.

(jim@wmqt.com)