(Did we say hockey? Tune in Friday for puck primer preview report, as the big Badger band that plays for them and their basketball teams makes yet another a stop at Kozy Korner in North Hudson, kinda the ice capital of Wisconsin at many levels, with horns blowing and fill the place up. Don’t miss the advance coverage!)
What’s your favorite political hack, and pizza snack, and hockey puck-slapping honey? And can they carry a swooning tune that can keep up with the Joneses? Read, and listen, on for the rest of this rambling rant of a roundup …
– The bartender at Green Mill had her birthday (Sweet 16?) on Valentine’s Day, and when she told me this it was National Pizza Day, to boot, their specialty. The trifecta? And have this reference become the Frozen Four — the Kozy Korner kind now that its high school and college hockey playoff time with the local girls team going — and the server noted that she would still be wearing her flip flops to further force spring and its holidays, but they broke, in part because of the cold they were exposed to. And across the freeway at Jonesy’s The Local, its been a while since I’ve given the gift of macho gab and his place a plug, there was a big placard about an extended V-Day special, with dozens of red hearts decorating it. It was an off hour, and there still were more people in the place then hearts. A truly popular place, even in the winter doldrums …
– Across from Guv’s Place and its many outdoor volleyball courts tucked in the back, on the right side is (or was) a big excavation machine, even bigger than some of the popcorn machine honkers at certain area bars. These are sand volleyball courts, of course, and the big digger might do some heavy lifting and supply more sand not only for the courts, but for some of the icy roads, such as the ones revamped out front — more lanes to get to Guv’s. But now the big rig has been moved, probably because spring is (relatively) near and the need for sand on streets is less. And when what’s left of the snow melts, the grit under players feet takes care of itself.
– The vote is in and its maybe a bit like American Idol, singers vs. politicians. In the St. Croix County primary election, and I was there at the courthouse taking notes, Tom Tiffany took it, emulating the success that the bubble gum pop singer Tiffany had years back (similarity about substance, no not those kind of substances?) He beat out guy by the name of Church, a politician that likely was milking, in of all places Wisconsin, the dairy capital of the world if you rule out California, the Religion factor as he is a Republican, and this Church seemingly didn’t have the same success as country singer of much the same philosophical ilk Eric Church. And on the way home, his campaign signs seemed buried in snowbanks, in groups, and hard to see. (So was this all a snow job?) And also on the way home, well after polls closed and just in time for last call, I saw a bunch of painted-on kites (flying?) on an electrical box. Gee, Ben Franklin and his famous shocking experience … Maybe he should rise again, now that its Lent, and run for office again. We could use him! Especially with the enemy state’s Amy K. now gone. (We were debating how to spell that one, maybe for the last time).
– You gotta love these signs. At Kozy Korner, there was the current message: Justin Beiber’s song Baby was written about a breakfast pizza. A little baby or a babe love interest? In the latter case the pizza, if its high on pepperori and she indulges here too frequently, and they get celebs, might lead to complection problems that look the same way on a face, it would seem. (I’m sorry if that was mean, but to keep up the goods with Justin, you have to be upper crust.) So Kozy might consider offering some free ointment along with the extra cheese (Just kidding. These guys and gals at Kozy are just great, and they can party a bit too. Just ask forever weeknight bartender Sue across the street at the Village Inn, and Sue knows). And to invoke one more Kozy sign, If at first you don’t succeed, go ask mom. As in the old Italian matriarchs that really populate the village, hey their families are big.
– And then across the way at The Nova, with summer coming and outdoor music, there was this great tidbit of a topical message. Yes, HudsonWiNightlife can be current with the news once in a while: We would have a better sign, but the Astros stole it. And for even more topical, if not tropical punch, which we hesitate to mention because there has now been a United States death, (but as a bar buddy of mine so often says, better to laugh then cry). But consider this sign: Our Corona 7 is virus free … yet. (Dots added). To that point, a friend has been put in a two week quaranteen because a co-worker had been to China recently. Sucks, because he still owes me bar money, and hey, I can’t collect if his cash is tainted, even when he gets out. And one more, another friend was waiting to get her driver’s license renewed … is she young enough to get carded and need ID? … because wanted to get new glasses to make sure she would pass the vision test, and the glasses were held up in shipping from China, where everything is made these days starting with eyeware (they are a bit behind in porn, the regime squelches stuff like that), and it will be another month before it gets here via (visa) Chinese Pony Express — otherwise known as Panda? Her mom stepped in, another mom reference, and saved the day by mailing her — Express mail this time — the shapes of all the signs so even if you can’t read the letters, you can still find a way to skirt the system. And not to joke any more about the land that is bad tariff territory, and the awful thing that may be soon befall many of us, not just them, I’ve often wondered this, long before the current virus outbreak, about the shirts worn at Dick’s Bar and Grill by the staff — but the bouncers and not the bartenders — that says simply “Staff” on the back: Gee, is that a statement about employment status or some kind of infection? And do the bartenders who do not wear these shirts know something that their co-workers don’t. With that said, I met a worker I know at Freedom in the bathroom — don’t read anything into that — and suggested he wash his hands the proverbial, or did I just make it proverbial, six-and-a-half minutes, “or the virus police will get you.” He scoffed a bit at that, but then did wash at least the prescribed minute. I on the other hand bolted without doing the same, hey the sink was occupied? What, you’re telling me there was more than one faucet? Crap, also an operative word. Around the house I would not get away with that. And now we here Corona is present in every continent but Antarctica. Apparently penguins are immune to the virus, maybe because they don’t indulge in Corona-type booze, yet another advantage of sobriety.
– You can buy into the future of the former Season’s Tavern building, but it will cost you more than one of their famous Bloodies. The sign now says — on one side only, hmm. — not something about food and that noted Thursday Camel house band, but this: Buy or lease: (651) 233-7339. (Free plug for a great former customer of HudsonWiNightlife). If you take away the area code, you just might have the asking price? Or, there is an option, and it involves their most noted entree and its many varieties. The monthly payment could be the equivalent (in kind?) of 50 walleye dinners (discounted for fast sale?) And the closing costs are covered with those many sides of tartar! (Just kidding and Brad know this from me). Good luck to him and we will miss him and his frenetic drumming with Thirsty Camel. Not Keith Moon, but hey …
– The Lord’s Chair, not just the Lord’s Prayer via again Iron Maiden, has been constructed of snow in North Hudson, and can be seen on your way back from Starr’s Bar, with a snowman watching over like an angel. The sofa of snow says in front where an ottoman would be, its hard to tell, but they kind of read the same, either Lord or God. This is the same place that had a Halloween style Nativity a few months back. I guess this family is in good stead without further Lenten penance, as they beat it to the punch.
–When the weather got even a few degrees warmer, but still below freezing, the people in shorts started coming out. And I, being the one who braves the late night temps well into November wearing such to bring you these news tidbits, was leading the way. But then the day when the warmth finally creeped up to get to the freezing mark and a bit above, you could easily tell that the joggers shorts were REALLY short. But there was still that one running person wearing a hat … And on a day that was back to cool temps, there still were those cross country team runners, two of the three, who were shirtless. This as almost as macho as football players and wrestlers. And the next day, when colder again, the CC people in River Falls were out and about with hooded sweatshirts. And again, the next day, or was it two days later, it was back to warmth, but even so, some were back to sporting parkas, some even with sweatshirt sleeves under. (The commonality: Lots of spandex pants, cut off at the calf). What a difference a day, or more, make.