This is (or was) the local version of The Stones, and if you turn a few over you might find a Rock Lobster:
— With the closing after five years of Stone Tap, which renovated the space occupied for decades by the iconic rock club Dibbo’s before it shut down, more memories are being pulled forward — and still created. A fourth post-mortem sign, like the rest on a simple 8-by-11 sheet of paper, announcing the demise was posted, a realty sign or two were added and then taken down, and all the while the lights to the dining area have been kept on, almost like they were still open. But that didn’t dissuade a couple of women from happening by and saying, “I don’t care about (the closing) … I just want to look at the architecture.” Meanwhile, in those same days, Dibbo’s has lived on through its sometimes tattered group of stalwarts, by the fact that I’ve run into about seven on them in relatively farflung places lately, even in jurisdictions such as Texas, a metro advertising office, a doctors clinic, other nightclubs, a convenience store (late night of course) and yes, even a church setting. Many said they still miss the bands that played there, and that there will never be another Dibbo’s.
— Another set of signs, on the either end of Hudson area, also led the way. One for Mallard’s in Bayport asked if you, as a patron of theirs, would rather dunk or drizzle your lobster roll. I guess for purposes of this column, that would be a Rock Lobster, as in the song title, and challenge the rock ‘n’ roll bands that play there to up their tempo to the point of being Dibbo’s style. But with that said, it would appear that North Hudson is actually the place of rockers really rolling, as it was suggested on a Kozy Korner sign that G’N’R actually named their song Paradise City after the village itself.
— On the other end of the village, one of the places that Terry, the longtime bartender and bouncer at Dick’s, celebrated his just-past-30 birthday was the newly renovated Starr’s Bar, although the sidewalks and cement floor in and around his place of employment offered chalk writings in the hundreds of words with their well-wishes. They stood the test of time, and rain, and were visible for days afterward. This past weekend there were more such wishes outside of the new Mexican cantina, this time congratulating “Kelly,” and offered a basketball-size smiley face, although this time the rest of the drawings appeared like gibberish.
— On that same night Lumberjack Days in Stillwater stole people from the Hudson scene, although the pattern of where people partied was sometimes transposed. Enter in the bachlorettes to save the day. On Friday night, it was what you would expect, again at Dick’s, with everything being dead until about 1 a.m. and then the place being flooded with wannabe lumberjacks when that fest let out. On Saturday, there was hardly a soul at Dick’s early on, save the two or more bachlorette buses, and the predictable late-night rush never transpired.
— On thing that was not predictable is that Danica Patrick has now announced that like a prominent Hudson sports family, she is indeed a Packers fan. The race car driver will likely put that in full display when she hosts the ESPN version of the Oscars. While this announcment was being made on sports bar TV, the bartender said to a colleague that he was having trouble finding bitters. To both the person expecting that drink, and to Viking fans who no doubt would like to ordain Danica as one of their own, that must have been a bitter pill.
— Also on stage for a performance was Bill Joel, who was soon joined by The Boss — as was announced by the metro TV news in what must have been a slow day — and there are Hudson parallels. A well-heeled family who moved here from Connecticut had a dad who grew up next to Brook Shields, had a brother who played soccer with guitarist Richie Blackmore, and was old enough to know that Billy Joel was the local lush at the corner bar. And as far as Bruce Springsteen, local bartender Michele had a recurring gig where she was caterer to the stars, including Springsteen, who would always stop by and briefly say hello when happening by backstage.
— And also as far as what’s in a name, the local rag sometimes has an unintentionally funny one in its police report from the night before. The latest was a poor gent who was given the unfortunate name of Hel Say.
— This is not a poor gent, although you’d never know it. As in limo driver take me to the show … What if that driver is Kirk Cousins, the newest Viking quarterback, and the extra-long van that he everyman-style drives instead of a Rolls Royce, as was rolled out prominently on the TV news recently. That van is long enough, however, so that if he’d ever trek to Wisconsin, it would not nearly fit into one of our typical parking spaces, and he would have to resort to pulling alongside one of the strings of cars along, say, Walnut Street in front of Dick’s Bar and Grill and double park, like so many limo drivers before him who come here. Hey, that sounds like being everyman. As did the backup quarterback for the Kansas City Chiefs, not the Vikings, when at training camp in River Falls and telling the cart driver taking him to the practice field, that man, their was no reason he couldn’t just walk.