This is slightly embellished entertainment news of the weird from western Wisconsin and beyond, if you choose to believe it:
— Noticed that those pesky yellow pedestrian-crossing placards are back, looking like big bumble bees, at the midpoint of intersections in downtown Hudson and elsewhere? And have you noticed that they are covered with smudge marks from being struck by car bumpers? Well as far as that goes, local, state, federal, international, interplanetary and intergallactic law enforcement agencies have teamed together to mark the signs’ return by awarding the thousandth motorist to hit one with an honorary plaque that it should be noted is much smaller than the placards themselves.
— Now that same-sex marriage is legal in Minnesota, and that more and more pro athletes are coming out as being gay, I wonder if there will be far fewer athletes who are Vikings, Twins or Timberwolves making the same choice as quarterback Christian Ponder and running to the (Wisconsin) border and across to get married? And after all, isn’t that practice much the same as eloping, and does that count?
— The Zebra Mussels band was slated to play at Guv’s Place in Houlton, but even though they had to cancel, I was told there was a last-minute fill-in, sort of. Here’s how the story goes: You’ve heard that the exotic mussels were found on the barges that were to be part of construction of the new Stillwater bridge? Well they moved from the St. Croix River’s bottom muck and got into the Houlton water supply, then made their way a bit to the east — just far enough to clog the water pipes in the basement at Guv’s Place!
— Minnesota officials have moved their target of stepped-up holiday OWI patrolling from the highway to the St. Croix River, with the idea being to remove so many boaters from the waters that there would be no need to raise the lift bridge at frequent intervals and stall holiday (auto) traffic. That and so many of the temporarily stalled motorists were taking a desperate pee into the ever-pristine river that water quality was being eroded.
— Minnesota is considering a significant hike in its tax on wine, liquor and beer. That means that if you are a Hudsonite and want to patronize someplace like Woody’s in Bayport, you might end up paying a fair amount more. (When I was over there and asked to sign a form letter to Minnesota legislators, and give my city and state address, it was automatically assumed for me and had the letters “MN” typed in. Does this mean my vote would still count? Also, this measure would give Minnesotans yet another reason to run across the Wisconsin border to drink. That and the recent legislative proposal to allow off-sale of liquor in Minnesota on Sundays would change people’s patterns, and between the two considerations, Gopher State lawmakers say they are planning to take advantage by building a tax-free, liquor superstore right at the Lakeland exit.
— Speaking of superstores, one for outdoor and sporting goods is planned for Rogers, just north of the Twin Cities. The media over there has a history of mixing up and accidentally interchanging Rogers and Roberts, which of course is in Wisconsin. As big into the outdoors as people are in this area, it made big news, and of course they got the town where it is being built wrong again. So much so that construction was begun and all the footings laid before anyone caught the mistake!

(Editor’s note: The recommended events in the “Pick’s of the Week” department were given a new listing on Thursday night, May 16, and also Saturday morning).

Two women with strong local ties have a pair of friends who are prominent rock stars, are in their late-20s, moved to California when they were about 20 and at times have hung out in downtown Hudson nightclubs.
Allison is friends with Flea, the accomplished bassist for the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and got to know him through her even stronger friendship with the bassist for the group Fishbone.
When I first talked to Allison about this, Flea was in the news when he lost an expensive mansion to raging wildfires that hit California. He has also made headlines as the Chili Peppers were up for induction in the rock ‘n roll hall of fame. When the group performed in the Twin Cities earlier this year, the reviewer noted that it was Flea’s bass grooves that were the highlight of the show.
Allison says that she has had conversations with Flea and has “hung out” with him many times, but that she knows the other bassist much better. I have known Allison well for several years, and have always wanted to ask her if a line from the song Dani California might refer to her. (I know she would demurely deny it). The Chili Peppers — who again are from L.A. — in their lyrics are known for name-dropping, of states not people, and in Dani they sing about regret about not being able to make a planned road trip to the Twin Cities area.
The other focus of this story — and I at one time tried to no avail to get the two women together for a photo — is Taega. She is tight with multi-platinum artists such as Jermaine Jackson, former of the Jackson 5, and also Serge Tankian, Serbian frontman for the acclaimed heavy metal group System of a Down. Ironically, Taege knows prominent people who lost their homes in the aforementioned fire such as Flea, and even dated one of them some time ago. Still, Taege says she would rather talk about Jackson’s work with orphans in Iraq — which was prompted in part by a relationship with Helena who is Iranian — than about his fame. “He’s just Jermaine,” she also says demurely.
How Taega got to know these people, and that was some time ago before she got her college degree and moved on to bigger and better things, was working her way through school at Starbucks in Las Virgenes, a suburb of L.A. at the mouth of the Malibu Canyon.
“Jermaine is a really interesting guy; his girlfriend is amazing. In talking with him one afternoon at the store, we all ended up reminiscing on our favorite winters in the Midwest,” Taega said. “The most interesting part was that it took his girlfriend mentioning Wisconsin or (Upper) Michigan about six times before he realized what we were talking about. As soon as he did, he went into a story about someone in his childhood on a snowmobile.”
Also prominent regulars were Tito Jackson and Ernie Hudson.
“I used to see Jermaine, Tito and their girlfriends all the time, all over the city. I find it hilarious. Over the course of a weekend last summer, I saw Helena at The Rack shopping and Tito at Kerry’s Deli for dinner,” Taege said in an earlier interview.
“Aside from the Jacksons, I try not to really bother them — they’re just people too,” Taega said. “But honestly, each celebrity I have met throughout those six years has been remarkably kind. Serge has such a surprisingly quiet and mellow voice, considering his musical style. He seems to be a very, very, very kind and down-to-earth man.”
“I’ve been told that Britney Spears and boyfriend Kevin used to come in,” Taega said. “She would order for the two of them and make him drive around the parking lot, so as to prevent too many paparazzi photos.” This quote came from the height of her popularity.
“The celebrities who I actually missed and was disappointed that I did, were Gavin Rossdale and his baby son Kingston,” Taega said of the frontman for the rock group Bush and squeeze Gwen Stefani of No Doubt. “I never worked Friday nights, so of course, that would be the night he comes in. That was a seriously disappointing miss.”
“To be honest, most of the celebrities who were regulars at my store, or even just stopped in, often went unnoticed. One who didn’t really ‘act like a regular guy’ was Bruce Willis,” Taega said. ‘He walked through the store one day, just to use the restroom, waving and smiling at everyone in the lobby. No one cared. Why would we?”
And oh, there is one more local woman with a bassist friend, that being the one for the Smashing Pumpkins. Heidi, formerly a bartender at Dibbo’s, has known the other woman for years and says she would love getting on stage with her. I recall making a road trip to Milwaukee and seeing this very tall and leggy member of the Pumpkins in a prominent photograph in the arts and entertainment section of the Journal-Sentinel, right next to legendary singer Billy Corgin. The accompanying article made special note of the solo she had played the previous night.

What follows is the promised post mortem of very well-attended recent “outings.” They included the electricity calling it a night, and various events packed into a couple of weeks, with all forms of entertainment (and what would a “post-mortem” be without a report on a slew of metal bands).
— This is the third time now, in the last decade or two, that the power went out at a heavy bar rush time. The Village Inn in North Hudson was full to the brim when holding bingo, and needed to go across the main drag to Mama Maria’s to get a bunch of candles to keep calling. I guess the players, even though many are somewhat elderly, must have good eyesight. The past two times the electricity cut out at an inopportune time was on a weekend in downtown Hudson, and people then also coped nicely. Flaming rum drinks were made to create a brief moment of light. Bands at Dibbo’s went acoustic. A woman came back into Pudge’s after going to her car and asked, tongue-in-cheek, if anyone had “seen” her coat. And at a couple of other places, the clocks were stopped for a couple of hours at a time starting a ways before midnight before they and the power came on again, leaving people to wonder just exactly when bar close was to occur.
— My friend Abby and some of her friends and family celebrated a recent holiday at Woody’s in Bayport with some bowling — in tutu skirts. Abby said she was unaware of this dress requirement, or who even planned it, when she showed up, but her cohorts had her covered, as they’d brought an extra for her. Abby did say that the way the thing flared out around her hips made it difficult to bowl, just like it had been one time when she tried the sport while eight months pregnant. In both cases she was able to overcome, and post a respectable score.
The last time tutus got this much attention was when they were a theme for the Hot Air Affair ballooning event, and Dick’s Bar and Grill held a preview activity where everyone dressed accordingly. That included the bartenders, some of whom were otherwise manly guys. They consented to a photo, after I had told them — sincerely — that my editor wanted it for a deep-inside-the-newspaper special section. In other words, buried. Turns out my editor liked the photo so much that he put it on the front page! My sincere and ongoing apologies to the guys in one-time-only tights. And thank you for not cutting me off.
— All the night spots were filled on a weekend when a prestigious international tournament for youth hockey hit town, with bar culture meeting culture from the world over, as people mingled. It was noteworthy that the customer traffic that started early included a dearth of people on the dance floor, anywhere. One of my main bartender sources put it this way — we were hammered early, then things slowed for a while, followed by a “pop” in business along the rail, then steady for the rest of the night.
— Virtually the entire city of River Falls got into a weekend series of concerts in April that were folkish in style. While there were many venues and bars hosting, the one that stands out most was the one at the West Wind supper club, since it was the only Sunday night offering and still packed the place.
— Things got diverse when a fundraiser was held at Ellie’s on Main for a local humane society, with a lot of sponsorship from the Ugly Sister boutique next door. Those sisters must like to rock, because the offerings were a day of hardcore heavy metal bands, with diverse twists on their lineups, that set-up in a space where the dance floor — mosh pit? — once was. The event was organized by Alice, a longtime fan of such music going back to Decibel days at Dibbo’s. She got going with this by doing some intriguing on-the-spot video interviews to be put on the web site of band members she knew.
— Things were really hopping at Hefty’s in Bayport one recent weekday when Andersen Windows held their employee appreciation party. All hands were already on deck at 5 p.m. and the place was already getting full. It only got busier, in waves, as the night went on, as patrons were treated to a musical duo that included something you don’t often see, a woman on a violin.
— Early Saturday brought the start of the main fishing season, but there was another event that was unusually well attended, and I for one call taking in my aluminum cans for cash a legitimate event! The County Market parking lot saw so many people coming in to do so, that their oversize 10-foot-tall bin was full to the brim. What does this have to do with a nightlife web site? My unscientific poll, conducted merely by looking through the mesh, revealed that there were a lot more cans for beer than anything else like soda. On Wisconsin, for both recycling and tipping a brew!
— I was going to make a point of it to mention to Jeff, the one man band guy, and bartender and one of his cameo singers Amanda, the goings on of the last Earth Day. They both wore signature green shoes, an unplanned bit of matching I’m sure, to go with the green beer that was being offered for the day. I’m assured that it was not left over from St. Patrick’s Day, as that limited-time-only discount had long since gone the way of the snakes in Ireland.

Spring has finally sprung, and for a rundown on what to do to celebrate around the area, see the Picks of the Week department of this website. Then later this weekend, visit the home page of this site for a review of exactly what went down on both an action-packed Saturday and other events that were held late in April.

(Note: This web page to be updated on Thursday, complete with a review story on the Dibbo’s farewell party and a rundown on local April Fool’s Day pranks around the bar scene. I was occupied during the Easter holiday, but like the sign said for the Agave Kitchen: The Man has risen).

The end of an era in Hudson music will come on Saturday night, March 23, when Dibbo’s will hold a farewell party with the original members of Austin Healy taking the stage for the final time at the venerable nightclub. It has seen icons play everything from classic rock to metal, blues and country rock, to even hip hop, disco and ’80s pop.

The multi-story building is being purchased by a group of investors in the local Dabruzzi family, who plan to completely redo and convert it to a cafe in front, a banquet hall in back, and office space upstairs. However, it appears that live music at Dibbo’s has seen its last day.
Rumors of the change have been swirling for months, but manager Chuck McGee says that when they started becoming seriously considered in December and January, were still premature as nothing had been finalized. There were other considerations to be worked out, such as what if any contribution of funds the city of Hudson would make toward upgrading the old but historic building, and if the new owners would be required to create more parking spaces — a stipulation that in the past had stalled other expansion projects proposed by downtown nightclubs.
However, the handwriting was on the wall in January when the sound equipment was hauled out of the spacious back concert hall, which over the years had seen performances by the likes of 38 Special, Tommy Tutone, Blue Oyster Cult, Foghat, the instrumentalists of Twisted Sister, Firehouse, the Smithereens, Great White’s lead singer Jack Russell and even a quintet, with two drummers, of former band members who backed up heavy metal icons such as Ozzy Osbourne and the late Ronnie James Dio.
The volume churned out by that last crew was only topped by a four-band night of death metal, with surprising clarity and quality, that featured practitioners from the active New York scene and their counterparts who led an effort that was burgeoning in this region and often saw vigorous slam dancing.
And then, a few years back, came a night where fashion met blues, as professional models from the Twin Cities strutted down a catwalk that was brought in and positioned across the midst of the dance floor, followed by the music of up-and-coming guitarist Brandon Scott Sellner. The only thing was that amateur local models were invited to join in and stole the show from the pros as nearly 1,000 people watched.
But back to this Saturday, it’s Austin Healy, the reunited southern rock band that has played Dibbo’s many times over the years and now is the opening act for 38 Special. It’s the perfect act for the finale, and the song with which they will likely close, Freebird, is also a best choice, said McGee, who has been manager at Dibbo’s for about 25 years.
That other group, 38 Special, popped into Dibbo’s in downtown Hudson after playing a megaconcert with numerous bands in Somerset and heading home. The group that was performing that night is a name act in themselves, the Wetspots, and the Dibbo’s staff closed off the east balcony just for 38 Special and its crew. The idea was floated that members of 38 Special could get on stage and play a couple of songs, but the occasion was so long ago that no one could recall if they actually graced the stage or not.
Others have actually performed, some of them often. Tommy Tutone, who made the song “Jenny-867-5309” famous, would often stroll in with a guitar in hand, since he has parents who live in the Twin Cities and a musician friend, the late Jeff Johnson, who was a longtime Hudsonite and graced the national charts with the groups Supercell and Another Carnival.
When an annual festival he started was playing a park two blocks away and a thunderstorm hit, the two national bands that were scheduled to play made there way through the rain, gear in hand, and were invited to take the stage at Dibbo’s instead.
When Blue Oyster Cult played Dibbo’s, McGee closed down the front area afterwards and they just hung out and talked at length. “I have to admit this was the only time I’ve been starstruck by a band,” McGee said. “They are just iconic.”
Another band made their way to the stage after trekking here from Somerset, this time after playing OzzFest. The members of Twisted Sister joined the house band onstage, but it should be noted that their lead singer, Dee Snider, stayed in the tour bus outside and slept it off.
Before McGee’s time, when the drinking age was 21 in Minnesota and 18 here, there were the popular Tuesday Banana Nights, where a piece of the fruit would get you in for free. It helped that there was a grocery store just up the block, and the owner was a friend of the Dibbo’s management. The story goes that a local musician came up with the freebee idea.
In those days, on a slow night, there would be 500 patrons, but more typically up to 1,500 to listen to a deejay play music of that time. People disagree on the popular idea that the party often spilled out into the main street in front of the nightclub, some calling that an urban myth.
One thing everyone’s sure of, that the staff had to deal with, are the strange requests that some big name performers made for stuff to be waiting for them backstage. Most noteworthy among these contract “riders” were lots of sweat socks, stretchy ones, although beyond that the musicians didn’t specify what type.
“A lot of these requests were made by the staff, not the musicians,” McGee said, laughing. “I would negotiate with them, such as the number of pizzas they wanted us to bring in.”
One thing that was a certainty for at least one group to want was a specific kind of liquor, even if it meant running across town at the last minute, McGee recalls.
Contracts named specific types of food that were to be provided. “But a lot of times the bands didn’t even know what items were in the contracts, didn’t want to know and didn’t partake,” McGee said.
More difficult were the members of Firehouse and the different lineups of Foghat, who required folded beach towels, “nine of them not eight,” said McGee, again laughing.
Reality TV even hit Dibbo’s, when Henry Winkler and Tim Conway ended up playing some slot machines. Unfortunately, that part of the segment never aired.
Dibbo’s was made the most famous by the late Vic Fenner and his family, who bought it from Robert Means and added bands and a bigger stage to the mix of banquet hall offerings. It was at that time that the term “Dibbo’s” was coined, based on the way a nickname was mispronounced. Members of the family were traveling through the area from Superior, reputedly on their way through northwest Wisconsin to go to California although McGee discounts that, and legend has it landed in Hudson and decided to stay here.

Dinner theater is not meant to be edgy, since after all people are enjoying their meals, but the St. Croix Off Broadway Dinner Theatre walks the line between entertainment that at times pushes a limit and letting people savor their dessert.
Sounds a little like a bar and grill with live music that goes beyond pop standards.
So, when co-founder Jim Zimmerman wrote a play that was performed that had just a bit of rough language interspersed here and there, there were no real complaints, his wife and co-founder Jill Zimmerman said.
In the shows they choose, they do have to mind their P’s and Q’s. Even if they would want to tone some content down, in many cases there are agreements where production companies are required not to change even a single word of the original writing. Zimmerman notes that even The Odd Couple could be a bit racy.
In fact, Neil Simon has been notorious for sending out “spies” to ensure compliance, and one theater group Zimmerman knows even ended up with a veritable 20-year ban before they could do one of his works again, she said.
The shows are run by the Zimmerman married couple who pull out all the stops, and do most of the work themselves, to field professional productions with regionally renowned actors while on a tight budget. And they’ve found creative ways to accomplish their goals, while based out of an intimate setting at the Hudson House Grand Hotel.
Starting March 15 will be their most recent production, which gets heavily into music. Life Could Be a Dream is a “Doo Whop” music tribute that features some men who were banned from their high school prom and then enter a radio contest, falling in love along the way. Featured songs are Earth Angel, Unchained Melody and Only You.
The Zimmermans point out that their actors are professionals, and this is not amateur theater. “We draw (actors) from all over the Twin Cities and the St. Croix Valley,” she said.
An example is Fredrice Nord, who has performed in shows at the Phipps Center For the Arts in Hudson and has served on its board of directors.
A production at the theater, like band lineups, may have anywhere between two and many more actors, and there are a large run of quarterly shows arranged around the year’s four seasons. Zimmerman notes that the winter show won’t necessarily be a holiday-themed production.
“We try to pick plays that are known and that will grab people’s eyes,” Zimmerman said, adding that practical constraints keep them from doing a play like Oklahoma with its large and muscial cast.
Since this is theater that includes a meal, the productions chosen are usually on the lighthearted side, with a little fluff, comedy and farce. “We won’t be performing Twelve Angry Men,” Zimmerman said with a laugh.
But here they keep very busy. “We do pretty much everything ourselves, a little number of hands doing a lot of work,” Zimmerman said.
“We want to entertain people and give them a break from the everyday,” Zimmerman said. A lot of their patrons have become friends, and especially if they hold season tickets have joined former theater students and others they know as volunteer help, especially for things such as box office tasks. They will sometimes put on-contract some types of work, and usually do this to enlist a stage manager.
Jim is a theater professor at the University of Wisconsin-River Falls, and the couple has been working on these types of shows since high school.
The local theater has a policy where people are sought to be made comfortable by not requiring them to sit next to someone they do not know. (Although that could change somewhat if they eventually expand beyond their 140 seat capacity — to be more like the availability at Dibbo’s, to draw a local comparison).
Like some rock stars, in our region and otherwise, their actors often prefer to work in smaller, intimate settings. The seating is arranged in a semicircle around the stage, with some balcony seating.
The patrons also can chose items off a menu, rather than have a prescribed dish or two be the entree of the evening. “So they can be made-to-order. For instance I don’t like mushroom sauce with mine, so people can ask for that change. No problem,” Zimmerman said.
Orders are taken before the show, not during it, and the last round of activity before the curtain goes up at around 8 p.m. is a choice of dessert, which is served at intermission. Some regular patrons come at 6 p.m., so there is plenty of time to mingle and have appetizers.
Shows are Fridays and Saturdays through May 11, with the exception of the Easter weekend, with matinees on April 13, 20 and 27 and on May 11. There is a Stay And Play option that includes hotel reservations, dinner theatre and breakfast the next day for $176.95 — if you choose to explore the rest of Hudson’s nightlife. For tickets, call (715) 386-2394.

Jill Volkert of Hammond says her Winter Carnival involvement is more about volunteerism, and less about partying, although they have some fun while doing some good.
They’ll leave the partying to the Vulcans of St. Paul, the ones who run around the city in an old fire engine and stopping here and there for some ritualized cheer, being generally silly and living out the part of the mythological coming of spring.
Volkert was one of 16 women, all over age 21, who vied for the crown of Aurora, queen of the snows, and afterward was named one of her court’s princesses — which means nonstop volunteer appearences as an ambassador for the city of St. Paul. Her duty is to extend the reign of winter, and have some fun while fending off and dodging those nasty Vulcans.
In recent years, there have been a host of Winter Carnival representives from western Wisconsin, including at least one queen from Hudson and a woman who stepped into the coveted Klondike Kate role, noted for bowdiness, revelry and song. One reason so many western Wisconsin women are involved is the close connection with the royalty from the Twin Cities and the North Hudson Pepperfest, she said.
There is a three-month candidacy period for queen of the snows, where the women attend numerous volunteer events and are evaluated on poise, speaking ability, personality and how well they mingle with others, said Volkert, who is 31.
These events included those involving the St. Paul Jaycees, the Feed My Starving Children organization, a fashion show and many others. “We become good will ambassadors,” Volkert said.
For a ten-day period, the representatives made 70 appearences at places such as nursing homes and schools by day, and stayed at a hotel in St. Paul by night, Volkert said. They roamed St. Paul in style to conduct the volunteerism, and get in some revelry, from early in the morning to 11 p.m. without significant breaks. They queen and princesses need their beauty sleep, so they don’t linger at places doing various forms of volunteerism until its bar time. (The Vulcans might be different).
One of their most noteworth treks, Volkert said, was to visit a sick child at a cancer center and perform a knighting ceremony.
In the coming year, Volkert and others will make 300 such visits. “This is a reason why I became involved,” Volkert said.
They will attend a queens weekend, with participants from Minnesota, Wisconsin and Dakotas, and it is great to see the camaraderie, she said.
Soon there is a festival in Winnepeg, since that group traveled down here to support the Winter Carnival, and a Cherry Blossum Festival in Macon, Georgia. There will be dozens of other events to follow.
Volkert was named the princess of the north wind at a recent ceremony. (You would think that since she hails from western Wisconsin, she would be princess of the EAST wind).
There were 16 women running for queen of snows, and it was fun with friends and those who would become friends, Volkert said. She enjoyed putting smiles on the faces of all involved, whether they be other candidates, or those being served — all the time getting out the word as an ambassador.
In connection with the revelry that goes on, she will always have a prince or other bodyguard with her to “protect” her from the Vulcans. Volkert bristled a bit when asked if she’d ever been “smudged” on the cheek by one of the Vulcans, something they were notorious for doing at the Pepperfest before a lid was put on it. (Her answer was no).
The Winter Carnival is based on a scenario where the queen and her family favor the winter season, and the Vulcans champion the merits of fire and want to bring on spring. Hence the two sides spar for dramatic effect.
Volkert grew up in White Bear Lake and has lived in Hammond for a-year-and-a-half with her husband Bill and dog Oliver.

If you hang around Dick’s Bar at all, or some of the downtown haunts around it, you almost certainly know Bill Bergthold and his Asian wife Pom — arguable the most engaging, charismatic and powerful personalities you’ll meet, and fastly in love with playing the rock group the Scorpians on the jukebox.
As I’m sure you’d also know, even though Pom looks like a supermodel, they both are outgoing enough to mingle about a bit with their own groups of friends, often singularly, with Bill showing bold knowledge of European bands and other things, and Pom being a bit less pronounced when she greets you with hands folded across her chest in a typical Asian pose. But soon after midnight, they’ll reconvene with each other for a final time and return to their home in Roberts.
What you may not know is that when they get near Hudson while on training runs, they are preparing for grueling and successful distance events.
In my more than two decades as a local sportswriter, I’d always found that if I wanted an interesting take on the latest marathon run with local people involved, all I needed to do was ask Bill.
He in his own right is an accomplished athlete, in both marathoning where he posted an insane time in his first outing, and other endeavors such as the triple jump, in which he’s won a master’s national title. However, Bill’s hobby has been to vigorously keep track of, and research, the exploits of both World Class marathoners and at least one local, Ryan Meissen, whose level of success is only a notch below those of international fame.
After years of occasional conversations, it seems to me that Bill, who now is 50 and recently suffered an injury that ended his own running days, has if anything over time even stepped up his viewing of movies and reading of books on these people — with at least one of whom he’s actually been able to train.
They all share a similar secret to their success — an all-consuming drive to never give up while competing and to push themselves mercilessly — although if you told the usually somewhat brash Bill that you were putting him into that same ultra-competitive league, he’d likely blush for one of the first times in his life.
Bill’s wife, who goes by the name Pom since her given name when born in Thailand is nearly unpronouceable, is almost as old as Bill, but still thin and fit. She also trains hard, and is known for her conversation-starting ability to do deep knee bends — with only one foot on the floor and the other leg extended straight forward.
“She’s really taken off with the training, and has only 8 percent body fat on her 108 pounds. I guess I turned her into a training machine,” Bill said.
But it is the career of marathoner Steve Prefontaine, who had great success at the 1972 Olympics in Muenich and became one of the sport’s first true stars, that really gets his attention.
“He went to college in Oregon, which was a mecca for (marathoning). He showed that he was a force to be reckoned with even in high school,” Bill said, displaying his penchant for research. Prefontaine didn’t have a runner’s body or tons of athleticism. He just had super-human drive.
Bill was too young to ever have met Prefontaine — having attended Mankato (Minn.) State University in the late ’70s and early ’80s — although he would have loved a meet and greet.
“I was living vicariously through him, since as far as athletics I was just doing the triple jump at that point,” Bill said, adding that would not have been a good fit for also doing marathons. “At the time, I thought most distance runners were nut bags.”
Later, a very athletic aquaintance who worked at Northwest Airlines challenged him to a 10K, and some of that competitiveness showed through. “I simply couldn’t let him win.”
So, with just weeks before the showdown, Bill started running late Wednesday afternoons with the track squad leaders from St. Thomas University in the tWin Cities. “That only fueled the fire. They thought they’d leave me in the dust but found it amazing that I came back for a second week,” he said.
The result was that Bill was running 800 meters in less than 2-minutes, 20-seconds, and doing eight of them in a training session. “I beat (my initial challenger) by four minutes in my first 10K. Then I started enjoying it. I loved beating the Tommies and was amazed at what I was capable of.”
That was immediately followed by an appearence at the Rice Street mile in St. Paul by the then 38-year-old. He ran a 4:39 and was 12th overall among 90 contestants.
The focus at this point clearly had shifted away from triple jumping. It was time for a marathon in Chicago, and the Roberts man with only two running events under his belt had just 12 months to train.
The novice soon discovered that he had to select a “pace group” with which to begin the race, and without knowing what he’d gotten himself into, chose the 2-hour, 50-minute group. He would run with the big guns.
Until mile 21, he stuck with the unreasonably fast pace, then started feeling intense pain. It turned out Bill had a rare medical syndrome that made it feel like knitting needles were being stuck into his knee.
He started waving encouragement to women who were easing by him in an attempt to break 2:50, which would get them a berth in the Olympic trials.
The winner of the marathon also passed him at a record rate of speed as Bill was off-pace for the final mile. Still, his 2:52 placed him near the top. “It was a ridiculous goal,” he said.
“I didn’t care about the pain, and just fought threw it. I found out later that it’s not supposed to hurt that much,” he said, adding that he managed to avoid surgery by taking nine months off.
Bill then began logging 84 miles a week, with one “wicked” training session every seven days, although he’s proudest of some performances at shorter distances then marathons.
Some of the training sessions around the byways of western St. Croix County were with Meissen, a Hudson man who for years blew away virtually everyone in the region and was racing at near Olympic caliber. The two runners first talked about the take-no-prisoners mental aspect of racing over a beer at a Hudson bar.
They conversed about Meissen being a favorite at the Rice Street mile, where he’d possessed the record for years. “He said that someone may beat me, but they’ll have to bleed to get by me,” Bill recalls, adding that phrase became burned into his consciousness.
Prefontiane might have said the same thing. At a given moment, a competitor would need to push themselves to the point of a heart attack to pass, Prefontaine was noted for quipping.
“Meissen is a fun guy, but he can be wickedly serious,” Bill understated.
In 2010, it was back to the triple jump, as Bill won the event at the USA track and field master’s in Boston. He did several types of training for 18 months to win at nationals, which included “40-inch box jumps” to get his vertical leap back to 30 inches. At had been at that 40-inch level.
He first thought he was edged out and had only taken second.
“I was sitting in the chair with a medal around my neck, after going upstairs to get the silver. Then I was told I’d gotten first,” Bill said.
He had another injury recently, one which he could not beat. His right Achille’s heal was ruptured, and even afterwards, left a lot of scar tissue. “So my running is dead in the water. It’s killing me. I love to train.”
In retrospect, Bill said he could have iced it more thoroughly, but it’s not like him to baby his body.
These days, wife Pom is leaving him in her wake. “Now my goal is just to walk without a limp,” he said.
Now that he’s no longer racing, one other thing is different. Bill for a change did not actively monitoring the Olympics and its running events — although in a different twist from the events that usually get his attention, he said there’s one U.S. sprinter to watch out for.

Seen late last Monday night during the holiday, all within a few minutes of getting downtown: Women in very short black dresses and no coats and at least one guy sporting a short-sleeve polo shirt, despite sub-zero temperatures; A woman eating popcorn in an accidentally sexy and open mouthed way; actual stolen coats and accusations of other stolen coats; guys holding each other up to keep from falling, with arms wrapped around one another as they skipped merrily along; a busy bartender saying she needed to make time to pee (good luck with that); a tiny T-shirt that had been used to wipe up some spilled beer, then was left laying on the floor; a woman who was asked to push onward through the crowd, despite having big “2013” glasses obstructing her view; an idiot guy I did not know, who was wearing even bigger glasses, asking me to stop following him (I have no idea what that was about, and he’s telling me I’M the creepy one?); much more blocking of doorways than you normally see by people who come out once a year and don’t know how to party in a respectable way; and finally, little girls who push through such clogged areas with the strength of an Adrian Peterson, simply because they’re hot and they can get away with it.
Welcome to yet another New Year’s Eve.
There were some astute things going on, however. For example the all-night chess session at Dibbo’s (how many games can you squeeze in by about 5 a.m.?) and the debate in the back room in the wee hours over which “Phantom of the Opera” was best done.
And some interesting conversation: After having spent $5 on a cover charge _- in the Twin Cities of course, not here — a friend of mine said there are two possible but opposite ways to be a fiscally responsible drinker, (1) don’t buy anything additional that’s more than you have to, and (2) buy a whole bunch of drinks to get you money’s worth. Once hearing that gem, I felt I had to respond with something at least partially witty, if not my own intellectual property. I ventured onto the very crowded dance floor at Dick’s Bar and Grill and told my friend, “If you don’t see me by the time of the Packer-Viking game, call National Camera Exchange.”
After venturing through what seemed like miles of swaying arms and no cameras in sight, I encountered pizza king Rich, with plenty of hot dogs and hot sandwiches in sight. He was stationed in the back restaurant area, and since it was around 2 a.m., said there at this point were only two types of people left: Those who need to go home, or those who are too blitzed to get there. Rich, also a part-time standup comedian, agreed that now as the night waned, he could probably get away with using a pen to make two slashes and change the $3 charge into $8 for his best sandwich, and no one would know the difference.