Jailhouse rock? Or rap? As we fight the hoards that are now coming over here from Minneapolis/St. Paul due to must-prove-vaccination requirements, and all this might land a few thugs in the clink also …
Then there came news of a fantastic rapper, who wrote and then sang as well at light speed, that unfortunately is currently incarcerated. Lyric fodder? So hard to get gigs unless you are a hip-hopper invoking the hood. Just kidding. The speed at which he rapped its seems, is not the speed that causes the wheels of justice to turn. And then the fact that he is an older white male, also named Joe … Kinda like Eminem, age-wise, but from Hudson per se.
The only one with that genre going forth that can compare, is a relative of the powers that be at Dick’s Bar, as his speedy pace was and is way over the top, with all kinds of different verses that are a rap thing, when filling in for Jeff Loven at length during his set breaks. And is some of it original, not covers? Where are you buddy, in these Covid days?
Then this Saturday at the GasLight in Ellsworth, is Jake Nelson’s Full Band, (their wording to set them apart from duos and solos), with a fiddle and keyboards to accompany three guitars starting at 7 p.m. and going for four hours — minus possible encores. The musicians have a Johnny Be Good, down-home appeal, in addition to a guy on guitar who could match some on a runway, not just a stage. Like the thrasher from Metallica in (short hair) look. And right after I hit the send button, now for the first time, I heard on the radio the reference to just exactly when they ALL IN THE BAND cut their hair!

You can call it the (extended) karaoke crawl. And as far as an extension, of arm reach, see the last paragraph of this post for a related entertainment option, newly added.
Imagine being able to win, (if only a moral victory for you and your fans in a pandemic), at karaoke on Friday night, then follow it up with a victory that even includes great prizes the next night also, for a several more weeks running before the finals up north, the march is on.
You can do both parts of this dual vocal “championship,” starting at the Bungalow Inn in Lakeland on Fridays, and T-Buckets on the way to Somerset on Saturdays, bringing in both ends of the St. Croix Valley. The latter has killer prizes, and as far as the former, we are all anxiously anticipating the return of the actual and more official Bungalow Idol, once the virus is vanquished. But you can still strut your vocal stuff every Friday. (Disclaimer: Actual Idol is on hiatus for the moment, but good things come to those who wait).
Both nights are known for their long-honed, (although not necessarily long-haired) knowledgeable karaoke deejays, both in music and entertaining a crowd themselves, often with their own vocals to warm up the crowd, in annual competitions that see everything from Sinatra (many crooners) to hair band ballads (not as numerous but dressing the part), and all the country, rock and pop in-between.
The Bungalow features one of the biggest dance floors you will find to accompany karaoke, and people get out there and strut their stuff physically as well as vocally, and the draw for T-Buckets is the most enthusiastic group of sorta groupies that you will ever encounter. A really hot babe will be all over the likes of someone like you, living in the moment, and adding to the appeal on all fronts.
And rolling forward with the theme of the back-to-back-to-back opportunities, as per places along the route of the crawl, the Hudson Bowling Center has karaoke both Fridays and Saturdays every-other-weekend, and there is Jeff Loven at Dick’s Bar and Grill on Sunday nights at Dick’s Bar and Grill — he will bring you up to sing and even walk you through with advice to make your song sound even better — and then more karaoke at the Village Inn, as a newbie, on Monday nights, so that adds up to several nights running.

Ultimate Fighting is back at Buffalo Wild Wings on Saturday, and we think the undefeated though underdog might pull it out, before the usual packed house. Why? From a wordsmith, his name is Gane, and we thus think he has game. Is his first name Gabe? Gates as says the local ad are at 10 p.m. or 7 p.m., depending what coast you are on. (Shouldn’t they list central time, too?)

Hey Hudson, your own HudsonWiNightlife is doing a community service for … HudsonWiNightlife.
A few of you long-suffering try to find my website patrons, have written to say they can’t locate it at times, on their social media device. The answer is out in space, that is as far as the spacing is concerned.
As usual, Joe has to explain his joke. If you enter that website name and use a space or two, it may or may not call up. Try entering it in all one string, sans spaces. (And case sensitive does not appear to be an issue, this case).
To take it a step further, there are 61 and growing followers on my Nextdoor online “group” for the Village Of North Hudson, but somehow, there was a space inserted into the heading they have listed, just one, into the string. This does not appear to be problem in this specific case. But if you are one of those few, just in case …
And also, there are a select few social media devices that will not pick me up! Bad joke. But to continue that joke, if you are having trouble, ask the cutie next to you if you could look me up on their device. Conversation starter. And try to be as well versed as you can — although this is getting ahead of ourselves — on the punch line. If it flies with them, you have my permission, minus all those unnecessary disclaimers as I’ll cull them out since reading my website can be that important … and if the humor tanks, likewise, just blame it on me. One more community service, to hook you up and stay connected!

The two latest performers to pass on were much alike, and also much different, as played out with local fans and singers of their songs.
Actor/comic Bob Saget and musician/actor David Bowie pushed the envelope, but in different ways, and in what of it was out there in the public. And their visual appeal was at bookends, but shared a feminine look, which was used for both art and satire — we won’t even mention the late Betty White and Hot in Cleveland as that would be outside the two-state Minnesconsin area.
(And before I go further, let me reference the death of Clyde Bellecourt, an leading American Indian advocate based in Minneapolis. I once did a lengthy interview with him on his own turf, a small, unassuming single-story building in an unassuming part of south Minneapolis. What this place he used as an office lacked in high-class, it made up in colorful decor from his culture. This was a social justice from-the-region story that was run nationally long before the days of Black Lives Matter and the like).
When taking a bow for Bowie, karaoke is how I’ve always done it, singing as poppy as I get with Fame and all the vocal orchestrations that were really novel at their time. I’ve done it on many a night, especially years back at what is now the Nutty Squirrel in River Falls, then it was Bo’s ‘N Mine, loving to do on the long descent of that word mid-song. I also was intrigued watching some early morning TV and finding Bowie had penned a rockish opera that was strongly religion based.
As if it needs saying, HudsonWiNightlife has anointed Ellie as the semi-official western Wisconsin queen of Tic Toc. Her daily postings quickly gained a huge following, and this attention to quick detail shown forth when she had two postings on Saget within the day after his death. That speed Tic Tocing is second to only Weird Al Yankovic, who did something similar in volume and comedic-quality-haste a day after a debate, based on the debate, between Trump and Biden.
Some local fans of both Ellie and Saget say he had an alter ego to his family fare, doing very riske comedy that at times was self-deprecating, and upon hearing it were turned off. (Are you listening Miley Cyrus?) Did he push it too far and really tick someone off? Be careful about proceeding in this fashion, especially these days, HudsonWiNightlife.

So just when you thought the merriment and the leftovers that come with it are toast, so to speak, there’s the lingering possibility of yet another holiday party, such as maybe even the one for your office, if Covid does not take root — so another fruitcake. Or more Christmas cookies. Both with crust getting way too “crispy.”
Even now, after that latest shindig, you may find yourself with leftover foodstuffs that although favorites do not really combo-up foodwise — except in Joe’s brain. Here’s how to make the most of many of them, again by supplementing with what’s in your fridge already, although its maybe a stretch, moreso than your burning off New Year’s fat with fitness.
We’ll start with those deviled eggs, oh so cool, that just need their tartness rehabbed. Top with just a bit of my favorite, horseradish, and in this case the sauce is better than the straight minced vegetable. Or possibly bacon bits, and maybe for this example try to use the real ones, or thin ham slices. Finely diced red bell peppers, or the same scant texture of their lookalike, pimento anyone? Or just a touch of the green bell variety. And how about onion chopped very small. A tad of curry? Or in the realm of so hot its cool, hot sauce/chipotle. Cauliflower bits also for those bold, and celery, with a dab of ranch dressing gleaned from your favorite buffalo wings dish and then spread?
If cookies are plain and hardened, or you have only vanilla wafers, drizzle with honey or even maple syrup, (only have pancake variety?) or both, top with cinnamon or brown sugar or both, then heat in the microwave 25 seconds so they all mingle, but don’t got lost in your last Christmas carol and heat them so long they get too soft. The same treatment can be given Graham crackers in the morning. And now this in, from Keanu Reeves, add peanut butter that is preferred to be crunchy not creamy, and OK, he is not in my office being interviewed, he’s on TV with Stephen Colbert.
Plain tortilla chips — sans the salsa you used up — can be just that, so in an odd couple indeed, break those and also potato chips into pieces and mix into the same large bowl, flavors such as garlic and onion, sour cream and cheddar, dill pickle (with a bit of actual dill seed or mustard seed sprinkled on if you’ve got it), and a much smaller portion of big-flaked BBQ. Two flavors in your mouth are better than one, and also three if your eyes by now are too bleary to decipher. (Can we call it trail mix?)
All this may not please the youngsters, and you are at wit’s end, unstress through catharsis by taking in the band Them Pesky Kids this Friday, Jan. 14 at Ziggy’s. I’d bet a combo of Beastie Boys and Ugly Kid Joe, and a hefty dose of Kid Rock. Then its Audio Circus the following night, and when staff along with owner were putting up prominent promo posters mid-week, they were folded as to spell out the last three letters and form “Dio.” I doubt there will be that much metal.

Even well after New Year’s, the holiday display of big, long and multi-colored neon pipes (forever?) glowing were still reflecting the Light Of The World, and spelling out belatedly Merry Christmas to I-94 eastbound passersby just this side of St. Paul.
That beacon might be Hudson, where the downtown pushed thousands of partiers — most from Minnesota — through its halls and streets to ring in the New Year, with many arriving at the late hour that would be the normal closing time, and even a couple of hours beyond that, bolstering the total. A spike in numbers kept growing as the night went on — even as the cold continued to mount, reaching minus 16 toward the bitter end, and that is temperature, in Fahrenheit, not wind chill, which made the number even worse. But the cold finally gave customer traffic numbers a boot to the head come this weekend.
But on the Eve …
The spacious Hudson Tap was packed completely full with patrons, even more than usual by far, even though midnight was still waiting around the corner. The most noticeable look among bartenders was some earrings that looped and dangled down for more than two inches down the neck. A manager who is now a mommy had some time ago taken down her nose ring, passing that torch to staff. We hope that if there was any kind of direct transfer of rings, which I doubt heartily, hefty doses of disinfectant were involved. So if that is your kind of cool look, it still lives!
Despite the elements, there were some women going, and here I go again, bare midriff. (I told one server with such a look, and even shorter, that such dress is brave when its below zero, even if she’s behind a tub of beer, albeit swimming in ice. Her smile told the tale). That type of top along with, and especially, cloth leggings has replaced the Little Black Dress on New Years Eve.
A man and another man and a coatless woman ambled up to the main drag. “Where is the Smilin’ Moose? Is that it over there?” It had been just across the street the entire time. So how do people get away with showing skin on such a frosty-and-beyond New Year’s Eve in downtown Hudson? In stark contrast to the expanses that stretch on for blocks in places like the Minneapolis Warehouse District — what can be seen as the long and the short of it — a large series of Hudson bars over four blocks means you can park and patronize various of them without ever being out in the cold more than a block. Or even less.
Then there was the guy in a short-sleeved shirt — not the only one I’d seen but thank God for the collar — and a perky-in-the-right-place woman, walking along the main drag and talking about … how frigid they both were. Their destination, the Moose, had a heater pumping just over the top on the first step to get in, so maybe there could be a New Year’s kiss.
Inside that doorway, in a vestibule, the action heated up as many people tried to pass ID check and go dance. One man who looked a bit like a gangsta was let through right away — forget no wallet, no entry — as the doorman apparently knew him, and his character, we’re assuming. Another woman eventually managed to work her way inside, even though it seemed her ID was fishy. Even though she was already inside, she tracked down a friend/boyfriend/relative to vouch for the veracity of her ID, which she did at length with him. Uhm, he then had a shot at revisiting his initial decision to grant entry … so just retreat!
Others who came in were literally shaking off the cold, causing their voiced complaints to become a string of gibberish/exclamations. Even a guy in classic Minnesota flannel was shivering, verbally and physically. In an unusual twist from what you will inevitably see on any given night, nobody was being carried on the shoulders of their man, like a long lovely dancer might, going down main street. Perhaps inside? Despite the bitter cold, there were a few people who were sitting on the concrete outcroppings outside and conversing, (isn’t that what the balmier bar-rail is for?), thus stretching out bare legs. At least they weren’t like the woman with open-toed sandals where the pink toenails were quickly turning purple.
Back at Dick’s Bar, an older man who had not been out for a while was dancing slowly with stylish and carefully orchestrated moves. I told him he looked much like a younger Clint Eastwood or Keith Richards, both facially and how he shifted his feet. He really liked the comparison, especially the one to the latter performer. He added that he would not make it to the midnight ring-in, since that was before bedtime, and even 10 p.m. might be pushing it.
He was a one-timer, and there were some noticeable absences on the scene, most vital being Maya and some her friends, of either gender, who are or were regulars. In particular was someone I had not seen for years, but then had twice in December, as among her crew, at least she has been very cautious about Covid.
You could have stayed at home, and taken in a movie marathon. Even up to this date, the Microsoft Store is offering access to “revisit” the best of 2021 — and only in today’s immediate gratification society could going back a few months be “retro.”
Lastly, a backwards plug: Have have you or a loved one been negatively impacted by combat ear plugs, the ad asks? As a warm fuzzy (yeah right) reward, treat yourself as a New Year’s resolution — just do it! — to a Type O Negative combat-in-the-mosh-pit concert, as your plugs will not filter out that much stark-thumping noisy rock. Then take in the White Stripes live and Icky Thump, or as a downtown license plate said, Icky Trump?

If you are braving it out there tonight to ring in the New Year, you will probably be OK as far as temps at that point. If you stick it out to the usual closing time of 4 a.m. that might be a different story.
Right now, just after 8 p.m., the temperature is about that number of degrees, nine to name it. May not drop that significantly between now and midnight, but four hours after that, it could be as low as or feel like 16 below or worse. So that last 3 a.m. secondary-ring-in at the Smilin’ Moose could be beholden to temps like you might see up north in true moose country, (and not the old St. Paul area venue). But as the cabbie acknowledged with a slight nod worthy of Santa, even when it comes to The Frozen (drinks?) those who have been drinking want to stay drinking as long as there are cool dancers, despite the cold.
Bear through it all like you have seen on a flashing — fittingly — sign at TMS Auto, which has not only two different ways to say Happy New Year, but dispersed between them images of a series of explosions — the fireworks kind, for effect, not your transmission in this cold.
And if you survive it until tomorrow, take in the small band — as you can’t fix much for this price — Free Glue at Urban Olive and Vine come 6 p.m. For all those Xmas toys that have come apart from being overplayed.
Can’t overplay it, Happy New Year!