This is a collection of interesting happenings that have happened — and in many
cases reoccurred in some form — in writer Joe Winter’s years of covering the
Hudson entertainment scene.
— While watching a hard rock band at Dibbo’s a few years back, I met a
magician/stage show producer from the Cities who had helped develop the
pyrotechnics and lasers for groups such as Iron Maiden back in the heyday of
such concerts. He told me that for some reason, he wanted to expand eastward
like so many people and ply his trade in western Wisconsin. I don’t think that
ever happened, but lately I’ve been tempted to plow through my closet and see if
I can resurrect his contact information. It was as a footnote to a magazine
cover-story about him.
— Another alumni of the downtown scene, “Big Ben,” is the son of the attorney
general in the Carter administration. Ben always felt that his childhood wasn’t
like that of most people, since every time he turned around, there was a secret
service agent ready to stomp out any danger to him.
— When watching the weather to see if it’s safe enough to go out on the bar
patio, the TV “froze” and Belinda Jensen’s face was stuck in what looked like a
permanent pucker. “Bet she won’t like looking like that,” since there was no
five-second delay, came the quip from the bar.
— Golf seasons come and go, but there still are signs, and we’re not talking
about old divots. I particularly liked this one for an old Green Mill tournament:
Join us “Fore” a tremendous “par-tee.” Don’t “shaft” yourself by missing out.
— The Brewers season also is over, as well as the quips from its announcers.
Viewed at Pudge’s was a game where the pitcher was known for his slow curve
balls of only around 67 mph. I swear its true that after one such pitch, the
announcer said: “See if it’s a ball or strike after this commercial break.”
— Also seen on the tube, concerning the NFL Network Show: “Sponsored by the
Rise of the Planet of the Apes.” Hmmm.
— I’m sure Sarita would write better copy than that. If you remember, she
bar tended at what is now Pier 500 while in college, then immediately got a job
in New York as a producer for NFL Films. You go girl! Take over for the late Mr.
Sabol.
— Lately I’ve been seeing some T-shirts that I thought had gone the way of
those that are tie-dyed. They are for the old Cities metal band Goatwhore, which
sounds bad, but actually is a type of theological/mythological image about a form
Satan allegedly can take and sire offspring. (Or so I was told at length by a
philosophy student seen at Pudge’s).
— It’s been a while since I’ve been to the ballet. Or as close as I’ll ever
get. I was singing some Black Sabbath (Ozzy version) in karaoke at Ellie’s, when
a group of Hispanic men who had been sitting on a line on a pool table got up
and started an impromptu chorus line, complete with kicks as high as Ozzy’s
tattooed chest.