The town is like a more than wee bit of Ireland, when counting its population percentages, in the midst of Wisconsin farm country. A little of the old, with lilt, near New Richmond.
So yes, plenty of clovers. But not harvesting potatos. That is mainly although prominent in the nation in the state’s central section. And sorry St. Patrick, as the man of such removal, they actually have snakes. Cool hoop snakes, as I digress, on many a local farmstead, hiding under piles of hay. So enter a church (and the image alongside shows a ghostly crypt with angels in its local cemetery) and pub, as the town’s pair of main forces, as say hey, this is Wisconsin, and there are two, or more, of each type at most every intersection in such smaller rural bergs of this, the Badger State — though only one each in Erin. (And as thusly named, such intersection of Church and taken broadly, State, as we’re talking Ireland heritage here, exists at one area pair of crossing-below-each-other street signs, in this bi-fold area much less than an hour removed, to the east, from the Twin Cities.)

All that being said, the small town of Erin Prairie has one of the highest percentages of Irish Catholics you’ll find in the Midwest, and the local parish is the center of the town, with its members lingering long after each Sunday service, and then most of them bringing their maybe-after-potluck celebration a wee bit across town to this in its truest sense social-center-and-neighborhood grill and Irish pub. Its been heavy on game rooms for both children and their families and a next step has been to install a quarters machine for them, and was run for decades by a family of parishioners. It has been known, fittingly after the proprietor, Mary’s Erin Corners and even has a rarity for localities of such size, a fully functioning and well-used softball field filled with Old School portions and even a small press box on five-foot-high wooden stilts and lots of log-built spectator seating. What’s new is that because of the oldsters being retirement age, but having promising to still be much a fixture, today’s most recent owners, also with ties to the pub, earlier announced plans to add on and keep the same old Catholic Irish lilt.

(Like this content? There is my much longer post to see of the same nature in the nationally-respected Irish Gazette based out of the Twin Cities, currently in their online edition and another version soon to be found in pubs and other Irish establishments near you if you live in the metro area. And that includes western Wisconsin. And the longer version can also soon be seen here, with another photo. And in both places you will soon see much more St. Patrick’s Day content, on what to do, and to paraphrase what they say, slay it!)

– It’s now March and are you still marching along with your New Year’s resolutions?
The owner of the Spirit Seller has seen both, although adding that the turnabout of turns usually occurs about three weeks into January, with things like stopping smoking, at least for a time. My other bud, Mr. Comp, said last month that the re-deviation had not kicking in yet, so behind the times. (Not that you couldn’t add in using some of the 40 percent-and-much-more carb and protein supply that we’re all supposed to have each day. Minus any residual tar in that energy bar. More on that in a post below.)
At typically about Jan. 20 smokers who quit are back to one or maybe two packs a day — as in one or two humps of Joe Camel — taken in that order, get back off the bandwagon. Or back on the bandwagon now that Lent is here. Give it up for Maraboro! And thus The Seller will sell cigs again.
But this year, people gave been more diligent with holding off on their habit. Maybe pandemic considerations of stringiness. Or something filled the void. And that might be that since-now annual offering you could get, in very limited editions, at The Seller aside the counter. It is a holiday and thus post-holiday, if it lasts, big bottle of special Christmas brew put out by a bigger brewer out of The Cities, as thus all decked out. And it goes for about the size of your Christmas bonus or more, but people still snap it up, leaving some who wander in shortly after The First emptihanded.
So if you dropped all that specialty money, maybe its coal in the stocking for the kiddies. But plan ahead this year, starting in early fall, and get you finances shored up and put in order by the time the snow (usually) flies. –

Around the town …
Erin Prairie was settled by Irish Catholics as one of the first localities in the state, and the cemetery at St. Patrick’s still has many of their founder’s tombstones, and some of these hard working farmers only lived into their 30s, and by present day it has many thousands of gravesites — several times worth the number of people in the entire town, at several hundred. But the church, in the heart of mostly greater populated and commuter-based St. Croix County, is popular enough to require a second parking lot with several dozen spaces across a main county highway through town.
Some of the tombstones are crumbling, whether small squares in the grass or steeple-shaped spires that are rarely higher than a basketball hoop, or things in-between and an effort is underway to refurbish the old cemetery, with a first phase already having raised $10,000 — a figure from back in early 2023 — among this relatively small congregation.
In the midst of the cemetery is a large crypt-like structure built of hundreds of small rather nondescript as-in-back-in-the-day stones, open at the very front, that shows a U.S. flag with the crucified Christ below, then below that, two lifesize women who appear to be the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene shown facing each other, and in front of them two likesize stone angels blowing trumpets.
At the front corner of the cemetery is a series of about a dozen gravestones bearing the name of the family Gavin. Such identification is a theme, throughout the cemetery that dates back well over a century, probably closer to two. Prominent on them is an engraving of the date of birth and death, and spelled out is the age they achieved. About every Irish name you can think of is represented.
Right up at the front of the church yard is a statue of Mary that again, is surrounded on three sides by walls made of football-size rocks.
At the front door itself is another statue, of St. Patrick, again with its own twist. It incorporates not only the usual full green color in its clothing, but mostly light gold and a twist of light lime tones.
St. Patrick’s is called a “quaint” country church, seated amidst the lush farmlands of St. Croix County, and also the much bigger McKenna Farms west of the Erin Prairie church. “It is one of the founding parishes of the Diocese of Superior. The Parish was built on the Faith and Hope of Irish immigrants, and has survived many challenges over the years. This day finds it a thriving community of Faith and Fellowship,” says plat book information about the town found online and backed up by the parish and township websites.
The pub that’s just down the road from St. Patrick’s is a stopping place, especially later on Sundays, for snowmobilers who run the circuit from Roberts and Hammond, and many of them are parishioners at its main church, that being Immaculate Conception there, like its namesake in New Richmond. On a recent Sunday mid-afternoon when the St. Patrick’s people were filtering in, they were joined by several snowmobilers.
“This is my third time here,” said one of the women, but a man standing next to her had the familiarity of the local history of an oldtimer, such as a fire that burned the pub down 20 years ago. “I’ve been coming here (to the pub) for a long time.”
At the pub, a sign that is the gateway has shown a green leprechaun superimposed over a green state cutout of — oops — Minnesota. A sign on a bathroom door advertises a Friday fish fry at Immaculate Conception in New Richmond, and a summer goal at this classic community pub is to have more offerings for games for local 4-Hers. Its main room is heavy on tables that seat families. The main photo on their website just looks vintage, and shows all those very classic Irish spirits stacked in front of a big mirror supported with wood hewn logs. Another vintage but large picture shows an old time major league ballfield — and there’s also that real one for current games.
A last photo of note shows someone who presumably is the longtime proprietor sitting at one of her tables all decked out in Irish garb. It is not there just for St. Patrick’s Day, and the recent Irish holidays have been celebrated with the usual corn beef and cabbage and even more green.
A recent patron was wearing a T-shirt that said “Praise” and she said it just made her feel good to be sporting it.
The newer manager, Cassie Sahnow, who for years has lived kitty-corner across the street, was just as likely to haul out a pizza to a family as pour a drink to a customer — and many times they get a large water or pop for them and the kids. “I’m a bit Irish but mostly German,” Sahnow said. A teenage girl recently was seen with her a bit younger sister going to the popcorn machine more than once, after first checking with dad.
The owners have opened a bigger game room in the back, the size of several large rooms, with pool tables and video games, and also a patio, that cater to families and their age-appropriate children. There also was a recent snow kickball tournament.

We have seen a complete absence of workable policy solutions for the Mexican border crisis, so how is this for a plan — put our heads together with people in our local communities as a whole, and subgroups such as the churches and even strapped charities that have always born the brunt, and also government agencies and businesses and housing authorities, and even individuals working individually, to develop a comprehensive plan (government term) to accept immigrants into our society workably when they inevitably arrive here, as they are sure to keep acoming to chase the American dream. It hasn’t gotten much REM sleep lately, as the thus-named band will tell you, in so many more ways than one. So stay awake (rather than going for broke, with WOKE.) Help them to go for the gold that has of late become tarnished bronze. Little glimmer of silver here. Do they have that as well as the long-sought-after gold in Mexico? And do they get to keep the gold that falls, like Americans, when Coming To America?
How to help them leverage such an advantage, when they get to The States, from the provinces?
Maybe we will welcome in someone who will become the next Lady Gaga.

– Sometimes on analogy or analysis, or argument or metaphor, can be taken too far.
As possibly in the post that appears at bookkends to this brief. Imagine, possibly, that you can only accept the immigrant so far.
Can you stick too many people in a room too often, to keep none on the street? Or slash your profits too much, to save the poor?
I really think not. But …
Take these two examples as metaphor.
And place virtually all things on a continuum, albiet on the far upper end. Is that too far left?
How you ever seen the silly sovereign citizen video clips? Yes, of course, question authority and how it is allowed to rule over you, but make your stance logical. For after all, there always has to be a ruler. Even if he or she wields a ruler like a nun. Sorry about that, but there can never be a real thing like anarchy. Because some overlord will always rise to the top, and then … there is a ruler! And layers of sub-rulers, even if under him as minions. Power can never be shared equally.
And, who actually eats eight servings of veggies, even if a vegetarian devoid of consuming meat? Or what, four f—— kinds of an even fave fruit? I don’t know anybody who even hoards that much junk food, much less commonly consume a couple of sticks of carrots. This is merely an ideal, to keep in mind, obviously, and not be removed and made a Piece Of Mind, but in realization that is just not practical or doable. Are you listening Bernie Sanders? –

But to use a cliche, we all have to roll up our sleeves and sacrifice from our relatively greater wealth, perhaps sell the cloth that is saved, then donate those few sheckles, (since as many migrant workers know, a ragged T-shirt, even when it was worn by WASPs, is better than no shirt at all.) At an hourly rate of a migrant worker who would launder those for us, one piece at a time, and piecemeal just might win the game if enough pieces are conserved and converted. And that may be the rub.
So there can be, say, seven ways to win it, the total of all the sums. With a creative mind opened sevenfold. But there are also seven deadly sins, and seven sacred and verily scary roads to hell. So, each individual action and effort and ability mounts and is magnified, for good or evil. There is no such thing as: Just one passibly bad legislative bill, or excusing yet-another housing denial that could be avoided by restructuring a security deposit, or low-pay jobs for which people could be better trained with the price of, in time and fees, one less trip to the golf greens, or not teaching a second and related skill to such employees who thus might be given more to do than shoot the breeze if not the (busy?) boss who won’t delegate, as profit ebbs if the lone task of said employee idles for a time and kills productivity, or wisdom in shrugging off the advice of retirees or refugees who have been in the working-world trenches and can teach management a better way …
So I will offer some practical solutions, if not food for thought as even that can help the surge of refugees. Since maybe it is the piggyback, added idea, so share it even if you don’t actually volunteer, you have that could cumulatively thrust us past the rule of sevens to aid our fellow humans. For eight is not enough, when it comes to the outdated ideals of those TV-touted times that need some alteration by even lawmaking amendment — or re-establishment of their few positive principles.

What if we did this with housing more refugees and especially families, even if at the rather slight expense, by comparison, of individual comforts: Let more of them in some apartments then is usually allowed by things such as code, to live together in love if not luxury. Yes, maybe that bedroom only has enough room for what’s prescribed to be two people, but a bit of room on a couch, for a third, is better than than such on a dirt floor in the desert. Or add a get-away-from-the-rest nook, it need only be the size of a bathroom, aside of the front apartment door entry. And another tucked in the corner beside something they don’t often have in the Mohabi, a microwave? Little kids can play for a while with little dolls in some fairly little places. And just provide a distance between them and mom and dad, and siblings.
Other things could also be in the mind of building planners, such as to make rooms just-even-a-bit-if-budget-stretching big enough to give options for using partitions (decorated with what would be wall hangings?) and things like bunk beds to make more living space for just a few other people to live, and share the rent. Even a great big throw rug can provide the illusion of being a buffer. And where some of us reside, the party and gathering rooms and patios, are often ending up virtually empty despite their great big spaces, so maybe just issue a “pass” that has a time limit for their use to spread the wealth around, so to speak. And defuse the severe housing need, refugees included and at the forefront.
I know, not many people would be tolerant of making apartment buildings become nearly mere crammed dormatories, but there is a greater principle. And it can be made practical by when needed and not pages in length, sprinkling in limits here and there, and giving refugees and others appeal options that are straight-forward and cut through red-tape. Is it really that important if your pet be a such-is-now-needed certified service animal, or if say, merely a tiny stay-at-home dog who gives you therapeutic comfort but yips a bit when you’re hurting from war wounds and worse. That call should not need to be made by religiously reading through several paragraphs of information, and then cross referencing to other paragraphs in other places.
Also, there are few better places to relax than in an easy chair plopped in the back corner of the back (or front) entryway to stairwell(s) leading into your very building. So make use of them. Really, wouldn’t you like to share it, for just a little time, time at a time?

I have no doubt that most migrant workers head south for the winter, where unlike Snowbirds they mind (or should I say mine) the greener pastures, literally, as they need to keep on working. No vacation for these guys, and gals.
But you know what? Like a motel maid who becomes very familiar with the rooms she (or he) cleans, and their nooks and crannies to arrange them faster, there is an advantage to an employer to have a worker who knows the drill, literally, and you don’t have to fill in the blanks with regularly recurring newbies, even if you take the stance that manual labor does not require much time for you to get them up to speed. They still need, for instance, to know what cleaners to use on what surfaces, to save your capitalist costs. In our materialistic society you buy boatloads of those that do not duplicate each other, to be used on every imaginable surface, and of any strength. (As a counterpoint, a bartender friend said she can go a long way with one jug of basic bleach.) And even Lenin’s housekeepers, and I’ll bet he had them, I’m sure needed to quickly learn a nurse’s corner.
So even if not a tree or vegetable hugger, you have to see that when plucking the peppers off the field you own, there is an advantage to not keeping on with a need to keep on, come spring and its basic training. Get it to having no training required. So to get the same workers coming back year after year, why not give a travel voucher, even if its used from Mexico. If you can manage a farm and its hundreds of acres (that’s most all of them these days), you can figure out with banker help maybe, how to encrypt such a voucher for only travel use. And even set it up for food use, and not traveling steak, that’s low-cost and healthy, like what they harvest — sans cheeseburgers. I get that farmers as owners, especially the non-corporate kind, don’t make much money either, but maybe you could get them as far as Kansas City? Then hop a train? Every bit helps, like a half of a hot pepper on a sandwich.
It’s not just charity. It could be good business.
What about allowing migrants more of another basic US experience, that of the fitness club. Yeah. It has to ache, picking crops all day, bending over and lifting constantly, and could it be that your workers would be more productive with the knots out of their back, come the next morn and go at it in renewed fashion. Again, choose activity options that are mostly based on such relief, if your business has short funds, and forego the actual racquetball?
And if you really want want to perk up your profits, learning from those in the trenches who know a thing or two, maybe mandate that your managers once in a while hang out in the hot tub to gather with those who do the food gathering, bonding in a good and human way.
How bad is that ache? Things and technologies and such may have evolved, but I was thinking this on a recent trip back to the same abode, where harvesting peppers was the thing: The workers would lie flat, I’m guessing, as best they could on what was much like a pallet, then grab from in front of them as they inched along. That’s an ouch. You don’t do it anymore when you’re pushing retirement age, if you can afford to, so maybe then you could just drive the tractor-type unit that makes the whole apparatus go. So … what if, and maybe come now its all been done before, install a button that would replace what you’re yellin’ for. The picker could hit it if he was about to miss a few big ones, a message for the driver to slow down the pace for a moment. So everyone is grinnin’ as the picker wouldn’t have to rush as much, the tractor driver has a more vital purpose, and the farm owner gets a better profit margin, even if just measured per pepper. All this, hypothetically, just because you invested in a few (Old School) buttons to hit. This chastisement from a blogger who has not yet established even a donate or subscribe button, and to those who have clamored, yes they are coming when my IT guy is done with a long lunch, so it’s literally, do as I say not as I do. That’s a bigtime music commonality, too.
Lastly on the subject, and this could really keep the crews coming back to you for decades, not the other guy down the dusty farm road, set up a small college fund for their kids — who might be working on the same fields too unless attending summer school, so more money for you since you’re making this measure — to be fully redeemed after a given number of years of consecutive service. The parents might not be able to go back to school themselves, but this could be just the ticket to enabling their children to — and let’s just go ahead and call it this — have a better life.
To go one step further, if I have not overtaxed you already, what if a big-business farmer would also become a landlord — another chore I realize — and build better-than-barracks housing units for his employees, and thus retain total control over their building template (and they usually do have them) to make them best for the migrant families they have come to know, or should have. See above for things like room size.

All these things need to be allowed by reshaping existing rules and codes and laws, and they need not be exactly the same in every town — although that can create a slippery slope to work in or on — and a determining factor might simply by the sheer income and other means city by city. Thus, creativity and flexability could be keys here, but they need a proper framework within to work. And these things would likely have a price tag, but more than that just require say, more feet on the floor to provide service, occasional quick compliance checks and yes, security. So collaberation between all sorts of entities and individuals would be a must, as so often they run on a parallel course but do not intersect to work as a team. So a by-product of all this, for business and profit margin, might be weeding out some unneeded duplication of tasks.
So in floating my craft as a writer, did I miss the boat on these topics as I swim upstream? Should I go jump in the lake? Or did I defend those who “would sell my soul for water. Nine years of breaking my back …”

Where there is a burger, especially if there are close to a dozen burgeoning, there is a battle. And though not necessarily moving into overtime, these like other contests usually do not play out with a winner until late in the game.
That’s doubly true when two or more buns are, well, abundant. To warm your late-winter cackles, like chili feeds often do. And you might find some of that on top.
To wit, Hop N Barrel in Hudson has hosted its all-February burger contest and accompanying crawl, not wrapping up until the end of the month. Their craft beer creations typically are part of a sandwich package that includes burgers from all around restaurants in the downtown and just beyond in Hudson, and if you try out a majority of them you can vote to help pick a favorite, and win something for yourself too.

– And oh, there is a burger battle in River Falls too. Not as many joints but — as in butt steak — you are required to hit them all. This the cooly confrontational over the best catsup and condiments and more, and you can veto the Vine Ripe variety, goes through the 29th, just like of note, the ending date of the largely similar Hudson version. But south, they list four different types of things you should look for, contest categories, only starting with flavor. So as a plus, completing your approach, presentation is important, and you gotta appreciate a well-placed pickle. –

But the “more local” entry that caught my eye was from what I tap as among the tops in this area, Hudson Tap, and you can get it for just $14.75, for both beverage and burger and beyond. Longtime bartender here and elsewhere, including a gig in the Gopher State, Amanda says it best … “yeah, it’s really tasty.” She immediately gave me a menu of singular focus.
It said the Burger Battle Burger boasts two four-ounce ground chuck patties, smoked gouda, tomato bacon jam, truffle aioli, arugula, tomato and red onion on a grilled pub bun with seasoned skin on fries, for this winter season. It is paired with a Hop and Barrel Zorro Rojo amber lager.
I had also seen the burger’s description, and its name and number on the wall, as in the bathroom, where as I looked above the sign on the sink I met a man who knew a thing or two about such endeavors. He hailed from Minnesota, then having moved to Hudson, and has tried his hand at two different games hosted by Hop N Barrel, a place he quickly grew to love.
One was a contest that he won with barley, but by more than barely, by using a creative cupcake formula, and the other was making soap from such brews. Two very different approaches, like dark vs, IPA, same result.
Or you could try the Big Ben Burger at Bennett’s Chop and Rail House — you get the rub and not on beef — along with for you two state-area-affictienatos a Minnesconsin named brew, as you will have to make a run to try out more than one variety of hamburger and fixings, to meet contest requirements. Then move on down the block, or up a side-street …
*** Such as Post American Eatery, which also won as just announced, the recent Hudson Hot Air (Sippin’) Affair with a drink that championed vodka-infused marshmallows. Not mushrooms. For those, a breaded and fried portobello, you’ll have to visit there for the Burger Battle which features — theme here? — blackberry chili jam and BBQ sauce on a three-quarter-pound hereford, not the full cow, but impressive none-the-less.
So, you have until Two Minutes Until 12:01 on March 1. So march out to get such merch from local restaurants, bar and grills, and other sandwich-style eateries. Then a victor will then be crowned, via Hop N Barrell itself, on March 5, complete with more giveaways to contestants.
And then, until then, for the rest of this weekend, this is the as-so-often-stated planner: They had The Luck, playing at Ziggy’s Hudson, on the rare back-to-back nights in mid-February, (with songs that if not original music, had an original quality, to be described later), to follow if you are lucky The Nathan Hansen Band on a mid-month Friday, then Pop Syndrome the night of the 23rd, followed by Them Pesky Kids for a return-to-the-Hudson-area engagement. All of this after, if you are a celeb-encounter-freak as described in a post below, the cabin fever event in New Richmond that featured an in-costume, indoor mini-golf tourney — it matters how you look not how you putt, they say — there is no truth to the rumor that as in their take in GQ-type fashion, they had the fashion-plate, noted-for-such-putting-toward-the-green-in-pants pro Payne Stewart in attendance. Knickers not there! So that might be porn anyway.
And for The Luck, their covers were described as having a Pink Floyd-type vibe, by a new bartender, even after I described them as having a quality that’s far beyond, to enhance their psychedelic-stylings. (We’d talked about covers of a couple of Minneapolis-based bands — but I had to pick one — and I think prominent on The Avenue was The Gin Blossoms, or was it The Wallflowers, with their humble humility shown also.)

It was the weekend before Valentine’s Day that the snow finally and fully disappeared from the evergreen branches outside my apartment, where it had been laying thicker than a bird’s nest since slamming us the prior weekend.
It had caked my head as well on Wednesday, when I was caught outside for more than just a couple of blocks.
I’d looked at the forecast and saw a prediction that temperatures would be near 50 degrees as a high, and since I’d been doing laundry and all my jeans were still damp, I donned of all things a pair of shorts for my walk as the sun was dipping.
The jaunt proved daunting, and the weather doomed my bare legs.

– If you want a quick fix, as in sharing a glance or even a hello, with your fave player, things could be getting either more or less difficult. We’ll make a quick call involving Kirill. He now has bought a residence, not holed up in an intentional way in a flat, and his English skills are getting better at even a far greater current rate than that of hat tricks — and that’s saying something. So talking a bit of hockey, hey how ’bout the Penguins who are found on ice also, would be easier. But uhm no, he’s been said to be dating someone, seen together with a Russian model, though likely not in St. Paul. And where did some Wild players go for the NHL all-star break? Not too many stayed in the Twin Cities or its (wide-ranging) vicinity, unless braving the cold for a day or two if so compelled. But Toronto? And there could be Replacements, from the partly closed and small circuit of cool local clubs, where people can get to know people in our small burgs, as this is Minneapolis, etc.
To wit, AP or as he is called AD, can do more than rush the football to record-setting levels, as with the Vikings. He even hit a home run in a Texas, his first home base although he wanders, celebrity contest around the time of the Super Bowl, so he’s still got it and that is from the killer workout routine that comes with such ADHD abilities, as I cited. He too just can’t stay away from the game(s). But in Vegas, where most things stay, he was seen being stumbly after the Super Bowl and after a night of partying, to build my case for those who have an unceasing desire to mingle with their fans …
And Zach Parise, too, has said he will call it a night after his fall to Colorado and thus retire, to get back to the home stomping grounds …
And where do stories come from? A two-woman hockey site called BarSides, I think, cited that some info came from being at local dinner with someone who was in the know, close to the situation/team. And another site also has a root word that beckons of bars … where as Blondie said, the people meet. Over shock, or punk rock? –

But even Saturday morning, I saw a gent who must have spent a similar time in the laundry room, as he was walking down the main drag in also, shorts that did not reach down to his knees. This was again, a couple of blocks to the north of the main business area, where The Bees Knees boutique had been selling Valentine’s Day goods earlier in the week. Saw the same shorts when the temps were in the single digits, on Sunday night.
Come that midweek, as mid-afternoon turned to later-afternoon, weather had still be mild. But when the time arrived to be having dinner with your Valentine, the wind and snow had arrived, seemingly out of nowhere.
So went I’d made my entire headway while heading north, and went to wipe off and got to the bathroom mirror, I saw my whole forehead and sideburns and sweatshirt were caked in wet snow, almost to the point of obscuring facial features. I wondered what my lady-friends must have thought when they saw me walk in. I must say I felt conspicuous as I sat at the bar counter and quaffed by beer. When I had walked along, I felt very often a click of my heals as ice throlled up to hit my ankles, now bare.
I recall thinking that during an earlier in the Month-Of-Love windstorm, that same ride on that “Nordeaster” had again come into play, as a sign for a neighboring business, called in part the Northwestern, again dropped to the ground temporarily. It was a victim of the weather rollercoaster for a second time in the past year. And still today, the wind wafts on.
Valentine’s Day-less this time around, I had gone out for a drink by myself. That made me of course a definite minority. But many of those duos, and the occasional trio, were people of the same sex, and they did not look to be getting intimate enough to be gay. So if dateless, go out with a same-sex bud, apparently.
Over in New Richmond, where it seemed the weather was far worse than in Hudson, the young waitress at the local club was well dressed for the holiday occasion, although she was on duty, with the same bright color on both her blouse and pants, hair ribbon and earrings, fingernails and belt. Off of that pattern, though, by wearing off-white shoes the color of my legs. She was appreciative of me complementing her on her pinkness, and spun around cutely and bopped away after thanking me.
I also got thanks from the bartender, a longtime friend of mine, to whom I handed a card that was kind of cheesy, about a supposed “party RSVP” that I dubbed Really Special Voluptuous Person.
The day before, at that place that says love if you are too short on cash for the flower store, WalMart, men were out doing what men do right after work on Feb. 14. If a bit harried and in a hurry.
Don’t they have it in this aisle anymore? I heard this said, or said it myself, at least four times.
I swear it was right here! Did they move all the stuff like it again? From last year?
Look closer, a wise man said to other shoppers, some a bit frazzled.
There were many different versions, and what the end result would be, of “the same old story, all over again. You turn a lover into just another friend …”
It kept coming up, in different store places, Where They Might Have Had Blue Light Specials. But not Lite beer with a similar-color label.
A little girl said to her dad, who looked incredulous, “I know just what mom knows she wants.” They were in the candy aisle, edging toward God know’s what …
A tot and her father in next main aisle over, had much the same conversation.
Then came a heavy-set black woman looking for … what for her man, followed by I much say a much hotter black-haired one also searching, who said she couldn’t find what she was looking for either, and then wandered down toward the checkout counters, then back toward me, then back away again for a few feet .. and then found her candy of choice, a dozen small pieces in a sack.
A last lady also looking, on the far end of the store, said and lingered on the subject that she was running out of time, but apparently not people to talk to.

Rounds of roses are wonderful — and the color chosen will tell what your luck might be even prior to St. Patrick’s Day — but we all love nachos, ask the more current insignia, and you don’t need to order a dozen, as per Hallmark’s usual protocol.
One local venue has on a sign that glorifies it, in part with an ode to The Stones and their regarded rendering, one of dozens, of big-lips-and-tongue-stuck-out. Bawdy with big brawn, on this coming day that celebrates beauty. Thus the Agave Kitchen makes nachos for newlyweds and others, and adds tacos that are advertised as having a prime ingredient going beyond fish, as in calamari, or earlier salmon. Without having to first consult the prime rate.
Then this revelation, as I resolve now, after NYE, to make this recommendation, to make reservations for you and her without any reservation or any resignation or remorse, to engage in downtown Brickstyle Pizza. This stated on their sign on Super Bowl Sunday, perhaps less of a date night, so make your reservations here, before halftime comes, (OK I made up that last part.) But even now, just call them …

– But back to when they were the football ‘aints and there were bags on the heads of the, what I think, fans bored to death as in the Crucifixion season coming, as yesterday was Ash Wednesday, see more gridiron-related goodies below … Yesterday was also V-Day, of course, and thus as well Saints Day, as per Saint Valentine, but not for All Saints in this day, as some can’t make a pass and thus pass the test in their passing yardage for more than a dozen as in roses yards. Drew Brees changed that — like my friend(s) as in Bree could have changed modeling — and considering that he made it such a breeze why could this have been done back before the heyday of Archie Manning took hold … But read below. —

So say it ain’t so, we could go back to when they were known as the ‘aints, as they have not won The Bowl for many years — after being gung-ho for a while midstream. Yes these are the New Orleans Saints, how apparently have a local fan … who tipped us off and tipped his hat, which he then lost after tipping a few, as it set outside the door of The Smilin’ Moose for a while, then got moved to sit atop a parking meter, and back. It made note of the fact that this football “club” was established in 1967, which I think of more as the era of another Super Bowl star, the Packers’ Bart Starr.
Then to cap it off …
So if you accept The Cup — not the Stanley version, as Paul of KISS also — you still can have more pizza-azza by going to the Village Inn, and taking in their Detroit-style pie form. Motor City matters, as per its mascot madman. I think the guy down the street might have been there, as he’s been waving from his pole a Lion’s flag, a team that’s had about as much recent success, prior to this season’s push through the playoffs, as the Saints. But Detroit is still not powerful enough to be called the ‘ions. Got consenants “covered.”
There was set on the side of a Detroit-like truck, a logo of a Bigfoot — who by the way is said to be seen in these parts, read about it here later — of my valentine, since he’s carrying a rose. You local lady said he sounds cool, might like to date him! Similarly, a heart-harkened insignia on another sign, for the Hudson Hot Air Affair, was seen even after its holding. Also offered were ‘ngrats to the state-bound Hudson Dance Team, as the other squads are ingrates? Backers were seen during the HHAA wandering the streets, bearing banners in support of their squad.
In an online ad, there is another scene, of a very leggy blonde woman in a very short skirt who is walking a latenight Saudi street alongside who else but an Arab Oil Shiek, who himself does not seem to have any lacking-clothing-restriction, as he’s really duded up. Check out the song Rock the Casbah, if you think it kosher, for how the two ends Clash.
I also as The Day nears, reference Cosmo and its covers, showing how to among other things fry it up in a pan in regard to bacon while doing it all … And speaking of such, also its message from its ilk to take an oath to “spend more time naked,” although we question the motivations for making such a suggestion, and the degree of value it has in the first place. We guess the line came from a (bit obsessed?) male associate editor. Abject abs as an object anyone?
As per this ad: Two “nuns” wearing skimpy Halloween attire while having hands folded and lips pursed, as this could be right on All Saints Day.
So the new perfect woman, as created by AI and now gracing our brains and putting pressure on our now young girls to look the same way. But what about the new best man? And per our newly annointed and token female, she still needs to be adorned with headgear, just not a hairpiece.
And that ad from a place called Lovesac, on pre-Presidents Day, not the V-Day that name would suggest. But I think Trump got some help from them. Biden abstains.
I also spied two second-story balcony “bears” kissing, above a bar. Like Romeo and Juliet? Beckoning Blue Oyster Cult. Could the pair be bi-polar? Up the block, at Bee’s Knees, you can see the biggest and best sign of them all, using 35 words to say why both she and you are special. Along with a mylar balloon that’s almost half as tall as she is. Nextdoor at another antique shop is — another Bigfoot — wearing a Stars War cap, to be like Chewbacca.

The best price is, of course, zero, as is zilch. Or as this is not zero tolerance, at least with the presence of zeros, (rather than the obligatory 99-cent ending two digits, or at least 49-cent, and that could be the alcohol proof of it also, with the proof in the $1.00 pudding.) So with that said, for me when I’m buying Bud Zero not in a 1.0 liter, or 30-pack, but a 12-pack, I’m looking for something between probably, $9.00 and $10.00. (And there are no 10 packs.) That last stat could play into whether you blow a 0.08 or a 0.10, and get a 10-year term or $10,000 fine.

– Zeros, that number(s) come(s) up again …
At our “group mailbox” of dozens to pick from, but only one your own, I saw a friend trying to access her end with her key. (That went badly one time, but that’s another multifaceted story for later.)
I entered the conversation with my usual bad joke. So did someone send you some money? Damn no, she said, minus the vulgarity, so zero dollars ahead? I don’t quite remember it for sure. Bills, such as like taxes … Lottery winnings? Don’t count your chickens until well after they are past egg stage, and laid to rest and on your BBQ’d or teriyaki’d plate, lemon-butter at Perkins might be cheaper. At this point she was still smiling, but edging way, although quite slowly. It could just be (wishful thinking as per my social-status graces?) because she uses a wheelchair.
But we agreed as one, they that are all those mailings, still end up in zeros, just depends on how many, and if metamorphically. Hopefully you still get at least 99 cents (it’s something), rather than zeros that gain you zilch, of such described. –

So leave it to Total Wine (as in a booze-warehouse-building and if an item exists they have it, with no zeros for inventory) in Milwaukee to change it up on me, put the zero in an odd place and charge $9.09. And at that price, under the ten-dollar-and-zero-cent barometer that’s the usual benchmark for determining sales tax, I still had a tax of $0.55, the same exact figure as in St. Croix County — with its $0.055 percent rate — for a set of cans costing $1.00 in total more.
This was bought at about 10:00:00, or that’s what the receipt tells me, for the store street address ending in two zeros, like their 12-pack price that I had yearned for.
This purchase was made on the morning of Christmas Eve, and I was told that if I’d wait a bit beyond 10 a.m., but not more than 10 hours, I could buy a gift bottle — for around the same price? — and have the recipient’s name engraved for zero dollars. Wouldn’t that make the bottle leak? The store was open on this holiday night not until 9:00 p.m. but rather 8:00 p.m., so 60 minutes more to gift shop elsewhere by its employees. On Christmas Day they’d be open a total of zero hours. Their flyer says, again, sleigh gift-giving. Is that how we create a red-nosed reindeer? But their employees would slay that thought after 8:00.
Down there in beer city, they have that ungodly higher sales tax rate for your brew, compared to pristine (even prissy?) St. Croix County. That is $0.01 more in tax for every $1.00, which becomes a turbo rate at $100 if you pay $10,000. Plus your typical tip of $1.00, and god forbid not $0.00, or meet in the middle at $0.50? And that $0.01 stat comes into play again when taking in the 99 brand of shot-in-a-small-bottle set of liquors — that’s meagerly nearing the $1.00 figure in both price and alcohol proof. So you will pay $.01 less than $1.00 for these.
Then the latest Total Wine coupon, which I even get up here in these parts unknown, offers $20.00 off wine or 10.0 percent off spirits (of a type under 100 proof I’m assuming) for 750.0 ml or larger. (Excludes also items priced higher than $0.01 less than $500.) One wine is named 90, I know not why.
I saw in a commercial a zany bit on zeros where two people, as in one couple, at a bar I’m guessing, quibbled over the $2.00 left, so $1.00 for each person, so again meet in the middle? And who takes care of the added tip of $0.40, if figured at 20 percent?
I also spied at again, $0.01 short of $1.00 for canned fruit at a local grocer, so you get fruit for your cocktail. With an expiration date of … what … practically zero in terms of time. Like 10-year-old fruitcake. OK, that may be stretching it.
In the far more than 100-year downtown, Brick’s Pizza, with longlasting ovens, for the last 1.0 months has celebrated being open for 1.0 years short of 20 years. (More coming on their new V-Day promotion. Zero chance you will miss it, if you act before time zero. Like at Green Mill also, as it will be ground zero before their new sign acometh, zoning in on specials galore.)
At bookends there are all those budding, with sales, Kwik Trip convenience stores, and their non-sale prices for bananas, onions and potatos that started at $0.01 short of 20 cents for one pound, back about 20 years ago, then amped up to such as 30 and 40 and now 50.
Lastly, referring back to the earlier post largely on Wild winger Zach Parise — and I will doubledown on it — he recently turned 1.0 years short of the big 40, and is embarking on his renewed career of 1.0 years short of 20 years. That’s one-half of his life. See more on that in a post below.
And to think I went through this total rehash with you — but I withheld the hash as it is way more than a zero-percenter, if you know what I mean — when you have zero time. But if you are active on the internet … And as such on X, or is it actually 0? XXs and OOs. So as you like it, or don’t, I’ll bet my last penny that when signing that former term, as your name on the sing-it list, that they do not have zero-tolerance for karaoke.
I’ll stop now. Zero chance.

Locust Street well represents authentic historic Hudson, and the Hudson Flower Shop goes back enough decades to fit that decorated bill with its varied and colorful flora.
The business has been a power in flower sales — and you get that mantra by existing before television commercials — on Locust Street since 1946. Most fully mature trees don’t have that long a live span. Shelli Erck is the fifth owner of the store, and one of those here who also teach prominently how to decorate and design, and has been in this capacity with the shop for 28 years. That’s more than one-third of the store’s entire lengthy tenure.
She is taking the lead in putting out their product, and thus promotion, behind the effort called Love on Locust Street. There have been a few other times, over this one, using this same collaboration theme, and her store is the sales force behind the street’s take, with nine stores banding together almost back-to-back-to-back, for what band or such to get your significant other. Or for yourself. (Musically as a mega-concert, of bands? Or otherwise on The Street.)
They say, the nine stores all as one: “Love yourself!! Love someone special!! We have all your pampering needs whether you are pampering yourself or someone special …” Small hearts pasted over each one when you come in. With our without your significant other.

– And for such self-love, in a good way, there is the Arcana Apothecary a half-block down from my apartment building on Hudson’s Second Street that all Sunday (fitting?) afternoon will offer an event heavy on these topics, providing a light through products and their usage involving herbal baths and ritual salts, and my best loved, self-affirmation candles. Called a transformative alchemy. Sounds good to me, by and large, with what they’ve said. See their website for some added information and how to register, and also reference Droplets of Wellness below on this post, as you gotta love it and love you.
And the place nextdoor to me has at work here as a side hustle, so to speak, Sacred Iris Botanicals, and the middle name makes me think of the name of the Egyptian goddess.
And especially if you are a guy, you can (also) treat yourself to a $20 haircut at the called classic barber upstairs, (don’t know about the facial massage aspect and their is no Arcana arcade.) But still, pamper yourself, and thus take care better care of yourself, regardless of your gender. Like with my busy with jobs, plural, bartender friend who I just told on her most crammed-in day, to make sure and book in 20 minutes of downtime simply to veg-out and … just “be” thusly. –

Back to our main store, which also looks small from the street but it’s mighty inside! Way beside smaller plants. Its hard to disagree as some arrangements are the size of full bushes and feature all colors of the rainbow at once, with stems of varied thicknesses and turnings and styles. Vases are of all shapes and bendings, and the flora can spread out way to the side on many of them. Floral arrangements, as examples of what you can purchase, cover the walls up to the ceiling, with hanging plants everywhere, and they use the space to best extent to breathe beauty into all ends of the place. There is more than one aisle to stroll through, with flora-packed sub-aisles within aisles, featuring tiers and layers of counters as you go upward, and what you see changes up as you move — or also linger — and go along. The twinkling lights strung around the higher reaches add to the appeal. This particular use of space doesn’t even include the back areas that are large in size and give plenty of room for the designers to make their creations.
One of them that was being arranged as I talked to Erck had a beautifully artistic look, original in design with a combination of various greenery and deliciously understated bright flowers, that included a wide metal vase that was legitimate gold in color.
“We carry a large supply of fresh-cut flowers, restocking our cooler multiple times through the week. We also have a large selection of greeting cards, gifts, plants and containers,” Erck emphasized. “Our designers boast over 50 years of design experience and Shelli, the owner, is an instructor at The Institute of Floristry in Minneapolis, Minn. We have been designated the people’s favorite florist by St. Croix Valley magazine for the last five years. We take pride in creating a personal experience you can rave about. Our motto is that, We want to be your first choice for flowers in the St. Croix Valley.” I have dealt with the magazine as a writer, and their advice comes well recommended.
The shop feaures a big “cooler” separate area that has the warmth of many flowers, that you can venture into, with a varied greeting card selection alongside. And more and more …
Hudson Flower Shop has a poignant logo too, with a big H and flowery six-pedal design attached alongside.
One of many out of the photos online, shows an arrangement with close to a dozen of distinct types of flora.
The store has a synergy to a very longtime jewelry and diamond store in the same block, and such others including Knoke’s Chocolates, having been there since the year 2000. So there is a full Locust Street promotion that might interest anyone who sees red, in a good way, leading up to Valentine’s Day.
Check out the web site at www.hudsonflowershop.com. And give them a call and see what everyone is talking about, they suggest. People have done so for decades, since before the time phones were a thing. People in those days stopped by in-person. And they can today at Street No. 222.
And visit also, the eight other stores up and down the one main and virtually only block of Locust Street to see their varying kinds of merchandise, in many different categories. They are all part of the promotion that together mainfests the slogan Love On Locust Street. A common theme in all the stores is an extensive and varied inventory, that could be called eclectic, if an overused term. Their flyer lists the street numbers of all the venues in an upper corner, generally going up by only a numeral or two.
An inventory example, from Rose and Lavender: There are all those books, to make for dates that are truly blind, that have there covers closely covered and masked, but just naming first a genre and then three sub-genres — a mystery in itself. Next-shelf, way in the back past tons of other stuff, are big fluffy pillows and a wicker basket beneath, for variety.
These are the other stores, roughly in order: a’ la mode salonspas, Beloved Makers and Company, Post American eatery, BackRoom Vintage, Chapter2 Books, and Droplets of Wellness. As Locust Street shows its nine lives.

You know a chilly but smokin’ and scarfed penguin in this, the land and ice and snow and Coldies, will mean fun that just keeps on ballooning!
That’s the theme mascot, of sorts, for the 2024 Hudson Hot Air Affair, and the multitude of music and tasting has been described in my previous posts but there is even more frivolity that will not fizzle in this, its 35th year of bringing the heat to the air. Newer much warmer weather, and mild wind in western Wisconsin, will likely mean hot air balloons indeed go up. There are burner-borne launches — following up on a space day of moon and Mars at the Hudson Public Library — slated for Saturday and Sunday morning at 7:35 a.m. and Saturday at 3 p.m. Add to that a 7 p.m. torchlight parade on Friday, and a moonglow/field of fire at 6:30 p.m. on Saturday. Winds are forecast to be below the 10 mph threshold for launch, especially Sunday. Just don’t quite know about smoosh-boarding. (The named activities all are at the school grounds at EP Rock Elementary on the hill, except for the downtown parade.)
This music-heavy Affair even features a piano-theme balloon among its dozens, be it plinky or pounding like Tim Grady on the Grand, every early evening this weekend at Ziggy’s Live Music Bar and Restaurant. Other music rocks the whole town also. Penguin mascots love to mingle and dance — and even sample drinks that forget those fishy gars, are far beyond sea water — just not with killer whales, as that scares the wool-scarfed, feathered and flippered ones.
In a newer related event, also in the chilly water, the Hudson Rotary Club goes beyond its killer annual car raffle and jumps in the lake early-afternoon with a St. Croix River Dunk of polar style, at the Lakefront Park beach on Saturday from 1-3 p.m.

– Did I call this polar pizzazz chilly? As the time of this writing update, just before 10 a.m. after a night of checking out the sights and sounds of The Affair, it was hovering around freezing and expected to get several degrees warmer around the slosh-around-in-the-lakefront-or-is-it-a-river time. So they might get even more than their originally expected 200 water jumpers, per my pals at the Hudson Star-Observer, and thus make more than the $100K goal for charity! Great news for all but polar bears. So this event doesn’t have to be a bear for those who are timid, hey even up here in the Great Northwoods And Waters some of us have our limits, (as in Boundaries in our Waters), as per this the sixth annual, actually, event that streams. And in the HSO submitted photo, showing that being-in-costume lives beyond the Friday night torchlight parade, there was a man who looked like a combo of a bear and rocker Jack Black, as this is a HHAA music weekend, and a very much taller likeness of Will Ferrell. And such guys do indeed dress up, be that good or bad, or in-between.
(For occasional updates on the Hudson Hot Air Affair happenings, “shortly” after they occur or are ongoing, see this website’s Notes From The Beat department, listed alongside.) –

To wit, to steel yourself, at the sponsoring dance venues and various others: There will be the Sippin’ With The Hotties Beverage Crawl, with special prices on unique alcoholic and non-alcoholic creations, and you can start but not end with launch-timed bloodies.
All through the three-day event weekend, there’s this connected offering — giving a chance to sip without slippin’ on any newly formed ice — starting with the downtown and then broadening out across the greater Hudson area. Here are the participants: (Vote for your favorite for a chance to win a $50 Gift Certificate.) Visit these participating Hudson restaurants and bars all weekend long: Bennett’s Chop & Railhouse, Big Guys BBQ Roadhouse, Black Rooster Bistro, Buddy’s Bakery, Dick’s Bar & Grill, Grand Fête, Keys Café Bakery & Bar, Lucky Guys Distillery, Post American Eatery, Smokey Treats BBQ, The Cellars Wines & Spirits/Tonka Vodka and Ziggy’s Live Music, Bar & Restaurant.
To lead off the many examples, you may be beholden to the Hotchata drink with rum at Bennett’s, adding peppermint bark (or is it dark), with the first letter partly obscured by a mug handle, as shown on the sign on the wall — actually front window — that says it all. Such overt promotion will get you places not earlier seen with HudsonWiNightlife. There are three other deliciously “creamy” new signs in the area, that “milk” the theme of are you looking for a sign to do or buy something like such a specialty drink, and then the message in front of you that you see, suggested along the sidewalk, is just that sign. “You don’t need no astrology … or ticket to fly with me …” Listen to Ozzy expound, as he knows, having crossed through Hudson many times while touring with OzzFest.
Anyway, over at Ziggy’s, there is a special hawked on the bottom corner of their monthly lineup, on a marquee of bands that may or may not have to do with this not type of Affair, although that event is prompted by a similar and related sign in the upper corner of the same bulletin board. Thus pumped is the Voodoo Ranger Juicy Haze IPA. Given the music theme, at this club and the ballooning extravaganza as a whole, reigning with Purple Haze would also fit, and Sinatra and Godsmack and Jimi again, and Night Ranger also weighs in.
Since just before the new year turned, bartender Joe’s White Russian has been a resolution, and you can buy it with Cutwater Vodka, bringing it up to 13 percent alcohol by volume, and a coffee cream liquor. (Disclaimer: There is no official word on whether the last two drinks have been creations that go specifically along with the Hot Air Affair offering, but they show examples of what you can find and weigh in on. Check out much more, such as mulled wine decked out in a thin bottle with flower at Urban Olive and Vine, and play on with pizzazz as this weekend plays out.)

We in the Twin Cities and neighboring Minnesconsin area have seen pro players and musicians who undoubtably have gotten tight with their fan base, and especially some individual fans, to the point it underscores what they do on the field or rink or court or stage and effects in some way their business decisions, such as to go on the free agent market, or at which big city’s venues to choose to perform. After all, that formed fan base awaits, and both sides of it I believe stay longing for the act to continue. There is no intermission from such connection.
Even though this hyper-fandom — spun closely across from an arena, as is seen here like perhaps nowhere else — has always been around, these days such is more, as social media and just the general climate of faster and faster video-game-style pace ups the ante to stay in touch after away games, or become very antsy. Even if traded, which is unlikely with these popular ones, or cut or contract bought out. (Such situations seemingly have been seen here, in some years more recent than others, and the case is made below.)
There is always the regional relationship-making, aided by the fact that certain markets like ours are smaller and more compact in size (see down below), and that some clubs always hop with some talent and charm more frequently and people know just where to find each other, like a musician on a somewhat-small as to be closed circuit, but not to them. Regional can grow beyond regional, and then a bit of travel comes into play if keeping a budding relationship going. To see Brewers or Bucks or Blackhawks? But going beyond might be obsessive. Or …
There are times when cruising a select handful of after-game venues, grabbing maybe a quick and small beer and quaffing it at one, and then crossing sidewalk to another, especially if the places are close enough together for it — and that’s not in many cities and forget in those of any size — this subculture takes on an often night-life of its own. These super-fans have game on most every game night, and book it up-front into their maybe crammed schedules, so it reigns after their successful workday is done. And thus there is karma and beyond that rains and its increased psyche creeps into the brain.
So St. Paul ups the ante with its pro hockey team, The Wild, as an arena a couple of decades ago replaced the beloved North Stars and was crammed into a few city blocks to be built, where there was barely room. And additional sports (read hockey) bars would follow in construction, and buildings were revamped, basically in a clump, taking up not much more space than the Minnesota Wild’s arena ice and its seats.
I know of what I speak, although at this time am choosing not to speak too much.
This thing of The Fan and The Man can be a good one, not like checking a player in the back, or grabbing a facemask, not just jersey. It’s just the normal interaction that ramps up when one is a star player, and the other a fan, and a connection forms quickly, like at a meet-and-greet with the quick but soon to get more intertwined chit-chat over an autograph. Then where to go with that new and budding bond after all the names are signed — on books or even on babes — and the event is done? And the teams and bands played with often change, especially in the 2000s? And the new teams they go to, could be influenced by if they already know some people there, although that’s not something you often here about.

We love them here!
As I wrote earlier, they are our people, in the Twin Cities. And their fans drive them, like a rush to the end zone, or to put the puck in the goal.
That’s where the Xcel Energy Center in St. Paul and the as-pertinent surrounding area are, to use an overused term, unique as far as their layout. The many hockey bars are, some more than others, within a few blocks — an easy walk, not much more distance than for a standard ice skating rink. Even the Center itself is not surrounded by plenty of parking lots and such — the only big ramp is flanking to the other side — and what stone-base is there is concise in the form of a triangle, you even if a player are right there to go ahead and mingle. And not even hardly any busy intersections to cross, and few expanses of concrete, and few other businesses to venture past but such bars, and those that do exist are tiny. The locker rooms themselves are not far.
Even Minneapolis, not a huge city, pales by comparison, concerning its pro teams and the distances to walk, no matter which stadium. Might be better to be northwesternly Medina. Perhaps with Radar Love playing.
And the Twin Cities as a whole, even with its few suburbs, is not nearly as huge as most metropolitan areas, and when you venture beyond those select suburbs there still is much farmland and large-lot sizes, so not too much population density. And no big lakes, but for one or maybe two, and mountains do not break it up. City and suburb lines are not stretched out much by rivers, as at this point the Mississippi one has gotten very narrow, and the same is the case for the only other consideration, the diminuative Minnesota waterway. So per capita, it’s more likely you know someone prominent, or went to the same high school, and there’s a greater chance they might be from your hometown. And still mingle later. Even as stardom rises beyond the regional. And their new world tour has to fit in a Twin Cities date, this time more likely Minneapolis, so you’ll have to hit the road across-city if a hockey buff.
(A beautiful black-haired Hudson bartender friend, as tall as a pro skater, though way too young to have much money saved up, was like many in saying she went to one Wild game and was addicted, flashing her eyes at those flashing lights, and getting season tickets like so many from even in Wisconsin to become one of these minions, without working at Valley Faire, only a regular night shift at a popular club, so again we must consider the constraints of tight schedules.)
To further this geography lesson, when I was at one of MY haunts … across the way just south of the freeway in Hudson, I saw an older film clip that would seem to back up my premise. In black-and-white it showed a team that had just gotten a big win and a designated person, and this seemed to be pre-planned in case the outcome of the game was right, immediately called a prime place — it looked to be one where many tables were placed together and a large number served family style but drinks too — for late-night dinner reservations that seemed to go far beyond just members of the ballclub. Numerous men and glamorous women were shown sitting down to dine as staff rushed to fulfill this newly received order.

Take for a fact, Zach …
So we must take into account the fact that star winger Zach Parise, of Minnesota Wild fame, ended up being with the New York Islanders for two vagabond seasons, then came back to live in the Twin Cities and did not look back to rejoin his new squad. He did not officially retire, but he was by no means playing either, although the window was eagerly left open for him and his NEW fans, whom based on his St. Paul experience of many years I can assume were legion.
Parise, who still has the itch to play, got back into a training regime late last year, then ramped it up, but still was not coming back, in full form, to the NHL. It was like he was torn, between two worlds, related but separate, and was holding out from having to choose just one. The sports pundits said he’d likely let us know by Thanksgiving, but then even Christmas passed …
So it was not a big surprise when Parise spent the summer without saying if he’d retire or not, then chose not to attend training camp, and even sat out the season opener — all while deliberating a possible return from his home near Minneapolis. He was said to be feeling a strong need to spend family time, as with his twins and not the team, and to do so stay back in Minnesota. Yes, but I think there was even more to it, as far as things to do and people to see around the arena. And if he would re-sign with someone in 2024, he’d have until the March deadline, then could participate in the playoffs, so use as much time as viable … But before I further retell, I must back up more.
This seems to mirror the situation of star Viking running back Adrian Peterson, who left Minnesota, at least officially, and although aging tried to play for other NFL teams, with moderate success. Prior to that, he was known to have flown between 140 and 200 people, by published reports, to key games he was playing. He was known to be a people person in every sense of the word and intimate in his relationships, and like Parise was very popular and outgoing to all he would see. Parise in particular is said to be the ultimate guy you would want in the locker room as a teammate. These are the kind of people who would seem to have difficulty bidding goodbye to their mates, of any type.

*** The Minnesconsin theme, now elaborated, and the ways the tightly taut geographical landscape allows atypical fan-star interaction, carries eastward to Green Bay, which at one time under 100,000 is even smaller in size then St. Paul. (Star Super Bowl lineman Fuzzy Thurston, after retirement, chose to field a fantastic local sports restaurant and bar that was known for his personal appearances as a post-Packer as well as its full quarter heads of lettuce salad, which I once ate in whole, then found it challenging to consume the equally bountiful entree. In the Twin Cities other old players have followed suit with such places, and they always seem to be linemen.) With even more surrounding farm fields nearby to Lambeau, almost right off the city limits. As an example, the Metal God himself, singer Rob Halford of Judas Priest, has chosen later in life to live here or at least in one of its, again, very few suburbs. In a farmhouse? Get to know those (Whiskey Woman?) neighbors, who might have seen him do such songs in-concert early-on, while Living After Midnight, before his full beard but in full Harley gear from a hundred miles south in Milwaukee. If such a Door County farmhouse is a really older one that’s long fallen into disarray (and then rehabbed I hope) this might be more Black Sabbath-esqe, in this the Badger State. Like the cover art on their first album.
Even Prince, a regional musical legend who rose far beyond that, kept close to the Twin Cities throughout his long career, and enough people got to know him that everyone had a Prince story or two in their hip pocket. He started here and largely stayed here, as his professional base, rather then focus solely on the scenes on either coast. Too many local ties to take care of.
For many such players and to varying degrees — based on scans of social media, and not-often-seen smiling photos of they with their fans, and news accounts — a picture is painted of them having social lifestyles that would be open to not being just tied to the house. Nothing wrong with that, or having such eagerness. Games let out well before 10 p.m. Some have shown a bit of hesitation to officially, though eventually, tie the knot in their relationships. Nothing wrong with that, either.
So, when you know one superstar well, it usually does not stop there. You may get to know, like with your fave bartender, their friends and family and co-workers and pets, and pretty soon you know more than a dozen people, many in a way a bit beyond being acquaintences, and possibly taking in a couple of the opposing squad’s players. And sports stars tend to hang out with other sports stars, and musicians with other players, so more there, even moreso in what also helps form a growing network, crossing the reason for celebrity. Fandom becomes more than fickle, and the connections formed just take over. And multiply.
Although its obvious that the emotional bond is what gets these things going, at times those who are sought out most, by each other as its mutual, are those with a similar physical look. Usually found in the facial features, chiseled chin and oh those eyes, as they are the windows to the soul.

We go to CO
But not necessarily OCD. So here we finally go with some news. Parise just broke free from living Minnesota, (and/or The Big Apple), at least for a few months and at least on game days, and signed a late-season deal for the rest of the year with the hated titans of Colorado, who are trying for an elusive second Stanley Cup in three years, the one thing that Parise’s soon-Hall of Fame career has not garnered.
One of the first photos trolled out by Colorado, over the weekend, showed him with a bit of a goatee and scruffy sideburns, so cool but alone in the pix, as he has been a very high-profile and unusually sought-after free agent for months. More so than you would think with an aging star, despite the goals he has to score more goals. There is that absolute sheer sense of presence that he has — like I’m guessing have some of the fans with whom I’m guessing such players know — and that takes these things and those abilities to another level.
Such stars have a sense of charisma, as can he shown after the (one-legged-standing) fist pumps after scoring a run or touchdown or goal, since that further enables these pristine and profound capabilities, with their fans or coaches, or other players or the media. If very tall like some, taking it all in while leaning backward against the wall of a locker room, or box seat, or bunch of concert-goers, or raft of roadies, there exist even more possibilities.
When there is more time off from the rink or field, there is more time available at the rim of the bar, or other social places to gather, for those on both sides of the equation. Who choose to feed off of it. Some leagues have newer rules that allow certain days off from competition, and there are also all-star breaks mandated as well, when the potential time to mingle hikes. And when players are off of playing because of injury for a week or two or even three, there is even more opportunity. After all, yes, you indeed sit with the team during the game, but there is no time that needs to be taken for dressing into playing gear, or later showering and changing out of pads and back into street clothes. So away you can go, if chosen, more quickly to meet up with fans, even if for just a passing moment, as they try to catch your eye as they roam and gain at least a wink.
Methinks that despite a language barrier and the fact he at first, at least, stayed tied to his new apartment, new Wild star Kirill Kaprizov took such a new opportunity when he had a couple of rather long injuries. That would have allowed him to showcase both the newfound English skills he was learning and his babyface Conan O’Brien-like looks. A leading music video reactor and singer is also a doppelganger.

Next-level-friends
But when does interacting with fandom hit a higher level? Yes, venue proximity and scope of the layout is a big issue, but … This goes back to some people indeed being people-people. And then given an opportunity to boot …
I will present a possible greatest-case scenario. First, we consider a woman who is among the most verified psychic minds who has been studied, to the point that she went completely the other direction and became a bit of a recluse to avoid such attention. She could tell you with amazing accuracy what card from a deck was being held up, and learned how to move some other small, circular objects with the just power of her thought. Could be useful in another game, say checkers. So what, you might say? Consider that she formed super-strong bonds with certain people, to the point of virtually being “one” with some, a same ability as was reported by others in her family. Synergy beyond being like Tom Brady with his receivers.
And that she has the same surname, which is not a common one, as a luminary from the Twin Cities sports scene, to the degree that you might wonder if there exists a family-line linkage involving some such abilities. That pervades into close-knit relationships with other people, so much so they need occasional attention??
This woman established a very close relationship with a guy friend, and after wartime duty they communicated regularly by letter — this was before most people had phones and they lived far apart, in different cities.
To summarize details for the sake of peoples’ privacy, she fell very ill one night and woke from her sleep shocked with a particular set of symptoms, and right away sought out the help of her mother. She found out soon afterward that the guy friend, during that same night, died from a similar cause, and she had felt it in her own body.
Where there is such linkage, there can be a need to reconnect with some people fairly often, as with seeking out fave fans. Are you getting my drift?
Such people and yes players often are very high energy, like few these days are not afraid to get physical and down and dirty, have a great work ethic, and these charisms combine onto a crazy training and practicing regime. All the people mentioned in this post check-out with that description. So they may come back from injury in record time, like Adrian acting like a little kid with his awesome training activities after his ACL, I think it was, acted up. The degree of such activities is already well documented.
What, on Kirill being too soft? And not deflecting with his own physical play the cheap body checks he often gets as a superstar? Hey, I think he’ll be fine, because after all, he is a Russian … with all the grit that comes with that.

Broten too …
In coming near a close, and case in point, we go back to a now-retired, North Star hockey player who lives near Hudson in Wisconsin, Neil Broten. As we here are indeed a bedroom community, and there is a coziness as far as being central that’s much like the Xcel Energy Center, and the way things are close in proximity, even with nightspots being in the same block, not a ways to walk. And Broten for years has been known to be very social, regularly, and almost to a fault. As a mutual friend said a number of years ago, we both have our various people with whom we are very close, but it’s moreso with Broten, “he’s wired differently.”
Is there more info that I am holding back, to be stated at the appropriate time? Of course. Much more. But for a later occasion …