There could be a party brewing after the music and mutts (OK, they actually are pedigree). Are they really tapping the kegger at 3 a.m., or much earlier in the evening or day, as Jeff Loven would say?

Are they really sporting kegs of various sizes all weekend locally?
— Annual Midwest championship sheepdog trials are going on all day Aug. 30-Sept. 2 at Badlands recreation center east of Hudson. But sadly, not with a St. Bernard and the accompanying libations they carry around their neck, as those might be more applicable during the snows of January.
— Musician Mark Kreger just crashed the kegger party on the patio at the Smilin Moose early Friday evening. Just kidding, as he’s actually playing to the crowd there.

— With Ziggy’s hosting the Candy Store (or Shoppe) for Saturday night music, one must recall Candy-O as well as I Like Candy. A band like that needs more than one name.
— Is less really more? Pura Still spiked blackberry water boasts that it has only 90 calories, a gram of sugar, and they insist zero bubbles (this does not go as far as offering champagne), without the flat taste. Try it at Dick’s Bar and Grill, to be a minimalist.
— Various places around town are inviting you to dive in, as the summer wanes, and indulge in a Deep Eddy vodka drink, fittingly making people look at their sign with the bathing beauty on a diving board. But being column distilled in small batches, you’d better hurry before fall comes. (Especially since they now have seven different flavors being hawked).

Share the Post:

Related Posts

A hodgepodge listing of everything that’s truly different but maybe baked porage follows, and we’re not talking about a connect-the-dots or puzzle-pieces contest or one on Trump’s foreign policy, haha, rather what I saw and what will be seen around town in recent times. Mostly, one of each. Think you have the world’s, or more likely local church’s, best grilled cheese sandwich, (coming from the land of, specifically, well curded and curdled milk and honey?) Fry it to the test on Saturday. No this is not an autumn chili cookoff, or char the best burger, or even a poker run...
Music in the trees? It conjures up images of a poet wearing millenniums-ago robe and sandals while playing a lute and propped onto the fourth fork of a bigger-than-usual apple tree and doing a balancing act on his ass while he sings a soliloquy or a soffit. Maybe taking a bite in-between verses, to match what listeners chomped on if they hauled it in down long nature paths, making for dinner and a show with duos and trios, and one huge and elaborate band. Well didn’t quite get that lute-ist. Or a bassist so high on life and so-forth stoned...
Questions everywhere? These days, how do you dismiss an ad or a politician, or whoever or whatever pops up and occupies your computer screen, or mailbox, electronic or otherwise? And did that answer in the form of a package or letter or even air waves — coming from a pol or a pool? — ever actually arrive, like all those ads and flyers? Maybe it never will? And surely not written with a quill. As one friend just reminded me, it all starts with one problem leading into another set of problems. Or, like a volcano boiling and brewing and...
Hey today they threw it all back to you, as it is election day, and with it the last Badger gasp — if least if they’re our candidates — (is that the throaty noise they make?), with a soar-throated, campaign-trail rasp made by an audio-version plethora of last-minute flyers that fill our boxes with hopes to grasp, so we can check their boxes when we go to the polls and pick a (partial) winner to move on to full November midterms. Less then the Trump-triumphed manhandling our mailboxes got however, in the last election of this type. Those worn, creaking...
Scroll to Top