(Also, Martha Stewart still a force? As far as finding her, yes, existing offices and large production facilities here? This intrepid reporter had mixed success on the trail where he followed not the money, but yes, the ongoing leads providing bricks and mortar here, just in time for Mother’s and Father’s Day fodder as far as gifts? See this web site’s Blast from The Past department).
Go ask Alice when she’s ten feet tall, when framed by boards not chains, or when she’s just small, as such an Alice could hold the wall and the key to swaying the building inspector, since “all (of them) love Alice”:
— The Man In The Box has his work cut out for him, slaving away even after hours to help rehab a tiny months-ago torn down dwelling — as I’ve seen in treks back home — beneath ground level in a 10-by-15-foot pit that is framed by 2-by-4s. What was a one-room house is only a block from Season’s Tavern; people might wish to imbibe before passing by the reconstruction — as there are a lot of those in the neighborhood who walk a few blocks rather than drive — in hopes of seeing two of the old home’s skeleton, using double vision to make it seem just a scant bit bigger. To partially quote Alice in Chains: “I’m The Man In The Box. Buried in the mud. Won’t you (the Public Works Department) come and save me … Sand rains down on me and I sit …” All this to make the property, for the first time in years, quite beautiful, hopefully. This since the decades-long eyesore is no more, right in the heart of North Hudson. It was by far the smallest house you have ever seen, with no grass yard what-so-ever inside the tightly encroaching fence, and overgrown brush almost as high as the roof. But here’s a toast to urban renewal, in a small village. And someone I know noted, that up front toward the street, there was some headway made quite some time ago with framing of wooden pieces, but it was then covered by a great big — and for the first time I’m using such large terms — brown tarp.
— A carjacking was done in Hudson, and such breakins also took place in North Hudson, which was not unlike my experience downtown when a young guy grabbed the keys that were on my car seat directly in front of Dick’s Bar and went on what he said was the beginning of a joke being played on his friend. He then started pulling out for a joyride. I caught him while I was going out the bar door, and he abandoned the quasi-theft, even though he looked perplexed when I asked him for his license, just kidding. Then there was the recent time outside of the Freedom Value Center, when I accidentally got in the back seat of the wrong red Ford, carrying a 12-pack to boot, but the driver was more than Minnesota nice about the mistake. She did exit the car though, quickly to go get her favorite comforting snack.
— Dream a little dream, but they can be strange if affected by a night out. Two examples follow, as HudsonWiNightlife has “graduated,” fitting for this time of the school year, to dream analysis, although we are not experts. I dreamt that I was playing one-on-one with my younger and taller brother, but had to choose between layups or jump shots and not do both. Do they have this constraint in the NBA finals? Then there was the vision, shown by remote viewing of the sign outside the venue, that Guv’s Place near my home in North Hudson was closing. Ouch! That would be a nightmare.
— An option that we’re frankly, not quite sure about concerning a recent cycling ride for charity. Simply put, its OK if you are a “virtual” (cycle) rider for this benefit. But, however, it could be an Easy Rider.
— Drawn in chalk on the concrete near the darts games ar Dick’s, were a penis and balls, or is it a scissors? Like the great big onions that are sometimes waiting in the wings for inclusion into entrees, maybe waiting to get sliced by that scissors.
— While we’re at it, what was it that I saw on the pavement in a late night walk to The Village? A toothbrush? (I thought that because right next to it was one of those plastic, circular floss thingees that appear to appear everywhere along the street). Actually, it the first item turned out to be a well-positioned straw and a cork. Then there was a flattened red, white and blue can, as in let’s make America (and its beer) great again. Like the cover girl dressed in those colors on an Old Milwaukee can I saw. Across the street, there were two other empty cans for different brands. Diversify your beer.
— This was not a 21-gun-salute, even though it was Memorial Day. Three older people shielded their eyes from the evening sun with their right hands, sort of saluting while glancing across the street to the Smilin’ Moose and the cigar shop. If they were the more youthful age of many newer patrons, what would you get when subtracting three from 21 (year olds). Uhm, 18 (year olds).
— But an even more somber situation involving remembering passed loved ones. One of my favorite bartenders had the horribly tragic occurance where her fiancee died right on their wedding day, even though she tried to be upbeat on the job — and was even friendlier than usual, maybe because a need for support. HudsonWiNightlife extends its sincere on top of sincere condolences.
— In line to buy beer was a guy sporting a Rod Carew jersey (No. 29), which was displayed with an off-shade color. Then, moments later, as a guy stood at the counter, on his back was a different flashy red jersey (No. 22) that was for a different regional player with a really obscure name. Could they in some baseball universe be Twins?
— The Giggle Factory had its van parked outside the Village Inn in North Hudson when a fundraiser was going on. If there was too much fun happening inside, it could have been producing — to borrow a decidedly off-color phrase from a childhood friend — shits and giggles.