Sunday, February 8, 2026

Super Bowl Fish - Murphy's Law

Murphy's Law states that anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. I experienced the law this morning attempting to catch the big one ice fishing on Betsie Bay. You can't blame me for preparation as I pulled all my fishing equipment from the garage rafters yesterday and re-strung what needed to be strung and purchased some quality bait for the attempt.
Off I went this morning for the short walk down to the water and about 20 others were out in the Bay doing the same. I found my dream spot, put the equipment aside and got the power auger ready to go. First attempt, no start.  Second attempt, no start. Third, same. My pea brain memory started to recall last year of doing the same (eventually started after about 20 tries) and telling myself to make sure it starts at home next time. I tried all my tricks but it was not to be. A local fishing nearby took pity on me and drilled a few holes. The holes got drilled, I set up my shanty/tip-ups and was ready to find the whopper. While grabbing for my bait, I found that I had grabbed the auger blade and now had a nice gusher of a cut on my hand that didn't want to stop bleeding (it eventually did). If there was any hook that was exposed this morning, 9 times out of 10, my clothing seemed to grab it and not let go. 
Needless to way, the big whopper was not found, however, I did see one nearby tip-up pulling in a nice pike.
Auger for sale. Needs some work...
Trail Head

not mine but a nice catch by a local this morning

only blood in my shanty was mine



Monday, January 26, 2026

you can visit but sometimes hard to leave town

The main entrance into the town where I reside encompasses a very large hill that presents a beautiful panoramic view of Lake Michigan at the top when you enter town. When you leave town in the winter, however, a little different story as many a vehicles have made it up halfway of the attached hill only to spin their tires, slowly do a 180 and head back down the hill in search of another way to leave town. I shouldn't laugh (but do) as I had a mini-truck (2WD) awhile back and attempted to make it up a friend's driveway one time. The driveway was not that steep but yours truly did not make it; and others laughed.
With that, if you are ever leaving the Frankfort area on M-115 headed east, punch that accelerator around the A&W or the little train that could won't.
Trail Head




Sunday, January 18, 2026

Religion

Comedian Jim Gaffigan has the line, “I do want everyone to feel comfortable, that’s why I’d like to talk to you about Jesus.” 

Not to be outdone, George Carlin doesn’t mince words on the subject.

Queuing the way back machine to my youth and the subject. My dad was raised strict Catholic, went to Catholic schools and was a lector at the local church wherever we were residing at the time. With that, it was tradition for the family to hit mass every Sunday. They dragged me to catechism (literally, one of the memories of my youth was crying my ass off as I was being dragged into a room of other kids). My brother was an altar boy and while I was either drifting off to day dream world when it went down or other, but the story goes that my brother was holding a lighted candle and just about burned the person’s hair standing in front of him if it weren’t for someone interjecting at the last minute. 
As we grew older, my parents left it to ourselves in attending. I eventually became an annual attender. Observations at that point: 
- What is with all the kneeling as most masses have quite a bit of elders? 
- There was always that family that would bolt after communion and that was frowned upon. 
- The awkward time after mass when everyone would hit the donuts/coffee in the back room. 
- My dad took his lecturing seriously as you would hear him practicing around the house quite a bit. 
- My mom was going to join the church choir but us kids talked her out of if (we are either going to heaven or hell for that action but my mom was tone deaf).
I currently live across the street from a Lutheran church and couldn’t ask for better neighbors than the pastor and his wife. She can belt out “I’ll fly away” better than the Gillian Welch/Alison Krauss’ version. They have helped me out from time to time and vice-versa so one Sunday morning I walked across the street and attended a mass. What is the difference between Lutheran and Catholic? I had to look it up but not much. My friend Greg calls Lutheran “Catholic-light” and that rings true as there is no kneeling in the Lutheran world, attendees have tumblers of coffee in tow within the pews, one of the ushers regularly wore a Packers hoodie and instead of the Catholic “peace be with you” hand shake tradition where folks more or less shake hands of the people directly around them, the Lutherans will walk around the place to shake anyone and everyone’s hand (I stay at home base during this time). I’m not looking for salvation, it’s just a nice peaceful hour of reflection and giving thanks, no more, no less. Kind of like what we do when we fish, a lot of reflection time while waiting for the fish and giving thanks when the whopper hits your hook. The religion of Tim I guess is to be cool to your fellow brother. If they are assholes, ignore them and move on.
Funny I got one of my rare A’s in college taking a religion class and had never gotten so lucky on guessing on some of the quizzes. The gods were shining on me that semester, I guess. 
Is there a heaven/hell, doubtful but someone created these funky bodies we maintain with all the parts. 
If there is a higher power looking down, as the song goes, "Thank you, Lord, for thinkin' 'bout me, I'm alive and doin' fine. Woo!"
Trail Head

Sunday, January 4, 2026

Censored

In celebration/mourning of the 2025 football season in Michigan, both college and pro, coming to a close, we do a rewind to around September when we didn't know our teams were going to suck yet. My employer, looking to stir up some comradery in the office (which is great), sent a note out asking everyone to submit any past pictures from playing or attending football games.
I sent the attached picture (quite a capacity crowd there...), not even thinking twice about the name on the jersey. The secretary compiling the pictures jokingly replied to me that she was always a Cowboy fan growing up. When it came time for the big reveal of pictures, however, said picture was nowhere to be seen. 
I didn't dare ask what happened as my dim light bulb eventually figured it out and I don't work for "Tim, Incorporated," so absolutely understand.
Go former mascots!
Trail Head