Is this a surprise, to compensate for Minnesota, that there were hundreds and hundreds of new people out and about in downtown Hudson on the first night of the bar shutdown that took place across the river. And it was only 6:30 p.m.

(So, it was also announced today that the Badger-Gopher game that is always so big has gotten the “ax” and will not be rescheduled. But there was indeed the airing of the Badger football game, right in front of mostly Minnesota people, on the Saturday night I am referencing — even if early. So, flow with Joe’s Thanksgiving food tips instead to make the most of the time, via this web site’s Pick Of The Week department ).

Hence the earlier weekend and its multiple — as in people — wonders, I hereby became an informal ambassador for the Hudson entertainment scene, in addition to being a HudsonWiNightlife blogger
There was a trio of people looking for Urban Olive and Vine, via their phone, even though they were a full two blocks to the south, and I told them of its amenities which might not be available on all days of the weekend, but included even items for sale displayed on their walls. They seemed to like that idea, once there, over and above the solo man seen playing next to the window, soon to be joined by his female partner.
And the five-person crew coming out of the Smilin’ Moose seemed likewise receptive, shrugging with an “uh huh”to my description of what as available directly to the south, and thanking me, if with only a nod, for the info. The Moose has been one of few trying to somewhat actively enforce the mask requirement, as their principles are from The Cities, and the only ones you will see anywhere in the downtown with masks are newbies to the local scene, pouring over from across the border.
Back at Dick’s and Hudson Tap there was a bit more, if only a bit, of the bare midriff left over from the summer. One had only a teaser of what was underneath, an became thusly just an inch of skin, and another sported an inverted rectangle of her stomach shown, to max out her most exposure, and even her big black boots were higher in number of inches than her blouse, such as it was. At Urban Olive and Vine, the boots were even more on display, to go along with a really short skirt.
Lastly, at Kwik Trip on The Hill, a young girl had on only a camisole with spaghetti straps, oblivious to the weather that was quickly getting colder. A few blocks down at the Hudson House Grand Motel, the lounge that is part of its business, was — according to its sign — having a 5 p.m. opening that had been 4:30, and only on Monday through Friday. Well, this was Saturday and there was no one in the place. The bartender, if he can even live up to that moniker, said there’s is an older crowd, who are not coming out even to the dinner theater across the aisle for fear of getting infected. But this was the first night of a renewed up with the curtain, and one of several measures designed as protection had no meet and greet available after the show. Another ordained new rules for how you could order from your table, and get a receipt, as it was thought early on that even newspaper-type printed paper could spread the infection if handled. And the sign in the ditch right-of-way hawked the idea that there were POP goods available across the city in a sale at the Octagon House, a different kind of entertainment.
Back downtown, Ziggy’s was hopping even before live music was offered that was more than its early piano bar, and there was even a need for four different bartenders. Hop and Barrel, one block north, was by turn was almost empty, but across the street at Hudson Tap the sprawling place was full, and all three pool tables were engaged with multiple-person teams. Next to me was a woman who with a certain sense of embarrassment, alluded to the fact that yes, she was one of those from The Cities. And on the other side of me was a couple who noted that were from the north metro, and yes they were probably the only ones who were retirement age — and they had been here before.
But how to get home? The bartender at Dick’s said he was way to busy to be calling a cab for me, sorry, and walking up and down the street there was none to be hailed. And those that had typically been parked cross the street from Agave Kitchen were not to be seen, even for there minimum fare that can get me back to my North Hudson home for $7.
<<And what about in spring?>>
At the first bar reopening, it was more of the same, with even more of the skin, and we are not talking about just the shirtless joggers and totally bare midriff cross country runners together in a pack, again just prior to 5 p.m. The rub? Telltale is the number of horizontal rips in someone’s jeans, and this can often be strategically placed, close to a dozen in just one leg. Add to the equation big, or not-so-big-just-tall-and-heavily-laced boots that now have replaced green tennies. And X could mark the spot with straps crossing in an otherwise bare back, totally down with it to the tailbone. And the barely bras were not what caught the eye, rather what was revealed from beneath. And all kinds of tops that were over the top, each in their own way. And how long would all this last?
A bouncers take? We agreed that a euphemism could be “lively.” More like really rowdy, to the point that a lot of the regulars were just staying away — for a while. And politics even became topical for an early edition, as a guy said lets do a shot and then you can buy me one too — can’t we just get our own? — but he did have me pegged politically, turning a cheek, so to speak, and ragging on me for allegedly being a Left Wing Biden Supporter. And how could he have known that?
All these thingees in the last paragraph? The themes were much the same on Halloween, and I’ll fill you in on those soon, once I can see if there is any display at all of a Trump head, or more of the camoflague gear that goes with the hunting season.

I have seen this on the license plate of two motorcades, or as close as North Hudson, unlike its counterparts just to the south, can be as they bring partiers here like never before: A trio of numbers 495, which equates to slammin’ a $4.95 margarita at the defunct president’s club — not the cheap kind you get from HudsonWiNightlife — which foretells the deeds of The Donald (does he still merit a model word-or-two name?) and how he’s said to tip at that club. This after the much-of-the-weekend-when-you’re-supposed-to-be-on-the-job golf outings — all or more likely nothing. (Are you reading Dave Pirner, based on your lack of tip when getting Pudge’s off-sale, yes it happened, around the time when you were at the top with a hit record — whatever happened to you? — and the time the Clintons hosted you at THEIR White House?) But the last three digits of that plate are ZTD, which isn’t in my range, but I know not why, would seem to indicate the kind of sports car Trump would drive. What would you expect from a bankruptcy queen at the executive level? Get some exercise because you’ll need it for counting chads, and you can’t tally them twice if their edge is nicked! Voting twice? Only if you are as fat and counservative as former President Taft.
Riots in D.C. You have to wonder why it took this long. Some Trump supporters gathered near the White House under the name of Low IQ Individuals. Trump appeared at the window and said, “hey, I feel your pain.” As does the drummer for System Of A Down, a critically acclaimed metal act for its social justice lyrics, so I guess their can be a rebel whenever. What does your band leader, who is a staunch progressive just like his Hudson friend Taeja, feel about this? Maybe feeling like marketplace of ideas will win over, like rednecks know what the hell that is. They may even gloat about being anti-intellectual, and their may be some cause for that. Reference the unworkable ideals of Bernie Sanders. (And on a more serious level, what about the passing of “”Bernie” locally, whose name was weighed in on with RIP via the Village Inn in North Hudson for several days running, and across the way at Kozy Korner as simply Bernie, as a one-word model moniker).
And now that North Dakota has issued a firm no-mask-anywhere, anytime edict, one must again invoke song. Phil Collins had a hit record with No Jacket Required, no mention of masks in that earlier day, and then there was the Red Hot Chili Peppers: “Never made it up to Minnesota, North Dakota man is gunning for the border.”
This just in: On Lake Mill Acks, did I spell that right old Bill The Cat, there will now be a limit of one walleye, so just make sure it was the one that filled the boat completely even if walking on water is needed, (reference the New Testament and Apostle Peter). Maybe, reorder the way the catch are obtained, as banks do with overdraft transactions.
For more inconsequential data on the virus, subscribe to MedPage specialties and its bally-whooed precise categories — chances to die via strumdoliosis of the left hand, third knuckle in, on the 13th day of October on Friday under a Full Moon — For Which They Stay And Wait, All Will Be Revealed. Oh but wait a minute, we just had a full moon on a day that is right beside Halloween, so call that 800 number! Then get back to my people when there is nothing left of humanity but two zombies left at the bar, but wait that would mean that my people are dead, too?

For the for-now-still-open bar scene in western Wisconsin that is taking the place of the Minnesota shutdown, it is go south then go north to hit all the happenings as we approach another huge holiday.
And if you have been living in a cave, (more on that later), you need to know that basically all on-site bar business in the Twin Cities is now off-limits, which means that people will be streaming to St. Croix County like has not been seen until before the drinking age was made uniform, (again more later).
And the mask-or-die principle has re-engaged a fire storm on social media in the St. Croix Valley, state versus state. As one commentator said: “They are going to be celebrating while people (here) lay dying.”
With that said, here is the way you at least for the moment — as Wisconsin tends to follow what Minnesota does — can still musically Beat It. “Fight the hoards (not likely anymore), sing (maybe) and cry (over lost concert time) …” And you listeners of KQ know that this song has been played over and over under a new format (again in a later post).
But for now, the Biggest Bar Night Of The Year, and the entry weekend that will lead up to it starting on Saturday as places tend to meld toward the weekend day that is closest to the actual holiday, is still in place in the Badger State.
But we will go in reverse order in hitting home with the party scene. When is the last time a deejay was on board for a full six hours — short of possibly New Years. That will be the case at T-Buckets near Somerset from 8 p.m. to 2 a.m. on Thanksgiving Eve with DJ Jeff. And if you need more, there is an accompanying pajama party. Makes me think about an album cover on display at Ziggy’s in Hudson showing Lita Ford spilling out of her corset. Lingerie might be fair game (and this is a day of big game) if its warm. And as far as Lita, loved karaoke singing to the duet with Ozzy to that Close My Eyes Forever song. And maybe at T-Buckets …
And across the way at Shuggy’s in Hammond, there will be bands both that night and the Saturday before .. Maybe can even catch what has become the house band, Fog Pilot.
Go now down south and its Ziggy’s again, with the veritable Twin Cities cover band Uncle Chunk — can’t play there right now and did they see this coming? — on Thanksgiving Eve (for the uninitiated, that’s Wednesday night). Their web site shows the Hudson-based band Buck Tucker on a video, which is perfect for right before hunting. And the weekend before it is Skitzophonic, with a singer that looks just like alt-punk, and the return after only a short wait of Wisconsin’s own Apollo’s Beacon, with this time getting the spelling right, (not two pp’s, as that would be an app). But the Smilin’ Moose, no bands for now, as the figureheads are from Minnesota.
Now I gotta rag on a few people, who have been not so kind to HudsonWiNightlife … sniff, sniff. As you go north as village people, check out the signs of the times. You can find the ultimate deer hunter widow dart tourney and also a classic band, which will have a couple bucks knocked off if you bring a banana — that is so old school, if you remember past Dibbo’s days before the millennium turned, There Will Be Fighting In The Streets, With Our Children At Our Feet, (Minnesotans sometimes bring them with). And if you go to Kwik Trip and get their 40-or-so day-old bananas for a buck, you and your limo driver and guests (Mister Take Us To The Show), can get the discount and even more than a Nickelback total.
Why coy with where and when? Its a song and dance as old as the first publishing efforts, by cave man Unk on the wall, As Another Brick In The Wall, hold out and maybe he’ll give you a short shout-out for free. That said, can you simply say not good business but cheap (did I say that, sorry Leigh. You’re no Lita). But I will name Village Liquor and their just now available as we speak, a French wine that could be your next Beau. That starts its name and it ends with Nouvena … The sign hawks it as of the 19th.

Late breaking. The Willow River Saloon in Burkhardt still has been having bands (plural) each weekend, and they steer toward southern rock. So on Saturday Night Live the band Kinfolk takes the stage … I’m assuming you can’t miss the Sweet Home Alabama tie-in, Taking Me Home To See My Kin, as this is a travel to see the family holiday.

Want more holiday stuff? Food tips will follow before next Thursday, and will get you more dough, which could even be used for bread!

Down In A Hole because of the Get Out The Vote Police and there zealousness, (not that there’s anything wrong with that), Feeling So Small (or the other extreme), I’d Like To Fly (to the polls), But My Wings Have Been Slowly … Is all this why Alice ended up in Chains? Because who is the ultimate winner when everyone goes out and votes? The candidate that benefits from such turnout; have you or your mailbox heard from them since Nov. 3?
Not to be cynical, but when was the last time a politician cared about the nuances of what you think, unless you are vulnerable to having your stance shifted right or left, or are part of a large bloc of voters. Then they’ll be after you like flies on … nevermind. And this in the past election played out just as much as Minnesconsin Nice as it did nationally, as the Go To The Polls Police, Came Sniffing Around Your Back Door:
Public voter records from one of those get-out-the-vote groups show that compared to the rest of the state, my voting resume for showing up is “below average.” Another stated that shame on you, you haven’t voted this time around either, and they didn’t wait until late October to tell me so. And here I thought nobody really cared about my data, and I’d be flattered — and indeed suspicious — if someone gave a damn and bothered enough to be after my whole estate, which is probably worth a whole 97 cents. Then there is my brother-in-law who spent loads of dough Securing His Data, whatever that actually is, well before anybody had actually coined the term identity theft. Other flyers said that they were not about any one candidate … although the proof is in the pudding, or putting this food on the table, and you didn’t have to read between the lines to far to figure out there was an agenda here.
That Center of things also sent me a why-should-I-vote mailing that said that there are under-represented voter groups, such as those of color and those who are female, or both, so get out there and correct the disparity. And you know its true, because they spelled it out using statistics on a multi-faceted fact graph. But like Trump, the source of the facts are kept in obscurity, and one bulk mailing from an advocacy group had this delivered straight to me, as I indeed was the intended recipient but the street address was that of the village hall, wrong street and not just wrong numerology. (I’ve been wanting to get that cool term into my prose for weeks now). The hall is still a quarter-mile south, so its not like when we at 637 get the mail once in awhile for the family at 537. And another cause-oriented (their own I’m sure) message to go vote kept coming up from an advocacy group for realtors. A third group said they were working for “prosperity.” Damn, we can’t have that!
I guess that will have to suffice. But Trump says Fox News has gone Fake, and laments that things are not what they used to be on the big network. Thought I’d see a Democrat in the Bush family first. So here is the one, and the only one, example they cited of such “glaring” media misconduct: A talk show guest dared to say that not all Islamic belief is radical, sometimes the majority that’s quite benign is misunderstood. Oh the humanity of it all. It makes just about anything alleged done bad by candidate Yacoub look like Boy Scout material (OK that’s prior to any scandal of this year or two). And in another photo dredged up the GOP, (Goth Out-Pouring), she is made to look, well, just think pale skin and dark lipstick and eye makeup. But Yacoub did open the door a bit in earlier flyer photos, before the flag-drop, where she looked too-glamorous-for-the-office, like the skirt that goes a little too high above the knee. But there’s nothing wrong with that. That did not keep the GOP from using her beauty against her. Then follows a different end of the same philosophy:
This is NOT a way to help get out the vote. If you are giving a ride to a liberal, don’t turn off the conservative talk radio just because he’s climbing into your back seat, which is just far enough away that questionable speech wouldn’t be made out. After all, this is not metal music, so its likely not loud enough to be overheard, even if the old ’80s theme of Rock The Vote. But let’s not be Sound Byte People; keep up with the Journey.
Trump invoked the E word and big photo, that being an eagle, when hawking that others go out and hit the polls like an exotic dancer swinging from the pole on her stage. Its not just a Democrat thang. Just earlier that day I saw an osprey being chased by the golden bird, so as eagles do, he could chase down the fish that was dropped after a day of hard fishing by the previous predator. Big Ben Franklin didn’t much care for the eagle being a national symbol, proposing a turkey instead, but maybe as too chicken to really push the idea. And for Trump, he probably wouldn’t care much about that osprey, since it is not upper crust.
My mom lives in a small, quaint suburb of Milwaukee, but was lamenting that it was more than a week and she still had not gotten her requested vote by mail packet. But other messages continued to flow in, not requested, but saying to have a plan in case of long lines at the polls. Maybe the plan should be if you give certain candidates the bird.”Geez, my answering machine just got another call == vote for Trump! HA!” That’s a paraphrase of her spoken word from the other end of the line.(After three weeks, and what turned out to be a quick call, then was turnaround from her village hall. It arrived).
But back to the beauty end of things, and how it can influence politics. Another flyer pictures two women and claims one is pro-life and the other is pro-choice, but they agree on one thing, limits on late-term abortions, in an attack on Biden that maybe could have worked better, or so the voters sayeth. It is hard to escape the idea that one looks like a church lady — and saying to vote on behalf of those still in the womb, who in any case obviously can’t for themselves, and won’t be old enough to vote until 2040 — and the other woman like a nightclub hottie. And the lady who’s worrying about the Left going too far to the Left shows it with her wrinkles and stress lines, as they have her made to look really bedraggled.

Now let’s see what the elder statesman as president can do. (There Must Be Some Kinda Way Outta Here, with my take on AP and doing the tick tocking thing to hold out for overtime pay, and not the video arcade thingee, as this term is Biden-style Old School and it only needs to hold out as long as a Space Invaders game — which is what us ink stained wretches did while waiting for the results to come in; OK we don’t get actual ink on our hands anymore. Its Just A Gamble, Just A Game, You Treat It Like A Capital Crime. See Uncatagorized, fitting for his wild card election).
Joe Biden promised that there would be no tax increase, not a penny, for the middle class, which he defined as anyone making not more than $400,000. That high a figure? No wonder, by stats like this, that the Middle Class is indeed shrinking. And I guess that closes the door for me to being actual Middle Class. Reminds me of the elder Bush, who thought virtually everyone in the country made at least $200,000.
Biden had cool theme music and topical, too. In radio ads in Minnesconsin, his intro was also the intro, basically, to a song by Van Halen, with OMG Eddie on the keyboards. Then the lyrics begin, underscored the point: Don’t want to wait until tomorrow. Why put it off another day? The musical intro also smacks of that done by The Who in one of their songs.
Bill Clinton used a similar theme with a song by Fleetwood Mac, and considering his state of affairs with Hilary, this would seem a good band choice, as their guys and gals kick it with, Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow … It will soon be here … better than before … yesterday’s gone …
When pro baseball opened, but not in front of a single fan, only hundreds of cookie cutter cutouts of people, someone just had to get sarcastic: I saw Biden on TV — at a ball game? A sports bar baseball fan swore that he saw the actual Joe sitting up there among the fake plastic faces on a stick. This was at a time he was getting flack for not personally attending the Democratic National Convention in Milwaukee to receive the nomination, figuring the airplane flight back there would carry risk of the virus being spread further. As the situation gets worse almost by the day, it now in hindsight seems like a good choice. But on that day, my brother, who is always on top of such things and like me always has a take that’s different than what everyone else is saying, noted this: Biden’s absence might have cost him the election, this being a battleground state.
Biden said he would pledge to not increase funding for police. But what parts of their multifaceted budgets? I’m taking a guess here, but if I were a betting man — and I’m not — I’d wager that it has to do with things like how to “manage” body cams. Why not instead devote all these dollars, and I’m sure they’re a lot, to more training in areas that really need improvement in community relations, as the problem goes even deeper than what you, the average voter, know to be the case. If anything, staffing should be beefed up, but that’s always one of the hardest sells to municipal boards that have the final say. So how to put more feet on the street? That is literally the solution, less expensive police cruisers and more foot patrols, or those by bicycle or horse. Or even back to the days of CHIPS, do it on hogs, pricy but not as much as it tends to be with bigger vehicles. Lastly, do they really need all those fancy pieces of gear on their person, making them look like Ironman and bogging them down further if there would be a pursuit — and I realize that as a big part of police work is largely a Hollywood thing — and from what I’ve seen concerning matters of weight, a lot of these guys would be huffing and puffing quickly in any case. To conclude, Jason Lewis, running in Minnesota of all places for such a retort, said this: They support violence. We support the police. (Which could lead to more violence?)
On Saturday, Trump was shown walking a short distance to get into his motorcade, past a security man, but not wearing a mask! Divert back to a key decree by Minnesota Gov. Walz, sporting a mask while standing in the background, and being read by a staffer, and she was not — I think we can get away with such things for the sake of clarity and practicality. That’s one way to not leave things vague, as I have noticed especially when candidates at the regional level quote information, they always cite a source. Trump is the only one who does not, and some of his claims have seemed pretty outlandish, like having built the strongest economy in U.S. history? Maybe he did that by giving free workshops on how people can make bankruptcy work for them?
So back here come old Flat-top, with his black-Harley-style glove Trump-thrust in a fist to supporters who greeted him at a Green Bay airport.

Its rare in this business that a deadline gets extended for days, with it being put upon by a reporter not an editor, but that’s what’s happened here following Tuesday’s elections. I decided days before, as the sheer volume of great information kept growing, that I would wait on reporting the Halloween party costume and decoration scene until after the national elections, which were generating several stories on the silliness in themselves and growing, and first deliver those tidings that amounted to The Current State Of The Country. Other topics that I will mix in, as pertinent, and Sometimes One Thing Leads to Another as they invoke past behavior, are who said what late on the campaign trail to lead to the result, the push for voter turnout that led to it all, and the status now of all those flags and signs that hawked one candidate or view, or another.
Then came the idea, unfolding very early in the week, that we might not know just who won the main office until the end of the week. So The Man With The Plan, that’s me, shelved himself. So literally, HudsonWiNightlife slept. As Jesus wept. OK, that’s too much.
But now, here-to-for, we can gun it. So here goes.
On Election Day I talked to my mom in Milwaukee, who said the idea being bantied about is that there would no way, no how be a winner known, before we got up from a late night’s election work with the Associated Press, on Wednesday as the lines even there were out the door and basically a block. So I checked out what the pundits were saying, and they agreed. All Around Wisconsin, a battle-ground state that proved not to be as much-so as say, Pennsylvania, it was said to be the same.
When I reported to the election headquarters for AP in my county, St. Croix, I was greeting for the second time around by a deputy who was actually civil and could laugh at a joke, unlike his years’ old counterpart who would rush you out the door moments after the final results came in, and you were still gathering your papers. The apparently now retired McGruff, who would show signs of physically nudging you along if you know what I mean, if you did not run fast enough, was backed by the county clerk and staff who always want to get the hell out of there after a long day of overtime, which used to be often well into the morning hours — so really, you can understand — before technology got much more sophisticated but not necessarily better. AP always had wanted to do a piece of such First Amendment obstruction, but with all the politically based articles that were out there to be done, it never quite rose to the surface of the story log.
Once inside, at the small room now specially reserved for press — awe that’s sweet — rather than the spacious County Board Room where they had often been joined by various politicos, I saw that my one colleague was gasp, not wearing a mask at all — as that was required if enforced before you even got past the deputy’s checkpoint. She was hoping to get out of there before the 1 a.m. benchmark where both our news agencies had set as when the bonus-round-time would kick in for pay.
It became clear that wasn’t likely. In the city of Hudson, not one of the first to send full results in, there were a full 5,000 absentee ballots filed, almost all the eligible voters and that obviously held things up. It seemed the bigger the municipality, the longer it took to quantify those last few votes. We saw coding of results that had never been there before, such as terms like under-reporting and over-reporting. The clerk tried to explain to us that some results were being posted before all absentees were in, just to move a process along, but she was having difficulty explaining a complex process that also included for accuracy sake, the twin concepts of some ballots voting for both for president candidates and some neither, much less the status of the handful of minor party reps.
Yet we were out of there just before 1 a.m. The total county turnout had been just under 60,000 — again virtually everyone who could vote did.
A quick check was made downtown before turning in for the night, and there were just a few sparse faces that weren’t well known — aside from a trio of on-duty or off-duty staffers — and not once did anyone mention that there was an election going on. One server said they were sorry that election tallies as they trickled in would not trump sports TV and the local sage who was on top of that, and I noted my AP connection. He said that might turn Dick’s into Richard’s. I said how about Dicky’s.
<<What then about the politics come Wednesday, now that I’m done digressing>>
Would we know more by the time the cocks crows, and it would indeed have to be twice? As far as the Biden ballots, and about which states it was enough to declare a winner by AP, on the road to an eventual overall winner, AP had electoral votes stuck at 246 for days (needing 270). Trump was frozen at 214, the agency said. Even after the ballots counted put Biden at just a bit over what was needed but only a bit, and he was then recognized as the winner, around noon on Saturday the AP call had him as high as 290.
In the Senate that day, the gridlock continued longer, with 31 of 35 races being called, and there was even more of a divide in the House races, as of Saturday afternoon.

This is just more of the same kettle of fish. Even though what’s being decided among the big fish is still oceans apart, as the presidential election winner has not yet been called by AP, the issues spawned at even the local level are among the same. And as the fish wrappers throw out the latest numbers, there is still something that at a deeper level is, at least in some cases with the threats of legal action and challenges, fishy and it smelt.
With that said here is more analysis (yeah right) and satire about the western Wisconsin end of all these themes. And It’s All The Same, Only The Names Have Changed:
And see if you recognize these names, that went head to head: He claims she doesn’t promote area agriculture, but does that more typically mean what have come to be known as corporate farms all around and in western Wisconsin too, who have in cases fouled the environment with runoff. Not all of these are small scale, Happy Farms. That’s important because as you know in this state, It’s The Cows, even when it comes to advertising, politically when at times showing a politician shaking hands in an unusually tidy barn in the background, and otherwise. She actually is a family farmer herself and my wife knows her from doings at Catholic church and the obligatory bunch of kids — and from the time one of the members helped her out when she ran out of gas nearby on a county road.
Possibly related is the fallout from positions on flooding that often occurs in this region and actions to limit it, as developers are said to endanger wetlands, that have been addressed on party lines. As the St. Croix River rises and nears the doors of the Republican party office that’s headquartered within reach.
And as a rural issue, access to health care that can even be arranged to include hospital usage by keeping them open and functioning if you are not in a city, as was championed by candidate Sarah Yacoub. So be even more careful when operating that hay baler. And there’s more of a point to be made along those lines. She’s championed first and yes, secondary training for law enforcement and EMS personnel, to benefit the most, the kids. Like a flyer of an opponent that showed a preteen waving a flag and panning for votes, as his father was way in the background.. OK, maybe wait ten years for that.
I had mixed opinions of Shannon Zimmerman, who actually looks like Joey from Friends in one of his flyers. He early-on had some things that rather being vague assertions actually amounted to A PLAN, and hey, I didn’t even know that was legal in politics. See it when I get in there. One that attracted my attention was doing what can be done (euphemism) to keep high-tax-paying people — for now — living in the state and kicking into the coffers of Wisconsin rather than places like Arizona. And others said also about opps, create more of them for technical college, trade school, even starting with high school offerings, and apprenticeship programs, so such workers can get good jobs and not just a degree. They also need to deal with an aging work force, to in both cases go beyond greeters at Wal-Mart, not that there’s anything wrong with that. Along that line, it also was said be at least one candidate, that the virus situation — oh yeah, there’s that too — will be won by the efforts of the likes of teachers and, get this of all the tings to be specified, grocery store cashiers. What a career to single out. What a country.
But back to Zimmerman, who lauds himself as being a business owner, and father at 17, among other things. But what has escaped attention is what he did between that and 23, nowhere to be referenced in his flyers. What has been more prominent is the fact that he reportedly has held a different residence for residency purposes, you would think that would be redundant, than other strategic tax purposes, and hadn’t “showed up for work” at the Capital in a half a year. Maybe that’s why I’ve never seen that neighbor who “lives” in a mansion down the way. Like I live in a gated community. But hey, we’re told that everything he supports is “constitute driven.” I would hope that would be everything from everybody.

So for now I gotta go, even though I will add to this later; must check back in with AP, who I string for. My people gotta call there people, even though the polls closer over 24 hours ago. Hey, this level of importance means I now truly “need” people.

Now back to patty Schachtner, spoken about from above as not only a farmer but a bear hunting, ice-fishing mother (be careful Joe where you pout the hyphen) of six. She managed to fight (to use this word for the thousandth time this election season) to keep gun ranges open for target shooting so fans could take aim at imaginary bears when it was out of season. And she touted her role as a EMT and then a St. Croix County medical examiner who pledged to do battle on the front lines to aid those addicted to opiods — but pardon me, by the time they reach your desk, is it not too late save these people?

Hey sex sells, whether in downtown Hudson bars or in a more subtle way the whole political scene. What do they say, men are pigs?

If you are not in the mode for a really big pig farm in your beloved St. Croix County, in an effort to protect its large stream and bunch of smaller ones, then check out the message of CAFO, not Coda, like the Zeppelin record,
(So I can say for the record, what follows is my Coda, verbage stuck in front of the existing story that was posted this morning).
So for the Pence factor, and he’s just gotta have a small rivalry with Trump at this point, six-Pence is halfway to a threesome (or did I get that backwards?) Either way, that sounds like a Party. (Ask Chad at Dick’s, yes you read that right, about the exact definition, in an old joke that goes back to the Obama years).
I’m sure Trump could help make the necessary arrangements, because we are told he is good at making things happen, in a Broad sense.

And that Billy Bush on the Bus thing? If another Bill, that being Clinton, would do the same things Trump bragged about, he would have had crosses being burned on his front lawn — even if its the White House where the barriers were up on Election Day — in virtual Real Time, which I know these days is not that recklessly different than meeting media deadlines. Because on a side note, its that ilk who buys and pays for what news they want you to hear — and forget that old (urban?) myth about the existance of a liberal media, especially locally. But I’m told, Clinton still gave it a shot to take it that next step and record the bus blather so he could get some tips as far as Come On Here Dear Boy, Have A Cigar, You’re Going To Go Far. So, Kid Rock for president as an alternative action? But I will be more reluctant to sway the way of hip-hop for presidential material, even if that’s a large part of what the party deejays locally play, as ‘cuz as even a black woman I encountered on a bus said: “This is all more stupid than the Kanye West Thang.” And this was “I’m on a Bus,” not “I’m on a Boat.” (Sorry Smilin’ Moose). So as far as who runs the country, with a musical background, I guess all we can do as it concerns recent relevations, is Carlos Santana.
But our now Bordering on third-rate country is on the verge of re-electing a second-rate president, as its really getting Stormy … again. What, he wasn’t that good, not to even breath the mention of, say, he wasn’t the best I’ve ever had? In this day and age, last word pertinent, having that not-so-long-a-slong can drop your ratings among, certain types of people who are envious anyway, a good 10 or 15 percentage points.
And your claim to fame is that you screwed a porn strar. Why is that your calling card unless … you are another porn star.
Maybe more of the powers that be, one-party sided as they are, would listen to me if I hailed from Russia, and had that kind of “influence,” not because I know the skinny supermodel/escort/porn star/wife for citizenship types from there, although that’s a route Trump went, or thought of going further even after the fact …

Virtually every woman running for office, as seen in local flyers, looks stunning. Even Supreme Court Justice Ginsberg, unwittingly a pawn in the whole political and election process even in her death that meant there would have to be a replacement, looked even nicer and charming in her obit photo then when there was a standard mug shot when she took that office when, decades ago?
And Sarah Yacoub, who could rightly feel she’s a scorned women (is that the right term?) over how she has been portrayed. The opposition seems to be trying, with considerable dollars, to portray her as — and sorry, this is the applicable term based on a fairly obvious read of their strategy — a hot mess. Like their most recent photo pulled out of the vault, showing her with oiled hair draped down over partially, one eye. Some friends of mine who model would agree this is the type of pose you would see in the likes of Cosmo, and they’ve preened for such shots. The first flyer go-round showed Yacoub in what looked like a booking photo, standing in front of a height chart having her around 5-foot-7 or more. Models are supposed to be that tall and they don’t exactly dress conservatively, at least in their shoots, when sporting their version of business attire. But all, please take to heart that some of those same people are MENSA candidates and quite capable. The age-old mantra to which I subscribe, that its OK to value someone for their looks, as long as that is not all you value them for. And they need to be reminded of that. I just did.
And in flyers, vice presidential candiate Harris –and not the bass player Harris for Iron Maiden that a friend of mine says she used to lust over — is shown in more than one flyer as part of a foursome of mug shots, looking over seemingly doe-eyed at the two men she is running against. Trump may not have a shot, but maybe, just maybe, there is (still) hope for Pence.
And as far as Bernie, well he’s just Bernie. As far as whatever became of him, we’ll introduce another one-time pop culture figure with not-so-hot looks: Weekend at Bernie’s.

Up the way from our house is another guy who really needed to get the log jam in his backyard cleared out — and then fall came! And started ebbing. So there soon were about a hundred pieces of cut word placed up front for sale, and the biggest one at the top featured a uniform four-inch round hole, like the double-part shape of so many single candies with really cool-as-the-season gooey stuff, stuffed into the middle. This hole could also be seen as a size that would fit a roll of toilet paper — not the fat primo kind — but am I the only one who has noticed, nobody TPs any more; it seems to have gone out of style, or limited by the virus. Dare I say, Killing Us Softly?
Just throwing this into the kitty … Referenced on social media a day or two before Halloween and on, was a cat that’s been seen that is “black and white. Really.” I get the irony of a black cat, but … black … is that unusual for the 31st? The regional chapter of the satanic marketing committee says that this theme runs through 55 percent of the time. Just kidding, they disbanded 2,000 years ago. And white tends to cancel black anyway, so no harm done. Yet another heavy metal aside, the late great Ronnie James Dio made a career with lyrics about The Black And The White, The Dark And The Light, The Good And The Evil. And one more aside, his in-concert video to support his Sacred Heart CD — you get the literally bleeding messiah heart I presume — was played in a way that took over from sports bar TV at the iconic Dibbo’s rock club all through a Halloween past. Made my holiday. If only Ronnie could wield a sword better, being short in stature, when literally slaying a dragon at the back of the huge stage. Maybe should bring in some of your old Black Sabbath bandmates, the more burly ones, to do more than just Forget All That Macho Shit And Learn How To Play Guitar. (Sang John Cougar, and that name is not just his Halloween costume).
Where Do We Go Now, Where Do We Go … Right now, with social distancing and all, even if a costumed centipede stuck to themselve(s), and wanted to dance the night away, they would be in violation. But there is a place you still can get your groove on, late on basically any weekend night and Thursdays too, because the wayback room(s) large dance floor is not what you might expect, simply spacious. And if you are a lady and dressing like ladies do over the Halloween weekend, and your butt is indeed frozen off by the continuing wind advisory, even though you wanted to partake in the party at my suggested solution, BX Mexican in River Falls, there is a way to make it up, like the Irish did this year on St. Patrick’s Day. Make plans, between study days if you are a college student, for any of four consecutive nights on most weeks, to cut the rug.
Any then the commentary from “professionals” as a how to on this holiday. The late publisher on the weekly where I cut my teeth as a reporter/editor, always spelled Halloween with an appostrophe between the last two vowels, so totally old school and possibly easier on the non-consinents than All Hallows. And a local psychiatrist says this about describing the unusual behavior seen: You get a bunch of people in this profession together at a conventiion and after the speakers, go out and have a beer …

There is both voting and the vanquished in the next days … One of those right wing groups sent out a request for big Republican bucks to my brother-in-law, who was called Madam Kenneth Conant III, who formerly has held Office, both politically and as far as his style of conservative religious worship by that name. And here I thought that conservatives usually bash those thought to be “transgender” people. Unless they have money. Or just call him Madam, The Third.
As I was trying to Not See What I Could Not Comprehend, and definitely would not want to, there was someone at the door, and not a cub scout in this case of he who wanted Righteous Dollar Bills. Not Clinton, as that would only be 50 Cent. Oh OK, it seemed the guy actually wanted my vote. Not for him, but his candidate of choice. The guy was dressed in blaze orange, which makes me think he either had a target on his back or was fearful that there was such a thing spread out between his “chicken wings.” So I somewhat graciously took his frequent flyer and later used an orange thumb tack to try to press it through a stack of other thick-plastic, Political Junkie Heaven Material. The tack would not push through! Maybe there could be others uses for this tack, when it comes to candidates. Think The Dark Ages.

(More darkness? Dark chocolate? Dark old costumes? See “Picks of the Week” for Dark Surprises of Halloween events).