Easter eggs? Here are the signs.
The word on the marquee at Agave Kitchen says it for the season, as in the message behind the metal lyrics of (fittingly) Dance of Death: There is more to life then is dreamt of in your philosophy. (Depending on what it is).
Agave as in past years, has provided a take for the secular world (not that there’s necessarily anything wrong with that or in them doing that).
First, on Good Friday: “JC did it for you.” (Thought at first that was saying Happy Birthday, but that was a different season). Then two days later, and we know what that is: “He is Risen.” Still up on Easter Monday. Irrespective of where you lie, there is a (greater) truth here that plays out into so, so many other truths, on all sides. (Listening to Slayer — of Pilate? — while I write this. Good stuff, seriously.)
And then the sign that has appeared on the door, all are welcome here including all races, colors, creeds, genders, persuasions, orientations, ages, dogs (only on the patios?), frogs (maybe not the legs as says Ozzy?), and hogs (most likely not unless they’re bikers?)
Down the way, the sign Hoppy to See You, but closed on Easter, as was written for so many places you wouldn’t expect to be open anyway, but Dunn Brothers had open written on their door. And Mallard’s at a whole 9 a.m. for their brunch.
And then calendars: They all had Passover (although one added the word starts), and Easter of course, and Earth Day and even Eid al-Fitr (not sure what that is, but I expect the last two observances are linked). But not on my Alma Mater of Blugold, that being UW-Eau Claire that did have the Athletics Foundation Gift thingee to scan,, but listed on the Shiner Children’s Hospital version are Good Friday and Palm Sunday and even Orthodox Easter.

Has the Ragin’ Cajun returned? Strong drink fuels the desire to take in more tip-top dance routines.
The Cajun Club in Houlton has one of the longest tenures of any exotic dance club in the greater St. Croix County area. But just three words into this post, you can see why Twin Citians sometimes cross(ed) over from Stillwater to partake.
But any number of years back, there was a new trend. A couple of different couples, one duo then the other, took over the reins and both vowed to clean things up a bit. One of them lived in the area and doubled as a karaoke crew at places in their stomping grounds, and the latter of the two were from The Cities, and they did a full remodel of this club that had a (rather dark) decore and such, much like the old Dibbo’s rock club in Hudson.
But the club was in the news recently for liquor license violations, including alleged refilling of bottles of booze. The owners have said they had no knowledge of this, and that it was the doing of a manager that got them all legally stung after the running of a sting of sorts by the ATF, which for some reason seemed to put such an investigation high on their agenda.
I see some contributing factors. The Twin Citian owners were hardly ever onsite day to day, so you could see why they just might not have known, and why this was not as much as you’d think be right under their nose, and they were literally blindsided by the accusations. The venue has typically had managers who lasted longer than most at this post than is typical in the service industry, so a level of trust may have been built. And the bar area had remained fully separate from that where the dancing took place — as you had to walk by a room with pool tables and then through a big and plush curtain before you’d even know the other is there, so it was almost free-standing and possibly leaving room for mischief to be done and be unseen. But inside that huge room, literally a dance hall, added were a bar-rail and more prominent VIP rooms.
All this really hit after a hearing was held in front of the public, and complaints were aired, but in this rich and proper area, no matter how much bouncers managed activity, you’d probably have any number of residents eager to get things off their chest. And again going back years, this was not the first time for such a hearing, but that for another time.

The ears have it. Flying into this pre-Christmas season like now as maybe even a pre-adverted Advent. So we focus not on nosily flared noses, but those pointy things worn aside the head of both bad-haired bosses and Spocks and at times by our fighting materialism with sorta-labor-strike elves. In a place such as the Pole. Unless employed by Amazon.
Yes in downtown Hudson there were shrieks of joy not only from transfixed kids and adults with careful cameras, as they negotiated in their minds their peers posed mostly motionless in the small shopping room windows with only an occasional movement to make their ears and eyes perk up, but those with those lobes held in place as they swirled drinks at Ziggy’s. Yes two of the cocktail waitresses were dressed down to the toes like elves and also up to such flared ears, and in one case even a single sprig of mistletoe, as multiples would be scandalous. And even down to the piano player (more on those who trade off on the keys later) there were strings of multi-colored lights around their necks. This was the aftermath of Halloween with more such oblong ears, also seen on a vivid older woman dressed like a The Doors poster who added she’s only revisiting her childhood — as it was her sister who was the true Woodstock aspiree.
More on that this simple eve before Christmas? A simply named band, many more members than letters, is now doing doors at Dick’s Bar in Hudson, showing the (party) favor of the Lucky Dog and its beer, and also free samples of appetizers and also pudding concoctions.

This just in from my database, admittedly provided by the Russians.
We all have seen are mailboxes getting more and more full of political pointers of the same size and glossiness.
And I am assuming that all you HudsonWiNightlife readers are astute enough to be familiar with the out-of-control-monster even days after Halloween that are “franking” privileges, and we are not talking Frankenstein and his ilk, even though he’s been standing taller and looming larger by the day. Rather, this is about the frankly invasive to our mailboxes stuffing of ads where politicos are offered free mailing rights to tell their constituents via the post office how they are battling such Russians and doing other wonderful things for our populace, with no questions asked like would be the case with an actual press-monitored debate. And there are fewer of these, it seems, and my Associated Press contact way out in California told me that in my neck of the woods there are many cases where their stringer reporters are not being allowed access to polling places!
But there is no free lunch, unless with a lobbyist. Someone has to eventually pay for the extra white cube trucks needed to provide feet on the floor for franking.
So, that stat I promised. It turns out that a full 13 percent or so of the mounting national debt is because of franking privilege abuse. Or so say my sources, and I think they are in the Kremlin. Not sure. But they do add that of that tally, 87 percent is part and parcel of The Obstructionist Party (TOP not GOP), even though they are the ones most likely to say they have the Divine — and they often invoke God — Plan to kick debt to the curb.
More on such God Awful Government (GAG) in the coming days.

Here and thereafter, are the two Saving Graces of those who as far as lack of getting the word out, still gain some ungainly Halloween game.
The Smilin’ Moose in Hudson has a total prize value on Saturday — this holiday-time around on one night only — in quadruple digits. Even the understated has an attraction here, like the white-chalk-rubbed feet/hands (not sure which) and heads on the windows looking out into the night.
And understated as an understatement at The Wild Badger in New Richmond, is the banner that flanks around over the size of three booths, and says/promises this — also a Saturday — will be a Night To Dismember. So take that, with your costume choice. They have a take on it unlike others, where there is a battle of the dueling deejays. Do they both play Thriller?

The Iron What? That was the ending chant, before encores (plural).
So here we go with official Geek Out II to my now back-in-concert Maiden.
And you think there is not prophecy in music? Or just accidental genius?
Back in the day, think 1970s, there was this cool tidbit, or more, that now comes around again.
Recently, the Russians, notate that, got in a spot with their warlike move into Crimea. As in defeated. Because in large part of very Bad Intelligence.
How so, decades ago?
Then there was Maiden and their most popular song, one of their earliest, called The Trooper. It was about a crucially bad move into — Crimea — made by their fellow Brits where they got slaughtered in a long past war with yes, Russia, based on in their end faulty CIA type stuff.
What goes round comes around? History repeats itself?
And if we don’t learn from it … A Maiden sequel over what has been, with their music, a call to prevent having no more music, as in as Morrison said, The End.

Hey, does not Ziggy’s have a place in Stillwater also?
But it the Hudson version where I found that — gasp! — I had forgotten that this weekend was Lumberjack Days in Stillwater. I’d recollected that it was actually in August and had wanted to hit them up for an ad, as they might bite the bullet as this fine website is getting to have more and more traffic. Like Stillwater. And not the Old School band by that name. So give me back my bullets.
But there is a backstory. As always. So back up. And not traffic.
A cool dude and his significant other were sitting at the bar, putting bread in the jar of bartender, since the piano man would not start for another two hours. So minds wandered …
What is the killer Hudson rock fest that is in August. After the proverbial Booster Days and the art and music in the park event in September. We kept on ruminating on that, coming back to it again and again and querying each other like Quora. There was this aspect that we had seen and that, but what was the object in question? We joked — OK I did — that we would remember in our sleep at 3 a.m. and call each other.
I added that as the Twin Cities presence in Hudson nightlife becomes more and more marketable, smaller fests are being added, although they are not promoted as actively and stay under the radar. I thought there was another artsier one coming up next month, but I was told I had another thing coming. Then it all hit us like a divine revelation from above — big overstatement — that this weekend was the killer summer fest that is Lumberjack Days. So we googled. It had not been held, Covid constraints, since 2019 and again, had been off our collective radar.
So all these reasons may have been to blame for our lack of recall. But hey, Stillwater is kind of buttoned up, although PBS plays well there, so here is a thought as to why. In verse.
Apologies if I slightly misquote Chapman and the chaps from Monty Python:
“I’m a lumberjack I’m OK, I work all night and I sleep all day. I like to pick up sailors, dress in women’s clothing and hang out in (Stillwater?) bars.”
Not exactly the Chamber of Commerce fight song. They might fight that.

What with this being the ebb after Good Friday, and still a bit before Easter, I feel compelled to draw in and quarter some — again — heavy metal songs that although timeless about war and the deaths that always follow, in this day and weeks are especially poignant about the ones that always seem to suffer the most, namely the children. This point was made all the more in recent online analysis.
To wit. The Ukraine. And not long before that Afghanistan. Everyone including mere babes fleeing their countries for their very lives. And full war, not just the gloss-over term conflict. That is what goes on in our minds as we struggle with the (war on) humanity of it all. And as you read the next few paragraphs, take into account the boot-to-the-head presence, now relevant again, of the aspect as lyrically named of “atomic fear.”
Did some karaoke at the Wild Badger in New Richmond. The metal on the play list was sparse, but they did have a diamond in the rough. Out of the three songs that are always present, there was the obligatory Run to the Hills — wrongly among other things, “enslaving the young” — but but the other two usually seen standards were for naught. But there was as a real saving grace Two Minutes to Midnight. You could write a whole treatise about this song, but considering the point I’m making, lets cut to the chase (for peace).
“The killer’s breed are the demon seed. The clamor. The fortune. The Pain. Go to war again, blood is freedom’s stain, don’t you pray for my soul anymore. Two minutes to midnight, the hands threaten doom. Two minutes to midnight. To kill the unborn in the womb.” Use of that last term? I’ve thought it would have mixed reception by the prolife crowd — it is obviously not about advocacy of such slaughter — and indeed may have been thrown in there to appeal to the large segment of their audience that is profoundly religious. Or the flip-side, a position taken by some online that is described in the lead of this post. .
So to close out, we refer to the self-proclaimed Masters of Reality in the form of being anti-war, Black Sabbath, and their cutting-to-the-chase classic Children of the Grave. “Will they (not yet old enough to vote and may not ever get there) win the fight for peace or will they disappear?”
Then skip to another standard by the band that’s not actually advocating darkness, but obviously is again even more relevant: “Children of the future, watching empires fall. Free from the final judging, the destruction of all.”
But in the minutes (more than two as I am not that speedy) taken to write this post, (and I will bring more and much deeper analysis in coming times and not the end times), we’ve come nearer to the Easter celebration that we as one pray can bring joy to those of all persuasions, so sorely needed, so let’s end with that part of Children of the Grave that “is a song of hope.”
We as children must hope that love is still alive and must be brave …
Amen. Enjoy your holiday, regardless of what’s its name. Joe.

As spring has sprung, officially, we are now releasing tales from the deep freeze, and a holiday that falls just days before winter fades away, and approaching May Day.
There was that night where temps were below zero, and it was met with a flurry of freeze-prompted signs on bar doorways — not put up in a hurry as there was time — about closing up at least some parts of their business early. Servers could go home before the Fahrenheit drops even more, but judging from the garb, they weren’t too distressed.
Ziggy’s was shut down, for all purposes, before midnight, as the last man not cut was taking out the last of the days garbage over to the dumpster across a small parking lot. Yeah, the weather, he muttered on more than one front.
At Hudson Tap, they approached the situation in the same way that has been seen before, limiting service to just at the bar rail, not tableside in the other three-fourths of the venue. Would like to know what time of day they made the transition. (And in reverse, for the start of March Madness, the place opened hours earlier than usual, at 11 a.m. One of those days was even a weekday.)
At Dick’s Bar there still was one bartender grinning and baring it, with shorts coming thigh-high. (Like a guy I used to know who wore shorts while out and about, even late then the temps are the most outrageous, 12 months out of the year. Did he ever make an exception?)
But also, it was announced, the kitchen was not heating, catching the eye of one of three venues in such straits. And going into the Hudson Public Library, back door only since weather damage that was done even before the snows started flying, the internet was down for a time, and all my friends could not be there too.
But now, we have St. Patrick’s Day and the full houses all around, with the exception of the early dance floor at the Smilin’ Moose. I even got some green beads, one string only, from a young Minnesotan! And at Dick’s there were games offered galore, like at The Tap, including a bar take on piling up wooded blocks like a house of cards, going a full five feet in the air. A woman stumbled by — look out and don’t breath! — to go to a couple of tables set aside for beer pong. She barely made the right angle, to avoid what could have been a disaster of a fall.
We must on the day of the Irish, actually on the Friday that was after, mention New Richmond. One place had a full house for food, especially, but it broke fairly early, although the servers were still on hand. They even ended up, again early, running out of Guinness! At the Wild Badger, the band played on and the place was totally full, and there were many new takes of the typical Irish green and such garb, even a merger of that and red with one woman’s lipstick. Things died down a bit on Saturday, two days after the start of your hangover.

It was the Big Game followed to the day between the first of many Big Date(s).
Yes the Super Bowl was on a Sunday night (with hours of earlier pregame) and on Monday was Valentine’s Day (with we hope nearly that much foreplay).
But this meant you had two holidays, with the grub and all the fixings and also then that special gift for that special someone, to prep and gift for.
And this dichotomy means you might have to do it all in one fell swoop not long before the coin toss. And various stores seemed to pick out just one to highlight in their ad flyers, at the expense of the others as it all started late in the weekend, when the weekly advertisements turn over.
Come the time when the sun was setting on the NFL season with one big bash, some WOMEN were shopping in pairs for V-Day especially. Three such duos were seen an aisle apart, hitting everything from cards and candy to flowers to even necklaces, all part of what was being targeted at Target. Oddly, at that time there was not much festive food to be seen offered as specials, even at the must pass by corners. But that times-two factor was in part why this ended up being a great merchandising event.
Jump to the next day Jonesey’s Local, were there was one, just one couple, celebrating and giving life to the sparseness there. Low-key but then started to swinging around in dance like a waltz with groove and feeling. So much so they even brought in via big smiles a couple of others at the bar, and that made up about 50 percent. Inspiration! Ambled over to Jonesy himself and said what I had been pondering to him, be my Valentine? Nope, dance cards already full.

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It might be fitting that when the Jan. 6 debacle took place, I had to glean what info I could by watching the one TV screen in the ER. I viewed this emergency while in the emergency room with one of my occasional Tourette’s emergencies. I stumbled, literally, onto CNN and Anderson Cooper — who pulled no punches in his analysis — in part because I had no easy-to-use remote to switch to other stations. So enlightened I will be. And after a year, plus a few days I needed to use when it all came back to the fore again, I have stepped back to reflect. But first, on that day of days in Washington …
I called a friend who was concerned about me, and after a quick check-in she said, can you call back later, I’m in the middle of watching the D.C. riots. That was at about suppertime and before Cooper came on, into my room with a gurney and not too much more, so I thought what, there was a rowdy gathering of a few dozen people and someone swung a baseball bat at a cop?
So much more we can now agree. Gee, can I have those meds now?
An image I saw repeated again and again during TV coverage a few days ago, was of a man being crushed in a doorway, that door closing in on his rib cage. Amid the carnage of that footage, I could not tell if he was friend (another rioter) or foe (a cop). Regardless, a question begs, and again beckons for further knowledge: Is there an element of trust, and even that sounds absurd to contemplate, among the rioters to protect their own, or is this just an excuse to act up with potent weapons and reek havoc.
The answer may again come down to the lessons voiced and wielded in music, as there’s is a way that is much more acceptable (at least in some circles, and one size does not fit all here) to get out your pent up aggression.
We now enter the mosh pit. Even in slam dancing the many flying-around participants bash bodies but also look out for one another and try not to take it too far, although when the adrenaline fully kick in … And if the band is too extreme it heads more into the realm of war not love, at least as it is traditionally seen.
The key here is an unspoken yet understood, and held as sacred bond of trust. When body surfing, you do not drop the guy or girl who bashed into your gut too hard a mere guitar solo before. If the singer stage dives, you catch him, even if he hit a foul note in the stanza before. And their politics and philosophies and theologies might not match yours at all, or that of someone else’s fave metal band, but there is an understanding not to diss the other person’s lyrical ideas (instrumental might be another thing). Not always a total camaraderie, but unless they are really at opposite poles, mutual respect. Few people bring mace to a metal concert, even the decked-out-in-black ladies. And there is a very real security presence in case some intervention is needed, but the worst of that is usually silliness gone wild, and only faux violence.
Lastly, I attended as a reporter and listener, at the hallowed halls of the old Dibbo’s, a four-band death metal concert right here in Hudson, as the St. Croix Valley for a number of years running had a scene of that genre that was hard to beat. There is a lot to be said about that night, but for purposes here, note that when slam dancing, participants had a choice and if they stood back a couple of steps it was a signal that they did not want to fully participate, although someone might swing by and try to coax another in what amounts to asking them to dance, non-verbally. Might try a second time but then their wishes were almost always respected. The dance floor, just big enough to accommodate most cover bands, tipped its hat to social distancing, when someone would back up and take a short running start. So there can be injuries — although none that night — to the people who freely choose to be in the pit, not the innocent bystander or listener, like myself, who are left unscathed, and that is how this is different. No officer would have chosen what was to happen to them that night.

Think back to one of the initial forays a few months into social distancing and the new crowd(s) it would attract. As was seen at a sorta bar reopening and mostly just the motley crew from Minnesota. But what goes around comes around, and let me tell you why. Things aren’t that much different now, after a brief loosening of fear in past weeks, but in just the past few days things are worsening up again concerning the virus grip. So That Crowd Remains The Same, somewhat.
The following was a night at Dick’s Bar last fall, as the (brave?) few from The Cities took a chance before they might fall, and get and spread the virus, and parallels to today might be seen.
The entire length of the bar-rail found every seat taken, with a noticeable commonality among all the new customers — and lily white Hudson and its townies is one of few places where this would be even remotely significant, but hey, every good business owner needs to know the base of their clientele. The gist? All were Black.
At the far end of the bar-rail, there were a couple of people Hispanic — another ethnic group you hardly every see in the night scene in Hudson. And shooting darts with a couple of guys who were dressed like they could be from the hood, were two token while females with booty. The back room where people dance was virtually empty.
What’s the difference here, in you are a patron? I for one didn’t feel in any way uncomfortable among the newer crowd, even though many in Hudson have been fearful of any newfound rowdiness. Got into a couple of cool conversations with a couple of cool young guys, and another one middle-aged and from China, but when the subject of music came up, it wasn’t classic rock or country. And the songs played on the jukebox were also far from that vein. So diversity in ethnic heritage also brings diversity in conversation and its topics.

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Dear reader on the topic in the post that’s below on my home page. Here is an answer to your secondary question about where to go where you can milk your drink or two during a Packer game, and not order more, without being frowned upon. If you get to know a favorite bartender well — they usually keep the same game day shifts — and this might mean going to the same place most of the time to the grid contests, they are more than happy to flow with you. Yes, they love their big tippers, but they are even more appreciative of someone who is friendly and courteous, not driven by drink to get rowdy. So they will cut you some slack, and if you simply order a soda — refills are free — they may even comp it once they get to know you and your demeanor. Various bartenders have told me the house makes more money on alcoholic beverages because of the margin, even though soda is basically just sugar water and the cost of the ingredients is almost nothing. But the bartender is mostly concerned about the tips they make, they have no vested interest in alcohol vs. soda except that the refills might have them coming back more frequently. So squeeze in your quick and funny joke when they come around, and they may laugh and shoot another one back your way. A suggestion I have heard from a DUI lawyer: If you stay for the doubleheader game also, or even Sunday evening football, pass a five-spot their way as a tip, and covering all else, and have them refresh your soda for the duration. (And no, the refreshing of drink does not suggest they follow that strip club approach where the drinks are expensive and mandatory). Some people even take this to another level, where they will throw out a very high tip to the server as seed money to get that next drink or two comped. The success of that approach has diminished during these tough economic times, for the bar as well as you.

This may be the last chance for recreational gas, as it was described in a flyer at one of the local convenience stores, as Labor Day is here and you know what that marks the end of …
And as far as that fuel — get your mind out of the gutter and put it in your gas tank — it could mean anything from gassing up your grill, putting propane in the heater for that next season that is coming, to bumping up the stuff that makes that cool boat run. And the size of that boat could depend on just what Midwest country the gas originated from.
But there is more labor to be pumped on this weekend. It stems from what I’ll call the non-Dirty Dozen. I saw two teenage girls in shorts and T-shirts — you’ll see why I mention that in a moment — carrying signs that had in big red letters a word beginning in C. (I immediately thought Covid, but I could be wrong). I was soon, on a back trip via his highway, to see what it indeed was hawking. Car wash! On one of those last warm days when the dozen or so young ladies who gathered on a different corner and were wearing even a bit less made their bid, it all came clear. For charity. And upon turning on the tube at home, there was a movie by the same name, sort of … The Dirty Dozen! Stars all-around laboring in a different way as Labor Day approached. Save the country, and their lives.
But on Labor Day itself, check out a band that I think just might emulate the late Scottie Danger, blues legend locally. Back in the day, the slap bassist and his new band needed a photog to snap a picture of them looking a bit “danger”-ous for an album cover, so I obliged in a downtown Hudson back alley. Why is this important today, as so many players labor for you, the listener, not to mention hack photographers? A near namesake and likely music-sake and also longtime player, Scottie Miller, brings his act to Muddy Waters in Prescott on Labor Day from 3-7 p.m.

The aforementioned reader, on The Front Page, also chimed in about the fact that my (at times cumbersome to some people?) writing style could use a few more bullet points to break up the reams of copy, and shorter sentences and paragraphs. After all, this is the Twitter generation, and they don’t really care for my “online magazine” treatment. Guilty as charged. But wait a minute, wait a minute!
– I have over time adopted a style of prose that I think is very Hunter Thompson-esqe, the proverbial stream of consciousness, like a double lead guitar that careens back and forth in a creative but out-there way, then pulls it back together before It Stops Making Sense. This was not by design, but I segued into it.
– My long-suffering wife has noted that I will say, Honey I’ll be right up for dinner in a couple of minutes, but then get a few more inspirations to segue into (there’s that word again, so get the picture?) as I write along and it becomes a quarter-hour. This had led to that Ramble On at times, run-ons just described, or just call me a blabbermouth (I think that name has been taken by someone else on-line). And add to the analogy the fact that I indeed do most of the cooking, but I was trying to abbreviate the scenario for a change.
– That whole, here’s another idea, is one reason the stories and sentences and paragraphs spin out into longer form. So bullet points are very useful, except for the fact that One Thing Leads To Another and there is not an obvious break in the thought pattern. I used to use them more, and I’m glad this was pointed out as something of which I need to do more, and it had been on my radar, so kick my butt and I don’t want it to get smacked again. And have you noticed the three bullet points in this discourse? And the ones in another recent post? See I not only write, but kinda, sorta, once in a while read things too!

I had a dream. No, I DED, I DED! Or maybe it was my dad’s dream. You let me know what you think.
In MY such playout of vision, my father stepped into the dreamscape and made a bold playoff prediction on it.
The Tall and Cool and Greek Guy with the (Headdress of Hair?) had scored a final of 40 or more points in two straight NBA Finals games. But he — or someone, or maybe more than one someone — would up the ante, it was dreamed, and toss in 50 points … or maybe a bit more. But wait, it wasn’t necessarily a man. It could have been a woman in the dream, and not that kind of dream, such as in the WNBA All-Star Game that’s on Wednesday night, possibly from my stellar squad of the Minnesota Lynx, even though my father is a great big Bucks fan. (The other M word). And to add more mystery, maybe not even being a pro — are you listening in, my friend Corrin Von Wald of Hudson and that great title run you made with the Minnesota Gophers. (And psst. Hey Buddy. Corrin has occasionally appeared, quite briefly, in one of my dreams too! OK, only very rarely). The shooting guard-turned engineer had averaged about one third-of-the-way to those 50 points, but had her bursts.
But wait, there’s more! Shift to upstate Wisconsin, if I can use that term, away from the Deer District and the Phoenix-based snipers that were dreamed to be in action, poised in surrounding office buildings, to take out deer like they do in fall in upstate Wisconsin (part of this embellishment is such animal payback?) Anyway, I was taken by the dream just south of my hometown Merrill, veering off into a bike lane that went on for miles, teetering this way and that, through thickets and alongside swamps, all the while on slim grass, not dirt path.
Back in the car, it was south to Wausau and a trek to the south end of town for a brand new music club, playing stuff you can’t usually find and that’s not to even touch upon their music videos! Lastly, it is back to the Hudson area, and the snaking of a tributary into the St. Croix, this one down to the bare bones of summer heat and the resulting slimness of any streams of water to be found — down close to actual dirt. This directed me to the two main grocery stores left in town for some actual bottled water. More on that, in real time and reality period, later in these pages.
And also more will come, at some point, on how dreams like this (all joking aside) have a way of deeper and even guiding types of meaning for the souls who can fight through their rampant and complex symbolism — and not aided by Floyd or any fancy stuff. But these themes do come through, intelligently and in great detail, in the lyrics of bands like Deep Purple and Rainbow and Dio, back in the day, to name just three.

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This last May weekend is the killer garage sale times two, (see below), and the local Lions Club sponsors in their doubling-up, and building on the theme, what could make them out as White Lions, as this sale has been around almost as long as that aforementioned Old School band, with the club gaining expertise for selling White Elephants and more that are much beyond cliches. And reaching all along the top and bottom of western St. Croix County with their resume of dozens of stops that go beyond Hudson proper, and one even needed more than a dozen words to list all the clothing they are selling. To the point that all of this requires more than one map as a guide. And as they say, music is a universal language that connects all things, including garage sales. Prominent last night in one of the few musical ironic offerings that can found, for now, Match-Box 20 was featured, and that is exactly the number of years this sale has been going on and garnering experience, for other things too, that include the Lions big September music fest.
As far as my involvement, it only started with the c0ming of the annual April sale referenced above, at Cherry Circle N, but then there also are the even longer-term experts who are Lions who have been around since before some “21 and over” concert-goers had been born, maybe predating the heyday of grunge, and some neighbors who are also rockers. They became known for such singing with Match-Box 20 covers, and have hit this years-going time angle on both sales. (And the Lions sponsored fall music fest that will lead us to the renewal of concerts offerings). So we all know how to make such big-event offerings work. To wit: The Hudson Lions Club has for 20-plus years run their primo event of the year, that being their May 21-22 garage sale (the dates this year). And as far as us, and the fact that we even have a free dry goods offering and recipe hints, at 637 Cherry Circle N, as All My Friends Are Going To Be There Too. And some of what you can find are one-man-band trivia prizes, the Old School Matchbox Car varieties that are referenced above, much like those given a build up in the post below this one, covering Coverdale and Kitaen. To hone this all, through the years of music and the sales all this brings, we might need Mr. Peabody and his stellar machine that spans decades or more. As do the literally thousands of books that can be perused at our place, on almost any topic you can imagine.
And after that, more In The Evening:
They are a couple of young dudes who carry the news and blues, too, when they come on board at Guv’s Place over a still-in-spring cold beer on Friday nights when they are asked, and until then waiting in the wings, like that fiddle player in the (other) band who looks much like Curt Cobain. There was the main man, and his friend Joe, who met up with this Joe on a walk to and from Kwik Trip in North Hudson, and even offered me a beer from his box as we passed in the night/day. Their main love, like so many seek, is the metal, but they are open to other styles, obviously, playing at a noise level that is duet conversation friendly. Check them out, but like Axl Rose, there is no firm guarantee that any of the above will be on stage on any given Friday, having instead to make major moves on this mecca of the “dart floor.”
Then there are the three styles of loaded burgers at Buffalo Wild Wings, (as they are not all about the wing-nut), that take 10-plus words in total beyond the beef to describe their mongo main ingredients, and we are way beyond counting things like pickles. They are stacked much higher than a mound of law-school-students-required-reading-books (and this also includes the recommended chapters nobody ever picks up to give the time of day), and this reference is fitting because so many of their servers are in these studies as their day job.

The reaching out and touching you personally, if only via the mail and we’re talking snail mail not the internet kind, was a big deal in the series of latest elections and was the height of, in some candidates’ cases, what could be seen in the spirit of franking privileges gone out of control. The mailbox got stuffed just as full as the ballot box. And even the ultra-religious types got into the act when inserting their version of the message.

So you as a voter cannot let your guard down. Because They Want You, big finger and beyond pointed thusly. Since slim resources are stretched even further, right at the heart of the much-spoken-in-flyers “fiscal responsibility,” this and you are vital, maybe even a greater on-going priority (tangent alert!) than sending the National Guard Every Which Way But Lose. If you’re stationed in one of the two such Hudson centers that there have been for recruitment and headquartering (I think that is military-speak), you I guess may have needed to either follow the order of Gov. Evers, taking precedence I think,  and go fight wildfires up north as ordered by his emergency decree, or go to the up-north Twin Cities to standby for protest control, as ordered by Gov. Walz. What is a border town soldier to do? I have seen some staffers come out of their center in the Buffalo Wild Wings strip mall quite late in the evening, no doubt putting in extra time and trying to get a manpower handle on such things. For the need for their services is everywhere, and no state is excluded.

(Tangent expires). A lot of this was a huge effort to get out the vote, by both parties mind you, and even all the cable channels going way beyond the old MTV push to get young people to go out and vote — in the many different ways that are largely absentee-based and now available that were not there in the time of our forefathers –  before they could legally patronize a bar. Vote by mail, essentially? Got that. Although exactly where around the “age of majority” ties in, hasn’t necessarily stopped them from partaking in either of those things.

A campaign flyer, still sitting in my write-about-it stack, showed Trump waving to a crowd at a full football stadium, and I don’t know how social distancing fits into the picture. Right around where his big fist is thrust upward, there was what looked to be luxury boxes. Support the Great American comeback? Might ask Joe Montana about them pre-empting his claim to fame if and when he ever gets back to River Falls, in the heart of where this Red State falls, for training along the lines of the seniors circuit. And how doe this get personal as far as a pledging to you, the voter? The lingo of “voting in-person absentee” takes up a full two dozen repeated words, sent straight to you via the U.S. Postal Service. They must think you are important.

So much so they want you, yes you, by special flyer invitation, to grab up some of the “all-new legal tender $2 bills,” with Trump on the cover. I joked earlier that I saw a license plate on what could have been a poor man’s post-bankruptcy limo with the starting letters 4.95, boasting the price you could expect to pay for a glass of champagne While Back There, in today’s economic recovery period. But wait! I then saw another vehicle that wasn’t quite as long, that would be a stretch, with the numbers 3.95. Deflation? So in our time of recovery, you could get a glass of the bubbly for your two $2 bills, and still have a Nickelback as a tip. All the while being driven through the outback of northern Wisconsin and its colored forests with a path for the campaign trail and also barns, as these are about the only images you will see on all those flyers.

They also request that neighbors get together and drive together to the polls if transportation is an issue, and postcards about such went from friend to friend, as “the future is what we do together. Be  a voter. Raise a voter.” They often were from groups, if even in a third party sense, with names like Common Sense Voters of America LLC. For sure wouldn’t want that trait. Dead set against Prosperity also. And another saying, I’m for the children. Nope. And the Center For Voter Information said they had info about me, this information being a prompt to hit the polls and cast my ballot, because its was a mater of public record that I hadn’t done so yet. This was being provided to me,  “as a service to voters like you.” What do I say about this prompt from the Voting Police? I think I might cast my fly fishing rod instead.

And then there is that solicitation from God Himself. And did you know that since he goes by only the name I Am, and there is no other identifying group, all that’s listed is a Post Office Box. As in PO Box 1, Hudson. I think that’s by Exit 1. For more info, it says, visit JW.ORG. As in my initials, for Joe Winter. I didn’t know I was held in such high esteem!  “The website will direct you to the Bible instead of giving personal opinions. (The Koran is out). It has information available in over 1,000 languages.” Does this mean they are speaking in tongues?

And then there was more! I called Dick’s Bar before hitting the road to see if there were very many people there to speak of, Minnesotans and their newly put-forward-even-more-popularly draw, or with other geography, as a destination, and thus make it worth my trip. I didn’t know what to expect in these rapidly changing times, set forth by rapidly changing rules. The server who answered said it was, to paraphrase him, deader then the dead of even death metal — are you kidding as not seems not possible? — just five patrons and him, but thanks for asking brother. So few people he had an exact count at a moments notice, when the press — that’s me — came calling.

Back at Starr’s Bar,  and I know I need to diversify the venues from which I report, there were a scant few patrons over and above that number in the new North Hudson hub, but wait! A guy came up to the bar and said that he and his Gopher State buddies now have a new go-to place or two on this side of the river — do I ever get tired of that reference? And they will be Charging On To The Place Of Which So Many Speak, and there are a bunch of them, and how long can you hold open last call? And across the way, a guy that reeked more of Wisconsin sauntered up and said he needed a bit more change to play on yet again with the video poker, but all he really wanted to do is flirt with the bartender.

And all these people do need to, in the final analysis and does HudsonWiNightlife ever really wrap anything up, get home after their bar time, which may indeed be shorter for an unspecified-by-the-government, and aided and abetted by the club owners, period of time. And to be clear, it all is about what’s going on Over There with crime and its enforcement, with unfortunately can at times be one and the same. To wit, about what I wrote earlier, that you will be pulled over for something as minor as a small bulb that’s a dull bulb scenario above your license plate if its out, and the cop will ask where you are coming from: This from a guy I know who on probably too many occasions has had to deal with such situations — they will do their best to separate the actors in the car from each other and rephrase, hoping to see if their stories are the same.

So you are are a kind soul and gave your a-bit-swarmy friend a lift back home, all the time negotiating The Highway That Is The Danger Zone that is the Twin Cities and its current hyper-enforcement. You didn’t know that in the bowels of the back seat, he would pull out a bottle of beer and open it. The fishing by the cops when they stop guys like you for some of the above reasons soon finds more, like he has an active warrant. These days, especially, you do not want to have to deal with that situation. So be kind and be charitable with your riders, but above all else be diligent about things like the merits of, say, picking up a hitchhiker. Keep your friends close but … And keep it at that.

<<And now on the brighter side of life>>

It is the Thursday-Friday time of year again for the Cherry Circle North garage sale, to beat both the winter doldrums and the stir craziness that continues to mount. Score of houses offering anything you could want, if you have a buck — even possibly snacks such as chili, and beverages such as hot chocolate, as the forecast is for cooler temps. But there is no browsing fee of course. And I talked to the longtime fearless leader of this effort, now in its second decade, about what might be seen as its over-the-top merits. I don’t know, she said, but then started rattling off hot topics of interest that just kept rolling off her tongue. So I will get more specific: Check out the cool Harley at 637.

Two Minutes To Midnight? How fast can you chug one beer and only one, and maybe have to make it a shot. (OK, I know I really have to watch how I use that last word, especially these days. But I swear I had no intention of double meaning just a moment ago).

As I approached Starr’s Bar from the north, I saw fewer cars than usual along what is basically a frontage road for the tavern. But there was music in the streets, OK it was just in the back area where the bean bags are tossed. And the side door was locked. However, there was an ad hoc doorman by the south entry, who bore even worse bad tidings.

It was right on the cusp of midnight, and I still was turned away based on the edict that came forward earlier that evening. No new people allowed in after 12 because of the shooting by an officer in Minnesota days earlier. Could I at least get a coke to go? No, since they do not have even sippy cups. So instead, a run to the bathroom?

So I made my way and was stopped briefly by a now not so young man who I used to photograph when he played high school sports and I was the official cheerleader in those pages. Thanks for saying hello, but I motioned to the doorman that I knew my time was very limited and hit the can. On the way back, the bartender seemed ready to indicate that I could at least have something served, but alas, nothing. The two women who tried to enter as I exited didn’t seem to thrilled by the new policy, although it likely is temporary. Have to wonder if service also has been voluntarily cut short by 120 minutes elsewhere too.

Things had been quite a bit different about a week ago, when what was most memorable at an almost packed bar was the interplay, not protracted but also not brief, between a Packer fan at one end and a Viking fan at the other. How can catch better and run faster, and boatloads of info to back it up, and lets have another beer. And what have you heard about the trials of Adrian. Sad story about the bestess back who now probably could not afford a drink at this place in North Hudson. But the area was full all the way back to the long wall where they were rolling what I call mini-bowling.

So read ‘em and weep. Or more likely, laugh your guts (and brains) out, as gallows humor should win the day. Here is more news of the silly — do you believe it? — and if you do look at the calendar, and the day that was yesterday when April rolled in.

– First off, HudsonWiNightlife got yet another major endorsement. And this one is way beyond the scope of the One Tiny Berg of Pig Farmers of Iowa, (we all pick on that state but they love it as they get the joke). It comes from the global and beyond online magazine of Elect To View The Best and Most Available Humor This Side Of The Solar System. A reference that spewed from it: Planet Caravan by good ol’ Ozzy and Black Sabbath. That might sound bad, but with the holiday that is soon upon on, the “S” word is always applicable.

– Going back to another holiday, when the Ground Hog appeared back in February, he saw the chaos that’s What Is And What Should Never Be, and said screw this, I’ll come back in two months — that’s yesterday — and see if things have gotten any better. HudsonWiNightlife indeed has its correspondents working overtime all around the globe, and OK it is actually only encompassing a two-state area, barely, to try to get an interview with the Hog. The upshot: Pres Trump saw what could be coming and buried himself — literally and figuratively — in a bunker Way On Down Below,  which just happens to be the lower level of where the ground hog lives. Cuz could nuclear war be on the way? You never know, sings Megadeth, the name of which, of course, is a reference to the millions of estimated deaths from such a calamity. Happy Easter message! But I find that gallows humor is always better than crying in your beer, of ye Wisconsinites.

– The latest news is that the Minnesota legislature has endorsed — that word again — the medical use of the weed and its wonders. But only under some very stringent conditions tied to the bill: It’s only when driving in a car pool as a last Brooklyn cheer to social distancing, as you are no longer required to work from home and can commute since you were evicted anyway, and you are required to a have great big ol’ flag flopping around in the back part of your (foreign) Subaru behind your passengers. The bill was signed into law at a one-time different venue then the capital in downtown St. Paul, which is a dead and often lifeless entity anyway, while the politicians “relaxed,” and see what that means above, all the while at the club.

OK, I’ll stop now, and if you haven’t figured it out already, this is one big April Fool’s Joke, which is a joke in itself since it is now The Second of the month. I hope that you don’t find this humor too caustic, as again, we all need to laugh more these days. May the Easter Bunny and God bless you, although not necessarily in that order. Joe.

And in past news …

A post a bit below talked about holding out; would HudsonWiNightlife do that? Well especially this time, yes, as with all the various people of all types hitting downtown Hudson at night, there was the very unfortunate incident of a multiple stabbing that resulted in a fatality. Breaking out of newspaper lingo, a man was killed. And it was all over the Twin Cities news by the next morning or so, which is incredible since the main source of such news traditionally has been the metro dailies, one more than the other depending on the incident and location, especially if in Wisconsin or close to the border, and I know from working closely with both of them — again one more than the other — that the deadline for their print product has been around 9 p.m. with tweaks for weekends. And there can be ways to hold it out, that term comes up again, away from the hands of the printer throwing it on physically — at least that’s the way it was done in past days, the time of my reporting involvement — for something like a sporting event, the more the prominence the more the extra minutes an ink stained wretch had. Which says something about our priorities; screw the typical town board meeting. (And I understand the extra pressures of these deadlines, indeed on everyone, as I’ve had to deal with them also for many years). But now there are many other players, and especially if you consider online, and even different products within the same company.

So the fact that the news hit the street and the computer so fast, and you could say shit hit the fan, shows that this was deemed vital information, which again was probably driven by the fact it took place in hoidy toidy, often rich person Hudson, sleep river town that it not longer is and has not been for decades. If this happened in North Minneapolis it would likely be only a short recitation of the police blotter.

The killing happened a few weeks ago, and on its heels was a robbery at the Willow River Saloon in Burkhardt, a notably less pristine area, that also involved what was termed a kidnapping. And earlier in the year, there was a really bad accident at the Cedar Lake venue just north of New Richmond where a vehicle ended up grinding its wheels in an outdoor volleyball court until there was sand up to near the floorboard level, before police apprehension took place. Neither resulted in any Twin Cities news coverage whatsoever.

This could be explained in the latter case because it was post-Covid-closure-time, which ruled how border-to-border relations between the two states were covered, especially when it comes to bars and their music and all that goes with that. But then the fact that an employee gets locked in a safe and/or another such area and uses their wits to get out of a really bad situation? I guess there has to be an alleged murder involved for the new coverage to then pull away from what is the coolest new toy at Target …

So I waited this long before writing this column, until maybe, just maybe, the fodder of Year’s Eve might yield to the doldrums of January and there would be a followup. That would still be a few more hours, but reporters get schooled to think in terms of deadlines so … What follows is an analysis, if I can use that word, of just what was aired about the death incident itself. And its all been written as a criticism of sorts before, but never seems to take at the higher levels that determine any sort of nuance.

First, the city of Hudson was said to have a population of 14,000. Last I heard we were simply flirting with 10,000, where it had been for a bit, and the greater Hudson area has been listed around 50,000 and still growing, which again, is something the city hasn’t really been seeing. So I don’t know where the 14,000 figure came from, unless its really up to the minute with the Minneapolis transplants. And the online images that are always posted with such pieces, and really show nothing new if at all, because they can be pulled without ever sending a staffer out of the newsroom. They again showed all kinds of shots of the the “Hudson” dike sign, trite as ever, alth0ugh some were summer and some winter, and few if any actually said “file photo” underneath. These area reasons that many Hudsonites don’t really trust the Twin Cities media — or the Star-Observer either — and may view such papers and other news outlets even moreso with outright dislike.

If they really wanted to dredge up something interesting, they could point to Old Dibbo’s Days of bananas for free entry and virtual, before that had a different meaning, Fighting In The Streets, but most of their reporters probably had not been born yet. But some of the tales are still fresh in the minds of local elders, and they know that they frame how people Who Are Experienced view western Wisconsin. They were brought to mind when The Village Inn held a night with Austin Healy for a $10 entry — overpriced — and a buck or so off if you brought, you guessed it, a banana. You can get about 40 of them for a dollar across the way at Kwik Trip, so where goes social distancing when limos-full take full advantage? And that is in the village of North Hudson, not the city of Hudson.

And the local muck-ity-mucks were quick to put on it their own spin, carefully chosen, saying things like “this criminal entity is not normal here,” referring to some of the new local clientele, without giving any real hint on just who these people might be. (See a later post for more on that, as it may be continuing a trend that is not all that new).  Yes, you could say that entity might be here if you look at the increased litter by curbs and the doorways of shops in the wrong places, but I didn’t note much change in the occasion bits of vomit you might see there. The stabbings took place outside the Smilin’ Moose, which has had a certain level of rowdiness that the City Fathers tried to quell when they wouldn’t let the place take the actual name of its other franchise-and-connections from Minnesota, which I at the time thought was heavy handed, but now have to hand it too them. There has been too much of the ambulance-call-and-other-type-of-thing there. Just too much general drunkenness, but Covid had seemed to have put a limit to that. (And I will say, The Moose has been much better than other clubs with putting their money where their mouth is as far as mask requirements). Other comments were that trouble of this type can come if there is too high of a celeb rating, and other ways that bad can come from being desirable, such as the hazards these virus days of travel to other states.

I first heard of the death a bit after the fact, as I too have steered away from the downtown, like many locals, to a degree, but then heard it calling for a reunion, socially. And as far as my other hat, reporters don’t know things until others tell them. So I had to ask if the occasionally seen ruckuses had gotten any worse, when I did stop by, in this case at Dick’s Bar. The staffer looked disgusted, hadn’t I heard, and said there had been the death of someone he termed as a homeless person — they can be targeted in any city, but it was not the case this time — then glanced in a given direction up the street and said he didn’t want to talk about such a tragedy, look it up online.

In the news.

One Thing Leads To Another, or not, as people chose to pick and choose, putting out signs and other stuff for either Halloween or elections, but rarely both even though the two were — often jointly — topical. There was the blip, but only the blip, created over Thanksgiving, as even on what became to be called the Black Monday afterward, bars close to the shopping were ordered closed and largely and thusly not open to fill any void from not getting that Most Precious Toy, and we know you went close to typical bar time to try to rectify the situation. And how do and did they cope with this, in this new landscape of staying at home and the stir craziness it breeds — and maybe that is not the only thing who breeds? Why indeed signing in and putting up your Christmas lights and such, usually in the front yards of fairly modest homes, as early as the time when Labor Day passed, to pass the time — and people have been using their cooped up energy for months, devoting it to a whole range of home improvement projects, very often much larger in scope than chance would dictate, and shelling out plenty of money for a contractor and/0r a sub, or just getting their sweat out themselves. So this takes in the trifecta of holidays, and with each that passes there is a vast change in the number of small but largely home, lawn and garden remodeling ads that appear, at times almost a dozen, with new ones always popping up, at the intersection of Sommers and Sixth. I Don’t Know Why. But I do know, what about New Years …

If I only can hold out a few more minutes … That’s the timetable set by my elections editor with Associated Press, where their version of overtime pay kicks in — 1 a.m. Still, not a bad work day, since the polls did not close until 8 p.m. or possibly a bit thereafter, depending on who you talk to. So thanks to her fielding several phone calls on, uhm, what was that 800 call center number again, I was able to hustle from my main hustle to my side hustle with UPI — oh oh, did I violate my agreement of not also working for the competition, and double dipping when it comes down to double candidates? OK, just kidding and by the way, does UPI still exist, at least here in the States? Maybe have to throw my hat in the ring with Reuters! After All, I’m For All I Can Get, If You Know What I Mean, and this worker-bee attitude can even be seen on the aforementioned and allegedly eighth continent, all of which just might be what Trump called the eighth wonder of the world — FoxConn. Does that number include the Trojan Horse?

– Eddie Van Halen is in the news, as referenced above, for having passed on. One of his favorite emulaties, (is that a word, and I’m sorry,  it is now), is the oft-mentioned Jeff Loven, the biggest, baddest one-man-band-in-town, OK the entire Twin Cities. He will get his first chance to display his likewise, often two-handed and lightning speed guitar skills in Hudson on Sunday night at Dick’s Bar. Front and center is likely to be his take on Eruption, I say take because he will typically add a fill or two, maybe via the whammy bar. Hey that’s what happens when a guitar shredder is stuck at home with the family for a couple or three months! And he is now back in fine form, so you be the judge.

Loven even won a contest, from similar guitar god Steve Via, back in his days when playing with the speed metal outfit Obsession back in the 1980s, and at that time posed and did a few licks with Van Halen himself. The photo of the two showed Loven rather Elf-like with his long hair, and was reminiscent of the late Ronnie James Dio in stature, by just a bit from when the two shared many a concert stage — and see the comparison extended when Loven recorded his Heavy Metal Polka at a bar east of Hudson a number of years back. For his part in the photo, Van Halen was looking much more like Van Damme then himself in later pix after cancer, sadly, prompted his death. He’d come a long way, well past when his band was dubbed Van Hagar, as was again noted by one of my friends the other night, and since racist comments about his mixed ancestry — partly Dutch — plagued him in early years. That would never have bothered my wife, who would often join me in dancing when the mega-hit Jump was played when we were at an event.

And I’m sorry to say, all this long-before-its-time-death reminds one on this side of the river about its now a few year’s old death by plane crash, taking a North Hudson pilot and also including some youngsters, in much the same manner and number, and age of the victims and the time of year, as the late Kobe Bryant. RIP to all.

You can’t make this shit up! So I will simply comment on the news and Trump it, and refer you to the hard core metal band Testament, the bastions of Good as they now are, and their latest Prophetic release, (and who says Hollywood, loosely speak, is not the real truth — note no question mark):
In order, as the Non-Rich understand these days in their social media:
– Showtime has delayed the erring, (or in their vernacular airing), of a “clash” broadcast that could, conceivably, if that is even now possible, air pro-Trump content via a debate. Clash? Listen to me sing the more astute punk rock version on Any Given Sunday, as Dick’s via Jeff Loven, as the source of new debate.
– Twitter has barred those who tell what we all are thinking, (again statute version). Look a few posts down and you will get what I mean. Dead Donald? Could be AT LEAST A LITTLE BIT WORSE, (attorneys insisted on all caps as a backup to the truth), as a Twit would say if British and Monty Python — when that’s your source of quality info, it’s hell to pay. And the source of this info? Allegedly (again covering my massive butt), Chinese propaganda was at tell, and at least that’s not the Russians.
– What if Trump would die, and I am sorry to say that it would indeed bother me greatly, we would then get Pence, at least for the time, but would that be more ala Six-Pence? A meaner than I commentator on social media noted that Melania could “remarry” Pence, as he might be young enough to Get It Up. Donald would have to cite his sources before going to His Reward.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE A DICK ABOUT THIS. I’m mouthing this stuff because I care about this country more than I care about wealth, and that’s rare. Information is a good thing, and the truth will rise to the top. (Check out the archives for the classic, Social Contract). So check out the single by Testament, that came out a few months ago, right when the virus fully took hold, called False Prophet, and they turned out to be the real prophet. It’s trademark line: “When you were reaching out for your God, was he there?” And again, note the upper case G. We could all learn something from such music, and it’s referred to right and left on this web site. Memo to Trump before he goes to meet his maker. Can we talk?

And part two of the NFL season. Game Day came and went and not too many people showed their (masked?) faces at sports bars, although this was an observation from shortly after halftime and before the Packers piled on to double up the score, again, and the win to go 2-0. As was said at the Village Inn, on their frequently spinning sign that offers multiple-at-one-time tacos on Tuesdays, (more on that street food at various venues later), and has been redacted close to the main highway: The Packers always have trouble beating the Bears at Lambeau. OK they don’t.

Being apropo goes back to the previous week’s sign, inside and slightly edited: Vikings offer (dictated) trade to North Korea to (dictate) that Kirk Cousins overthrow (the dictator). Also then, reports were that there would be only 2.500 fans allowed and spaced out at the game with Indianapolis. If in Minnesota, I would venture a guess that only an even thousand would have shown. And in the parking lot and beyond, there were a Packer Rag Doll Not Living In a Movie that was unstuffed at the bottom, then kicked to the curb, as this might have been a foray of things to come? And a blow tart where the end with the fruit was fashioned into what looked like a guitar; and the band would play on at halftime? And at Kwik Trip entering the beer vault where a couple both wearing masks, one the green way of Green Bay and another in black that was a cast away. Across the road at the new Guv’s Place, a group of three wandered out in the second half, and when questioned did not know exactly who was winning, much less the score. So curious where they (on behalf of I) checked and it was 24-10, but not to last this close. And alongside, who came pulling across the street, was a man with an Army football shirt. Was going to ask about Navy, but not time, so this game that didn’t feature those teams and will not until later in the year. This game didn’t peak his often two-cloud-of-dust, not three offense that would have required an air attack unlike they have done overseas. However the fight that continued over from the former NFC Central and Border Battle contest was not long in doubt — as some people walked to their cars and made room for those Two Minute Warning spectators. They might have Broke On Over To The Other Side via the NFL Direct Ticket advertised on KQRS radio more and more often as the outcome seemed certain.

Granted there are blackout games where people watch from home. but an opener would seem to be primo in more ways than just the pasta I have written about, and thus filing into the local TV game scene to mark the Grand Old Day first weekend. Along those lines, there were actually parking spaces empty, only a few but telling, at the places of the Village of North Hudson that is viral Packer coverage. The bars were not as full, as such follows, even though the six-foot-rule had been slightly redacted (the political word of choice these days) to make room for a few more tables, but not too many. And there even were bits of space at the bar rail, to help out the common good. To that end, outside patio big TVs got some attention, but not really too much, kind of like that old three and out. And Lions and Tigers and Bears, their games were also shown on the smaller TVs at the Village Inn, and there were patrons who seated themselves accordingly, although as has been noted this is indeed a Packer Bar. Still, more customer traffic came their way than occurred at US Bank Stadium, where it had been announced the day before that drivers could be more free wheeling with their lack of delays, since the stands had no one other than some photo guys working on top of what seemed like cherry pickers to safely do their thing. I saw this on TV at home at “Cherry” Circle North, and in our neighborhood, where there typically are more house parties than not, things were oddly absent, even with the lack of cars driving much of anywhere to get to such things. These who celebrated as such seemed to keep it at four cars in a driveway. What did they see? Head coaches wore masks that probably made it easier to call the next play from the sidelines and not be read by the lip-readers from the other sideline, but I’m guessing because of that, it took much more time to be in the huddle before the next span could be taken.

And on the topic of the NFL, sideline reporters were hard to be found, even the hotties as eye-candy — has Nestle taken advantage of this? — who’d actually come up with pertinent football questions of the Star Of The Day Or Night. It was not that way back on March 8, a full day and night of a world women’s day that was brought home by having the sports announcers be female, and the lead voices, not just for experts on gymnastics or color commentators (got to watch that word these days, I get that). It’s a safe bet that the old Lingerie Football League, where talented athletes who also had fit bodies wore basically bikinis, were not on the doubleheader game with flavor being provided by those who had been models then parlayed that into announcing, and were not just Talking Heads. But I do respect their skills for two reasons above all. The athletes were largely without protective pads and still provided a hit like Mike Singletary of the Old School Bears. And some of the QBs actually could throw a tight-rope strike 30 yards downfield, although it’s well known that women’s arms are generally better suited for things like underhand softball pitching than overhand Brett Favre-style fastballs.

Leave it to Jimmy John’s to put a must-wear-mask-sign on display in a way to prove a point, and of course deliver it home immediately. Fear not the darkness, as an educational sign front and forefront on the door had an unmistakable image of none other than Darth Vader wearing HIS signature mask and implied me-thinks that this could be the way many of us will go if we do not respect the new rules dictated by virus control. So we are Back In Black. And how to do that grill-out while again, respecting social distancing and the like? (Or just have Jimmy John’s, the pros, cater your come together). Or maybe have dad put up a sign by his George Foreman warning to stay a safe distance away, as determined by the equivalent of both his right and left arm, Foreman former tale of the tape length. It says he will turn up the heat big-time while producing the occasional flare of flame through the meat, and melt it in your mouth for the not faint of heart and palette when it gets that far, even more by loading on the cayenne pepper while himself wearing a dual-purpose mask. So the gist of his sign: Stay that six feet away from my (flaming) grill and we’ll live to do this again next year.

So how did we get to the point of closed being the new open? To take it back to the start and the streets, four months ago … It was just after dinnertime, on even a non-holiday weekend, but nowhere could be found to eat in in River Falls. The announcement was made that made it known to restaurant and bar owners, but the public needed to get up to speed. We caught up with Jennifer at her apartment complex on the near north end, which had signs for newer arrangements, being with the way to even make entry into the building. I was parked at the other end of the complex, and saw there was a firm word on where else to enter their three buildings without making  a squabble. That was not good for us, because nature was holding off and waiting to hear the music, to be sung in a way less intimidating then the virus. In short, I needed to use a bathroom, pronto, and people were not being left into the building without a serious purpose, and that did not include just visiting — as I was told up, down and around in the foyer by a middle-aged resident who had — A KEY. I thought this was all overly severe, as I had no idea how bad it was to get, with each passing day. Anyway, Jennifer was able to come on down, but I had bolted for Bob and Steve’s down the block by that time, and would they even be open, much less have restrooms being in use without loads of immediate sanitation?

With that opportunity pissed away, sorry about the pun, there would soon be others. Jennifer schooled me on the new decree, that went into effect at 5 p.m. You would think the reporter in me would have been on top of such an important announcement, but as I have often said, even us scribes don’t know the deal until someone tells us. Sometimes we are the last to know. The only place you were still really able to get to anything, and in a backwards way make a last celebration, was where Jennifer had been just a bit earlier, that being Emma’s for a sort of happy hour, where they had off-sale still going until just after 6 p.m. and you had to actually enter the venue to get it, as everyone was having to redact fast and read through the more than a dozen pages of rules, differing by the state you were in, as to what was safe and what was legally actionable. Puff Puff Glass had their lights on to quite a bit later, as did McDonalds in multiple locations, presumably just for drive through. Then back in Hudson, there was more of that, as Buffalo Wild Wings was one of those ahead of the curve, already having more than one sign up they they still, indeed, had takeout available, as everyone was figuring out the new rules. Cold Stone Creamery appeared to still be going with a bit of traffic coming through. At the relatively new Mexican place, the lights were on and the owner was still scrambling around, with the door not yet locked. And this was to be more of what you would see in coming days, that Stay At Home did not mean that business owners chose to not be on site, rather they would be in, with minimal lighting, in a back office doing the newly needed raft of paperwork, as well as payroll, and I did not know how they would get this out to their employees. But the lots were empty in most places, as the new no-dining-in rules and how to work with them were being read up on (largely from this web site). An exception was an occasional car at the local laundromat in both the village and city.

What you expect more? You just have to wait for these stack of stories, but if you’re Lucky, and that’s what we’re thinking, it will only be an hour or two before it really starts to hit, not on Irish-style time. After all, if people have the patience and fortitude to get through the potato famine and other really big headaches that are like the ones you wind up with too much Irish whiskey, and they can still believe in a future including a Pot O’ Gold, they don’t mind walking to the pub for a bit until the news comes out, and you know, they might even have some of that walk come their way along the way by meeting up with a leprechaun. Me think’s the Irish don’t  deal with deadline devotion, rather of course, other types. See I  gave you something anyway, even though it may not carry quite the same punch as a good ol’ Guinness.

The St. Patrick’s Day foray has now finally began in its full form, with mountains of music and revelry flowing from the hilltop as high as a rainbow’s Pot of Gold, from an isle on it that’s set aside from the rest, as T-Buckets brings the party.

The place and people are all brimming with various forms of green garb. That will get you some gold, as well, as the best dress of the Irish and beyond gets a $25 bar tab, which can then be back in turn used to buy drinks, a couple of which are a wee bit on the end of some you rarely see, so tuck in your kilt if that’s right and come on over until close, and throw down some grub so you can Irish gig away from those leprechauns with gobs of glee on a full gut.

There’s lots of music Up Nort’ and there’s more than a fiddle and a drum in the band this weekend, the first one in February. Yah Sure You Betcha!
This year the Hudson Hot Air Affair features a bakers dozen different music shows, up quite a bit from most years, that run the gamut as far as styles.
– The Flannel Brothers mix rootsy Americana standards with other popular genres as they deliver foot-stomping passion, true to the Flannel, shown in photos online with a look by the band of old school (older guy) badass, and even a combo of old and new buildings such as seen at any dairy farm in the land, on their home page, full scale. This sets them apart when they play Madison Avenue Wine and Spirits on Saturday all evening long, as part of their Backwoods Bash gala. The fan favorite Flannel have a long set list that has one song by one artist — and steering way away from the rock cliches — with the only exception being Tom Petty, God rest his soul, being the only duplication. Powerful vocals with blended harmonies are key to the Flannels’ performance. Up-tempo songs will keep your toes tapping and dancing the entire show. So these are not your mother’s Nort’ standbys.
Giving the Flannel as fan favorite another fierce force are indoor axe throwing and hammer schlagen (careful, don’t hit one of the distillery vats!), Blue Ox spirits, theme cocktails, and making it Nort’ hotdish and hot beef sandwiches all for free admission and a cash food and bar.
– Roberts-based Boondoggle, with players of various ages, is known for their imposing stage-presence and own take on largely traditional country but also much more, with that kind of riffs, driven by the sheer height of some of the band members, which is even more impressive on a raised stage. Even the bass player is six-and-a-half-feet-tall and has the mojo usually seen in vocalists. “We play music by Elvis, the Beatles, the Stones, Skynyrd, Led Zeppelin, Johnny Cash, Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, Dwight Yoakam, and anything and everything around and in-between,” they say, covering an impressive five decades, as drawing from the youth vs. wisdom that is a heyday of the band.
Boondoggle provides the music, and might even tone it down a bit to allow for chit-chat during the gourmet Taste of the Hot Air Affair about Badger-based appetizers, chocolates, cheeses and sweets at the Hudson House Grand Hotel on Saturday starting at 7:30 p.m. Make sure to fly on over.
– Wicked Garden gets more specific with its sound, down and dirty and gritty, at Ziggy’s on Friday night, covering the grunge power groups that filled the top 100 charts in the 1990s, such as Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Stone Temple Pilots (hence the cover band name) and Alice in Chains. They also cover several grunge-influenced bands from today, that started strong almost two decades ago and since has kept a strong following, such as Tool, Foo Fighters and Queens of the Stone Age.
– Good for Gary, which plays the Smilin’ Moose on Friday, does quite well when it lays it out there, as they specialize in current and past dance hits, but in a twist that’s different than most, focus on the newest Top 40 songs. With a seven-piece line-up, (also unusual), there’s no hip-hop, pop or dance song they can’t cover, they say, adding it is likely that you will hear some Lady Gaga, Eminem, Usher and Rihanna at every show.
– Everything goes better with live music, but it doesn’t need to be making-your-ears-bleed volume. So noted by Jazz Savvy, a trio rather than duo, that provides, among other things, classical jazz when they again hit Urban Music and Vine all Friday evening: “Never intrusive or sonically aggressive, Jazz Savvy gives you and your guests a memorable listening experience that will make them smile (and allow conversation),” they say. Its great patio music and that’s largely how they started into the mainstream in Hudson, with a whole summer of jazz at Pudge’s, before it was Ziggy’s music bar.
– Alan Busby makes a return, again, to Hudson, where he’s played quite a bit in recent months, spicing up the mix at Urban Olive and Vine on Saturday evening, part of an acoustic trio.
– Other music is at: Smilin’ Moose on Saturday until close ( DJ that steers to more to a younger hip-hop, dance and country crowd, Dick’s Bar and Grill on Friday and Saturday night until close (variety of danceable songs and a bit more rock); Karaoke both nights at Hudson Bowling Center; and Sunday until close, Jeff Loven’s one-man-band, which is in the process of unfolding his revised set list, for those who haven’t seen the guitar (and yes vocal) virtuoso for a while.
Contact www.hudsonhotairaffair.con for more information.

Hello: This is Joe Winter, the guy with the music and entertainment web site, getting back to you on your readership request from a bit back, after we talked and you I believe viewed my press release. I did in many cases do the Halloween and band preview. I wrestled with how to best honor that request, since I am a very good writer, but on the techno end of things, not nearly as so much so. Thus what follows is my secondary press release on hits, which I hope can frame the subject and its raw numbers, as well as a second copy of my main press release. If this does not suffice, I can get some assistance from my technology helper to get you the report you said you might like to see originally. Sorry about the jumping through hoops and time lag and my long written spiel, with the holidays around. Joe.

Hello from Joe Winter, the music and entertainment blogger. This press release might answer the questions you wanted addressed on readership. I sent below, again, my main press release, as well.
I am on Google Analytics, but it seems to miss most of my hits and gives widely conflicting numbers, and even crazily high upward spikes, in what they do register. There do seem to be numbers of hits in the hundreds. One blogger I know said it best: If I get 75 “likes” how is it that I can only be getting seven “hits.” People in the computer industry have heard many such complaints. (More on that later in the email, so please read it through). Thus, anecdotal info takes on a greater value.
All my hits spike upward on days I post new editorial content, so to give advertisers the best bang for their buck, I try to post that in addition when I run a significant ad.. Not to just be an apologist, but I get up to 50 emailed comments about my web site a day, and people say they view the site, love it and will visit again. That 50-reader number doesn’t even include people who read and don’t comment.
Examples of all this:
– There are at least five times where I made light of something like a typo on a marquee sign, just to make the place sound interesting, even its by a non-advertiser, and it has existed for a couple of weeks already. But the day after my post it is miraculously fixed by the venue. So I know someone is paying attention.
– At a long-time stand-by tavern, the bartender gave me wrong information about the start time of a band, saying it was a few hours earlier, ouch, and scores of people showed up wondering why the music had not started until a bit later. The only way they could have gotten that information was via my web site.
– Most Hudson people are commuters and do surfing from work, which I am told will not always register as hits, (see more on that below), and Google made a reference saying less than one in 200 of my hits come from desktop computers, which is what you would have at work. There is simply no way the number could be that low, so it lends credence to the idea that very many readers from their work are being blocked.
– Some of my regular email commentators from Minnesota don’t even have their city of origin pop up anywhere in my Google chart, so you know they have been missed.
– Whenever I post a story, there are dozens of readers who immediately view my site, meaning they must have tagged it. However, after those first few minutes kick in, Google at times may not register anything at all, which again seems suspect. And, when the day is done, the amount of hits tallied may actually drop significantly, which also makes you wonder about their accuracy.
The vast majority of people in Hudson work in the Twin Cities and surf from there, and Google views them as spam, and doesn’t list them as legit hits, even though these people are still reading things such as my site. Sometimes, too, I’ve been told, companies have a “firewall” in their computer system to block these as being recorded as hits.
Advertisers say I do something with my format that no one else does, and they read it for pleasure, not just business, and some have even run special promos based on my site, which attracts music fans from all over into classic rock, southern rock, country and hip-hop. Again, where are they as far as hits?
I know this all is a bit nebulous, but I hope it helps frame things.

Also, Google does have value in showing the cities where the greatest percentage of readers come. Hudson leads, then the Minneapolis-St. Paul area (to see where to go when they come here), and cities in western Wisconsin. I also have many readers from Chicago, who are looking for a guide on what to do when they come for a weekend. I’ve been told by other bloggers that any site related to the St. Croix River Valley will get such traffic, simply for the tourism reason.
A lot of commentators say they’ll bookmark my site, and Google says my average reader stays on for a longer time than usual, on average up to four-plus minutes so you know they are reading the ads, not like a newspaper where an ad might be buried way in the back. I have over a dozen local clients who are regular advertisers, and they have said they feel the ads on my site bring in more business. I’m sure they would give a recommendation and I have testimonials. Thanks, Joe Winter

Hello: This is Joe Winter, a longtime music, nightlife and entertainment blogger who has a well-read web site on these types of activities locally. I had a conversation with one of your associates awhile back, right before we talked. I believe we could do some beneficial work together, as being very festive is in both are stocks in trade. I’ve run the site for five years, and one thing I do is promote events and companies that relate to entertainment and also music, and do new business “advertorials” when places have fairly recently opened, or have a change in design or focus, and I think both of our ventures reach the same demographic of clients.
I get 50 e-mails a day in which people rave about the site’s content, which is a combination of editorial content and event ads. It even got a mention on Yahoo! News. My clients include River Falls Chamber of Commerce and their annual bluegrass festival, Bacon Bash, area wineries, Hudson Booster Days, Hudson Hot Air Affair, Demon Rum, Hudson Scuba, Pedro de Este, Pudge’s Bar, Venture Fireworks, Roberts Good Neighbor Days and some of their venues, St. Croix County Fair, an all-summer series of articles on jazz at a local club, a season long Packer and Viking football promo for a pub, on a regular basis numerous area nightclubs … OK you get the picture.
You may want to check it out, HudsonWiNightlife.com. (Don’t let the name throw you, as I have readers and advertisers from all over the Twin Cities two-state area). Google says the highest number of hits come not only from the St. Croix Valley, but also from Minneapolis, and even Chicago, as having read my blog and viewing it as a primer for where to go when they get here, many of them say they will come this way to have some fun. To that end, I have a weekly Picks of the Week department that’s like a community calendar for recommended events. On this, I give more than just the dates and times of an event, such as a band playing, I also run a few paragraphs of info to flesh it out. I should note that I don’t publish this just for my own enjoyment; there is a nominal $10 fee for Picks of the Week ads (they are negotiable as far as price, even at that low cost).
There also is an option, as I said, of a full-length article, run on my home page, that can promote a relatively new business, or changes in club design or focus, and say why people should patronize it. I charge a bit more for this, but at $35 for a medium-length piece that as a rate is always is negotiable to boot, it is still a real deal compared to, say, taking out an ad in the local newspaper, where your ad might get buried in the back anyway and not even get noticed. By contrast, Google tells me that the average reader stays on my site and reads for about four minutes, which other bloggers note is unheard of in the industry, and means they would read every word of an advertorial such as yours.
The web site is an extension of a column I wrote for years for the Hudson Star-Observer, until I got downsized after 16 years. So many people asked me when I was going to resurrect it that I decided to do just that. People tell me they enjoy a web site that can be witty and promote a subject such as nightlife at the same time. The word of mouth has spread widely – just like the business cards I hand out when doing things like reviewing bands.
There are a whole variety of clubs I work with, some frequently, and some only when they have special events, and either is OK. Please let me know if we could do business. I’m sure some of the club owners would give a recommendation, if needed, as some of them simply swear by my blog and the results it gets for them.
Thanks
Joe Winter
wntrrptr1961@gmail.com

Lets rock hard and just get in it for the hard sell this weekend, (and that’s no April Fool!):
– This is just flippin’ crazy. North Hudson resident Burt Yardly will be on the DIY national TV network on Saturday night, April 1, for the newest episode of First Time Flippers. Houses that is. Burt works at First American Bank, one of a conglomeration of financial institutions on Hudson’s south side going toward the industrial park, and has been a licensed mortgage broker since 2011. What better place to view him doing his thing than the sports bars that are his ol’ North Hudson stomping grounds, such as Kozy Korner, which has his event promoted on their sign. The show starts at 8 p.m. And then its only a day or two before you can watch another showdown, as the Twins and Brewers take the field for their (afternoon) openers. In both cases, view it locally.
– This to report on the front of, on St. Patrick’s Day everyone is Irish. The Hunyuks really lived it out while playing to a shoulder-to-shoulder crowd at Bobtown Brewhouse on the Saturday after the Irish holiday, following the downtown Roberts parade they helped sponsor. At least one of their sets was heavy on American Irish music, broadly defined by one of my local sources as the tuneage fancied by real Irish immigrants back in the day, when they were longing for their homeland after landing in American ports such as New York.
– Not that kind of music, but the whole raft of country rock, modern and traditional country, and classic rock will all be the order of the day(s) at the Willow River Saloon in Burkhardt this weekend, with Country Outlaws taking the stage on Friday night and Still Runnin’ on Saturday night. Update the rock a bit with Good For Gary at the Smilin’ Moose on Friday night.
– And make it rock hard at Dick’s Bar and Grill by ordering, with an edge but also on a first-name basis, a Henry’s hard soda in the advertised flavors of grape and orange, and also kiwi! Just kidding on that last flavor.

It’s October, and that means not merely music, but much more:
– Jeff Loven indeed “got the band back together,” as he is fond of saying, when guitarist Brent made an appearance at his One
Man Band show. Back in the ’80s, when Jeff cut his teeth with the heavy metal band Obsession, Brent opened for him as a 15-
year-old Wunderkind. They on that recent Sunday teamed up to rip through Eruption by Van Halen.
– With Halloween coming, the band choices picked by clubs are apparently effected. One named Shadows on the Wall will play at
Dick’s Bar and Grill on Wednesday, Oct. 15. The only non-Halloween aspect is that they take the stage in the early evening, not
the midnight witching hour.
– Halloween drink specials abound at Pudge’s Bar and Grill, such as the Blood Clot Shot and Dead Dude. Of particular interest,
though, is The Cyclopse, which goes for $2 each and as you might guess is based on using an “eyeball.”
– The folks at Stone Tap figure that their many Oktoberfest beer specials will bring in customers, some of them stopping in
after spending some introductory time across the street at the German themed Winzer Stube, which of course is offering more of
the same. Some of the others having Oktoberfest beer specials include Dick’s and Casanova Historic Liquors.
– When the soulful six-member band In2ition took the stage at the Smilin’ Moose on Friday, it was led by perhaps the funkiest
bass player around, who never went more than a few seconds without making a cool body movement. Look for them to play again
soon.