Friday, 9/28

This is gonna be a weird weekend. I don't have anything pressing I need to do.

For the past two months, my weekend schedules have been packed with work duties, packing, unpacking, and presentations. I haven't had too much of a chance since, actually, the weekend BEFORE Art on the Rocks just to sit back & chill, and use a weekend for the way a weekend is supposed to be used.

But now, almost two months later, I get to do just that. It'll be great. Except, you know, for the cold & rainy conditions we get for the next few days. But other than that it'll be great.

I actually do have a lot of things I want to do; there's just nothing that I HAVE to do. That means that I can take care of the things I want to do. That means I can blow off the things I want to do, and do something else. Or do nothing at all. That's the great thing about this weekend. It's open for anything, and I'm not gonna let cold & rain deprive me of that.

Sure, I may complain about the weather a little. Well, okay, I may complain about the weather a lot. But I'm not gonna let it stop me from doing what I want—whatever that is—when I want.

It's the freedom that's the important thing.

So those are my weekend plans...not having any weekend plans at all. I hope that whatever your plans are this weekend—even if you have none yourself—that they turn out spectacularly. I think after a week like this we all deserve it, right?

Enjoy yourself!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 9/26

Because I have my annual doctor's appointment in a few minutes, and because the album I discuss in the following blog was released 50 years ago this week, I'm going to leave you with a “best of” today.

Hope you won't mark my grade for the whole semester down just because of that.

Back with something new tomorrow—the story of sneezes, No, seriously...sneezes.

So practice your “gezundheits”, if you would.

(jim@wmqt.com)

****

(as originally posted March 21^st, 2016)

It was just one of those discussions.

After Beatles producer George Martin died a couple of weeks ago, Loraine read an interview with him in which he had offered the thought that the group's “The White Album” should have been a single disc instead of a double album. I can't say I disagree; the 1968 album isn't one of my favorites, and it has a lot of filler and experimental work on it that, at least when I listen, gets skipped over.

And that started the discussion between Loraine and me. If you had to follow George Martin's suggestion and cut “The White Album” to a single disc—from 30 songs to 15 songs—which would make the cut? As we found out, no two people would put it together the same way. I'm sure that every single person would have different songs make the cut, based on their tastes and their idea of what would constitute a classic Beatles album. I know Loraine and I couldn't agree, and I'd imagine that if any of you put together your own version of a single disc “White Album”, it would be radically different from mine.

But for what it's worth, here's what I think. First of all, for your reference, the 30 songs that make up the double length “White Album”.

Back in the U.S.S.R.
Dear Prudence
Glass Onion
Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da
Wild Honey Pie
The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill
While My Guitar Gently Weeps
Happiness Is a Warm Gun
Martha My Dear
I'm So Tired
Blackbird
Piggies
Rocky Raccoon
Don't Pass Me By
Why Don't We Do It in the Road?
I Will
Julia
Birthday
Yer Blues
Mother Nature's Son
Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey
Sexy Sadie
Helter Skelter
Long, Long, Long
Revolution 1
Honey Pie
Savoy Truffle
Cry Baby Cry
Revolution 9
Good Night


Now, here's my thought process in cutting it down to 15. Your thought process, of course, will differ, but I started by keeping the songs that everyone would consider the classics--”USSR”, “Obi-La-Di”, “Guitar”, “Blackbird”, “Julia”, “Birthday”, “Helter Skelter”, “Revolution”, and “Good Night”. You have to have those nine songs, or it wouldn't be the essence of “The White Album”. Admittedly, the list is a little McCartney heavy, so let's add “Dear Prudence” and “Happiness is a Warm Gun” from John Lennon, and George Harrison's “Savoy Truffle”, just because. That's 12 songs.


But what about the final three? That's where it gets tough.”Why Don't We Do It In The Road” is cute but disposable. “Bungalow Bill”'s the same. “Revolution Number 9”, like a bunch of the tracks, is just too weird. However, songs like “Mother Nature's Son” and “Rocky Raccoon” have been remade by a bunch of people, so let's throw those onto the list. That's 14. For the final song? Throw in Ringo's “Don't Pass Me By”.


He could probably use the songwriting royalties.


So here's what MY one-disc version of “The White Album” would look like--


Back in the U.S.S.R.
Dear Prudence
Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da
While My Guitar Gently Weeps
Happiness Is a Warm Gun
Blackbird
Rocky Raccoon
Don't Pass Me By
Julia
Birthday
Mother Nature's Son
Helter Skelter
Revolution 1
Savoy Truffle
Good Night


Nice tight playlist, classic songs, and no filler. It's just what a Beatles album should look like. And yet, I'm guessing, there are many of you out there who find my logic faulty or my tastes lacking. And that's okay. Loraine and I couldn't agree; in fact, I'm guessing very few people on the planet could agree. But that's what makes this such a fascinating mental exercise. So thank you, George Martin, for leaving us one final musical gift, a gift that became a little more than just one of “those” discussions.

Tuesday, 9/25

What makes someone want to become an opera singer?

I mean, is it one of those things where you just wake up one morning and think to yourself, “You know, this would be a good day to learn an aria”? Is it because of a love of music and/or Italian and/or Viking horns?

Or is it because of “Gilligan’s Island”?

More on that thought in just a second. But I’ve actually been thinking about this again recently, thanks to a couple of things. The first was our trip to Germany; Loraine's BFF King Ludwig II was quite the opera fan. Then when I was waiting for the Graveraet program to start Saturday afternoon, I overheard several people who attended talk about how they once heard selections from “Carmen” performed at Kaufman Auditorium. Because I know some of the music from the opera (actually, you know some of the music, whether you realize it or not), I started thinking, and, as we all know, that can be a dangerous thing.

What is is that causes someone to become an opera singer?

I mean, it obviously takes a certain kind of voice and a certain kind of mentality to get up on stage and blow your lungs out (usually in Italian) for three hours. And opera singers today aren’t what they used to be, or at least they aren’t what they used to be if your only exposure to opera was Elmer Fudd singing “Kill the Wabbitt”. In fact, lots of opera singers now shuttle between opera and pop with no problem whatsoever. So whatever stereotype of opera singers exists in your head, it's different nowadays. But that doesn't necessarily explain why people wanna sing opera.

Although “Gilligan’s Island” might.

Now, the reason I know some of the music for “Carmen” (actually, the reason you know some of the music for “Carmen”) is that it was used in a very famous episode of the show. Remember when Phil Silvers, as Broadway producer Harold Hecuba, landed on the island, and the castaways put on a musical version of “Hamlet”? Well, the music they used was from “Carmen”; when they’re singing “I ask to be, or not to be”, they’re singing along to “Habanera”, while “Les Toreadors”, which opens the opera, served as the basis for “Neither a borrower nor a lender be”.

Isn’t it amazing, isn't it? Americans are familiar with two of the world’s highest pieces of culture, Shakespeare and opera, because of one of the world’s lowest pieces of culture, “Gilligan’s Island”. It’s almost like if the Sistine Chapel had been painted by Hulk Hogan.

It boggles the mind.

One more opera related note to pass along; after hearing what this blog was going to be about, Loraine asked if I was going to tell you guys how I drove her crazy the rest of the weekend by singing the “Gilligan’s Island” version of the music. I could, but me driving her crazy with stupid stuff like that kind of goes without saying, right?

Opera. Who knew it could be so much fun?

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Monday, 9/24

I am sometimes stunned by the amount of food I bring to work with me on Mondays.

I'm sitting here looking at the stack right now, and it seems to me that the food I have packed up to take to work with me could feed a small nation. And yet it'll just be my lunch, snacks, and things to nibble on during one typical week. What do I have?

2 bags of salmon

4 apples

An orange

A head of broccoli

A bag of walnuts

A container of honey

3 cups of yogurt

A container of cottage cheese

Sliced turkey

Some leftover lentil beans

Part of a loaf of bread

A can of black beans

2 bottles of protein drink

One bottle of pomegranate juice

A box of green tea

2 chocolate bars.

See? That IS more like enough to feed a small nation, as opposed to one average person for one week. And it's pretty much what I carry with me (swapping out things here and there) each and every week so I can stay fed while working.

The mind boggles.

Now, one of the reasons I carry so much food with me is that most of the food I've listed is somewhat low in calories. I'm sure I could save a lot of time gathering and hauling the food around if I were to just purchase a one gallon tub of Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream, but I have a feeling I wouldn't get quite the nutritional value from it as I would get from the beans and the turkey and the broccoli. Besides, as much as I LOVE Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream (and I do love it a lot) I have a feeling that if I ate it twice a day five days a week that I probably wouldn't like it quite so much.

And my weight would probably reflect that, too.

So if you happen to see me lugging several large bags down the street this morning, don't worry. I'm not carrying anything out of the ordinary. It's just my lunch. Unless, of course, you consider the above list of foods as “out of the ordinary”!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 9/21

Well, today's the big day.

I know; that's a lot to live up to, isn't it? But there will be something happening at the end of this blog that some of us (well, okay, me) have been waiting for all week, and that's the unveiling of which picture will sit on my computer desktop at work for the next year.

But that's still a few paragraphs away. Before we get to that, I wanna remind everyone (or at least all the everyone reading this who are in the Marquette area) that the celebration of Graveraet's 90^th anniversary is coming up tomorrow. That's the celebration where I'm doing a (short) program on the history of the school beginning at 2 at Kaufman Auditorium. I don't know that the event has gotten a lot of press outside of being an event posted on Facebook, so I figured I'd mention it here just in case anyone is interested.

Just in case.

Other than that, I don't have a lot more to say today, if only because I have to scoot over to NMU for a meeting. What kind of meeting, you ask? Well, I answer, a production meeting for the 41^st season of “High School Bowl”! That's right...we start production on another season of the show (my 5^th year) in the next week or week and a half, and the meeting will get everyone on the same page. We're thinking of making one or two small changes to the show this year, mostly in the way it looks (thanks to a new lighting system), and want to make sure everything's set to go for the first show.

So with that being said, I should get going. However, I do need to reveal the winner of YOUR vote to figure out which picture appears on my computer desktop for the next year. Tuesday I gave you five choices, and I've been collecting those votes since then. So without further ago (but with a little space added in for dramatic effect) here's what I'll be looking at every morning when I come into work.

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Moo.

Thanks for your votes, and have a great weekend. Stay warm & dry!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 9/20

Okay. The dreams can stop any time now.

As most of you know I drove over 1,100 kilometers (about 600 miles or so) during our German getaway. As I mentioned last week for me, that's somewhere between 85 and 90 percent of the total mileage I drive all year, compacted into a 12 or so day span. And I'm guessing that's the reason why, almost every night since we've gotten back, I've had dreams about driving.

Some dreams I'm just driving around like a normal person does. Some dreams, I'm driving around in circles, not knowing where I'm going (much like several days I've experienced in Europe, especially before GPS). And in some dreams I think I'm driving but, as it turns out, I'm actually doing something else (like running) when I'm supposed to be driving.

The human brain is weird, isn't it?

This is the first time I've had dreams about driving after returning from a trip. Normally, at least as far as I've noticed, I've NEVER had dreams about driving, especially for almost 10 days in a row. I don't know what caused it; sure, all the construction and detours that we ran into this time were a hassle, but nothing that (I thought) would've scarred my psyche to the extent that I'd have dreams about driving for a week and a half straight. And if that were the case, wouldn't you think that all of my dreams would tend toward the bizarre and/or nightmarish? Nope; a large chunk of the dreams just involve me driving without getting lost or me driving with all my clothes on.

I don't get it.

But then, that's kind of the point of dreams, right? It's your subconscious trying to work out whatever issues it's dealing with at the moment. You're not supposed to entirely understand them. You're just supposed to wake from them feeling refreshed. Or, in this case, with a weird feeling that your brain's not doing what it's supposed to do.

Maybe, deep down, my brain is telling me that it misses driving. After all, I never had dreams like this when I drove to work all the time. And I didn't have any dreams about driving while I was actually driving every day in Europe. The dreams didn't start until I came back and stopped driving. So maybe that does have something to do with it. The only thing is...how come I didn't have these dreams after coming back from Europe other years during trips where I also drove everywhere?

I don't get it.

Hopefully, one night soon I'll have normal dreams, dreams of Loraine or of chocolate or of flying on a dragon while wearing a kilt (what...you don't have dreams like that?). Either that, or pretty soon I'll start having dreams about entering an around the world driving rally, or something like that.

With my brain, you never know.

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—one day left for you to vote on the picture that sits on my computer desktop for the next year. If you haven't cast your ballot yet, do so before midnight tonight!)

Wednesday, 9/19

Without even realizing it, I’ve been doing something I haven’t needed to do since I was a kid. And after thinking about, I’m guessing I’ll probably never stop.

Here’s the deal--a couple of nights ago I walked into my kitchen and noticed there was a large collection of twist ties sitting on the table. You know twist ties, right? The little strips that hold bread bags (among other things) closed? I scooped them up and stuck them into a bag where I keep all my extra twist ties, a bag that was overflowing to bursting, and THAT’S when I realized what I’ve been doing all these years.

I’ve been saving twist ties, just like my mom once told me to.

Don’t worry; my mom’s not strange or anything, although given the way I turned out I can’t blame you for wondering. Nope; when I was a kid, she would pack everyone’s lunches for school and work every day. And since that was back in the 1870s and they didn’t have sandwich bags with resealable closures on them, she would use twist ties to seal up whatever little plastic bags she needed to seal up. Since there were several of us who needed various bags closed, she would go through twist ties quite rapidly. Because of that, they were a precious commodity in our household, and we were instructed to save them and bring them back home with us.

And that's something I’ve apparently been doing ever since, without even thinking about it.

It’s funny how things we do when we’re kids stick with us when we’re adults, even when we don’t need to do them any more. I mean, with the exception of using them to close kitchen trash bags, I really don’t have a need for twist ties any more. Yet here I am, thirty-some years removed from actually having to save them, and what do I do? Every time I have an extra one, I hang on to it and throw it on to the pile. No, I’m not a hoarder and no, I don’t play one on TV.

I’ve just seem to act like one, at least as far as twist ties go.

I wonder how many other little habits and tics, habits and tics to which I don’t even give a second thought, I picked up as a kid? Since they seem like they’re a part of my every day lifestyle, I probably wouldn’t even notice them. But I have to wonder if there was something in my childhood that caused me to pick up strange habits I continue to this day, everything from making up my own (stupid) lyrics to current songs to always handwriting a capital “R” even when it’s in the middle of a word.

After all, if I do it with twist ties, who’s to say I don’t do it with a lot of other things. Now that I think about it, that would actually explain a lot. So if you ever see me walking the street doing something that’s uniquely “me”, remember that it’s not my fault.

I picked it up while growing up.

****

And speaking of the people who raised me to become the person I am today (you know, the person who still saves his twist ties), it’s their anniversary today. That’s right; Chicky-Poo and Dar are celebrating another year together. So Happy Anniversary Mom & Dad; I’ll see you for lunch in just a little bit!

(jim@wmqt.com)

(ps—don't forget to get your votes in for which picture I'm gonna have on my computer desktop for the next year. The qualifiers and the details are in yesterday's blog, so go ahead and check it out!)