<<This scant bit of snow has opened the door for more activities, small in scale as they might be. Might they carry over to nightlife for the average Hudson bar regular?>>
The plows may not have been out too much yet, an hour after the inch of snow ebbed on Sunday night, they had gotten Hwy. 35 basically bare, the secondary roads halfway with their one fell swoop or two each direction, and but nothing much yet on strictly residential streets. (Enter Sandman?) You would think that the plowing budget would have a lot more under the cap yet this season, but I’m sure they will get it all prior to all those people from Prior Lake and beyond hitting This City Of Rock And Roll in a big way, and it will be allowed until close, as will be the case with the three weekdays following. (For the record, funny term with most of the music gone, the closure in the city of Hudson is at 10 p.m. Thursday through Saturday). And that goes also for you from the State That The Bars Forgot. Or should I say Forgot Its Bars? Either way. But will our Big Country, actually just Minnesconsin, see a white Christmas? For right now lets evoke another holiday just past and be more thankful for all those flakes we have.
And how does this max out, something that was being missed by the one person in our entire neighborhood who was digging out before he would have to really dig in, he and his very young partner who thought he was stealing the show with his shovel-work? Two riders were approaching, OK a few blocks away on yes, their ATVs that are kosher in North Hudson on all but that now bare main highway, and gotta say that some things like that just work out. They weaved in a major fishtail through most of the length of a side street, coasted through a stop sign at a secondary paved road, (one a rolling stop more than the other), than proceeded onto another side street. But then I also saw hard to miss signs of such weaving on the secondary road itself, this time on a curve no less. Down further a car that had to turn into a driveway continued forward a few more yards to get past a pedestrian, and in the process had to slide for a couple of feet before being able to do its turn. And not on the catwalk like Right Said Fred, this is far too cold, but at least no wind.
Oh, I have been schooled in the old school way about my rimless margarita tip, (see about a week ago in The Headliner department), both by someone selling shoes or something — I believe her name was Margarite and God Bless Her in her effort — but also someone claiming to be Jimmy Buffett!! Or was it the local man with a dead-on, hot and cool tribute band In His Name, can’t really say. But they concur. Surprising to me, coming from thus, was that one-quarter of that cup of cooking wine was tooo much, and should be reduced to one-fifth of a glass or less — and be sure That It Is Known that it is say an ounce or less, not a full fifth flask as you would see on a beach before a sea turtle snapped it up, and in no way could find the water after such. And this is free with EBT related, so follow the rules, or They Will Come Getcha! But how did this revelation come about? “Wearing my flop top, stepped on a pop top, cut my heal so I headed back home …” Don’t know how this follows having a glass, not a flask, as I have been told repeatedly that I am not to judge about or even think about myself, but the mix got him through, via EBT, until the EMTs came. At first the folks that brought him in treated him like scum or a bum or both — would they do that? Of course they would — but when finding out who he was not only gave him an antibiotic but a pedicure! But in the name of rehabilitation, they said, and I now concur, not to give even more than a dash of rum, (white or dark), to the aforementioned cocktail. So let it be said, so let it be done, so the sirens in the background stop. But joking aside, let’s now lets back to the real world, let up on both the cooking wine and the rum, and you will have the latter last you until next year at this time when we are again contemplating When The Poison Summer Is Gone, with The Eagles overhead. Save up enough money for more than a pedicure, get a manicure too. And make up the difference with cola, or even Dr. Pepper, (more on that later), or even a wedge of orange, lemon or slime — oh I meant lime — via your EBT. And wait? What about ice cubes. My guy I quoted has a long lost cousin living off the land in the arctic, who has come here because things got Key West balmy due to global warming. But this can be a good thing! The maples that sprouted up in his backyard a stone’s throw from the North Pole will not be bearing syrup until, well right about now, but he couldn’t wait to try out the recipe with the addition of some maple syrup to grace the bottom. Chow! (And not Chowhound the foodie web site).
<<And on the topic of turbulent, and not being a rush to judgement, since the Vikes put on a late rush but could not catch the Packers, so Minnesota had to pack it in. Attendance? What attendance? Who was where? A clue is that the NFL published on a website that there was no one in the stands. How did the local sports bars and the house parties fill the gap? Another clue is that there was an open parking-lot space or two where a couple of motorcyclists and their riders had found an even more open opportunity when the pandemic first hit and people wanted to get North Hudson offsale and delivery. Check out more of who viewed and how in the Uncategorized department of this web site; and you could say the Lingerie Football League sent you, (to be an announcer?>>
? How long can an “opening” truly be open, as an opening for a writing possibility, as it implies that it’s something that just happened, and if not then the case for making that case is closed. Until something more over the top gets going again, as it will and we will keep you posted, this is cool enough to have foodie stuff rise to the surface, like that well done French soufle, this is a blatant plug for other make-food-work-as-in-Saved By Zero, as that could be your full ticket price to save enough for that occasional T-Bone. This is not to be confused with T-Buckets near Somerset, where you might find more of the same, and on this web site, that can get your monthly food budget — even comfort food and don’t we like that for cheap — down to a few nickels or dimes. Go to the previous post and others about a dozen down to see ways that you can make that huge “eats” savings happen, with stuff you have already setting in your kitchen cabinets, fridge, freezer. I’ll continue to make it easy, so all you need is a Lazy Susan. Hey, this is no cut on your own food rehab skills. Sorry …
(Did I not write something like that a couple of weeks ago on openess? Oh you suffering HudsonWiNightlife reader! But at the risk of more dedundancy, check out these new versions of what seems to be boundless new opportunties. What is old is new again? And I’m opening it up.)
Other signs of these turbulant times include adding, in this case usually in the singular, as if it typically would need to be said at all, that seating for dining is available “inside,” multiple mentions on signs saying “open” in the same stretch of right-of-way and in recent days doubly in number, adding also a plug on Dominion Avenue of one of the many newer farmer’s market on Thursdays, one that aired Holiday Station Store specials and thus precluding their earlier pump for their glorious free coffee to pandemic “heroes” such as first responders and health care workers; and do you not think you could be included, after reading all these tips. This was an effort that also merited flyers throughout the area, an ongoing sock-shaped pitch for among others, Pita Pit in the form of their wind-sock on a stick, and a larger-than-life liftout that had letters several feet high on a billboard on the other side of the freeway.
In other such “news” if that’s the right term for banners on food beyond basics:
— The Hudson House Grand Motel has never hawked its cozy but roomy for a lodging place, tables-surrounding-the-center-bar-counter — which would be shut down these days if in Minneapolis under their decree — but now its grand sign has them opening at 4:30 six days a week, with food available at two different places in-house if only early. Used to be, as I found in my search for more ad clients, that if you say, were waiting to check out the Monday Night Football halftime show, you’d find the door from the lobby locked shut. No more.
— Green Mill has listed on the south side of their parking lot, that it was for their venue only — which was a hoot because they’ve, to their credit, ordained a 90 minute minimum for table seating, no matter group size. That butted heads with the lot from Milwaukee Burger, which has not been as packed as when they opened, but still would at times have cars creeping in on the short median between the two lots. These days, there’s often been a counter with an awning put over their top to dispence their food and drink worthy of Wisconsin, when as a hostess said, the customer traffic merited it on hot days. Likewise at Jimmy John’s, again on the other side of the freeway, fashioned in a way that it would be half-sun/half-shade through the course of open hours. But the last time I checked, what was thought of as the greatest draw, the cash register on site under the sun, had been taken away (possibly because it was over the dinner hour, not lunch when the sun is in a different position).
— I just have to add this mention, not so much about when you are open, but what you sell. Casanova’s Historic Liquors, (they told me so), said they should be visited for a back to school special. Hope those “kiddies” are older college students and no one in a younger grade. And then for finals: “Hard times call for hard liquor,” and then giving a phone number. Don’t they know this is a age of social media? But nothing surprises me much anymore, ‘cuz when I was that age, I was shocked that a few friends a bit older were shooting speed to get that A or at least B on the mid-term, then maybe stay awake to actually listen to that opening lecture (you know the one where the prof tells you all kinds of things that should be self-explanatory, such as what “tablet” to use — endorsement on a then-meager teacher’s salary — and what page to open to, “and I’ve got my pencil,” then sang David Lee Roth). Thusly, the hot soon-to-be-grad student did not invite me to her “study” party. Sniff, sniff.