hardworking-lily

[hardworking-lily]

The Murderer and the Manuscript

[hardworking-lily]

Ghost Tours Review

The streets of Milwaukee’s Third Ward are familiar to some, complete strangers to others. History is left buried unless you were raised or worked in the city.

Now it’s true that the Third Ward hosts several different types of tours year round, but if you want to leave with memories that will last, I highly suggest taking the Ghost Tours.

Running from June to October, you’re taken to some of the most supposedly haunted places in this lively part of the city. But if you’re worried about giving your heart a jump scare, don’t be alarmed, it’s a safe walk. The point of the tour is to inform and share stories, maybe give you a small chill along your spine.

The guides are given scripts, but they’re not bored teenagers or reading everything word for word. The tours are led by people who are completely enthusiastic about the tour, readily happy to answer your questions. Some even have their own personal ghost stories to share.

Loved the tour but worried that you’ll hear the same tales again? Never fear! The crew is constantly doing researching and digging up new stories to share, even rotating depending on what they find and what interests the audience. For extra ominous feels you can sign up for the night tours, but daytime slots are also available.

I could share some of the lore that I heard on my excellent trip, but that might spoil the fun. So here are a few secrets to spark your interest: anything old has a story, ghosts can be found in well-known areas, and keep an ear out for certain hotel rooms.

The tour isn’t only about spooks, my brother and I were amazed with how much history of the Third Ward itself was packed into one session. This knowledge helps when you hear the tales, because it actually gives you some backing to what the locals say, to the point of even questioning what you think you already know.

The best time to sign up for a tour is at night time during October. The Autumn winds bouncing and whispering along the cream city bricks adds to the ominous tales, plus it’s always better to hear ghost stories at night. It is highly recommended that you look up the weather beforehand and dress accordingly; my brother and I were fine in the beginning, but when it ended we scurried to the car and blasted the heat. If you prefer not to go through that hassle, the tours begin in June, still having the nighttime effects but at a more comfortable temperature.

Want to know more? Visit their website at http://www.milwaukeeghosts.com/tours.asp .

Remember- anybody can enjoy a beer and cheese tour, but if you really want to go home after a successful night, Milwaukee’s Third Ward Ghost Tours is the place to visit. Who knows what they’ll have uncovered by the time you visit…

[hardworking-lily]

Wellness Through Music

Rada-tat, rada-tat... Shh-ka, shh-ka, shh-ka, shh-ka,.. Clop, Clop, Clop, Clop… Cling...Cling...Cling...Cling…

To assume that a panel discussing how music therapy is mentally healthy for you would only have you sit and listen to speeches was foolish. Immediately when you walked into the room, you were asked to place your items on a table, then to take your seat in the drum circle.

From there you could either sit at a drum, or pick up an instrument. With a few words of introduction, the three panelists threw us in a steady rhythm. Admittedly it started out a little stressful, terrified that you’d be the first to fall off the beat and either everyone would hear you or they would all topple after you. Luckily the feeling was quickly subdued when all focus was put into the beat itself. While you concentrate on keeping in time, some part of you relaxes enough to let the rest of the instruments invade your senses to the point where it seems as though the room has a beating pulse.

One by one, the leading panelist halts the music in sections, everything begins to slow down once more until the last drum is tapped. Their eyes glance around the circle. With a smile they exchange spots with the next panelist, and it begins again.

After two years you’d think I learn by now that Alverno students will always find a way to make what seems like a mundane event only to breath life into it. Granted I had no idea what to expect when going to this panel, but what came to mind was the exact opposite of what I had witnessed.

Even when we did have to take our seats at table for the more analytical presentation, the panelists had introduced themselves as Music Therapy majors, continuing on discussing how music can help people mentally, physically, spiritually; included ways that music helps relieve stress; they even brought us back to the drum circle to keep the beat while the panelists sang, “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” (with a few of us chiming in).

The best part about the entire panel was that everything they said, I understood. I actually learned. Many times have I sat through presentations, nodding along, understanding very little and either coming out confused, or forgetting the information just learned because it has no relevance to me. But because of the amount of time they kept us in the drum circle, when the actual talking came into play, the emotions, the anxiety melting away, memory improving as I continued my task of clacking with two sticks together, it all made sense and had relevance. And what I learned followed me home, and I now use to my advantage. Today I had seen the true power of music, and I wouldn’t have unlocked it if it wasn’t for the Alverno system, and the amazing students it delivers.

[hardworking-lily]

There Will Be Time

There was something intoxicating when it came to holding a good book in my hands. Unable to concentrate on the problematic assignment, images of a hand-me-down bookshelf came to minds eye. Over my high school career I managed to sort between classics and products of the area, so now it was only perfection.

The shelves were filled, mixed between new, already read, and well loved; hardcovers with worn spines next to paperbacks with dog eared covers. A few wore battle scars of from the nasty habit of bending pages in lew of a bookmark, while others had a page rip or two from the anticipation of the next chapter. And safely tucked in the bottom corner were a few cherished picture books, if nothing more than for sentimental reasons.

Remembering how it made me giddy to crack open my book under the desk, reminding myself to look up every few minutes to look like I were paying attention brought out a low chuckle. A system nailed down over several years of practice. Then I entered college.

My pride kicked in, bringing several recently purchased paperbacks, because as nice as the hardcovers were I still wanted to save enough for the next best seller.

Soon lengthy textbook readings take up my time, not to mention the rest of the  homework load, while balancing a small social life, at the same time trying to decide whether I could function on a healthy six hours, or a just as good four hours.

Eyes wander up towards my small shelf above my desk, where my loves are collecting dust, lingering over a specific paperback. In my earlier years it would have been finished within a week, but now remains not even halfway finished from when I bought it a year and a half ago. The only sign of wear was a slightly bent cover. I remind myself that now was not the time, but it will come.