The reaching out and touching you personally, if only via the mail and we’re talking snail mail not the internet kind, was a big deal in the series of latest elections and was the height of, in some candidates’ cases, what could be seen in the spirit of franking privileges gone out of control. The mailbox got stuffed just as full as the ballot box. And even the ultra-religious types got into the act when inserting their version of the message.
So you as a voter cannot let your guard down. Because They Want You, big finger and beyond pointed thusly. Since slim resources are stretched even further, right at the heart of the much-spoken-in-flyers “fiscal responsibility,” this and you are vital, maybe even a greater on-going priority (tangent alert!) than sending the National Guard Every Which Way But Lose. If you’re stationed in one of the two such Hudson centers that there have been for recruitment and headquartering (I think that is military-speak), you I guess may have needed to either follow the order of Gov. Evers, taking precedence I think, and go fight wildfires up north as ordered by his emergency decree, or go to the up-north Twin Cities to standby for protest control, as ordered by Gov. Walz. What is a border town soldier to do? I have seen some staffers come out of their center in the Buffalo Wild Wings strip mall quite late in the evening, no doubt putting in extra time and trying to get a manpower handle on such things. For the need for their services is everywhere, and no state is excluded.
(Tangent expires). A lot of this was a huge effort to get out the vote, by both parties mind you, and even all the cable channels going way beyond the old MTV push to get young people to go out and vote — in the many different ways that are largely absentee-based and now available that were not there in the time of our forefathers — before they could legally patronize a bar. Vote by mail, essentially? Got that. Although exactly where around the “age of majority” ties in, hasn’t necessarily stopped them from partaking in either of those things.
A campaign flyer, still sitting in my write-about-it stack, showed Trump waving to a crowd at a full football stadium, and I don’t know how social distancing fits into the picture. Right around where his big fist is thrust upward, there was what looked to be luxury boxes. Support the Great American comeback? Might ask Joe Montana about them pre-empting his claim to fame if and when he ever gets back to River Falls, in the heart of where this Red State falls, for training along the lines of the seniors circuit. And how doe this get personal as far as a pledging to you, the voter? The lingo of “voting in-person absentee” takes up a full two dozen repeated words, sent straight to you via the U.S. Postal Service. They must think you are important.
So much so they want you, yes you, by special flyer invitation, to grab up some of the “all-new legal tender $2 bills,” with Trump on the cover. I joked earlier that I saw a license plate on what could have been a poor man’s post-bankruptcy limo with the starting letters 4.95, boasting the price you could expect to pay for a glass of champagne While Back There, in today’s economic recovery period. But wait! I then saw another vehicle that wasn’t quite as long, that would be a stretch, with the numbers 3.95. Deflation? So in our time of recovery, you could get a glass of the bubbly for your two $2 bills, and still have a Nickelback as a tip. All the while being driven through the outback of northern Wisconsin and its colored forests with a path for the campaign trail and also barns, as these are about the only images you will see on all those flyers.
They also request that neighbors get together and drive together to the polls if transportation is an issue, and postcards about such went from friend to friend, as “the future is what we do together. Be a voter. Raise a voter.” They often were from groups, if even in a third party sense, with names like Common Sense Voters of America LLC. For sure wouldn’t want that trait. Dead set against Prosperity also. And another saying, I’m for the children. Nope. And the Center For Voter Information said they had info about me, this information being a prompt to hit the polls and cast my ballot, because its was a mater of public record that I hadn’t done so yet. This was being provided to me, “as a service to voters like you.” What do I say about this prompt from the Voting Police? I think I might cast my fly fishing rod instead.
And then there is that solicitation from God Himself. And did you know that since he goes by only the name I Am, and there is no other identifying group, all that’s listed is a Post Office Box. As in PO Box 1, Hudson. I think that’s by Exit 1. For more info, it says, visit JW.ORG. As in my initials, for Joe Winter. I didn’t know I was held in such high esteem! “The website will direct you to the Bible instead of giving personal opinions. (The Koran is out). It has information available in over 1,000 languages.” Does this mean they are speaking in tongues?
And then there was more! I called Dick’s Bar before hitting the road to see if there were very many people there to speak of, Minnesotans and their newly put-forward-even-more-popularly draw, or with other geography, as a destination, and thus make it worth my trip. I didn’t know what to expect in these rapidly changing times, set forth by rapidly changing rules. The server who answered said it was, to paraphrase him, deader then the dead of even death metal — are you kidding as not seems not possible? — just five patrons and him, but thanks for asking brother. So few people he had an exact count at a moments notice, when the press — that’s me — came calling.
Back at Starr’s Bar, and I know I need to diversify the venues from which I report, there were a scant few patrons over and above that number in the new North Hudson hub, but wait! A guy came up to the bar and said that he and his Gopher State buddies now have a new go-to place or two on this side of the river — do I ever get tired of that reference? And they will be Charging On To The Place Of Which So Many Speak, and there are a bunch of them, and how long can you hold open last call? And across the way, a guy that reeked more of Wisconsin sauntered up and said he needed a bit more change to play on yet again with the video poker, but all he really wanted to do is flirt with the bartender.
And all these people do need to, in the final analysis and does HudsonWiNightlife ever really wrap anything up, get home after their bar time, which may indeed be shorter for an unspecified-by-the-government, and aided and abetted by the club owners, period of time. And to be clear, it all is about what’s going on Over There with crime and its enforcement, with unfortunately can at times be one and the same. To wit, about what I wrote earlier, that you will be pulled over for something as minor as a small bulb that’s a dull bulb scenario above your license plate if its out, and the cop will ask where you are coming from: This from a guy I know who on probably too many occasions has had to deal with such situations — they will do their best to separate the actors in the car from each other and rephrase, hoping to see if their stories are the same.
So you are are a kind soul and gave your a-bit-swarmy friend a lift back home, all the time negotiating The Highway That Is The Danger Zone that is the Twin Cities and its current hyper-enforcement. You didn’t know that in the bowels of the back seat, he would pull out a bottle of beer and open it. The fishing by the cops when they stop guys like you for some of the above reasons soon finds more, like he has an active warrant. These days, especially, you do not want to have to deal with that situation. So be kind and be charitable with your riders, but above all else be diligent about things like the merits of, say, picking up a hitchhiker. Keep your friends close but … And keep it at that.
<<And now on the brighter side of life>>
It is the Thursday-Friday time of year again for the Cherry Circle North garage sale, to beat both the winter doldrums and the stir craziness that continues to mount. Score of houses offering anything you could want, if you have a buck — even possibly snacks such as chili, and beverages such as hot chocolate, as the forecast is for cooler temps. But there is no browsing fee of course. And I talked to the longtime fearless leader of this effort, now in its second decade, about what might be seen as its over-the-top merits. I don’t know, she said, but then started rattling off hot topics of interest that just kept rolling off her tongue. So I will get more specific: Check out the cool Harley at 637.
Two Minutes To Midnight? How fast can you chug one beer and only one, and maybe have to make it a shot. (OK, I know I really have to watch how I use that last word, especially these days. But I swear I had no intention of double meaning just a moment ago).
As I approached Starr’s Bar from the north, I saw fewer cars than usual along what is basically a frontage road for the tavern. But there was music in the streets, OK it was just in the back area where the bean bags are tossed. And the side door was locked. However, there was an ad hoc doorman by the south entry, who bore even worse bad tidings.
It was right on the cusp of midnight, and I still was turned away based on the edict that came forward earlier that evening. No new people allowed in after 12 because of the shooting by an officer in Minnesota days earlier. Could I at least get a coke to go? No, since they do not have even sippy cups. So instead, a run to the bathroom?
So I made my way and was stopped briefly by a now not so young man who I used to photograph when he played high school sports and I was the official cheerleader in those pages. Thanks for saying hello, but I motioned to the doorman that I knew my time was very limited and hit the can. On the way back, the bartender seemed ready to indicate that I could at least have something served, but alas, nothing. The two women who tried to enter as I exited didn’t seem to thrilled by the new policy, although it likely is temporary. Have to wonder if service also has been voluntarily cut short by 120 minutes elsewhere too.
Things had been quite a bit different about a week ago, when what was most memorable at an almost packed bar was the interplay, not protracted but also not brief, between a Packer fan at one end and a Viking fan at the other. How can catch better and run faster, and boatloads of info to back it up, and lets have another beer. And what have you heard about the trials of Adrian. Sad story about the bestess back who now probably could not afford a drink at this place in North Hudson. But the area was full all the way back to the long wall where they were rolling what I call mini-bowling.
So read ’em and weep. Or more likely, laugh your guts (and brains) out, as gallows humor should win the day. Here is more news of the silly — do you believe it? — and if you do look at the calendar, and the day that was yesterday when April rolled in.
— First off, HudsonWiNightlife got yet another major endorsement. And this one is way beyond the scope of the One Tiny Berg of Pig Farmers of Iowa, (we all pick on that state but they love it as they get the joke). It comes from the global and beyond online magazine of Elect To View The Best and Most Available Humor This Side Of The Solar System. A reference that spewed from it: Planet Caravan by good ol’ Ozzy and Black Sabbath. That might sound bad, but with the holiday that is soon upon on, the “S” word is always applicable.
— Going back to another holiday, when the Ground Hog appeared back in February, he saw the chaos that’s What Is And What Should Never Be, and said screw this, I’ll come back in two months — that’s yesterday — and see if things have gotten any better. HudsonWiNightlife indeed has its correspondents working overtime all around the globe, and OK it is actually only encompassing a two-state area, barely, to try to get an interview with the Hog. The upshot: Pres Trump saw what could be coming and buried himself — literally and figuratively — in a bunker Way On Down Below, which just happens to be the lower level of where the ground hog lives. Cuz could nuclear war be on the way? You never know, sings Megadeth, the name of which, of course, is a reference to the millions of estimated deaths from such a calamity. Happy Easter message! But I find that gallows humor is always better than crying in your beer, of ye Wisconsinites.
— The latest news is that the Minnesota legislature has endorsed — that word again — the medical use of the weed and its wonders. But only under some very stringent conditions tied to the bill: It’s only when driving in a car pool as a last Brooklyn cheer to social distancing, as you are no longer required to work from home and can commute since you were evicted anyway, and you are required to a have great big ol’ flag flopping around in the back part of your (foreign) Subaru behind your passengers. The bill was signed into law at a one-time different venue then the capital in downtown St. Paul, which is a dead and often lifeless entity anyway, while the politicians “relaxed,” and see what that means above, all the while at the club.
OK, I’ll stop now, and if you haven’t figured it out already, this is one big April Fool’s Joke, which is a joke in itself since it is now The Second of the month. I hope that you don’t find this humor too caustic, as again, we all need to laugh more these days. May the Easter Bunny and God bless you, although not necessarily in that order. Joe.
And in past news …
A post a bit below talked about holding out; would HudsonWiNightlife do that? Well especially this time, yes, as with all the various people of all types hitting downtown Hudson at night, there was the very unfortunate incident of a multiple stabbing that resulted in a fatality. Breaking out of newspaper lingo, a man was killed. And it was all over the Twin Cities news by the next morning or so, which is incredible since the main source of such news traditionally has been the metro dailies, one more than the other depending on the incident and location, especially if in Wisconsin or close to the border, and I know from working closely with both of them — again one more than the other — that the deadline for their print product has been around 9 p.m. with tweaks for weekends. And there can be ways to hold it out, that term comes up again, away from the hands of the printer throwing it on physically — at least that’s the way it was done in past days, the time of my reporting involvement — for something like a sporting event, the more the prominence the more the extra minutes an ink stained wretch had. Which says something about our priorities; screw the typical town board meeting. (And I understand the extra pressures of these deadlines, indeed on everyone, as I’ve had to deal with them also for many years). But now there are many other players, and especially if you consider online, and even different products within the same company.
So the fact that the news hit the street and the computer so fast, and you could say shit hit the fan, shows that this was deemed vital information, which again was probably driven by the fact it took place in hoidy toidy, often rich person Hudson, sleep river town that it not longer is and has not been for decades. If this happened in North Minneapolis it would likely be only a short recitation of the police blotter.
The killing happened a few weeks ago, and on its heels was a robbery at the Willow River Saloon in Burkhardt, a notably less pristine area, that also involved what was termed a kidnapping. And earlier in the year, there was a really bad accident at the Cedar Lake venue just north of New Richmond where a vehicle ended up grinding its wheels in an outdoor volleyball court until there was sand up to near the floorboard level, before police apprehension took place. Neither resulted in any Twin Cities news coverage whatsoever.
This could be explained in the latter case because it was post-Covid-closure-time, which ruled how border-to-border relations between the two states were covered, especially when it comes to bars and their music and all that goes with that. But then the fact that an employee gets locked in a safe and/or another such area and uses their wits to get out of a really bad situation? I guess there has to be an alleged murder involved for the new coverage to then pull away from what is the coolest new toy at Target …
So I waited this long before writing this column, until maybe, just maybe, the fodder of Year’s Eve might yield to the doldrums of January and there would be a followup. That would still be a few more hours, but reporters get schooled to think in terms of deadlines so … What follows is an analysis, if I can use that word, of just what was aired about the death incident itself. And its all been written as a criticism of sorts before, but never seems to take at the higher levels that determine any sort of nuance.
First, the city of Hudson was said to have a population of 14,000. Last I heard we were simply flirting with 10,000, where it had been for a bit, and the greater Hudson area has been listed around 50,000 and still growing, which again, is something the city hasn’t really been seeing. So I don’t know where the 14,000 figure came from, unless its really up to the minute with the Minneapolis transplants. And the online images that are always posted with such pieces, and really show nothing new if at all, because they can be pulled without ever sending a staffer out of the newsroom. They again showed all kinds of shots of the the “Hudson” dike sign, trite as ever, alth0ugh some were summer and some winter, and few if any actually said “file photo” underneath. These area reasons that many Hudsonites don’t really trust the Twin Cities media — or the Star-Observer either — and may view such papers and other news outlets even moreso with outright dislike.
If they really wanted to dredge up something interesting, they could point to Old Dibbo’s Days of bananas for free entry and virtual, before that had a different meaning, Fighting In The Streets, but most of their reporters probably had not been born yet. But some of the tales are still fresh in the minds of local elders, and they know that they frame how people Who Are Experienced view western Wisconsin. They were brought to mind when The Village Inn held a night with Austin Healy for a $10 entry — overpriced — and a buck or so off if you brought, you guessed it, a banana. You can get about 40 of them for a dollar across the way at Kwik Trip, so where goes social distancing when limos-full take full advantage? And that is in the village of North Hudson, not the city of Hudson.
And the local muck-ity-mucks were quick to put on it their own spin, carefully chosen, saying things like “this criminal entity is not normal here,” referring to some of the new local clientele, without giving any real hint on just who these people might be. (See a later post for more on that, as it may be continuing a trend that is not all that new). Yes, you could say that entity might be here if you look at the increased litter by curbs and the doorways of shops in the wrong places, but I didn’t note much change in the occasion bits of vomit you might see there. The stabbings took place outside the Smilin’ Moose, which has had a certain level of rowdiness that the City Fathers tried to quell when they wouldn’t let the place take the actual name of its other franchise-and-connections from Minnesota, which I at the time thought was heavy handed, but now have to hand it too them. There has been too much of the ambulance-call-and-other-type-of-thing there. Just too much general drunkenness, but Covid had seemed to have put a limit to that. (And I will say, The Moose has been much better than other clubs with putting their money where their mouth is as far as mask requirements). Other comments were that trouble of this type can come if there is too high of a celeb rating, and other ways that bad can come from being desirable, such as the hazards these virus days of travel to other states.
I first heard of the death a bit after the fact, as I too have steered away from the downtown, like many locals, to a degree, but then heard it calling for a reunion, socially. And as far as my other hat, reporters don’t know things until others tell them. So I had to ask if the occasionally seen ruckuses had gotten any worse, when I did stop by, in this case at Dick’s Bar. The staffer looked disgusted, hadn’t I heard, and said there had been the death of someone he termed as a homeless person — they can be targeted in any city, but it was not the case this time — then glanced in a given direction up the street and said he didn’t want to talk about such a tragedy, look it up online.
In the news.
One Thing Leads To Another, or not, as people chose to pick and choose, putting out signs and other stuff for either Halloween or elections, but rarely both even though the two were — often jointly — topical. There was the blip, but only the blip, created over Thanksgiving, as even on what became to be called the Black Monday afterward, bars close to the shopping were ordered closed and largely and thusly not open to fill any void from not getting that Most Precious Toy, and we know you went close to typical bar time to try to rectify the situation. And how do and did they cope with this, in this new landscape of staying at home and the stir craziness it breeds — and maybe that is not the only thing who breeds? Why indeed signing in and putting up your Christmas lights and such, usually in the front yards of fairly modest homes, as early as the time when Labor Day passed, to pass the time — and people have been using their cooped up energy for months, devoting it to a whole range of home improvement projects, very often much larger in scope than chance would dictate, and shelling out plenty of money for a contractor and/0r a sub, or just getting their sweat out themselves. So this takes in the trifecta of holidays, and with each that passes there is a vast change in the number of small but largely home, lawn and garden remodeling ads that appear, at times almost a dozen, with new ones always popping up, at the intersection of Sommers and Sixth. I Don’t Know Why. But I do know, what about New Years …
If I only can hold out a few more minutes … That’s the timetable set by my elections editor with Associated Press, where their version of overtime pay kicks in — 1 a.m. Still, not a bad work day, since the polls did not close until 8 p.m. or possibly a bit thereafter, depending on who you talk to. So thanks to her fielding several phone calls on, uhm, what was that 800 call center number again, I was able to hustle from my main hustle to my side hustle with UPI — oh oh, did I violate my agreement of not also working for the competition, and double dipping when it comes down to double candidates? OK, just kidding and by the way, does UPI still exist, at least here in the States? Maybe have to throw my hat in the ring with Reuters! After All, I’m For All I Can Get, If You Know What I Mean, and this worker-bee attitude can even be seen on the aforementioned and allegedly eighth continent, all of which just might be what Trump called the eighth wonder of the world — FoxConn. Does that number include the Trojan Horse?
— Eddie Van Halen is in the news, as referenced above, for having passed on. One of his favorite emulaties, (is that a word, and I’m sorry, it is now), is the oft-mentioned Jeff Loven, the biggest, baddest one-man-band-in-town, OK the entire Twin Cities. He will get his first chance to display his likewise, often two-handed and lightning speed guitar skills in Hudson on Sunday night at Dick’s Bar. Front and center is likely to be his take on Eruption, I say take because he will typically add a fill or two, maybe via the whammy bar. Hey that’s what happens when a guitar shredder is stuck at home with the family for a couple or three months! And he is now back in fine form, so you be the judge.
Loven even won a contest, from similar guitar god Steve Via, back in his days when playing with the speed metal outfit Obsession back in the 1980s, and at that time posed and did a few licks with Van Halen himself. The photo of the two showed Loven rather Elf-like with his long hair, and was reminiscent of the late Ronnie James Dio in stature, by just a bit from when the two shared many a concert stage — and see the comparison extended when Loven recorded his Heavy Metal Polka at a bar east of Hudson a number of years back. For his part in the photo, Van Halen was looking much more like Van Damme then himself in later pix after cancer, sadly, prompted his death. He’d come a long way, well past when his band was dubbed Van Hagar, as was again noted by one of my friends the other night, and since racist comments about his mixed ancestry — partly Dutch — plagued him in early years. That would never have bothered my wife, who would often join me in dancing when the mega-hit Jump was played when we were at an event.
And I’m sorry to say, all this long-before-its-time-death reminds one on this side of the river about its now a few year’s old death by plane crash, taking a North Hudson pilot and also including some youngsters, in much the same manner and number, and age of the victims and the time of year, as the late Kobe Bryant. RIP to all.
You can’t make this shit up! So I will simply comment on the news and Trump it, and refer you to the hard core metal band Testament, the bastions of Good as they now are, and their latest Prophetic release, (and who says Hollywood, loosely speak, is not the real truth — note no question mark):
In order, as the Non-Rich understand these days in their social media:
— Showtime has delayed the erring, (or in their vernacular airing), of a “clash” broadcast that could, conceivably, if that is even now possible, air pro-Trump content via a debate. Clash? Listen to me sing the more astute punk rock version on Any Given Sunday, as Dick’s via Jeff Loven, as the source of new debate.
— Twitter has barred those who tell what we all are thinking, (again statute version). Look a few posts down and you will get what I mean. Dead Donald? Could be AT LEAST A LITTLE BIT WORSE, (attorneys insisted on all caps as a backup to the truth), as a Twit would say if British and Monty Python — when that’s your source of quality info, it’s hell to pay. And the source of this info? Allegedly (again covering my massive butt), Chinese propaganda was at tell, and at least that’s not the Russians.
— What if Trump would die, and I am sorry to say that it would indeed bother me greatly, we would then get Pence, at least for the time, but would that be more ala Six-Pence? A meaner than I commentator on social media noted that Melania could “remarry” Pence, as he might be young enough to Get It Up. Donald would have to cite his sources before going to His Reward.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE A DICK ABOUT THIS. I’m mouthing this stuff because I care about this country more than I care about wealth, and that’s rare. Information is a good thing, and the truth will rise to the top. (Check out the archives for the classic, Social Contract). So check out the single by Testament, that came out a few months ago, right when the virus fully took hold, called False Prophet, and they turned out to be the real prophet. It’s trademark line: “When you were reaching out for your God, was he there?” And again, note the upper case G. We could all learn something from such music, and it’s referred to right and left on this web site. Memo to Trump before he goes to meet his maker. Can we talk?