You’ve got to wear the plaid — and make it the flannel form — or have form fitting stretchy pants or jeans to work at the bar:
— Right around Thanksgiving, it was designated Plaid Day, but the dedication to that kind of dress continued all through the weekend. The soon-to-be-trend started with the bartenders at the Smilin Moose, who added the look of red flannel as a part of their semi-official uniform, worn in homage to hunting season. Good look for a rustic lodge-themed place, just like the appearance of the jeans formerly worn by virtually all the women on staff when they added sequins to the back pants pockets. And for the pants that really seal the deal as far as making women look good, we have to reference those worn by staff at Buffalo Wild Wings, sporting their form-fitting (in a very good way) stretchy black variety.
— Oh there is that other Moose in the Twin Cities, but we will concentrate on the one in Hudson. But to back up, an acquaintance I met in the Enemy Cities, and is a regular patron at THEIR Moose, said she had been wishing to come over to the Hudson and take in our antlered type, but we then both acknowledged over a laugh that no rather how far you go north (such as Superior), there’s only Moose in Minnesota and not the Badger State, although we’ve heard much about it. But the truism remains that the Badgers are much more volatile than those big lunks who wander their way through swamps and lakes.– Being costumed around town this far after Halloween, even though inadvertent, was still a theme (is that legal?). A group of women emulated a TV zombie-acted (can I use that term?) commercial, by teaming to pose for selfies at the bar, a half-dozen strong. But there was merely one women who dared to sport the Marge Simpson Beehive; another who sported a rubber band on her ring finger. And don’t forget the couple of women who on the late side sported the kitty cat ears as a part of their black ensemble, and adding to their numbers those with such ears scrounging for late night snaks at Family Fresh
— Oh there is that other Moose in the Twin Cities, but we will concentrate on the one in Hudson. But to back up, an acquaintance I met in the Enemy Cities, and is a regular patron at THEIR Moose, said she had been wishing to come over to the Hudson and take in our antlered type, but we then both acknowledged over a laugh that no rather how far you go north (such as Superior), there’s only Moose in Minnesota and not the Badger State, although we’ve heard much about it. But the truism remains that the Badgers are much more volatile than those big lunks who wander their way through swamps and lakes.
— And as far as hunting, a sign on the freeway just east of Hudson, to be seen well after the sunset into which the drivers were heading, used a comedic tone to point out a serious subject: Look out for deer that just might dive out right in front of you, and don’t swerve. And its no dive bar, really, but at B-Dubs, the first hunters decked all out in blaze orange showed up at the bar to tip a couple for their success of opening day, even though midnight was nearing and the official season had a start time 18 hours earlier.
— Hey, I don’t really know my bloody Marys that well, but in the honor of Halloween recently past, we guess the redder the better. This theme even made it big on the big sign in front of Seasons Tavern, which I swear can be seen while on almost half of the North Hudson main drag. Tag team that with the event at Hank’s Bar in New Richmond, for the best bloody Mary in this one-tenth of western Wisconsin, and even had the draw of a “chefs” sample as a part of the freebies, that also included the boo-berry opportunity to also taste blueberry beerD (really, that’s not a typo).
— Also at Season’s, hail to the turkey, although its best not to be one, as on their sign “The Bird is the Word,” unlike the “Grease is the Word” of the noted movie. After all, you need one to make the other; for as System of Down sang, “Swimming in the void, we here the Word, we lose ourselves, but we find it all!”
— And in the category for best ugly picture, we nominate the zombie look for a person’s Facebook mug shot. Did I say mug shot? Did this zombie, thus, get big in hideous trouble with the law? And as long as we are on a Deadhead note, there was a big, bearded Jerry Garcia-like singer who gave up his guitar to a novice at a church event. Hell, when I was that age, I tried to play a six-string and couldn’t even get a sound out of it!
— It’s been speculated whole hog in the media whether Joel Mauer is Hall of Fame material. Even those classic sideburns my not be enough for an early entry. Just ask Jack Morris, who finally made his way in after years of waiting — which did give him adequate time to tip a few at Pudge’s, where he sometimes would hang out. Unlike Morris, Jimmy Butler will not finish out his playing days in Minnesota. Can he cut it in, say, a big market like New York. And if such added exposure would make him a Hall of Famer, you’d simply have to say, the Butler did it!
— And yes, Mr. Rodgers is still in the neighborhood, as his look-alike has been seen many times at Dick’s Bar and Grill, even in the rare times where he doesn’t throw for 300 yards.
— Unusual food spices are showing up as bar snacks for the season. Take heed, at BWW, of the BBQ pumpkin wing sauce, and then the pumpkin blizzard at Dairy Queen. And there are other uses for these great versatile gourds. Before a night on the town, I actually used a pumpkin under the cover of night, to smash leaves deeper down into a refuse barrel. And yes, we realize this wasn’t a jack ‘o lantern, of the kind often crunched in a much
similar way as a juvenile prank.
— And speaking of BWW, as advertised in their entry area by the front door, are appetizers and the like that spell out woe be to ye, as the guys in the striped shirts might flag you, and you’d get penalized for “holding” your snack, even though it would go over great in the “huddle.” Add “hash” and you have the Triple H. And at least maybe 15 yards.