All Our Times Have Come: OK not all, but anybody who wanted to find out more about the long-promised Half-St. Patrick’s Day ditty, whose celebration is again, not lost but only postponed, here is the experience that will make you not green on being informed

(Sorry if the leprechaun got into my line spacing tool, as he is such a tool and just will not quit messing with me and my computer, although in fairness, I mess with him as well — but the Irish League To Establish No More Reason To Diss Us is on his small back).

As I’ve written, there comes a day when its halfway back to when St. Patrick’s Day occurred and halfway forward to when it comes around again. This continuation of a celebration dubbed the Half-St. Patrick’s Day has been recognized each year at
Paddy Ryan’s Irish Pub until this March when the virus marched in, sending forth a range of actions that resulted in the holiday not being given its usual name six-months in, but the same great by all accounts food and drink can still be obtained as
such if you, again, can keep your Irish down enough to wait until Monday. No such restriction at Dick’s Bar and Grill, which historically has offered a monthly special on certain Irish drinks on the Seventeenth, and hey the Irish have waited so long, just
like certain recent Notre Dame sports teams, so what is a day or two beyond the three-day-weekend they have concocted with their ire since … March and they still have had long to wait, until now. While the prices on the Dick’s special, which always
seemed to fall on a Tuesday, are not specifically seen this year, the chance to savor those drinks still is, meaning there just might be leprechauns on both ends of town, and I swear I saw a real one ambling up Locust Street, and defined by his bright
green attire and stature. And there were some boots to bantie about with going the other direction, their darker shade making for the look of a banshee, and big-extended toe shoes for those with a bit of a fetish. Add to it cleavage and leggy maximizers,
since skin now has been in during this shortened season, as well as the cool thingees (is that an Irish word?) that is stuffed into their possibly colored and curled hair, and topped off by the pixie-like rubber band some used to straighten locks on either
side of the upper head.
Which maybe why we, on the north end, still have an Irish greeting sign of a string of three shamrocks, (most have a full four pedals, not three, in what has been an aberation worth noting while guzzling a Guinness). And further north at the new Kwik
Trip, there were not only sprinkles and spurts of tiny foil that could serve as part of a St. Patrick’s Day present, but those beastie-fueled-jokes that continued well into summer were about the legendary little men and what could be thought of as a green
mafia.Why did I always forget my rewards card? Well my, it was that hostile leprechaun who pried it out of my hands while at the pump, trickling in earth friendly gasoline. But there was hope, I said to a burst of laugher, as the Leprechaun Oversight
Committee on Monetary Affairs put the little man on extended probation. But on appeal, he blamed it on other little green men and was left go, meaning he’d continue to peal away the edges of my card until it looked like that two-pound sauerkraut
special at County Market and could pass it off as such to make that purchase. And licensure? He found that anything over $3.99 and/or 32 ounce size would require notarization from the man at the end of the Pot Of Gold, ‘cuz how do you think he
accumulated all that, and thusly had just enough moxie to be a grand marshal of sorts at an area parade. Oh, I met him across the bar at the Shamrock Club in New Richmond on the night right before the Day the parades were struck down like a
subpeona for a president, and even their equivalent in England. What is and what should never be, the man was optomistic but guarded, even with stories of yore, saying to check with the morning bartender. That ended up being too late.

<<The parade cancelizations, blow by blow>>

Come the Friday before the Irish At All Costs Day, I was still in contact with the publisher at the Irish Gazette out of the Twin Cities, as axing parades was at hand, possibly. Western Wisconsin club owners were taking their lead from the places WAY
across the river, but then that ax fell and it was not pretty. On the morning of the parade demise, quite early, the hammer dropped. Right before that, I was talking to another applicable bar owner/manager/pourer while of all things waiting for my wife to
be treated at Regions at the ER for the Anti-Irish-Observance Illness — OK that’s not why she was in — and the guy was grumpy and a bit frazzled, and said to call him back in 20 minutes, as he wanted the phone open for possible bad news. Meanwhile,
Nurse Ratched was in toe all the while, saying to take that and any other calls that day in the lobby. Of course I was obstructed in my walk to get there by some other nurses of the same cloth, so I ended up in the smallest waiting room I had ever seen
several doors away from my wife, waiting for the clock to tick tock to that position, and actually saying to the one woman who managed to squeeze in late in that wait, good luck with your emergency, Irish related or not. Needed to walk a bit here and
frow, but then the call went through for the second time. Within the half-hour, parades that were scheduled in New Richmond and River Falls were scuttled, and once the noon hour passed, with it went the last gasp for a last parade in our extension of
The Cities, the man in Roberts said while trying to make a last call, to consult with others in what forms a triangle in St. Croix County. Maybe it was said, the bagpipe players and their ilk would still be roaming the sidewalks in New Richmond, but it was
unclear if it fell through too. There was the Irish band at the Shamrock club that was stifled after a few flurries of notes, and would have been the last music act to go forward that day. The only trace was in ads, shown conspicuously in green, where
everything from soda (Sprite and Dew), home and lawn improvement (damn good grass everywhere for early season), and every imagineable way to insert (lame?) lime colors in the background, even if limes were the special being hawked. And among
the obligatory posting of cloverleafs, there were even farm implements such as — you guessed it — John Deere being discounted at a jolly good price. One more thing that made it into publication, as the schedule for the printing industry cannot be
betwixted for more than a bite of corned beef cabbage, were some ads in the local shopper, think a quarter page, advertising the parades that never were as if they were still going on. .
And the costumed singing witch/leprachaun named Conant — not the first time such accused — did indeed make her way into the free clinic in River Falls despite virus blackouts, and was allowed to perform a one-and-out with no encore of her Irish
ditties — despite that for virtually everyone else there was a lockdown and lockout. But oh, I dallied, as there was one more couple inside that got a front row seat by default, as unfortunately they were (both?) in the process of seeing a doctor for
alleged symptoms or likely would not have been let in.

<<The three wordwise ditties that were supposed to go in the Irish Gazette, but the virus pre-empted them with Stop The Presses>>

The whole New Richmond population explosion, making it one of the fastest growing places in the country because of the new Stillwater bridge, has put on the stamp the expansion of St. Patrick’s Day options here, cancellations from virus rather than
no virus. Now, in addition to what has been one of the biggest noonish holiday parades of this type in Wisconsin, and indeed is billed as among biggest and best anywhere and that befits the Irish and others who can be a bit over the top when their
enthusiasm is engaged, there is a backup and newer bridge-driven lead role via the much bigger than before party at the Wild Badger Bar, with multiple choices that include bands all weekend, (more on that entertainment option elsewhere on these
pages). Also on that Main Street parade route, there are new nightclubs that have opened up, not to mention the existing Irish pubs that have long been the driving force for the St. Patrick’s Day party done in many forms. No Big Box stores have arrived
here though, yet, so to get their mega-cut specials on things like corned beef you’ll have to wait until next year or possibly a bit later, as the arrival of the virus has slowed things that even include such development whether big or small.
HudsonWiNightlife has developed too, as you can surely see, so be jolly (wrong holiday?) and do an Irish jig because you can get the scoop on where to find all these type of food options and exactly what they are and the cheap prices that you can
find right now without having to wait at all, as this is one of those times HudsonWiNightlife is virtually in real time so since this is not typical of our magazine-type format and its necessity to find that killer second day angle so savor like you would that
mostly once-a-year shepherds pie, (note that for once I did not invoke CBC), whether eating in or out, also on these pages so be the consumate and clever consumer in what you consume and check out my community calendar before you shop or dine,
and elsewhere on its many holiday posts find more such sometimes seemingly endless strings of “clever,” as I just used that word, capitalization-or-no/alliteration comedy .
In River Falls, which also has what’s typically huge parade and myriad other St. Patrick’s Day options such as the partially comedic bed races down the main drag, rushing away from the virus and back to the hospital where donated beds are from, as
the holiday is even bigger there than the others that have festivals all during the year, which are numerous locally and like this one not only during the summer, and in what is becoming trend the River Falls Area Chamber of Commerce has pulled out its
longtime sponsorship and substantial funding. It cited the fact that for multiple straight years it has occurred toward the middle of the week over any of its three middle days and the need especially these days to maximize economic benefit to all
businesses, not just bars and restaurants, as people flood in from the Twin Cities, so with this and so many other party-ish festivals you don’t have to (typo before proof-reading as I meant too) be clever like the typo gag to know tourism has become a
lucrative big business in RF even though to many it is as big a best-kept secret as just where that medallion is. This leaves it to just to just those bars, which responded by adding a pub crawl, led by a new sponsor, Shooter’s Bar, a block off the main
drag where the Irish floats go. Right on Main Street is Johnnie’s Bar, which again brings in a Saturday night country band and also adding actual Irish music in a type of act you don’t always see booked elsewhere, although billing itself as the only true
Irish tavern in the area (Paddy Ryan’s is a bit less than a half-hour to the north, just east of Hudson, and are just the right distance away that they might differ). But back to Shooters, the owner by that name is a wee bit gruff in a charming way, and
would make a good Irishman. As pointed out quickly by a bartender at Broz on the other end of the downtown, things really get going earlier, with some Sunday parties that are smaller in scale than things such as the parade, two days before St. Patrick’s
Day.
In Hammond a wee bit down the way in St. Croix County, Schuggy”s, which has two bands every weekend trek in from the Twin Cities, (as even they note is the best kept secret here in this berg with only four bars and this is Wisconsin, mind you), has
by far the biggest live music attendance in western Wisconsin, even though they are a very small town, (they love to point it out that fan base in their photos). They’re at it again in this way in mid-March, but with nothing on St. Patrick’s Day itself
except in-house poker. Not that unusual, but to do it up big on Saturday and Sunday nights with partiers on all sides of the large circular bar rail, far from the stage, and not at all Tuesday, is noteworthy. (I guess the good Irish, typically, can’t wait). The
band is a two-fer, making for two long trips in two days for them but they think it’s worth the now-low gas cost, as longtime local favorite rockers FogPilot takes the stage both nights, as they are there often and are virtually the house band for the bar. It
should be noted that the owner, Trent Schug, who opened up this club a couple of years ago in addition to his nearby and also spacious bar and grill, The Barnboard — good name for a Wisconsin-style, small-town pub — but really closer in to The
Cities as opposed to Hammond, and with his name and its Northern Irish connections, although also of significant historic German significance, he’s close to being all-out-Erin-ethnicity.

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