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Bascomb James
Author | Scientist | Science Fiction Fan

Opening Day of Deer Season

11/15/2015

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PicturePhoto by Charles Romanik.
Up North Stories. Today is the Opening Day of firearm deer season in Michigan, a sacred day for many northerners.  Approximately 600,000 deer hunters got up well before dawn, pulled on their blaze orange vestments, and spent the day worshiping at the shrine of St. Antlers. Opening Day is the northern version of Mardi Gras, heralding a two week pilgrimage into the woods and fields. Workmen are as scarce as hen’s teeth during the season and I had to hustle to get my garage door fixed well before the sacred event.

Craft shows and bazaars flourish as deer camp widows make a different kind of pilgrimage. I'm not trying  to be sexist, so I'll mention that an increasing number of women are blaze orange acolytes and they too spent time in the woods with firearms.


Local hotels and motels are full as out-of-towners come to share the experience. Restaurants, bars, and party stores see an uptick in business as hunters unwind or pick up a few last-minute items.

For the non-hunter, the Up North world changes significantly during the first week of deer season. The pace is slower as the community feels the absence of so many members. Depending upon your perspective, deer season can a shot of social Novocain or it can be a quiet holiday without all the commercial hype. 
 

For many people, hunting is a solitary endeavor but it’s also about tradition, spending time with family and friends, telling stories, building memories, and enjoying the downtime. For others, deer hunting is an organized travesty and the inconveniences are aggravating.​

It really doesn’t matter where you stand on the hunting issue. When you live Up North, hunting season is what it is.

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Coffee with Grandpa

5/11/2015

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Up North Stories.  My grandparents were poor Mennonite dairy farmers who lived near Fairview Michigan. Every day is a work day on a dairy farm, and workdays started early. Grandma would stoke the wood-burning cook stove and make breakfast while Grandpa brought in firewood and started his chores. When breakfast was ready, they would eat and talk about the day. After breakfast, Grandpa went down the hill to milk the cows and Grandma cleared away the dishes and attended to her chores.

When the milking was finished, Grandpa came back up the hill for coffee and toast. I remember Grandpa’s cup, a sturdy cream colored vessel with a round tapered bottom and a one-finger handle high on the side. When I see this style today it’s always a “Grandpa Cup.”

Coffee with Grandpa was instant coffee with milk and sugar and two slices of toast. I’m sure he had coffee cake or pastry once in a while, but I remember the toast. Grandpa buttered his toast, folded it in half, and dunked it into his coffee before taking a bite. He would eat soggy toast and drink his coffee every morning. I don’t think he noticed the buttery film floating on top of the coffee and coating his cup.

Grandpa and I were pretty close. Whenever we visited, I would sit with him while he had his coffee. Mom and Grandma believed children should not drink coffee – “it would stunt your growth” - so I sat at the table with my toast and a glass of milk. Sometimes, when Grandma was in the next room, Grandpa brought a second cup to the table - a cup just like his! Grandpa would wink at me and with a finger pressed to his lips, he would transfer several spoonfuls of his coffee to my cup and fill the cup with milk. I was so proud at these moments because I was having coffee, just like Grandpa. And just like Grandpa, I folded my toast and dunked it.

You may be interested in these Up North Stories:

New Feature:  Up North Stories
Skinny Dip
Radio and the Fabric of our Lives
Early Reading Experiences

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Skinny Dip

8/6/2014

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Picture
Up North Stories. It is amazing how smells and fragrances trigger old memories and feelings. I was in a crowd of people one evening and a familiar fragrance transported me to another time…

Cathy was two years behind me in school. Her delighted laughter greeted anything that caught her imagination—leaves artfully tangled in a spider web; the smell of wet sidewalks after a summer rain; dandelion wishes; and lightning bugs. 

Hopscotch marks had to be honored whenever they were discovered—it didn'
t matter what she was wearing, where she was going, or how late she might be. One two one - two one - two one and return.     

Her enthusiasm was infectious. She danced and twirled to music from the radio, singing the lyrics fearlessly; unabashedly enjoying the moment. Cathy loved modern music from exotic, far away AM stations; WOWO in Ft. Wayne, CKLW in Canada. Delicious, frowned-upon music that reached our town only after sunset.

Her perfume reflected her personality. Skinny Dip was exuberant, uncomplicated, unmistakable. It caught your attention like the tickle-belly hills near Black River or an unexpected giggle in the back of the theater. That smell, her smell would follow me for days. It permeated my clothing, it lived in my pores. I could smell it when no one else could.

Skinny Dip has long been discontinued but it found me that evening, wafting on the night breeze. It tickled, it comforted. It made me smile. 

You may be interested in these Up North Story posts
New Feature:  Up North Stories
Skinny Dip
Radio and the Fabric of our Lives
Early Reading Experiences


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Radio and the Fabric of our Lives

7/17/2014

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PictureMontgomery Ward radio, circa 1936.
Up North Stories.  I borrowed this tombstone style radio from a colleague for a photography project and it brought back a lot of memories. This particular model (Model number 62-185) was manufactured around 1936 by Montgomery Ward and Company (remember Monkey Wards?) in Chicago, Illinois.

The date reminded me of stories my Mom would tell about listening to the radio.  On Friday evenings, her family would go down the road to Aunt Nellie’s house on Helmer Lake and both families would sit close to the radio and listen to programs from far away. It was an important social event. They listened to variety shows and serials sponsored by soap companies (hence the name “soap operas”).

Mom is gone now so I cannot ask her what programs they listened to most, but she told us about the Jack Benny Show and Fibber McGee and Molly. The Shadow was so disturbing that some people wouldn't listen to it.

Radio transformed America because it brought strangers and strange ideas right into the American home, the bedrock of the American gestalt. Radio personalities from far off cities were discussed as if they were members of the community and some, like they were family members.

Radio continued to be important even after TV became available. The radio brought us news throughout the day--local happenings, breaking events, weather, and sports.  I remember my Dad and uncles listening to Detroit Tiger games on the radio. My father-in-law did too. My Mom had the radio playing in the kitchen almost all the time.

AM signals didn’t travel far during the day but when the sun went down, we would get signals from all over. My favorite stations were WOWO in Ft. Wayne, CKLW out of Windsor Ontario, and of course WLS from Chicago. They played rock and roll and Top 40 songs all night. This was our “secret” vice. My Dad didn’t like “Rock and Roll crap.” His derision made the music even more delicious. More importantly, we could listen to our heart's content using an inexpensive transistor radio and an ear phone. Many of us strung wires in our bedroom to improve reception. We got even better reception with the car radio.

Ah, the car and the car radio. Two freedom machines, one inside the other. We could go where we wanted and play our music out loud!  We could howl with Wolfman Jack, drum along with Wipeout, and sing with everything. Sometimes we even sang the right words! And who could forget submarine races and making out while the radio played in the background? (Mom would be saying “Oh my!” right about now.) 


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Multiband dial with station call signs
When I looked closely at the dial of this old radio, I was surprised to see radio station call letters printed on the dial. No manufacturer would do that today. Things change too quickly. I am also struck by the amount of empty space between the stations. Those of us who use the scan button to find new stations know it takes forever to scan through the frequencies. In cities, there is almost no space between signals. There are more frequency gaps Up North, but they too are filling up.

Radio has been with us for a long time. Today we have many radio options--FM, AM, satellite radio, and internet radio just to name a few. We can listen to radio stations from around the world in real time. We also get uber-local information from the same device. Radio has changed a lot since my Mom’s time but it's still woven into the fabric of our lives.

You may be interested in these Up North Story posts
New Feature:  Up North Stories
Skinny Dip
Radio and the Fabric of our Lives
Early Reading Experiences
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New Feature - Up North Stories

7/15/2014

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I am pleased to present Up North Stories, a series of conversational vignettes describing life in a Northern tier state.  Some of these stories will be personal, some general.  Some stories will remind you of where you live, and others will be decidedly alien.  It’s all good. 

You see I come from a family of storytellers.  When we get together, we sit at the kitchen table and share stories and experiences.  Some stories are as familiar as an old pair of boots that fit perfectly because we have traveled the long road together. We may all know the story by heart, but the telling is the important thing.  The shared laughter, love, and exasperation bind us together into a patchwork quilt of shared experience.  And like a quilt, the interlocked pieces are stronger and more comforting than any individual element. Our stories remind us of who we are and how we are connected. They remind us that we are family. 

Welcome to the kitchen table.  You too can participate by posting a comment or by sending me a message.  It’s all good.

You may be interested in these Up North Story posts
New Feature:  Up North Stories
Skinny Dip
Radio and the Fabric of our Lives
Early Reading Experiences
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Early Reading Experiences

6/4/2014

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Picture
Up North Stories. Books and reading were an important part of my childhood experiences.  As a young boy, I read a mish-mash of science fiction, adventure, mysteries, and military fiction stories.  

My family didn't have much money and our small town library only had a few science fiction titles, so we swapped books. Lots and lots of books.  

One of my neighbors and a few of my dad’s friends were voracious readers and every month or so, Dad would bring home a grocery bag filled with dog-eared paperbacks.  The bags exuded that wonderful aroma of musty-dusty shelves and old paper.  For me, the bags were equal parts reality and magic.  Every cover was a doorway to distant lands, new sights, and new adventures.  Grocery bags brought Heinlein, Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Bradbury, Eric Frank Russell and so many others into my home and my imagination. 

I can still remember my delight when I pulled the first head-to toe (tête-bêche) book from the bag.  The back cover of the first book was actually the front cover of the second book, but rotated 180 degrees. How cool was that?  

Because so many people contributed to the bag, the contents often included a mixture of other titles and genera.  Sometimes there was a paperback classic such as Ivanhoe, a Western horse opera or two, Doc Savage stories, or a Mickey Spillane book.  Special bags would have one or two yellowed copies of pulp SciFi magazines like Astounding or Amazing Stories.   I don’t know if it was my imagination or reality, but the older yellowed books always seemed lighter than the newer books.

With this sharing program, I always had five or  ten books waiting for me.  I read the books and returned them to the bag.  When the bag was full, I swapped it with my neighbor for a bag of his books.  My dad would take my neighbor’s books and swap them with his friends.  I never really knew how far this sharing circle extended, but I was grateful for its existence.

You may be interested in these Up North Story posts
New Feature:  Up North Stories
Skinny Dip
Radio and the Fabric of our Lives
Early Reading Experiences


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