The late-night weather is enough to curl your hair, or let your hair down and go curling:
— A man from somewhere in Wisconsin, but really didn’t known the lay of the land, said that it was too cold here, even though it was in the ’40s. So he said he’d go clubbing in Milwaukee instead. He must really be depending on the lake effect to have it be much different there.
Weather isn’t the only source of geographical confusion. One patron, after being at a bar in Ellsworth, said this when later trekking northwest to Coach’s in River Falls: “I’d also done this (drink) when I was in Wisconsin.” Usually there has to be some involvement with Minnesota to produce such a miscue.
— This winter weather brings to mind a proposal from last winter, by an employee of Dick’s Bar and Grill, about starting an in-house curling league. Such a league would probably not have too many members; hey after all, this isn’t hockey. A saving grace to the suggestion is the bars at Dick’s are almost the length of the curling route, but rather than being on ice, they are brown-red wood.
— Something that was on ice, at least for a few cold days, way a snowman not far from Kozy Korner in North Hudson who looked a lot like the frigid Frosty from folklore, right down to the positioning of several pieces of coal. When temps got less cold, and melting occurred, this snowman retained his look like Frosty as that character from the children’s show moved through those stages. Must have had too much hot pizza from Kozy. Also seen a hop, skip and jump away from Kozy has been the local version of a midnight rider, a tree stump made into a horse’s body that looked ready for someone to hop on, because of its leather casings and tether.
— How soon will it be before the gong is also gone? Patrons and workers alike at Johnnie’s Bar in River Falls noted that the longtime classic clock was in for repair, but that they still kept looking its way for the time, from force of habit. In its place is a gong the size of a hubcap. The old clock had a peg that detached and needed to be fixed, but I don’t think that could be an excuse for people not realizing its bar-closing time. One of the patrons, after looking over that way a second time, noted that someone had been in earlier who tended bar there 50-plus years ago. How time flies!
— The Arby’s on The Hill has a sign that might give you the impression its become a bar taking the proprietor’s name, at least the way the first three neon letters are blacked out. That means the sign now calls the business ‘Ys. That’s not a far cry from a license plate in the drive through, “I IV III.”
— A recent death in the rock world, that of Glenn Frye of the Eagles, was accidentally underscored in a reference by a local band leader in an interview for this blog a few days before. Steve, who heads up The Strangers, who often play the Willow River Saloon in Burkhardt, said the Eagles’ song Desparado was once very effectively done off the cuff by one of the local players, who was henceforth no Stranger to its instrumental.