Last Wednesday night was (bar) hopping to boil it down to basics, but like a partly waddling turkey rather than a fast wabbit, and the actual Thanksgiving Day into night was the opposite in the downtown taverns, bringing low attendance. The rest of the weekend, too, was ho-hum and bah humbug, as we can guess the newest strain of Covid has let us out in the cold. ‘God bless us each and everyone of us.’

Could the second virus resurgence, or more, be keeping “men who hath understanding” out of their favorite watering holes again? One night mostly on, then three off.
Could the proverbial Busiest Bar Night Of The Year, now still keep a legacy of force, but be moved elsewhere in the year’s top 10 of eves as fast as a college football team that misses a few too many field goals?
The skinny: That Wednesday night was busy but nothing to keep too many of you from being late for mom’s trademark turkey come the opening whistle of Thanksgiving football, The holiday eve was a total turkey as far as attendance with the possible exception of a few people shooting pool at Hudson Tap and throwing darts at Dick’s Bar, and the weekend was very lifeless and nowhere near shoulder to shoulder but for The Smilin’ Moose and Agave Kitchen.
Here’s a blow by blow of the beer by beer.

— But first in Uncatagorized, the patron face from about a year ago, when who was where first became a topic —

After giving thanks for tips, Da Man was taking garbage out to the dumpster just before midnight on the holiday, as the music club was closed — both upper and lower levels, at the Hudson Ziggy’s. But what about that usually infamous night before: “It was decent.”
Ditto and more at Hudson Tap. “Pretty crazy. This is the second biggest bar night of the year.”
But were all the out-of-towners back in? Yeah, the bartender said, but with a shrug. This could be read that The Tap now has a whole new series of townies, to use a term, exclusive mostly to them. The old-school stalwarts mostly go elsewhere in town.
And of course, at Dick’s, via a longtime bouncer. “Pretty busy. It’s another night.” That commentary was given on a very slow Thursday, concerning Wednesday.
Again, underwhelming? As it was a ghost town there, again, on later nights. And in particular, on Saturday, The Smilin’ Moose was the only venue with any people, and even they were at a bit less than their usual capacity in situations such as this.
What did the doorman say at Ziggy’s, you know the one positioned between the downstairs bar-rail (free admission) and the upper-level club (cover charge of at least $5). Not on this slow weekend band night. Hey I’ll let you go up for free. Seriously. Are you sure you won’t? Maybe ask the security guy taking IDs, you know the one dressed up like a ninja over Halloween?
But this was later and colder. No matter.
You know they are Twin Citians by … their navels? And the fact that locals, by day, at least had on a T-shirt, OK with collar, and real short-shorts. But by midnight, you could see ones such as thus: A basically bisected navel and nothing but skin going upward to the sports bra. And no jacket, leather or otherwise, to speak of while moving northward. That has led on such occasions to the warmth of a stogie and things that follow taking full force, rather than the weather, as guys could be seen puffing away on chairs set-up outside the sidewalk by Hudson Cigar, simply taking it all in.
On Thanksgiving, typically an operative night, The Smilin’ Moose door sign said open until close, but it was shut down at the point where one day turned into another. And the Starr’s Bar door sign, over in North Hudson, announced early in their typical holiday fashion that they would be done for the day, as they never opened. The only sign on the door of The Mallalieu Inn was the back of a guest check receipt, fittingly, and the only heads up it yielded is that once it reopened the next day, this was a cash-only bar. (For more on the mayhem of hours, view the Where Did You See It department).
The Tap was there for that and more, as it had its front door open a crack, as if to beckon, late on multiple nights.
Apparently some places, though checkered, did not beckon enough, as BWW was about as packed as it gets these days for the the Gopher-Badger game, until I got the ax — OK my ride had arrived. He later said that it was much the same downtown for Packer football, on a different day. But as we left we saw a single pine tree on an SUV roof, and there would be none other in All The Adjoining As Close As Hudson Gets To Big Box Stores Parking Lots.
A take on why all this is …
Becoming passive about going out might be with us again.
Online articles indicate that those “pros” who are very socially adept at interaction at bars, and believe it or not suffer no fools, can be a bit less tolerant of things as they now are — especially since the new situation finds even the best of those social high-climbers rusty at the game. It may even be at a subconscious level, where the last-minute situation to actually get out the door is, to use a word, impaired. Or regulars are very picky about when they will or will not go out. They thus can be more easily be sidetracked even on the primo nights of the year.
Even when things do open again, one fulfilling night may lead into a decision not to go out on the next two — thwarting one of those few times a year when you normally would be looking forward to seeing all those people you normally might not. Or just hit the one hot spot of the moment, even if that flies in the face of social distancing, and not roam elsewhere after that.

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