So many problems in our world, US and UK. How and when to bitch? Waiting for them to be named by a sizeable band, if they shed light on politics and ethical behavior in general, can make you numb.
Has anyone else noticed, as we get older and grayer, the similarity in facial look between two who are on vocals, first a rapper and second a metal singer, knotted-side-hair Snoop Dogg and long and straight-to-collar Bruce Dickinson, one who spews island drinks as opposed to the other homemade beer, as Iron Maiden continues on in their latest with a gigantic gaggle of groups with requisite roundabout world tours through the end of the year, with a local stopoff in storied Shakopee, and not Stillwater, in a hopefully mild Minnesota middle of September, as we are one of only about a dozen U.S. cities for stops. (And for further possible fodder, a much worse nowhere-warm-to-stay winter is coming for the Ukraine, and even HAMAS.)
Thus, the bard, and a weary world awaits the words he will have, always eloquent, that could help produce many a bar and barn rescue show, as our autumn harvest comes closing in on the area, that is a fave of shows and tunes, corn stalks and their mazes and sour mash produced.
Will the boys in the band have any comment on the alleged re-presence of some old uranium possessed by our foes held jointly, either in verse or speech or gesture, as now their tour hits The States? Like The Trooper, seems topical? To dance with the devil like Jagger.
(We could include in that vein, metal-and-such as social commentary with the likes of Judas Priest, Deep Purple, Rush, Robert Plant even though solo, The Sex Pistols if we include punk, Jethro Tull if they are indeed metal, Neil Young though he’s more folk, and carried-over-after-Ozzy-and-even-Dio, Black Sabbath side projects, and on and on, on tours or even if by streaming?) And what about our economies and crypto, and ICE and affordability? Bruce with band, when very recently playing Toronto for the first time in a while, took a jab at Canada vs. the United States and “the state of the world,” and he referenced the naming of big bodies of water crossed, gulfs of Ontario and Mexico, and clearly appeared to be sticking it to Trump.
The Clansman? Where the Wild Wind Blows? Or maybe, as is actually on their set list, Two Minutes to Midnight, and even more endly prominently, The Trooper and Aces High?
That “U” enriched element of contention could fuel the meltdown of many an oil tanker or other ship rig — and at what rate does the fuel grow back? Can you ever eradicate it forever?
Maiden has emphatically spoken up with well chosen words concerning many such wartime causes in their days, but is careful in what social justice situations they address, with a universal bounty of such bailiwicks. I’ve often wondered how is determinedwhat they pick and if there is discussion about the selections in the rehearsal room. Indeed what about vexing immigration, (yes strongly touched upon in Writing on the Wall, but that tour was a couple of years ago and this newest one does not include material from the last decade or two), in both our home countries? Are the many Muslims, at least those who are radicalized or non, or the Mexicans minus the cartels taking over, or just proclaiming and defending their liberties? What will Bruce and others choose to address? And what about the (if studied as known to be benign but still ballyhooed) alleged fraud here in close-to-home Minnesota? The rations and ratios that are rallied against are ridiculously rancid. He does have his own solo tour coming up, minus the remainder of Maiden, in 2027 that includes one performance with a named Beethoven orchestra.
This as I bring back into play my older mom and her now-tended-after-much-corporate-meddling garden, and some well-travelled world honeymoons and such by her endowed ilk, and the coming of both football and futbol main seasons? (And hey, we didn’t forget about you, Steve Harris, Maiden beloved bassist and lyricist, and you don’t get nearly enough credit for that.)
Also as far as bands (locally), it’s noteworthy that I saw a guy at Dick’s Bar with a T-shirt for a band fest with at least 100 on the bill. That’s much bigger than the average ball. So I asked him about it, and he said it was a great show, and that he saw it in Miami. Guess they party better down there; and why is a guy from Miami drinking marquee malt beer in our downtown Hudson? I guess we’re cosmopolitan.
That, and the biggest news out of the Minnesota State Fair is that Rod Stewart pulled out (heart stent procedure) and was slated to be replaced by everybody’s favorite local fill-in act, Hairball with Slave Raider of older chainsaw music fame. That Tuesday gig sounds maybe better than what was originally on the schedule, as old replaces even older (and raspier?) but Stewart still does sing Forever Young.
With my State Fair foray just hours away, and the fact that the Minnesota Wild’s GM made a splash about a (non) mainstay-player-announcement at that big show, it’s also noteworthy that I made yet another Kirill The Thrill thrilling lookalike siting just the other night, the guy sitting next to me at Hudson Tap.
But back to Hairball, it’s been almost a month since everyone including my soon-to-be 85-year-old mom and others got dolled up for the big-fat, now-greek wedding and I hear that some of the stick-em in the hair remains in place, forever a perm — the first time my mother has gone so all-out in close to a decade.
But to segue back to suddenly abundant animals, at my mom’s garden and more, the black cat is back to be seen — just in time for now occurring Halloween celebrations — out by the made infamous on-this-site, condo’s canister and/or culvert. (I got to see the device in person at The Wedding, ouch!) The calico cat has also now been seen, after a hiatus, just in time for me to see about five times now a recurring, obviously, trivia question about such a colored kitty, and the answer is yes, they are almost always female. (And the Q and A about cows sleeping while standing up.)
A lone chipmunk was spied wandering in the garden, his seeds of love to sow, thank you Led Zeppelin, as the cat(s) for a while seen to have had them for breakfast/brunch/lunch/ supper/dinner, (forego late-night snack as they’re — finally — sleeping), and sorry to offend you animal lovers, but they for a time appeared to have been munched on, but the now fertile kitties will replenish it, as nature takes its course. And there was a lone — and alone — cardinal seen perched atop what, waiting for seed to again be placed out, that infamous utility canister. I indeed saw it finally, for the first time at The Wedding. It despite the build-up I’d heard from flowering — and not just dancing briskly with pedals thrown in the air — mom about interrupting her garden, did seem a bit minuscule — much like the one that used to be set back in the corner of The Suburban Yard back at The North Hudson House. Still I could see how it would inhibit the view of those flowers all around, thanks to AT&T, but some I’ve heard have been planted along the edges again. And one of The Condo Gods said he would eventually get ‘er done and repair the drainage problem created in my mom’s far yard, with the interchanging seed/layers/turf/dirt that was placed around the canister, which was now that I’ve seen it, more erect and tall than the culvert I’d expected I’d see.
On my Milwaukee trip, there were various deviations in conversation about what color of flora could be seen from what angle and was not obstructed by the great big fallen trees that were chain-sawed up, but you get the picture.
Which brings me full perfect circle, like the end of a culvert, to those overseas trips, whether they be for honeymoons or vacations or retirements, or Heaven forbid to do work, as vocation.  Â
I just the other day saw an ad about the perfect honeymoon retreat, and it looked to be the one where The Wedding was held. But called The Charmant? In of all places across the state in the relatively smaller area of LaCrosse.
So no, it was not like Italy on the itinerary. And Greece too, across the strait or is it sea? Or any other of those far-flung European countries on a full retirement tour. It seems every berg was hit except, maybe, that one that broke off governance from the bigger bloke, and could not be found by airline. Just kidding.
(But back from (standard) vacation, on behalf of Labor Day only, we have this feasting on split-hoof bonanza, bottom feeders, so good we’ll say this twice, but keep it at that for numerical efficiency: “2 4 1 Burgers at Green Mill. 2 4 1 Burgers at Green Mill.” So that’s that.)