after Jan Tucker
I have been visiting my small home town in Northern Michigan, where everything that is going to happen on any given day has to happen after Jan Tucker. Jan Tucker has had a radio show every weekday since I was a little kid. It is on from 09 to 1030 or so and I think everyone in my town and the surrounding area goes on hold till they find out who is in jail, who died and what the recipe of the day will be. And, if you call her, she will wish anyone you want a happy birthday on the air. If your name is announced, you can pick up a coupon good for $5 at Syl's, which is a restaurant one town over.
"Turn down your radio" Jan always has to tell people when they call her. They always forget but she reminds them. My mother has one of the morning shows on TV and she puts that on mute, and listens to Jan Tucker on full blast. Jan knows everything, from the weather to all the current events. I like that this show continues because it might be the only thing that gets people to listen to the radio, even for a minute, and turn off the TV. I think it is a rare thing - a call in radio show with the local news. Jan's husband was also my algebra teacher.
Today I got my run in during Jan Tucker, which must have been a sin to some. I ran the circumference of the town about 3 times and still only got 5 miles. I ran past much of my childhood, some of it still intact - and some not, like my grade school which is now a library and a museum, and my Grandma's house, or at least where it used to stand, which is now home to several feral cats that my sister has been feeding for many generations, for as long as I can remember. She even built them a shelter so they can withstand the tough winters. There's some kind of weird animal that sometimes gets them...I can't remember the name but I think it is a weasel like creature - a marlin maybe? The community building is still standing, where I attended many weddings and went to Wednesday night bingo. The bar is still there, the only place in town to get some food. It is over one hundred years old and some folks that were still sitting there in my childhood are still there - sort of. Swift, who must be 80 (his real name is Clarence) has some type of face cancer so he is afraid to come out till he gets better. I saw him last night when I was walking my sister's fat dog Willie. Swift only ventured around the block. I stopped and talked to him. Since I am a nurse, his appearance didn't shock me too much - a non seeing eye, and a lot of scabs on his face covered by a mosquito net looking thing - which is probably a good idea, cancer or not, up here. I hugged him and told him that I would buy him a beer next time I saw him in the bar. I hope I see him there again. Most of the people I know are in the pretty cemetery about a mile out of town - I have run there too.
Speaking of cemeteries, My uncle of sorts - more like a cousin, but someone who my parents have known forever and I run with his daughters when I come home, died a few days ago so I get to attend his funeral in the little church that was also part of my childhood - at least it's predecessor which burned to the ground and was replaced with one very similar to it and very fitting in this town. My mom's and sister's kitchen chairs came from that church, along with some candle holders I have. My brother, drunk or not, (usually drunk) is a volunteer fire fighter so while he was fighting the church fire, he managed to get a few mementos for us. Anyway, tomorrow I will get to run with the Kimmies, which is my daughter's nickname for my uncle's daughters. One of them is named Kim, and the others have various names all starting with K. I am sorry that, like me, they have had to join the rank of fatherless daughters. Hopefully my dad came down and escorted him to wherever he is going.
Anyway, the during Jan Tucker run was a good one as last night I managed to not drink too many beers and resisted the evil crabby juice (cheap whiskey and Pepsi). The air is intoxicating but if you run for more than a mile in any one direction you will be out of town and my mom has a fit about that because I might see the mythical cougars they talk about. As I ran down the hill to my mom's trailer, past my sister's trailer that she is moving into slowly but surely (after Jan Tucker), I realized that both their homes are on the baseball field where I once caught a pop up in center field, and Alan Schust, the only fat kid I can remember in my town, fell over in shock. We also played kick the can - all the kids in the town did. I thought of this as I finished my run.
Tomorrow, sometime after Jan Tucker, and after the funeral and the lunch served by the church ladies, we will go to the casino. I will run with the Kimmies before Jan. Life, be it ever so humble, is good in a small town - but only after Jan.
"Turn down your radio" Jan always has to tell people when they call her. They always forget but she reminds them. My mother has one of the morning shows on TV and she puts that on mute, and listens to Jan Tucker on full blast. Jan knows everything, from the weather to all the current events. I like that this show continues because it might be the only thing that gets people to listen to the radio, even for a minute, and turn off the TV. I think it is a rare thing - a call in radio show with the local news. Jan's husband was also my algebra teacher.
Today I got my run in during Jan Tucker, which must have been a sin to some. I ran the circumference of the town about 3 times and still only got 5 miles. I ran past much of my childhood, some of it still intact - and some not, like my grade school which is now a library and a museum, and my Grandma's house, or at least where it used to stand, which is now home to several feral cats that my sister has been feeding for many generations, for as long as I can remember. She even built them a shelter so they can withstand the tough winters. There's some kind of weird animal that sometimes gets them...I can't remember the name but I think it is a weasel like creature - a marlin maybe? The community building is still standing, where I attended many weddings and went to Wednesday night bingo. The bar is still there, the only place in town to get some food. It is over one hundred years old and some folks that were still sitting there in my childhood are still there - sort of. Swift, who must be 80 (his real name is Clarence) has some type of face cancer so he is afraid to come out till he gets better. I saw him last night when I was walking my sister's fat dog Willie. Swift only ventured around the block. I stopped and talked to him. Since I am a nurse, his appearance didn't shock me too much - a non seeing eye, and a lot of scabs on his face covered by a mosquito net looking thing - which is probably a good idea, cancer or not, up here. I hugged him and told him that I would buy him a beer next time I saw him in the bar. I hope I see him there again. Most of the people I know are in the pretty cemetery about a mile out of town - I have run there too.
Speaking of cemeteries, My uncle of sorts - more like a cousin, but someone who my parents have known forever and I run with his daughters when I come home, died a few days ago so I get to attend his funeral in the little church that was also part of my childhood - at least it's predecessor which burned to the ground and was replaced with one very similar to it and very fitting in this town. My mom's and sister's kitchen chairs came from that church, along with some candle holders I have. My brother, drunk or not, (usually drunk) is a volunteer fire fighter so while he was fighting the church fire, he managed to get a few mementos for us. Anyway, tomorrow I will get to run with the Kimmies, which is my daughter's nickname for my uncle's daughters. One of them is named Kim, and the others have various names all starting with K. I am sorry that, like me, they have had to join the rank of fatherless daughters. Hopefully my dad came down and escorted him to wherever he is going.
Anyway, the during Jan Tucker run was a good one as last night I managed to not drink too many beers and resisted the evil crabby juice (cheap whiskey and Pepsi). The air is intoxicating but if you run for more than a mile in any one direction you will be out of town and my mom has a fit about that because I might see the mythical cougars they talk about. As I ran down the hill to my mom's trailer, past my sister's trailer that she is moving into slowly but surely (after Jan Tucker), I realized that both their homes are on the baseball field where I once caught a pop up in center field, and Alan Schust, the only fat kid I can remember in my town, fell over in shock. We also played kick the can - all the kids in the town did. I thought of this as I finished my run.
Tomorrow, sometime after Jan Tucker, and after the funeral and the lunch served by the church ladies, we will go to the casino. I will run with the Kimmies before Jan. Life, be it ever so humble, is good in a small town - but only after Jan.
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