Wednesday, 4/30

Once again, it appears as if I'm a bit of a moron.

Yesterday I shared the tale of how I wrote an entire TV piece, only to realize I had written the same basic thing just a few weeks earlier. That wasn't the only time my moronicity (which, by the way, is now an official word) popped up this weekend. Sunday, while Loraine & I were out, I snapped a picture--

I put on social media, along with the captions “In a sure sign of Spring, the trees in Marquette have started to bloom”. It got a bunch of chuckles and responses, one of which said--

“Jim, you missed a big chance. You should have said 'the trees in Marquette are Budding'”.

And, as soon as I looked at the picture, I realized how I am, indeed, a moron. The bottle sitting on the tree branch?

It's Budweiser. The tree literally WAS budding, and I didn't use that as the gag.

Sigh. As the risk of repeating myself, sometimes I amaze myself. And it's hardly ever in a good way.

I don't know why I didn't think of that joke. I knew the bottle was Bud, but for whatever reason my pea brain (perhaps a bit distracted by its journey into moronicity a few hours earlier) didn't put two and two together. And that would have been a GREAT caption. I'm just glad someone noticed it and mentioned it; based on response to it, the comment was almost as popular as the original post itself.

So...I blew that one. But I'm glad someone swooped in to make the save, and the proper gag was saved for posterity. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to work where, I'm pretty sure, I'll do something so dumb that I'll once again amaze myself with my moronicity.

Because, you know, it's been that kind of week.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 4/29

Despite the fact that I'm a bit of a moron, I think it turned out quite well.

As you can imagine, when you write a weekly piece for TV you get a lot of ideas floating through your head. And sometimes, you get ideas that seem a little...familiar. A case in point?

Late last week, I had a picture I wanted to use, and had what I thought would be a perfect idea for a “Life in the 906” that would allow me to to use this shot--

This past weekend, as I was writing that bit, something started to gnaw at my brain. I wasn't quite sure what it was, but there seemed to be something...off about what I was writing. Then I typed a line that I thought particularly cute, and realized why the whole thing seemed a little off.

I had written and performed the piece I thought would be a perfect idea for yesterday a month ago. I didn't even remember that that “perfect idea” was also perfect on March 24^th.

Sometimes, I amaze even myself. And usually not in a good way.

After sitting for a few minutes and shaking my head in disbelief, I realized I still had the picture, and (hoped) I could use it as the basis for something new. It took a few minutes, but after a little pondering and a lot of self-incrimination, I stumbled upon a way to use that picture in a new piece, one that combined a little poetry, a lot of nice photographs, and at least two references to “Dirty Dancing”.

In other words, it was almost everything I want in a “Life in the 906”.

I'll be the first to admit I got lucky this time around. I can, however, foresee a future weekend when I have what I think is a good idea, only discover (hopefully not too late) that I did it last week or last month or last year, and not be able to throw something together quite so easily. I guess that's one of those things you have to deal with when you've done over 130 TV bits, and (sadly) also something you have to deal with when you're a moron.

You know...like me.

(jim@wmqt.com)

(PS--Because of a technical issues I didn't actually get to read the last paragraph I wrote, and because of another technical issue I don't have a recording of it.  So here, if you're curious, is the script in its entirety--

There’s one word that you usually don’t think of when you think of the UP.  But we’re in a two or three week span right now where that adjective, sadly, might apply.

You see, we’re in that two or three week span when, and I apologize for using a four letter word here, the UP is dull.

During the summer the UP is one of the most beautiful places on the planet.  As fall kicks into gear we get to live among an explosion of color.  

And even though I am severely opposed to the concept of winter, there is an ethereal beauty associated with it.

But for the two or three weeks in which we currently find ourselves, the weeks after the snow melts but before the grass turns green?  Not so much.  Almost anywhere you look in the UP it’s a mix of brown and gray, a jambalaya of leftover sand, leftover leaves, & leftover dog poop.

It just looks dull.  And making Upper Michigan look dull is like putting Baby in a corner.  Nobody should ever do that.  Yet for these two or three weeks Mother Nature is acting like Johnny Castle never uttered those immortal words.

It’s just not right.  After the winters we have up here, I‘d like to think we deserve better.

But during these few weeks we start to see the signs that we will be dull no more.  The browns and the grays are already starting to fade away.   

Grass is slowly darkening into green.  

Trees are teasing us with buds that will soon become leafs.  

And the first flowers are starting to poke their heads above ground, all signs that in just another two or three weeks the UP will be at its full glory, ready to dazzle us with the beauty of our short but spectacular summer.

But for this week, and maybe next, that beauty is just a dream for the future. Until then, we’ll just have to make it through the one time of the year when you can honestly call the UP a four letter word.

Dull.

I’m Jim Koski, and that’s another slice of “Life in the 906”

Monday, 4/28

I might want to join Instagram just for this one page.

While reading the paper Sunday morning (yes, I still read those mythical things called “newspapers”, even if it's the New York Times on a laptop) I came across an article on a very strange Instagram page called “the Depths of Wikipedia”. It was started by a University of Michigan student during Covid lockdowns, and highlights some of the strangest things you'll ever find on Wikipedia.

And some of it is hilarious.

Now, I've laughed my head off at Wikipedia entries on my own. After all, when you have a crowd-sourced encyclopedia, you're bound to find strange and unusual stuff, like the time I was looking up hockey player Jaromir Jagr for Loraine and read in the “personal facts” section of his entry that he had just married a goat. Sports and political figures have the most snark and inaccuracies in their entries; probably not surprising when you consider all the fandom and political agendas out there.

But the cake was probably taken by one of the Wikipedia pages showcased in the article, a page for a song called “The Most Unwanted Song”. It's an actual tune from the mid 90s put together by two avant-garde artists and a composer. When I saw the description of the song I literally did a spit take (I usually drink tea while reading my newspaper, after all). It's not snarky and, as far as I can tell, there's nothing fake about it. Apparently, the song is just this bizarre---

“The song was designed to incorporate lyrical and musical elements that were annoying to most people. These elements included bagpipes, cowboy music, an opera singer rapping, and a children's choir that urged listeners to go shopping at Walmart.”.

Does that sound like a good song or what? And here's the topper—it's 21 minutes long. Yes...over a third of an hour of aural irritation. So, for your listening pleasure...

Let me guess—you didn't make it through even the first minute, right? Don't worry; neither did I. But thanks, “The Depths of Wikipedia”. Now I at least know something like that exists.

I appreciate it.

8-)

(jim@wmqt.com)

Friday, 4/25

You know how there are “dog years”? I wonder if there are “car years”, as well.

The reason that thought popped into my head is that I have to run Loraine's car out to Fox Chevy in a little bit to get new front brake pads & rotors. When I got the oil changed last week they noticed the parts needed replacement, and Loraine likes her car almost as much as (if not more than) me, so I told her I'd take care of it.

And I shall.

Because I know nothing at all about cars (sorry, Dad) I guess I'm a little confused as to why the front brakes are bad while the back ones aren't (because it's a front wheel drive car?). But more to the point, her car, after seven years, only has 13,000 miles on it, so you'd think that most parts would still be fine.

And that's why I started to think of “car years”.

One of the things my in-house car expert (hi again, Dad) is always telling us is that we have to take the car out for more than a spin to the grocery store every so often, because the parts in the vehicle need to get used. We try; we're not always successful, but we try. And if the car has spent the vast majority of the past seven years sitting in our driveway, I'm guessing that would make it like a human sitting in a recliner for seven years.

Things would start not working, and would start not working fast.

So even though the car's seven years old, how old would that make it in human years? I mean, a “dog” year is equal to seven “human” years. If we take that number and apply it to Loraine's car, that would make it almost 50 (human) years old. And that way, I could see why things like the front brakes would need to get replaced.

Even if they haven't been used very much.

I have no idea if “car” years is an actual thing or if I'm just really out there. But when you have something you don't use very much yet have to take it in for a little TLC, things like that pop into your head.

Or, at least, they pop into my head.

So I'll be taking an occasionally wise old man's (hi yet again, Dad) advice and bringing Loraine's car up for a little minor surgery in a few minutes. And while I'm there, who knows--

Maybe I'll ask the people at Fox if there IS a human equivalent for “car years”. Or maybe not. After all, I get enough strange looks directed my way as it is.

8-)

Have a great weekend, everyone!

(jim@wmqt.com)

Thursday, 4/24

I'm now trying to decide—should it be the Lighthouse, or the Ore Dock?

For many years, I've thought the most photographed/painted/drawn/sketched/sculpted/needle-pointed landmark in the city of Marquette is the city's iconic old Lighthouse--

It's big, it's red, and you can go to any local art or craft store and see many examples of how it inspires the city's creative artists. I'll admit; even though I don't consider myself an “artist”, that I still have hundreds of shots (and more than a few examples of video B-roll) of the structure. It's been like that as long as I can remember, and I'm sure you'll be seeing interpretations of it for decades to come.

But recently, I've been noticing more and more photos/paintings/drawings/sketches/sculptures and needle-points of DSS&A Dock #6, or, as we simply call it, “the Ore Dock”.

In fact, I went around my apartment just now and counted 5 examples (including needlepoint, lest you think I'm kidding) of the Lighthouse, which is probably average for a Marquette resident. But the Ore Dock? 10 pieces of art, including a VERY big photograph taken during “Orehenge”, the twice a year phenomenon wherein the sun rises directly through the empty guts of the structure.

At least in my apartment, and, I'm guessing, most of Marquette, the Ore Dock is now the most photographed/painted/drawn/sketched/sculpted/needle-pointed landmark in the city of Marquette. (And yes, I HAVE seen a needle point of it. I just don't have one).

Why the gradual shift? I'm not sure. One theory I might put forth is that the Ore Dock is a lot cleaner, for lack of a better word, than it was 25 years ago. Before 2000 it was still grungy and, in many people's minds, representative of those old days when trains would be on top it it, belching smoke into the air and disgorging iron ore dust into its chutes. But once the old trestle leading up to it was torn down just after the turn of the century, people seem to have forgotten that it's one of the last remaining signs of the old industrial Marquette. It's now a city icon, something with which we grew up and something without which we couldn't imagine Marquette.

Like I said, that's just a theory. But it could be the reason.

I'm sure neither structure will be lacking in photos/paintings/drawings/sketches/sculptures and needle-points any year in the near future, and perhaps the Lighthouse will once again claim the throne. But for now, it seems like the city has a new artist muse--

DS&A Dock #6.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Wednesday, 4/23

They're both kind of the same. But they're also both really, really different.

A couple of days ago someone asked me a question that I hadn't personally considered—if there's any difference writing these blogs and the TV bits I do every Monday. Like I said, I had never even thought about that, but her question made me think which, as we all know, can be a dangerous thing.

And the conclusion to which I came is that they're actually quite different.

I mean, both these daily musings and my weekly thing are, at their core, just essays. It's just me rambling about whatever comes into my head (and, as an aside, things keep coming into my head. I rue the day when I sit here with an empty brain.

And keep those snotty comments about that last line to yourself. 8-))

Anyway, the more I thought about it the more I realized the difference between the two, at least from a technical point of view. These things can be as long or as short as I want, and include occasionally tortured syntax, weird ideas, and long, rambling statements.

My TV pieces, though, need to be precise...concise. They need to be two minutes long, give or take a few seconds. I need to write them to be spoken, instead of writing them to be read (which, until you have to do it, is something you don't even think about) And unlike these, with their (occasionally) esoteric topics, the TV bits need to talk about something that interests the entire UP. Or, at least, something that might interest a significant chunk of the UP.

Unlike a fair percentage of these.

I will admit, though, that writing these for over two decades has made writing the TV bits a piece of cake. Well, maybe “piece of cake” isn't quite the correct word, seeing how much work they can occasionally be. But consider these daily ramblings my gateway drug into the world of TV, because like I said--

If you can write one of these every day, then writing another one a week, even with all of its differences, is probably a whole lot easier than starting from scratch.

(jim@wmqt.com)

Tuesday, 4/22

If you're lucky enough to look in the right spot, you can see the signs that the changes, they are a-comin'.

I've always been of the opinion that Spring (or at least what passes for it around here) is the one season where Marquette does not look its best. Think of it; in March (or this year April, thanks to our late winter), the snow's melting, leaving piles of dirt and dog crap everywhere. No one likes to see that. And then in April and early May, there's no color. The grass is brown, the leaves haven't popped out, and everything is just kinda “blah”. But there is hope, as I noticed over the weekend when I took one of my cameras and went out for a walk.

Everywhere you looked, Marquette was still Marquette, but without any color, especially on Saturday when it was cold & rainy. I don't think I've ever called Marquette this, but on Saturday Marquette looked...dull--

The weekend did get a little better, at least on Sunday when the sun popped out here and there. The city wasn't quite as dull, but you could tell it's still in the process of shedding this weird winter. For instance, while the snow's gone in the city, it's still sitting on Marquette Mountain--

Even the robins notice there's not much color out there--

But if you know where to look and you look close enough, you can see signs that things are changing. In fact, if you want an inkling of hope, a sign that changes may be on the way, take a glance at this--

Hopefully, the colors continue to keep popping out, and the grays and the browns slowly disappear. The forecast for the next few days calls for temps in the 50s and (perhaps) even the 60s; if the flowers above have popped out when it's been in the 30s and 40s, can you imagine what things would look like after a few days of actual Spring-like weather?

It's almost enough to make one giddy. So keep you fingers crossed, if you would. The days of Marquette looking less than world-class may be over quickly this year!

(jim@wmqt.com)