Read Our Blog
- Full metal jacket? Hey, I wasn’t exactly to the point of going Rob Halford. But tastes aside, there must be some reason why after 26 years I was shunned, like going Bob Daisley by Ozzy at his reunion? OK, I know, my style may not have fit with the packed crowd. And the last couple of times for this, I tried to do too much with ad-libbing. So yeah, I get that this time around, I was the somewhat unusual choice to be the one left off the set list, with singers clamoring to get up there. But seriously, just being analytical of strengths and weaknesses as a singer here, no hard feelings. I’m not Dio. (Or Traveling Wilburys, an inside joke.)
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...
- Songs by Napalm Death? A fire swept down my very street today, where the babies were burned. (But alas, a new A/C unit is on its way up the freeway.) The Stones did not leave these themes unturned, either, or should I say unrolled. Oh wait, this all was my cooker of an apartment, and we are not talking the kitchen. But all these matters will become more pressing, a pressure point, as the new normal especially in southern climes is temp well into the triple digits. It is these people, the third world, and their heat stroke not mine, that most concern me. (Another example of hellfire temps just added. Sin after Sin.)
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...
- I had a dream … And out of it (re)sprouted an ancient spring fertility rite to save the world, or at least my apartment building, or at least my second story window, from a giant lizard peering in, out at T-Rex days of yore. This ritual requires copious amounts of consumption and goes from there to hobbits and lords who are not yet a-leaping, for reasons to be retold in this fanciful, twisted tale (of fiction?) Just watch the use of Why! The letter, that is. And try to catch on to the inside jokes. (Psst. Another tale inside. Or two.)
This is a truly awfuI, twisted tale of villains and heroes, powerful ale if used carefully, giant beasties and smaller hobbyts, but also renewal and redemption. I will ascrybe to an ancient rytual, back to when the tyme gyant lyzyrds peered into second story wyndows of apartment byldings and no amount of walls could keep them out of such urban non-placated places, save this practice that annually, about this tyme of three-day holiday, would save humanity for another year. So in this spryng fertility ryte, go consume copious quantities of hunhy grhym cr’krz and jinjer biyr, deprived of its alcohol as worshippers need to be sober-headed...
- And musings moreover —– A full list of the trios of triumph. The power of threes. A full dozen of these triads, oh make that 13 as we linger, that you will see listed as shopping promptings in three long blocks of store windows of downtown Hudson. Three’s company? Get it? Third time’s the charm. And this is a truism, the words, some of them three letters, chosen to depict their offerings show the diversity of, dare I say it, a Super WalMart.
Here goes the ultimate list of lingo, even if it languishes, in no particular long order, as we go at length into the different kinds of businesses you will find in this locale, starting the list and at its last, two of the many art galleries in our downtown: — Feminist power, love and generosity, and to double your fun, framing, art tchotchkes and earrings, all at the biggest little art and collectables gallery you will see mid-block. — Community, commerce and tourism, touted at the Hudson Area Chamber of Commerce and Tourism Bureau, in a blatant suck up to...
- And musings moreover —– To skate or not to skate? Not on most Hudson streets and sidewalks, you don’t. Even though most users I’ve encountered have been courteous and safe — saying ‘on right’ as they go by on a fairly busy sidewalk, and not just barely edging past you — the city council in essance banned the usage last fall. I think this goes too far in what amounts to dare I say it, big brother-type stringency. I prefer a more ‘urban’ style ambiance, with a Twin Cities type of bustle. (For what of that is to be found, come Friday, ‘jump’ inside. That post now updated, for more weekend options.) I now start with a joke.
As far as, for starters, the old announcement, “passing on the right,” this was said to me just now by a beautifully tanked woman in a bikini, owning the downtown sidewalk. She was slightly gasping and moaning as she almost carressed my side going by. I ABSOLUTELY REFUSE to read anything into that … Spring has past sprung, we’ve finally had some really hotter weather, and a young man’s heart turns to thoughts of … e-cycling and skateboarders going past. In the last couple of weeks, you can see them again all around our sidewalks and byways, busy and not...
- And musings moreover —– Shoes and shirt are welcome, to be purchased along with other keepsakes at a new shop or worn in. At least soon while dining at new downtown Hudson eating opps. You don’t need an app, read on, as doors are flipped open … There are still other options and opportunities, after the Wild opted out as flipping goalies, with Filip, only worked for so long. (Not so big shoes to fill. Just flip-flops. See below and under The Headliner for posts on such sports bar shenanigans.) So for now, in a new post, we Rally In The Valley, with eight bands.
A door on the side of a downtown conglomerate of stores, the front not back door, has a sign telling delivery drivers to deposit items in back — but the sign is flipped upside down since the tape slipped. A blipped language I don’t speak. But that’s not the only thing that’s flipped in the downtown. Lots of stores are either open as we speak, or will be soon. We’re talking still in May, maybe, and mostly earlier than later. While we wait with baited breath for the full opening of Max’s Social House. And a pub or another hub...
- And Musings moreover —– Nothing says Mother’s Day Beauty like a concrete culvert on the edge of your small yard, blocking the view of the flowers, as they start to bloom. To serve you better by (finally) getting at that drainage problem, and giving you instead, from your fave rocker, a whole buncha gray to look at, not RWB. But you can’t fight either city hall, or a utility company, or both. Basically buckthorn, either.
An elderly mom got an early Mother’s Day gift, courtesy of three entities who gave: Her a condo made-a stone-a, AT&T and a muddy spring. All combined to take her request for a properly drained stretch of slight ponding, a size of a grown corn stalk and about 30 feet long, between her walkout patio and the edge of the condo association land, where she has planted a few small sets of flowers at which to gaze as she passes away the last of her days, which one hopes are still many and not spent in a daze. The whole...
- The Aves and the have nots. The fans cried foul, over too many goals and too few penalties. Putting a man in that box, so he could not fill the net, would help the Wild aplenty. (However wait, the Wild have now flipped it in game three by making a statement. But now their backs are up against the wall.) But spring temps hopefully will hold, and Saturday’s game three and its outdoor watch party held at home will hasten how soon we forget the Colorado debacle, and make it more like Dallas. Recently it’s been viewing from inside the sports bar the away games and in-arena ice of Colorado, amidst our own tundra and its just frozen flowers. Must suck also to be a retail manager and having to decide how many potted ones to put out.
The Wild in their series with The Aves, have generated more cuss words then goals — although there have been quite a few of those too — from those fans watching in Hudson sports bars. Nine and Five scored by the foes make Fourteen, and hey that could be a song title, although a little long — like all the remote slapshots the Wild has been accused of taking. Maybe less of a bust for beer sales. Shit, my team is falling behind further, so yes, I’ll take another. The nets are burning from pucks ripping through, just like your...
- Earth Day? Spring warming up, or more cold? To change it up, spring training delivers a fastball? Or chill out, go officially fishing, although you might strike out? Or chill on the links with our Lynx, the most vital local pro sports team, as they advance to that dreaded Dallas, now land of the Stars and not that north kind. Our mom rules. Does she profit from cards, and go fish, though not poker face? For a few days, the sequence of events, one following another, then soon following another, dominates out calendar’s agendas. And my rambling writing, (which includes siding with Cinco.)
Earth Day came and evening went, the first trial. Our earth is still spinning. Spring also has unsprung, the second day. Flowers but also buckthorn grow. Renewal commences. May Day has passed into the past, the third trial. But regimes still falter and fall. And we harken to it, despite the prospect of potentially going fishless, on this differs-by-state opener. It was cold, to boot. Do trout like such water? They did on one side of the boat in Jesus’ time. — This is not the walleye they are known for, but otherwise the pick of the litter, for Cinco...
- Iron Trump? Bring the frump? Or dump? Bump it up and do The Humpty Hump? Here is yet another song of a generation, yet another parody of Iron Man by Black Sabbath, (it might help to go through the original lyrics first), and it is Ozzy approved as he is one of our children of the grave, and as so is one of the allegedly foggy ones, (no I would not allege that!!)
This is my ode to a couple of old Geezers, as in Butler who wrote words like no other, and like the Foggy Geezer beer often on special, over at Casanova Historic Liquors in Hudson. In the style of Iron Man, by Black Sabbath Iron Trump Lyrics by Joe Winter Riffs by Tony He Owes Me? I am rustic man … I have a rusty plan … Has mad mind lost its way Dull forked tongue or things to say Bomb, make Iran pay Before leaving office or he’ll stay Mine is the Master Plan So mine the straits fast...
- I shot at the Prez, riff to follow. That riff created a last ruckus of a row of roundball, even if just for an inbounds pass — once they sorted it out at midcourt, but only first after they had sorted it out with sports bartenders having little difficulty transferring from game host ABC, who trumped it, to affiliate network ESPN, for the last quarter and ticks of a clock.
The Wolves ran away with another one in their first postseason series, ratcheting up a third win in their fourth game, but it was not without flareups that literally stopped the clock, temporarily, as seen at two different Hudson sports bars. First, it was near the end of the third quarter and the T-Wolves had built a lead by a bit more than a three, which they would extend to several groups of cheering fans by the time there was a second or two left, and that would quickly become the problem. The game with Denver was on ABC/ESPN, and...
- Pristine Boundary waters may now be tainted but not your CBD. And the alleged villian is Chilean, not Mexican or Venezualian. And the village ‘repossessed’ your garbage can and made you buy an officially approved new one. Welcome to 4-20 and Earth Day, circa 2026. And Mary Jane is now declassified by Trump for purposes of ‘study.’ This is not the Obama or Biden administration.
Social media commentators at all levels and news media alike are — just in time for Earth Day — mining the latest Boundary Waters area news with headlines about the latest rollback of Obama and Biden era environmental protections to pristine water quality for what can, legally, be done with potentially destructive commerce in that region, passing the Minnesota legislature by the narrowest of margins. The reactions have ranged from who cares, to asking if our legislators do care, about the plan to mine metals, backed by a Chilean corporate giant, whose name sounds like a death metal band, and...
Filter By Category
Filter By Archives