Contact us
Back to All Posts

The recent holidays with a nightlife aspect range from Fat Tuesday to Valentine’s Day, but what’s coming up is the monster of them all, St. Patrick’s Day.
— It’s that time of year where you can’t go longer than it takes to shoot some Irish whiskey without hearing Dropkick Murphy’s on the local jukebox, or Celtic Women on a PBS fundraiser. With that said, extraordinary Hudson bartender and singer Amanda said she’s gotten off for St. Patrick’s Day to go see Gaelic Storm in the Cities, which she described as an “internationally known Irish band.” You can check it on-line. But is that comparison geographically non-sensical?
— A while back, I took in the performance of an Irish singer and storyteller at the Winzer Stube, and as part of a silly song he described the farts of a dainty young woman as “light and airy” and those of a heavy man as … well, we won’t go there. Some of my more prudish relatives started booing, lightly, and a bit embarrassed, I wanted to disappear, maybe into the restroom. I guess I won’t be taking them to that punk rock concert.
— The most Irish hats you can find, short of the Party City stores in the Cities, are hanging from the ceiling at Guv’s Place in Houlton, when after factoring in the other green decorations are almost one per ceiling tile. For another such display of glittery greenery, check out Dick’s Bar and Grill.
— Fat Tuesday was largely without bead exchange. However, at the Jeff Loven one-man band performance the following Sunday, a flirtatious young woman made up the difference by taking some of her scads of beads and draping them around the neck of the aforementioned Amanda while she sang. When Amanda returned to her bartending duties, that one woman stole the show from the one-man band in a way truly worthy of Fat Tuesday, if you know what I mean. Dick’s had advertised its offerings, pre-fish-eating and post-megamall-misdeeds, as “99 cent burgers on Fat Tuesday. Beads and Burgers … Just like the good ole days.” You might add a third B, that being beer.
— Here’s the ultimate Valentine’s Day drink, which was available most prominently at Pudge’s Bar: Kinky brand liquor, which was called a lot more fun than chocolates and flowers. Pictured on a flyer was a nostalgic-looking couple sitting on a Middle Class couch, straight out of Leave it to Beaver. This imagery seen in Hudson? No, no …
— And two new revelations about art, taken broadly: The Pepperfest King across the street had added big pink Valentine’s Day hearts to the front of his green ceremonial pepper, as he seems to be marking every holiday as it comes. Then there’s the brown, rustic-looking sign across the front of the huge ice sculpture created by Casanova’s Historic Liquors, which has been added to the presence of a US flag and is an ad for their beer cave event. The sign seems to be sliding downward over time, maybe because of (finally) melting snow.

Share the Post:

Related Posts

  • Full metal jacket? Hey, I wasn’t exactly to the point of going Rob Halford. But tastes aside, there must be some reason why after 26 years I was shunned, like going Bob Daisley by Ozzy at his reunion? OK, I know, my style may not have fit with the packed crowd. And the last couple of times for this, I tried to do too much with ad-libbing. So yeah, I get that this time around, I was the somewhat unusual choice to be the one left off the set list, with singers clamoring to get up there. But seriously, just being analytical of strengths and weaknesses as a singer here, no hard feelings. I’m not Dio. (Or Traveling Wilburys, an inside joke.)
It was clear to me at the most recent Jeff Loven music show in Hudson, for Memorial Day weekend, that there has been a changing of the guard. The sword has been passed. New blood, like Yungblud, has been brought in. And, I must say, loyalty — amongst the devotees who travel frequently and all across the two-state area to virtually all of Jeff’s shows — has been rewarded. They are the royalty, in what just makes good business sense that I can appreciate. In a significant but not unprecedented altering of course, I was not one of those asked...
Read More
  • Songs by Napalm Death? A fire swept down my very street today, where the babies were burned. (But alas, a new A/C unit is on its way up the freeway.) The Stones did not leave these themes unturned, either, or should I say unrolled. Oh wait, this all was my cooker of an apartment, and we are not talking the kitchen. But all these matters will become more pressing, a pressure point, as the new normal especially in southern climes is temp well into the triple digits. It is these people, the third world, and their heat stroke not mine, that most concern me. (Another example of hellfire temps just added. Sin after Sin.)
Trial by fire. My broiling heart in my efficiency flat still beats a bit, in concern over those boiling over in worse apartments in a Chicago tenancy, or on an ocean island instantly-burn-your-feet beach or dessert, or forced to endure ice baths just to keep cool — or simply be offered no way to maintain an ice-dripping body other than also read a non-cookbook at the library, or select not a big steak you can’t afford but a 73/27 burger from a freezer and slap it on your forehead. Just not too hard. All these things are ones where you especially today either burn or...
Read More
  • I had a dream … And out of it (re)sprouted an ancient spring fertility rite to save the world, or at least my apartment building, or at least my second story window, from a giant lizard peering in, out at T-Rex days of yore. This ritual requires copious amounts of consumption and goes from there to hobbits and lords who are not yet a-leaping, for reasons to be retold in this fanciful, twisted tale (of fiction?) Just watch the use of Why! The letter, that is. And try to catch on to the inside jokes. (Psst. Another tale inside. Or two.)
This is a truly awfuI, twisted tale of villains and heroes, powerful ale if used carefully, giant beasties and smaller hobbyts, but also renewal and redemption. I will ascrybe to an ancient rytual, back to when the tyme gyant lyzyrds peered into second story wyndows of apartment byldings and no amount of walls could keep them out of such urban non-placated places, save this practice that annually, about this tyme of three-day holiday, would save humanity for another year.  So in this spryng fertility ryte, go consume copious quantities of hunhy grhym cr’krz and jinjer biyr, deprived of its alcohol as worshippers need to be sober-headed...
Read More
  • And musings moreover —– A full list of the trios of triumph. The power of threes. A full dozen of these triads, oh make that 13 as we linger, that you will see listed as shopping promptings in three long blocks of store windows of downtown Hudson. Three’s company? Get it? Third time’s the charm. And this is a truism, the words, some of them three letters, chosen to depict their offerings show the diversity of, dare I say it, a Super WalMart.
Here goes the ultimate list of lingo, even if it languishes, in no particular long order, as we go at length into the different kinds of businesses you will find in this locale, starting the list and at its last, two of the many art galleries in our downtown: — Feminist power, love and generosity, and to double your fun, framing, art tchotchkes and earrings, all at the biggest little art and collectables gallery you will see mid-block. — Community, commerce and tourism, touted at the Hudson Area Chamber of Commerce and Tourism Bureau, in a blatant suck up to...
Read More
  • And musings moreover —– To skate or not to skate? Not on most Hudson streets and sidewalks, you don’t. Even though most users I’ve encountered have been courteous and safe — saying ‘on right’ as they go by on a fairly busy sidewalk, and not just barely edging past you — the city council in essance banned the usage last fall. I think this goes too far in what amounts to dare I say it, big brother-type stringency. I prefer a more ‘urban’ style ambiance, with a Twin Cities type of bustle. (For what of that is to be found, come Friday, ‘jump’ inside. That post now updated, for more weekend options.) I now start with a joke.
As far as, for starters, the old announcement, “passing on the right,” this was said to me just now by a beautifully tanked woman in a bikini, owning the downtown sidewalk. She was slightly gasping and moaning as she almost carressed my side going by. I ABSOLUTELY REFUSE to read anything into that … Spring has past sprung, we’ve finally had some really hotter weather, and a young man’s heart turns to thoughts of … e-cycling and skateboarders going past. In the last couple of weeks, you can see them again all around our sidewalks and byways, busy and not...
Read More
  • And musings moreover —– Shoes and shirt are welcome, to be purchased along with other keepsakes at a new shop or worn in. At least soon while dining at new downtown Hudson eating opps. You don’t need an app, read on, as doors are flipped open … There are still other options and opportunities, after the Wild opted out as flipping goalies, with Filip, only worked for so long. (Not so big shoes to fill. Just flip-flops. See below and under The Headliner for posts on such sports bar shenanigans.) So for now, in a new post, we Rally In The Valley, with eight bands.
A door on the side of a downtown conglomerate of stores, the front not back door, has a sign telling delivery drivers to deposit items in back — but the sign is flipped upside down since the tape slipped. A blipped language I don’t speak. But that’s not the only thing that’s flipped in the downtown. Lots of stores are either open as we speak, or will be soon. We’re talking still in May, maybe, and mostly earlier than later. While we wait with baited breath for the full opening of Max’s Social House. And a pub or another hub...
Read More
Scroll to Top