Laughing all the way to go play cribbage and drink root beer whiskey, if the hypnotist prompts you to do so.
— The best things in life are free, but they can be downright hilarious when there’s no cover charge for a hypnotist/comedian. That is the case when Rick Turner puts on his show at the Village Inn in North Hudson on Friday, starting at 8:30 p.m. I asked bartender Sue, “Are you harder to hypnotize if you’ve been drinking?” Her response, “It’s probably easier.” Guess we’ll find out.
— Some things apparently are better done with two people than one. That’s the case with the cribbage tournament this Saturday, Jan. 10 at Dick’s Bar and Grill, as it has a doubles format that had attracted 17 duos — that’s 34 people — as of Tuesday night. There is a $10 entry fee, a cash prize for first, one free drink for all players and other perks such as gift cards for players. You can signup with your bartender for play that starts at 1 p.m.
— You can now buy Uncle Bob’s root beer flavored whiskey at Dick’s, and the flyer promoting it asks “have you seen Uncle Bob?” (Is he one of those funny uncles?) Right above his printed name is shown a fancy, handlebar mustache. Yeah, I think that guy has been around. His brew can even be made into a root beer float but adding horchata liqueur.
— A duo named the MTVs played the Smilin’ Moose lodge late in December, and their song selection was something that the music network could learn something from, as it went beyond the tried and true. They opened a set by playing Johnny Cash, followed by Twin Cities favorites Local H, then followed by Cake.
Share the Post:
Related Posts
- Deaths and memorials. They do not stop with that given by Miley Cyrus for Dolly Parton. In what follows, I recount the recent musical remembrances of a local musician, as his father lay passing, and that by me in song for my own dad. And the resemblances therein. And a dream reflecting it all. (And newly added, we’ll Curry favor and Frank, and more on Dolly and the God she is close to.)
Just over two years ago, I sang solo an Iron Maiden song, Blood Brothers, slowly strummed via my cell phone to provide the instrumental, as the exact moment my dad was laid to his final rest under clay. A few weeks ago, one-man-band professional Jeff Loven, one of the best musicians I have ever heard and one with whom I have sung for 25 years, strummed the favorite Johnny Cash songs his father loved in the background for the last hour his dad had on this earth, the troubles of which Cash so frequently sang. Certainly, one of them was Hurt,...
- Elsewhere on these pages: Bark at the cheese on the moon puns, and Brewers win 22-0 to reply while Twins sweep a contender. REplay to replenish.
- For a post that has some of the cheesiest trivia-type references this side of the moon partway through, search elsewhere on this site to see it now displayed
A hodgepodge listing of everything that’s truly different but maybe baked porage follows, and we’re not talking about a connect-the-dots or puzzle-pieces contest or one on Trump’s foreign policy, haha, rather what I saw and what will be seen around town in recent times. Mostly, one of each. Think you have the world’s, or more likely local church’s, best grilled cheese sandwich, (coming from the land of, specifically, well curded and curdled milk and honey?) Fry it to the test on Saturday. No this is not an autumn chili cookoff, or char the best burger, or even a poker run...
- Give props to the several bands for climbing partway up deer-stand-style lofts, then taking to all but the lute. (We saw virtually every other style of smaller instrument at a Music in the Trees fundraiser for a nature preserve.) Yes, they dropped a couple of drumsticks to the forest floor, but perservered as a fan fave. Then a band from The Andes stole the show. (See elsewhere on these pages, other musical dancings with the dead. And on this post, a footnote about the many feet on the floor in downtowns, bringing business that is newly lively.)
Music in the trees? It conjures up images of a poet wearing millenniums-ago robe and sandals while playing a lute and propped onto the fourth fork of a bigger-than-usual apple tree and doing a balancing act on his ass while he sings a soliloquy or a soffit. Maybe taking a bite in-between verses, to match what listeners chomped on if they hauled it in down long nature paths, making for dinner and a show with duos and trios, and one huge and elaborate band. Well didn’t quite get that lute-ist. Or a bassist so high on life and so-forth stoned...
- The start of one song, was simply “Question?” So we’ll lead off this story — Guess Who? — with who will lead the blue as it attempts to fade in with the red in the county in this election cycle? Can we get to The Color Purple? Mock the Maroon? (A scam Alert!!! My post is massively updated after my short trip between Badger and Gopher states. So read on.)
Questions everywhere? These days, how do you dismiss an ad or a politician, or whoever or whatever pops up and occupies your computer screen, or mailbox, electronic or otherwise? And did that answer in the form of a package or letter or even air waves — coming from a pol or a pool? — ever actually arrive, like all those ads and flyers? Maybe it never will? And surely not written with a quill. As one friend just reminded me, it all starts with one problem leading into another set of problems. Or, like a volcano boiling and brewing and...