As far as (newly seasonal) things to do, there will be enough sand to be kicked in the faces of dozens of 90-pound weaklings — OK, there are no such wimpy people around the stellar Hudson nightlife scene — as Dick’s Bar and Grill pours its middle room dance area full of the grit for its annual beach party. Other places do this too, but this in the first one so far this season to celebrate the (eventual) coming of spring. That warm weather has made its initial appearance really late this year, so as far as dress choices you won’t have to worry about getting sand in your bikini.

The party is Saturday night, April 26, although the sand will be poured-in such as through the proverbial hourglass much earlier than the beginning of the dancing. The mountains of the stuff were scheduled to be moved in starting at 8 a.m., according to the flyers all over Dick’s.

The New Skinny kicks things off by performing with a 7 p.m. start, and there is a shift in the sands, with deejay dancing after that time, all the way until close.

Another band, this one new to the local scene but sure to be in the mix in the future at the Smilin’ Moose, was Junk ‘Em on Friday night, which as a highlight brought a young woman on stage to sing part of a pop-punk verse, only to have her tell the frontman that her name is Simply Awesome, a pronouncement that he said he didn’t dispute, but still said he had trouble believing. Incidentally, that  frontman looked a lot like Kid Rock, (think the early years with the hat like worn on album covers).

The band was loud and could be heard well up the street, but not nearly far enough so to drown out an even louder performance, that by a midnight fire truck with sirens wailing as it went through the Locust Street intersection. It’s worth mentioning that on the street on the Moose opening weekend, in the lone parking stall in front of the bank, some people from the Twin Cities arrived driving a Bentley said to go for about $270K.

One more snippet to serve as a mini-music review, of a solo act that continues to recur locally, especially at Guv’s Place in Houlton, found that an unusually talkative Kyle Kohila was adding additional flourishes to a non-electric version of the guitar solo to Free Bird that was long enough to close out the evening. He also threw in some quick staccato, same-note picking at times.

One last note on the bartender Andrea wedding of the century from earlier in the month — OK she’s not that old — people are probably now sobered up from the experience, which featured overnight stays in nearby motels just to be safe. One of the patrons reportedly lost his shoes on the six-block walk to get to his room, and there’s no word yet as to whether he ever found them again. We can report that Andrea, who is always in demand for singing the National Anthem at pro sports events, did sing at her own wedding — she hooked up to do that with  one-man-band guy Jeff Loven, before hooking up with her new husband a little while later. (A note on the sly, I actually had a dream a couple of nights earlier about the two of them checking into the motel at the front desk).

Share the Post:

Related Posts

My mom has told me not to be a potty mouth when I write, as she certainly would not appreciate hardly any of the standup humor on say, Comedy Central Radio. SNL maybe. But after 11:30 p.m. … But there comes a time where a man must make a stand. And for this jokester, it was now when he had to choose whether to pass on the opportunity that would otherwise bite him in the butt, for in front of and behind him is the Mother Lode. Or should I say load. Or “Mothers” of Invention. Heh heh, heh heh, Butthead, look...
So the wall is down. Of letters, that is. Not down by Mexico. Cemented into the concrete. Of the Kennedy Center. Where music has sat. (Near where a now defunct wrestling arena rusts in peace. Or a bloodied White House lawn. With leftover paper cups and plates, more likely bowls and small utensils, anyone?) Or more ornate than inside? A tarp the size of Pennsylvania, the predominant battle state, covers workers as they chip. So geez, how big are the letters? Four times 50 living workers high? But now none remain, or so we are told by flunkies. Or is...
A few years back, I wrote an article about Hudson Deacon Tom Kroll and how he did so many extra dutiful tasks, his living out the Gospels tirelessly, when his wife was ill, in addition to his regular job. I was inspired at the time to pen this, about my own lovely, disabled wife — we were separated briefly but now back together with our 40th anniversary this month, as wholehearted caregiving has many strains — and how an atypical view of standard roles, out of necessity, made things work, as far as our approach to work and home that’s...
What do fishing, maybe in the dark, thus a Texas ranch, snakes of various types and do they come or stay out after dusk, eating either and only fine food or snacks, and a game of cards — likely just one each — have in common. And no strippers or Chippendales. And an only half or quarter, not full Monty. (Who is Monty anyway?) Or cowboy or cowgirl hats. Although there was some dress-up. More Barbie than boots on, I think. It’s an easy answer, connected and conflicting, but not in all or dirty ways, bachelor and bachelorette parties. One of each...
It was clear to me at the most recent Jeff Loven music show in Hudson, for Memorial Day weekend, that there has been a changing of the guard. The sword has been passed. New blood, like Yungblud, has been brought in. And, I must say, loyalty — amongst the devotees who travel frequently and all across the two-state area to virtually all of Jeff’s shows — has been rewarded. They are the royalty, in what just makes good business sense that I can appreciate. In a significant but not unprecedented altering of course, I was not one of those asked...
Trial by fire. My broiling heart in my efficiency flat still beats a bit, in concern over those boiling over in worse apartments in a Chicago tenancy, or on an ocean island instantly-burn-your-feet beach or dessert, or forced to endure ice baths just to keep cool — or simply be offered no way to maintain an ice-dripping body other than also read a non-cookbook at the library, or select not a big steak you can’t afford but a 73/27 burger from a freezer and slap it on your forehead. Just not too hard. All these things are ones where you especially today either burn or...
Scroll to Top