(A local Irish pub went well beyond St. Patrick’s Day, and even the Fourth of July, to be a Corn Beef and Cabbage Savior for a bunch of nursing home residents who kept all that revelry going, with the approach of Labor Day and the fact that Paddy Ryan’s will be laboring for all of us then too. Read the lengthy account, filled with superlatives, in the Notes From The Beat department).

The fairest of the fair, music-favorite-wise are fairly local, does that sound like a fair assessment?
Sound Exchange, an a capella group out of Minneapolis, is the exception, but they bring a very fresh sound to the St. Croix County Fair this weekend. Blue Moon Drive is quite country and they play a lot locally, and that makes sense because by and large they are local people. That is also true of rockers Fourth Degree, as each of these two bands have at least one musician, or more, hailing from St. Croix County. And of course there are The Memories, longtime stalwarts of the fair and coming from just down the road in Boyceville and the immediate area, and we definitely cannot forget The Whitesidewalls and their signature doo-wop sound, as both these groups just keep on rollin’ and rockin’ and rollin’ as they have for decades, with the annual Glenwood City event, right in town, being a top spot.
— Sound Exchange is a mixed contemporary quintet that features soulful ballads, blistering rock anthems, jazz standards and chart-topping singles. They bring sure-to-dazzle harmonies and wisecracking audience interaction to every show and do it with joy and humor. Saturday at 2 p.m.
— Another five-some with its foundation being this area’s own RJ Feyereisen behind a great big drum kit, and backed by a bountiful bass as the second part of the rhythm section, Blue Moon Drive gives what you would expect them to offer and mixes in some traditional country that in total spans part of two millenniums.
— Known for Vegas-style performance and vocals, Fourth Degree of Hammond provides a variety of more than 300 songs from Sinatra to Santana, along with ’60s to current pop hits. Singing and playing to the crowds, “Lawrence” honors requests over and over so everyone has fun and dances the night away via, again, hundreds of dance tune favorites. Thursday at 8 p.m.
— Since the Whitesidewalls had their genesis more than 45 years ago, their Rock ‘n’ Roll Revue has been the Midwest’s top 1950s and 1960s doo-wop and show band of light to moderate rock and roll, with a loyal fan base that continues to grow and show support for their fave five-member group. And they even still have most of their hair. Friday at 7 p.m.
— The Memories have a similar tenure of experience in the region, although not a quintet like the others, but 44-plus years later are still going strong with their light and tight harmonies. This of course goes back to the days when most rockers had not even started finding their sound yet, and all that time the melodies were being honed and not becoming just the stuff of memories. And at the fair? They’ve performed 32 years and counting. Saturday at 8:15 p.m.

Booster Days and the after-fest party at local bars opened with both a bang and a fizzle, depending on what location you were referencing. But next-day, come early afternoon, everyone was getting ready to pick up the tempo again, as boats were lined all through the St. Croix River as the best place to watch the fireworks, with not a lot of space between — despite high-water restrictions that limited access via boat launches. Then an ambulance came roaring past. The Fourth of July and a mishap? Nooo, really?
Back to First Street in the hub of it all, the guy in front of me in his car by the main intersection — you know, the one by the perpetual Rotary Club cool car for raffle — was waving his arm eastward with a glee that seemed out of place. I eventually decided to pass him, thinking he might have a stalled vehicle. I looked back and he still grinned broadly. Questioning, I turned up Walnut Street to get to the main drag, and saw that despite signs, there was no road construction. Then it hit me, this do-gooder was trying to warn me and others about the impending traffic jam ahead by the Phipps Center For The Arts. Lastly, the 15-minute parking spaces mid-day on The Fourth were being mostly honored by drivers, even those from Minnesota. Later in the weekend, not so much. But later when the rain started sprinkling, it brought out the plastic ponchos and umbrellas, and even despite the warm weather, a full-fledged parka. Some people, but not a large amount,  setting out blankets for the Saturday parade, were ahead of the game, but they then got rained on, and these showers no doubt rinsed away the sometimes coy “ads” that have been drawn up in chalk on the pavement. Such rain-relief garb could also be seen worn by the street musician halfway up Locust Street. And across the way at The Postmark Grill, there were two levels of protection, the lower big umbrellas and the even bigger upper awnings. There was something much like this unveiled at Pier 500, right next-door to the Booster Days fest itself.
— The flag hoisted in the back of a truck revving through North Hudson had a pole that was, I swear, 15 feet high, and we presume the flag itself contributed to that reach because of its 50 stars, added as the country grew, that were flapping at times upward in the breeze. Talk about the possibility for wind lag, but after all, this was The Fourth. However, in another mile there would be the railroad bridge on the other side of Lake Mallalieu, which can’t accommodate a vehicle more than 13-feet, 11-inches in height. To anti-quote Colin Kapernick, Why didn’t we just stay with having 13 stars?
— When talking about sports cars on holiday, although still being put into service and driven, there were a couple of them so small and sleek where … well … let’s just put it this way, you could probably fit four of them at once under that railroad bridge. Two more of them could be seen in that vicinity the next day, one cruising north, and the other south to Booster Days. And then there were those two that were totally decked out in big decorative decals, but only on the front hood. As a gift, like Doubling Down after Dad’s Day.
— The eagle decals were spread all over town, on two Cadillac-like cars that were again, longer than tall, one bird being the centerpiece with long wing-like extensions that actually were stripes from one end to another, and the other with those stripes going the whole nine yards in width, literally.
— Booster Days isn’t the only game in town attracting people to and from Minnesota. One of the biggest golf tournaments in the Twin Cities in years is being held this weekend in Blaine, and front and center through it has been Minnesconsin’s own Tom Lehman. You read that right, both states. You see Lehman designed the championship-style Troy Burne course just south of Hudson, as well as having such a hand in the course in Blaine. It seems to have worked, as he was well under par early on and in contention. But this tourney is big enough that yes, you might see others than just Lehman here in town. So if you are dancing at Dick’s and happen to see someone wearing a very natty checkered beret …
— Another game in town, via the wonders of satellite TV, is the World Cup. The last time around with such soccer, there was a guy at Buffalo Wild Wings who said he saw his face on the big screen above five times. That’s about as often as you’d see the goalie pictured front and center.
— Also about TV, Judge Judy has now sentenced herself to retirement, according to stuff I read online, which may or may not be as accurate as a court docket. And that’s questionable too, Reminds me of an episode where a defendant, maybe bolstered by liquid courage gone awry, called her ma’am and sir in the same sentence. Maybe hit the strip club if you can’t tell the difference. Can we recommend the new and much improved Cajun Club, which is only a quarter-mile up the highway from one of the best places on the Wisconsin side to view the “flashing” show, and take in another such show and keep the party going after the Stillwater fireworks, if you pass on the even nearer Next Stop Bar, a pattern that was evident again on Thursday night.

Its strong on country, as you might expect, and as far as the numbers game, the music groups are seven in total, and steer away from the soloists and duets that have been popular for largely cost reasons for a few years at many local venues. But Booster Days 2019, like other years, is played at the spacious Lakefront Park band shell, a far cry from the summer patio scene, so you’ll see a lot of five-member lineups, with the Sunday finale breaking from that course: The music starts Thursday, on July Fourth itself, and runs through Sunday.
The lineup includes The Chubs and Yam Haus on Thursday evening, Bigly and Stone Daisy Band on Friday, Wicked Garden and Rhino on Saturday, and Miller Denn and Ditch Creek Dixies on Sunday, at 1:30 p.m. The rest of the bands start at 5 p.m. if they are the introductory group, and 9 p.m. if they headline.
This Fourth holiday should come first:
One of the main sponsors of Booster Days and its music, the number of bands of which is even greater than usual because of the Thursday timing of the July Fourth holiday, is the Family Fresh market and grocery store on Coulee Road. They say they feel such backing of the local community through festivals such as these is vital, especially these days when some view the times as somewhat tumultuous and so being patriotic as Americans is all the more important. That is why it is even more crucial to take some time and fully celebrate the holiday that marks our freedom.
Family Fresh can help toward that end, by supplying you with items that help make things festive to go along with the music, such as inexpensive but prime cuts of steak to grill, not to mention ground beef and hot dogs that are also very affordable and are in packs that will keep everyone happy, no matter the size of your party. Plus, you’ve hardly walked in the door and you can see great prices on specialty brats and hot dog buns, lots of condiment options to put on them, various chips, and even everything you need for S’Mores if having a fire pit up at the cabin, (with festive flags positioned all through the display). And at the enclosed Caribou Coffee store off the the right side, you can get your growler and with it comes a free refill of any size, plus an additional price off you’re seniors (if you’re treating granddad and grandma on this holiday, as they have seen the many ways our patriotism has played out positively over the decades, as they love all this food and drink stuff, too).
The Boosters bring it, and busta move:
The bands at Booster Days are, two each day except Sunday, in order of appearance:
— The Chubs call themselves a cohesive group of classic rock musicians from different generations, who play a wide variety of styles in that genre and beyond, which is what you want when trying to reach a broad audience such as at Booster Days. And they wander well into Cheesehead country with their performances, way beyond the Booster Days turf, so they know what we like here.
— The Chubs are followed up by local and regional rockers Yam Haus, a group of young artists who took The Valley and its festivals, especially in summer, by storm a couple of years ago and have been building a loyal, local following through frequent gigs in the Hudson area, mostly, and beyond. A combo of classic and closer-to-current rock that’s not unecessarily hard, although there might be a long Deep Purple solo mixed in. The onstage banter can be very entertaining, and wittier than you might expect from such a young crew.
— The members of Bigly came to this point after service in various previous bands in the region and they play all different styles of tunes, up to and including funk and soul. Like Rhino, they have a sense of humor, as is shown by their online bio that references some disco songs in their mix, then backs off it, saying they are just joking. But they seriously get after their funk interpretation of Sweet Child of Mine by Guns ‘N’ Roses.
— The Stone Daisy Band is through and through country, traditional and vintage, modern and slightly crossover, and all sorts of tunes that touch upon the genre. For example, just know that the first song listed on their set list is La Grange by ZZ Top. Also, the drummer has been up and down and around with various acts. (And the band’s main web site photo looks like it could have been taken in virtually any farm field in western Wisconsin).
— Wicked Garden gets more specific with its sound, down and dirty and gritty, covering the grunge power groups that filled the top 100 charts in the 1990s, such as Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Stone Temple Pilots (hence the band name) and Alice in Chains. They also cover several grunge-influenced bands from today, such as Tool, Foo Fighters and Queens of the Stone Age.
— Lots of bands say they are high energy, but if longevity is any measure, Rhino truly brings it. That quality, and a sense of just plain fun, is demonstrated by their “everyman” band photos online, one of which shows a member — their are five of them, like many groups at Booster Days 2019 — blowing bubble gum. I guess they can walk, play and chew gum at the same time. The guy in the Aussie-look black hat has always been cool.
— Miller Denn joins the Ditch Creek Dixies to wrap up the fest, and they steer more toward the traditional country, and that painting of a big steer in the background of a main photo shows you what you’re getting. The look of the costuming by the two blonde haired “Dixies,” who must be simply in their teens or just past, bears this out.

Blow up no more stuff!! Enuf said, in a huff. Or not:

(And while we’re at it, in different departments on this web site, I’d Venture a guess that there’s still a best buy to be had, with great service, at a nice local fireworks shop; and for those public servants who hit Kwik Trip and make sure no one bends the rules too far, not only a doughnut day but also National Smoothie Day. Yeah!)

— A longtime fireworks store between Houlton and Somerset will close its doors Forever, (pardon me, as that’s the name of one of their main competitors), and they are currently having a “fire sale” of sorts to get rid of their last inventory. The owner said the strategy has been so successful that all items will probably be gone before the Fourth even arrives. Going out with guns ablazing. And would he reopen somewhere else, like the Big Box stores do to try to build an empire of sorts? No way, he said, as he’s been around this game with his store for 40 years now and this (now former) job can burn you out.
— There has been scant little progress to move ahead with getting that tiny shack, or what’s left of it, basically a basement that’s mostly dirt, completely torn down. The project has bogged down in the past few weeks, which is interesting because we are coming up on a holiday that could conceivably — and jokingly — fix the problem. Across the street, when years ago I did a photo feature for the local paper on the option of setting off in-your-yard fireworks displays rather than taking in the downtown shootfest and its troubles with parking and getting a seat, a centerpiece was a shot. Again, it was across the street — of an amped up sparkler system in someone’s driveway. Maybe turn the nozzle, if it has one and it works that way, 90 degrees, have it point directly southward and torch what’s left of the eyesore? Doubt it would get anywhere near the insurance deductible. Maybe that is the same with the thick haze (none of it purple, except for Deep Purple, see below) across Second Street, we assume from potent off-shoots, that made traffic slow almost a week before The Big Thing. We think the same thing could occur in the old-tree woods south of Hudson Hospital, where there always seems to be some very bright and large-scale shoot-offs, the best the law will allow for fireworks. And infant care is available only a few hundreds yards away. Come On Baby Light My Fire.
— Every fireworks Fourth when the city of Hudson shoots off from Lakeview Park, the St. Croix River is filled with hundreds of boats on the sides of both states, to view our local version of Smoke On The Water. Do any of them make it over to the Bungalow Inn in Lakeland afterwards — as there’s karaoke virtually every weekend but shooting off fireworks in Minnesota is very dicey from a legal standpoint — or do they stay in Hudson? “We get a smattering of people. But after the fireworks they all go back home to light things off,” said a longtime server at The Bungalow.
— If you missed mother’s day and father’s day to get your game on with them, here’s a suggestion to make it up to them, as everyone loves fireworks, even though mom would require that you pull out all the stops to make sure they are legal. For every major (or not so major) holiday, Greyhound busline has deep specials to enable you to go see the folks and bring them something fun as a hostess gift, more so then the proverbial cheesecake, even if you are the King of Lo-Cash, (see the Picks of the Week Department for another take on that musician). AND NOW THE DISCLAIMER: HudsonWiNightlife makes no representations, whether stated, implied, run past all of the glut of local attorneys, hinted at, alluded to, or made teasing fun with, about what items you can and can’t take on a bus. Check that out yourself, and we hope its not as confusing as all the legalities of what you can possess, shoot off, transfer over the bridge in your ever-popular-riding-purpose Segue, carry in your pocket, tuck behind your ear, buy an extra big purse for, etc., concerning the different rules for fireworks in each of the Border Battle states. Can Iowa take advantage of this?
— Lastly, before the 75th anniversary of D-Day becomes the 76th and gets far less attention, then wait around for the huge blowout of remembrance that will certainly happen at the century mark, a local man who hangs out at Dick’s and can’t be more than in his early 30s has his own D-Day experience, this being in 2003 and meaning that this is a 16th anniversary. He was part of an elite sniper team that took out not the likes of bin Laden, but someone almost as dangerous, but only after needing to wait for the right time and being camped out for days in snowy below zero temperatures. Guess that wasn’t Iran or Iraq.The pedestrian walkways in front of the Smilin’ Moose have been painted with two bright White Stripes. Prior to this, with the fact that people of all ages just wander into the street and hope drivers will stop, you needed to be a Great White Shark, or Great White Band, to be seen. This counters the fact that some stupid people venturing across at night are wearing all black, the later the night the darker the color tone.

(Also, Martha Stewart still a force? As far as finding her, yes, existing offices and large production facilities here? This intrepid reporter had mixed success on the trail where he followed not the money, but yes, the ongoing leads providing bricks and mortar here, just in time for Mother’s and Father’s Day fodder as far as gifts? See this web site’s Blast from The Past department).

Go ask Alice when she’s ten feet tall, when framed by boards not chains, or when she’s just small, as such an Alice could hold the wall and the key to swaying the building inspector, since “all (of them) love Alice”:
— The Man In The Box has his work cut out for him, slaving away even after hours to help rehab a tiny months-ago torn down dwelling — as I’ve seen in treks back home — beneath ground level in a 10-by-15-foot pit that is framed by 2-by-4s. What was a one-room house is only a block from Season’s Tavern; people might wish to imbibe before passing by the reconstruction — as there are a lot of those in the neighborhood who walk a few blocks rather than drive — in hopes of seeing two of the old home’s skeleton, using double vision to make it seem just a scant bit bigger. To partially quote Alice in Chains: “I’m The Man In The Box. Buried in the mud. Won’t you (the Public Works Department) come and save me … Sand rains down on me and I sit …” All this to make the property, for the first time in years, quite beautiful, hopefully. This since the decades-long eyesore is no more, right in the heart of North Hudson. It was by far the smallest house you have ever seen, with no grass yard what-so-ever inside the tightly encroaching fence, and overgrown brush almost as high as the roof. But here’s a toast to urban renewal, in a small village. And someone I know noted, that up front toward the street, there was some headway made quite some time ago with framing of wooden pieces, but it was then covered by a great big — and for the first time I’m using such large terms — brown tarp.
— A carjacking was done in Hudson, and such breakins also took place in North Hudson, which was not unlike my experience downtown when a young guy grabbed the keys that were on my car seat directly in front of Dick’s Bar and went on what he said was the beginning of a joke being played on his friend. He then started pulling out for a joyride. I caught him while I was going out the bar door, and he abandoned the quasi-theft, even though he looked perplexed when I asked him for his license, just kidding. Then there was the recent time outside of the Freedom Value Center, when I accidentally got in the back seat of the wrong red Ford, carrying a 12-pack to boot, but the driver was more than Minnesota nice about the mistake. She did exit the car though, quickly to go get her favorite comforting snack.
— Dream a little dream, but they can be strange if affected by a night out. Two examples follow, as HudsonWiNightlife has “graduated,” fitting for this time of the school year, to dream analysis, although we are not experts. I dreamt that I was playing one-on-one with my younger and taller brother, but had to choose between layups or jump shots and not do both. Do they have this constraint in the NBA finals? Then there was the vision, shown by remote viewing of the sign outside the venue, that Guv’s Place near my home in North Hudson was closing. Ouch! That would be a nightmare.
— An option that we’re frankly, not quite sure about concerning a recent cycling ride for charity. Simply put, its OK if you are a “virtual” (cycle) rider for this benefit. But, however, it could be an Easy Rider.
— Drawn in chalk on the concrete near the darts games ar Dick’s, were a penis and balls, or is it a scissors? Like the great big onions that are sometimes waiting in the wings for inclusion into entrees, maybe waiting to get sliced by that scissors.
— While we’re at it, what was it that I saw on the pavement in a late night walk to The Village? A toothbrush? (I thought that because right next to it was one of those plastic, circular floss thingees that appear to appear everywhere along the street). Actually, it the first item turned out to be a well-positioned straw and a cork. Then there was a flattened red, white and blue can, as in let’s make America (and its beer) great again. Like the cover girl dressed in those colors on an Old Milwaukee can I saw. Across the street, there were two other empty cans for different brands. Diversify your beer.
— This was not a 21-gun-salute, even though it was Memorial Day. Three older people shielded their eyes from the evening sun with their right hands, sort of saluting while glancing across the street to the Smilin’ Moose and the cigar shop. If they were the more youthful age of many newer patrons, what would you get when subtracting three from 21 (year olds). Uhm, 18 (year olds).
— But an even more somber situation involving remembering passed loved ones. One of my favorite bartenders had the horribly tragic occurance where her fiancee died right on their wedding day, even though she tried to be upbeat on the job — and was even friendlier than usual, maybe because a need for support. HudsonWiNightlife extends its sincere on top of sincere condolences.
— In line to buy beer was a guy sporting a Rod Carew jersey (No. 29), which was displayed with an off-shade color. Then, moments later, as a guy stood at the counter, on his back was a different flashy red jersey (No. 22) that was for a different regional player with a really obscure name. Could they in some baseball universe be Twins?
— The Giggle Factory had its van parked outside the Village Inn in North Hudson when a fundraiser was going on. If there was too much fun happening inside, it could have been producing — to borrow a decidedly off-color phrase from a childhood friend — shits and giggles.

Rise Against what? Bad jokes on April Fools Day (In The City). Or how ’bout kicking out the cool weather of spring for good, and welcoming summer via the Memorial Day weekend (see for examples our community calendar)

(And to backtrack, other April Fools Day jokes can be found under this web site’s Notes From The Beat department. And while we’re at it, discover some very last minute — fabulous, sort of? — Mother’s Day finds under the Picks of the Week section, for all you guys who dropped the ball, and now have a chance to pick it up again doin’ some grillin’ out over the Memorial Day weekend):

Got all that?

— Anyway, proceeding with earlier bad humor, the deadline for a kite contest in the city of River Falls was a past Sunday, and the level of participation was so great that the park in which it was held actually rose off the ground by a few inches! The ground resettled when it was discovered that the winning entry would be paid not in 50 US dollars, but in pesos. The National Weather Service, and in a jointly released statement The National Park Service, through their Bureaus of Levitation, could neither conform or deny the report. OK we’re teasing as it is April Fools Day. The only bits that are true are the kite contest and its deadline and the winning amount.
— A pair of unrelated business ventures, posted on bathroom walls at local nightspots, have to do with how to celebrate the beginning and the end of a relationship. The first one, a company that hosts private fireworks displays, touts that their services could be used for “divorce parties.” (OK, that should not be plural). Another advertises that they can have paintball outings, indoors so they could conceivably be held in winter, for bachelor parties (and we’re assuming for bachlorettes, too). However, since most marriages occur in the summer, a moratorium until at least June 1 has been issued by the West Wisconsin Dis-unification Committee. OK, again, the last part of that last sentence is not true.
— A placard outside Broz in River Falls, listing their many cool food and drink specials, was laid flat on the sidewalk by accident. Not to be outdone by the Final Four, the people from Monty Python were in town to get passers-by to “hop” on over it to continue on their way, and at a same time film their newest episope of The Ninny Contest. Just kidding.
And now for items that are not “fake” news:
— Opening Day for baseball and the living is easy at the Village Inn in North Hudson. If not somewhat subdued. There were a handful of people at the bar to witness the home run hit by the Brew Crew (like Harvey’s Wallbangers in the ’80s) to give them a lead — so they were toasting The Crew not crying in their beer — but the applause was scattered and only then by a few of them.
— Hudson Tap is now open, with some of the same cool amenities as its predecessor(s), as described by a cool new bartender I (officially) met at the latest reincarnation. I referenced the entire wall of neon TVs behind the long bar rail that are still there from the relatively short-lived Rio Loco cantina and Mexican grill, but she took it back one more notch to mention when it was the differently designed Ellie’s sports bar a number of years back, and added that she had worked at the Smilin’ Moose and other places before — from which she recognized my face — but hey, now I’m here. And here’s the rub. Her name is, you guessed it, Ellie. (And she looks just like an older version of one of Roseann’s daughters in that landmark sitcom).
— A man entered the Freedom Value Center late one night during the end of the football season, coming from the Village Inn and/or Kozy Korner, to make a purchase I thought might be related. He looked like he was sporting really long dreadlocks. However, further review revealed that it was actually the design down his back of his Starter jacket for the Carolina Panthers. (Its true!) It also looked like Packer pattern, but by that point they were out of the playoffs. Also wearing totally mid-March green and totally there also, in the form of a sweatshirt bearing a slogan in front, was another man whom it turns out was not Irish anyways. Here’s one other slogan, and our take on it. “Nothing beautiful is perfect,” and that includes that bit of toughness you find in corned beef and cabbage.
— Two signs in the windows of downtown businesses. One was for the newly opened Old(e) Coin Shop, named before there was paper money printed, we assume. The other is more sad. J.R. Haubrich’s jewelers is closing after many years of saving dumb blokes butts if they’d forget something like Valentine’s Day, and prices are 70 percent off or more. (Those are not J.R. Ewing type prices). A connection with nightlife can be seen on ads on two different drink coasters elsewhere in the downtown. One shows an ugly bulldog, quoted as saying “I just have to look pretty sometimes.” The other, more famously says, Years of Getting Guys Out of (Last Minute) Trouble.

(The combo of the warmth of Irish souls, and the collaboration of their favorite day of the year with the nicely coddling weather, is described fully in this web site’s Notes From The Beat department).

If Paddy Ryan’s can do their regular menu of traditional meets modern Irish, so great by all accounts, think how special their specials are for St. Patrick’s Day itself, including but not limited to the best corned beef and cabbage I have ever tasted and accompanying vegetables that every piece had the perfect level of doneness. And of course for that whole weekend, the diverse and lengthy regular fare of dozens and dozens of choices is also available at the town of Hudson pub across from the truck stop. It was Saturday afternoon that I took it all in the give readers of this web site an idea of what they could expect to find, if going either later that night or during that next day so lauded by all who are Irish. And please note, even though the quality is fantastic from start to finish, the price is right too. And the Irish enthrallment at Paddy Ryan’s, even though The Seventeenth is now past, just keeps on going and going and going … Especially for some fair maidens in Hammond, Wis.

But on the day before, the hostess met me immediately and even had a backup person to greet the patrons behind me. I told her that I had a special arrangement with the proprietor, Kirk Mueller, for gathering story material and that she might want to verify with him that these straight up were the arrangements that existed, but kudos to her for trusting me, not taking that extra step, instead pronto offering me a seat wherever possible — the place despite a large amount of seating capacity was popular and packed full, even though it was between the lunch and dinner hour and not a peak time. But there were still a few seats around and I was offered one either at the bar or by the big west window with the sun setting in the background, and the hostess quickly suggested to sit on one side versus the other, so I could have an over the shoulder peak at the glowing orb while at the same time not having it beaming directly in my face. (I should note that I know I was not given special treatment as a member of the press, since the hostess then handed off the assignment to one of the many other staffers there, as the level of workers available was more than sufficient in this busy day, and I had no other dealings with the hostess after meeting her at the door, and there simply was no time to convey to them my circumstances).
But back to the food. The corned beef was by far the most tender I have had, yet full bodied. It was not the usual inches-long slab you would find most places, with tough pieces of gristle and fat that are hard to chew, but at Paddy Ryan’s it is shredded to just the right degree — just a bit thicker than what you find with pulled pork, which they also offer. Any there was nary a bit of gristle to be found. My corned beef was seasoned to just the right degree, tasty in a way that compliments the meat but not overpowering. (Add a bit of their gourmet malt vinegar that is at each table if you want a bit more zing). And the consistently toned, light red color of the meat was very visually appealing.
You got not two or three, but four delicately seasoned potatoes, lightly glazed to produce a light gold sheen. The cabbage was another part of the pattern, shredded a bit thinner than the big chunks you usually get to give it a consistency near that of cole slaw, and the flavoring and color was, again, the same through and through. A refreshing change, I thought. Add several lightly seasoned carrots and you have quite a dinner! But that’s not all. The proprietor came by table by table through his busy joint to greet each customer and offer them a $3 shot of Jameson. There were other shots of whiskey type things available for as little as a dollar.
(Rehabing from corn beef and cabbage)
I left half of each type of food on my plate, since I was going to take it home to my temporarily bedridden wife, who is VERY Irish, to sample. So I asked for a carryout box, along with a brief explanation of who it was for and why. It did take a few minutes to arrive — but in the continuing theme of great service, I was asked three times if I needed anything else in the interim — however, there was a reason for the brief torpor. The kitchen topped off the other end of things for my wife bigtime, namely loading up a bunch more of all four kinds of food, filling the box to the brim!
A note here. My wife, Jeannie, is in a nursing home, Hammond Health Services, to rehab after a knee replacement surgery. She loves her corned beef and cabbage — and always makes a point of it while eating to call her mother, also in a nursing home for a while now but a longtime Minneapolis Irish lady and prominent Hibernian — but it appeared that this time around, she might miss out on this for perhaps the first time in her adult life. It is a tradition for her to go with a longtime friend and Catholic co-worker to Fabulous Fern’s in St. Paul, decked out in her occasional-costume-contest-winning green garb that includes tennis shoes painted sparkly green with pointy extensions of a few inches and balls on the ends. She also has a few other faves there like bread pudding, however the CBC is the must-have. (And her friend Theresa, although Polish and German, had to fend for herself that day, but definitely carried it on to go there and made the best of it, like in the past). But alas, all in all, Paddy Ryan’s to the rescue! Almost like a gift from Santa to save Christmas, but that’s another holiday. If you can’t go to the corned beef and cabbage, have it come to you, and worry about taking in the other fine Irish goodies at Paddy Ryan’s later. And so I became the courier. And maybe this will not be the only time, as there has to be a knee replacement procedure of the other knee next year. And like this year, she literally tried to schedule her nursing home release date to enable her to get to Fern’s, even if yes, I had to be the courier 20 miles in the other direction, west not east.
But it all worked out in the end, as she totally loved this food from Paddy Ryan’s, just as it came. Yes, the corned beef was superior, and she agreed with me about all its attributes: “Mmm. Yummy, yummy.” But there had been more of the same prior to that, as she always saves the best for last when eating. In particular, Jeannie said the cabbage was partially the shredded way I described it, but also further to the middle had a roll-up quality she had become used to. She seemed to appreciate having a good dose of both styles. The meal, in all: “This is just wonderful.”
(What others in Hammond said)
The other people at the table at the nursing home, and the various staff members — Jeannie gleamed when they happened by, as she showed them all what had been brought to her — all had heard of Paddy Ryan’s, even though they were way across the county. But her new friend Sharon across the table said she had been to Paddy Ryan’s many times, St. Patrick’s Day and otherwise even though she has lost most of her mobility, and it was always a great experience. It was a primo longtime love of food and atmosphere for her and her husband, who died earlier this year, but because of the delivered Irish food and the company at her table, she was able to relive through conversation all those things. But for today it would have stay at the level of fond conversation, and the eats for her being the house-made ravioli sides, and fruity dessert, a tough act to follow in itself, as Jeannie was not giving up her prized corned beef, at least not right away, and Sharon was too polite to fully ask. And right then there was Jennifer and her mother, who said they are fond, often, of all things fish at Paddy Ryan’s, and a server who said the Irish stew there for her was regularly spectacular.
And the ultimate tribute? (I say this with tongue planted in cheek, which would make it hard to eat even the tender Paddy Ryan’s corned beef). I do the cooking around the house, and usually it gets thumbs up from Jeannie. So as a sentimental addendum, since I didn’t know until the weekend that she would indeed get the corned beef and cabbage that she so deeply loves, I had made her a dish myself, hoping it might have romantic appeal. It was heavy on potatoes and other such vegies that I thought would have Irish overtones.
I gave it to her second, immediately after the Paddy Ryan’s delicacies, and her response? Sorry Joe, the corned beef and cabbage is just too good, so I’m sticking with only that. Thanks for the thought, but you’ll just have to munch down on your loaded potato dish yourself. I was not too offended, as I’ve failed as a cook before, but then I came across this connection. The nursing home had a “baked potato bar” with fixings in their activity room on Friday, which was the day when everyone such as staff and residents actually celebrated their St. Patrick’s Day and dressed in green, but despite my lengthy suggestion to her that this could be a precursor to corned beef and cabbage, Jeannie took a pass. Could this be a subconscious behavior to make more room for that massive dose of corned beef, etc., later in the weekend? All this going on and their still was the Irish-themed music of the decades-long family group from the Hudson area, the O’Brien singers. One of them wore a green part-beret for the day, but the green everyone was mainly after was the great food.

We’ve got the pubs, or in some cases places that are not so much pubs, but become so bigtime as far as food and drink and all things Irish, 364 days a year, or in this case 363 days, since the Sunday that is Patrick’s Day happens to fall on a weekend. (A little leprechaun let me in on this little secret: What about Leap Year? Fostering in another day for Guinness libations?):
— Paddy Ryan’s pub in the town of Hudson across the way from the truck stop, has got to be the ultimate Irish enclave in this area. They show it this weekend by taking their standard of dozens of authentically, but with just a bit of their own modern American twist, ethnically oriented food entrees, and expanding on them. That means you can look to items such as corn beef and cabbage and all the accompanying trimmings and sides and stout drinks, to be what most will agree is indeed the standard bearer for area people with refined tastes along these lines. They proceed beyond the farls and flatbread. And, with the timing of the holiday what it is, the food and other fare is not only a Sunday thing. You also will find, not just food on Saturday but a 3 p.m. a performance that is Irish through-and-through by none other than the O’Briens, a local family group of operatic men who have done this for decades, with St. Paddy’s Day being a well-honed fixture that will find most other strictly vocal ensembles green with envy.
— Also having Irish fare, served mostly by fair Irish maidens, both Saturday and Sunday is the Bungalow Inn in Lakeland, and the food can be washed down with thematically based drinks that they are already well versed in making. But the Bungalow extends this weekend into a four-day holiday by again bringing in a veteran of their scene, who often plays their holiday shows, crooner Gary LaRue, for an early-evening-endeavor, to accompany dinner, that will be held in this case on the Tuesday following St. Patrick’s Day.
— The Beach Bar in Lakeland, moving to a state that has more of a Irish presence then Cheesehead country, will show it by not only doing what some others are and having Irish installments for food on both Saturday and Sunday, such as the loved CBC, but beyond the corned beef and cabbage there is a band whose name is dripping with ethnic ilk, The Flippin’ Finns. And they are on early on Sunday, at 2 p.m., which gives you the where-will-all to take in their whole musical show, and must-have food, and mostly stout drink, and anything else Irish, and still have the time to do the same at many of other places in the area that don’t really get rolling until around what would usually be time for supper.
— Green Mill may take the cake (green Irish frosting?), for the week-long longevity of their St. Patrick’s Day specials. They go through Sunday night, after starting with a slow roll-out through a week earlier. Noteworthy are dishes that dig a little deeper than the fodder you’re used to finding, such as mulligan stew, totally Irish stuff on flatbread to boot, and a “tini” drink special, basically a Shamrock-themed concoction stemming from the classic martini, that is anything but “teeny.” And the other drink specials? Many, but heading off the list is Irish Gold — like the pot at the end of the rainbow?
— You could possibly have afforded these Irish drink specials, come Sunday, even in a potato famine. At Postmark Grill the green beer is only $2, and even the Irish-based specialty drinks that are several and in many cases are hardily whiskey-driven, run no more than $4, with most prices in-between.
— At the Smilin’ Moose come St. Paddy’s Day, amidst all the other endeavors that include music and of course food, are free green bead strings being given out (don’t forget to show the comely server who gave you them some love).
— In the throes of St. Patrick’s Day weekend, on the in-between eve of Feb. 16, a folkish boogie woogie band, judging by their name, brings their barn dance style to a gig of that type at River Falls Academy. One of the last chances to catch those type of down-home stylings before the barn dance season ends, at about the same time as the wave of recent snows.

— Seasons Tavern in North Hudson for St. Patrick’s Day, early on in that day, presents a double dosage of taste. There is the regular corned beef and cabbage, of course, but added is an egg and hollandaise sauce, and sauerkraut for a nod to the local Germans, with some of these ingredients actually fried.
— The annual pub crawl leaves Kozy Korner and hits all the places in North Hudson starting around that 1 p.m. timing on Sunday. That could conceivably give you almost an hour at each, so you can walk the whiskey walk (gingerly and likely aided by 2 Gingers) of the Irish but good. There should be many others to join you, judging from the full-parking-lot-response Kozy got 48 hours earlier when showing a Badger basketball game as the postseason beckoned.

(For more facts and the fairly fictitious of the frozen, see this web site’s Notes from the Beat department).

Pamela Anderson may be sleek, but you’d still more likely catch her, much less have a conversation, on the St. Croix River than on a Greyound bus:
— Its been well over a year since the theater run of Baywatch, as in the movie version, evoking images of Pamela Anderson in her famous red swimsuit. (Reminds me very much of my Asian friend Pom, not Pam, who is even thinner and being of the same age also looks great in a bikini, but that’s another story). What you may not know is that in the bowels of this suddenly cold winter, we have something to look forward to come spring, as there’s a chance that you could see Pamela in that suit on the St. Croix River. Let me explain. Before she was a superstar, Pamela had come to know some local people and they did her taxes — and you think your returns are complicated, but also think about that as your W-2s come flowing through in the mail. A friendliness developed, and Pamela has made trips up here to The Great Northland to keep acquainted. Mainly, a such acquaintance Nate says he has taken her out on the town on some of those junctures, and everyone has treated her with Minnesota-Wisconsin Nice, not drooled over her as a celebrity. The fact that he downplayed such meetings gives credability to his “I know a Hollywood hottie” story. A sidelight: Nate for a while ran an across-the-various-local-clubs gig with his mechanical bull, and added that Pamela has said she would get on for the ride on the next time up. Urban Cowboy (or Cowgirl?) And Pamela Anderson vs. Debra Winger? You decide.
— Riding the Greyhound bus to hike a holiday trip is not what it used to be. In past days when going to Milwaukee on the cheap, when gas was high, meant you might have to actually sit next to someone and have a conversation — wanted or occasionally unwanted. And who would get the awkward result of your seating choice of whom to sit by, and inflict your attempt at wit? But now there is an equalizer: Social media devices (SMD), or as I’d call them, Significant Meddling Distractors (SMD). Let me explain. Going both to and fro I was parked next to a young adult who spent virtually the whole trip streaming shows on their SMD. And when walking to the bathroom — everyone was doing the same thing. Until the bus was in the station and the lights came on. While stumbling to the door of the bus, they then tried to engage a bit in the very conversation they were missing. Is that what any of your SMD heroes would do?
— Was this indeed four-score? Because of the cold, the number of participants was actually only four-boards worth in the annual, anniversary party bean-bag-tournament of Kozy Korner in North Hudson. Has it already been 11 years? Most of them with a full parking lot for this occasional activity. (Or should I say lawn on the side, snow allowing)?
— Just across the way, at Village Liquor in North Hudson the advertising sign was almost buried under the snow that had been plowed into a questionable space. How do you measure this? How about seeing only the top foot or so of the fire hydrant a few yards away.
— While we are used to seeing tipsy people outside of bars who are very underdressed for the weather, seeing a guy in a T-shirt outside of the Smilin’ Moose in Canada style cold was over the top as far as choice of top.
— What, you want to have more snow? I encountered a woman at the laundromat who was hauling a great big shibang of clothing, so I thought I’d get the door for her. Why was she in sort of a desperate need? With the temps as they are, her septic system froze up, so this is why she was there. So what does this have to do with snow? Despite recent snowfalls, there was a lack of consistent ground coverage that translated to her freeze-up. With that said, she and I joked about the fact that I myself was left unaware and was hauling washed stuff in a great big box, not a laundry basket. Better not to use a shoe box, I continued the metaphor, as that would only work with carrying a dozen or so socks.
— And HudsonWiNightlife is more than classic rock, hip hop and country. As they note, and we report, there was the calling of all traditional sweethearts, to the classic triple-headed jazz experience at the Squire House Gardens in Afton for Valentine’s Day, (which actually was held this past Saturday, not on V-Day itself, but the rave reviews of the jazz music continue on, so it’s still pertinent). That’s because they know what they’re doing, as this was their 22nd time around with this musical three-some extravaganza. And the fact that it was, so to speak, a three-some, means that maybe these traditional couples could continue onward to add some spark to their love life, after being so prompted. Just kidding, as HudsonWiNightlife loves a joke.
— In North Hudson as posted on Nextdoor. “A stay cat that has been hanging round since last summer. Very skittish.” Like that old band, The Stray Cats, just hanging around? How many decades since their singular breakthrough album, (yes its been so long I can use that term). Only the Stray Cats were not at all skittish, what with walking on a fence and chasin’ mice around …
— The ever popular Jenn of gorgeous dark locks is back serving at Green Mill and apparently happy to be “home,” after a hiatus working elsewhere for about two years, to continue a stretch that marked a tenure of what, more than a decade? Still unfazed after all these years.

How do you deal with it? Maybe take a spin through the newly fallen snow, or wipe the frost from the window so you can actually see that beautiful young lady waiting for you at the bar (although she’s probably bundled up and not in that mini skirt you were hoping to view).
— I couldn’t help but notice people doing half-wheelies, (hey it was slippery out there), when trekking through the parking lot at St. Patrick’s Church well after dark. How do I know this, was I one of them? And even though this would seem to be the realm of kids just getting their license, one was an SUV. A frustrated soccer mom who just needed to take a spin?
— In many bars, there were heavily frosted windows, even thicker than your drunken tongue, on the doors up to eye level. Hard to see what kind of a crowd is inside. In other places, there were electric marquee signs out, apparently because of the cold.
— And refuse service was cancelled midweek in the village. (So you know, you didn’t have to put the bins at the curb, in case you forgot, when getting back from last call). So, garbage in, garbage out? Not really.
— Why so late did the neighbor cross the road? To get the mail they forgot about earlier in the day, and/or retrieve their pooch. Considering the cold, we wish that neighbor’s dog could have been a St. Bernard. And other animals that were out late included a (night) owl that was a hoot with its calling, a whole bunch of birds trilling like they were a little tipsy, and a piliated woodpecker that considering his body size could probably hold his liquor better than, say, a downy.
— And from balmier climes, two phrases come to mind, when it was just over an hour away from Super Bowl time and the crowds were gathering at sports bars. “It’s got to be 5 O’Clock somewhere, (or more appropo, 4 O’Clock),” and “go North the rush is on.” The latter phrase is pertinent because in both the downtown and the village, in general terms, things were busier as you ventured to sports bars that were northward.