A weekend without the one-man-band is withdrawal. So instead view holiday lights that are never turned off, especially those fit-for-NYE, all-night disco balls!
— And then it came to pass, there was to be three weekends without a Sunday Jeff Loven performance at Dick’s because of the timing of the holidays. Thus it was the Night Before Christmas (actually a week before) and it would have to last until well into January, for this local hiatus, the first consecutive weekends missed at Dick’s in more than a decade by the singer-guitarist. And on this (holy) night he doubled up on same-wording, street-rod lingo for names of the toy cars by two different designers given away on two of his three nightly trivia contests. They had just the right similar, manly tone, (pete and repeat)?
— And it also came to pass, as each then went home to his own “country” after bar closing, that there still were houses that had their Christmas tree lights on not all YEAR long, like the song by that Redneck country woman, but all NIGHT long. Looking wonderful into the wee hours.
— Behind the bar at Pudge’s saloon and eatery, there sits a full-blown Nativity stable, a dozen pieces in all (that includes the animals), not exactly the kind of Xmas merriment you’d expect to find at a tavern.
— In a front yard in Bayport, there are several disco balls that smack of New Year’s Eve — compounded by a couple more in the center of town — and the display of a neighbor one house down made reference to another holiday classic, Snoopy riding his doghouse, complete with rotating propellers.
— I wanted to buy a gift to reward such holiday cheer, but I was fearful that the “virtual” gift card I saw advertised might not exist at all.
— And out and about immediately after Christmas, in the proper colors for the season, were patrons with both red and green hair. They should get a gift for being so bold.
— A pair of bell ringers were challenging each other to push themselves beyond their limits, as it was late at night. One said to the other, can you ring that thing a little more often?!? So much for holiday cheer. For that, they should have been standing outside Stone Tap, which has a couple of beer kegs (I’m assuming they’re empty) flanking their door and filled with holiday greenery. The ones who placed them there (did they indulge first?) might want to heed the signs every few miles, to the point of annoyance, along Interstate 94 that are hawking the benefits of having holiday cheer while still sober.
— A woman I met at the bar said that the next day, she actually was going home to Pennsylvania (and we assume some homemade pumpkin pie).
— Just prior, she might have come back to one of two very-late-in-the-season ugly sweater contests at local haunts. They were on the 22nd and 23rd. Last chance to dress down before you dress up?
— I wished one of my bartender friends, Happy Hanukkha, and then added two things: (1) If I am not Jewish, can I get away with saying that? and (2) I am actually a Closet Jew, but hadn’t told anyone — but isn’t that status the reason for being in the closet?
— But now on to that other staple of the season — football victories. A woman came into Pudge’s over the weekend shortly before closing and asked the bartender, “have you seen two drunk guys wearing Viking jerseys?” There’s lots of competition for that answer. Like when I was two houses down from my house on Cherry Circle North and saw a guy, who appeared to be staggering, make an apparent attempt to thumb a ride. Hitchhiking through a small cul-de-sac?
— But the Viking-Packer contest was not the only game in town. Ohio State football was on tap at Buffalo Wild Wings, and flanking a woman friend were two men who just couldn’t stop talking about the Buckeyes, (which is unusual for Wisconsin!) And she herself was wearing a Disney theme park sweatshirt, (wouldn’t you think Florida Gators?) Then while away for the holidays, my traveling partner, who is a Viking fan through and through, also found herself flanked, by a pair of enemy Packers backers, one of whom noted the initial NFL had a team in the enemy state, that being the Duluth nearly-dozen (I believe they were officially called the Bulldogs). Separate, but related: OSU vs. Wisconsin was on the tube at 4 p.m. (or wait, that was basketball). The football game was advertised as being at 8 p.m. (or wait, that was Eastern time). So the actual gametime, in Central time, was 7 p.m. (in media sports schedules, is using Central time going the way of the metric system?) The producers of a recent Carol Burnett remembrance might think so, as they had the star of their show note in her trademark farewell that it was going through a certain hour before they’d have to say “so long,” but this was actually off an hour because it took into account Eastern time.
Hark the Herald angels sing, and there were hundreds of the Heavenly host, to be like a mega-orchestra, not just the one-man-band
Share the Post:
Related Posts
- PandaBoost — Boost Your Asset on DEX Screener, DEXTools, Phantom & Tools
PandaBoost Boosts Your Token Across Key Blockchain Markets Getting noticed in the Web3 arena demands more than a strong idea. Participants browse through hundreds of assets per session, and most never hit the list. PandaBoost puts your asset where eyes genuinely go — trending tabs on DEX Screener, DEXTools, Phantom platform, and terminal screens relied on by serious DeFi participants. What PandaBoost Delivers for Your Token PandaBoost generates genuine swaps to your token. The service generates purchase transactions that move your coin into active algorithms. DEX Screener and DEXTools order pairs by current activity, and PandaBoost sends precisely that signal....
- Stressed out as a caregiver? She’s back at yah. This is a rare case of a husband and wife being joint caregivers — for each other — aided and abbetted by the fact that they have a lot of the same disabling conditions. So she shovels snow using a walker/scooter, while he cooks gingerly using a microwave and offers her a plate when she sits down, in an easy chair, in a reversal and new take on traditional roles. Whatever it takes. Necessity is the mother of invention.
A few years back, I wrote an article about Hudson Deacon Tom Kroll and how he did so many extra dutiful tasks, his living out the Gospels tirelessly, when his wife was ill, in addition to his regular job. I was inspired at the time to pen this, about my own lovely, disabled wife — we were separated briefly but now back together with our 40th anniversary this month, as wholehearted caregiving has many strains — and how an atypical view of standard roles, out of necessity, made things work, as far as our approach to work and home that’s...
- He says, and goes fishing with the boys. She says, then goes to the middle of Texas, inviting her mates to a ranch/villa built for the ages. The bachelor and bachelorette parties were on the same night, but though very different, they had some things in common … like the snakes, at least three kinds, to avoid. (None with exotic dancer.) But while away, they did not avoid each other, completely. He made a phone call. —– Just added, last call included a Carolina cowpoke.
What do fishing, maybe in the dark, thus a Texas ranch, snakes of various types and do they come or stay out after dusk, eating either and only fine food or snacks, and a game of cards — likely just one each — have in common. And no strippers or Chippendales. And an only half or quarter, not full Monty. (Who is Monty anyway?) Or cowboy or cowgirl hats. Although there was some dress-up. More Barbie than boots on, I think. It’s an easy answer, connected and conflicting, but not in all or dirty ways, bachelor and bachelorette parties. One of each...
- Full metal jacket? Hey, I wasn’t exactly to the point of going Rob Halford. But tastes aside, there must be some reason why after 26 years I was shunned, like going Bob Daisley by Ozzy at his reunion? OK, I know, my style may not have fit with the packed crowd. And the last couple of times for this, I tried to do too much with ad-libbing. So yeah, I get that this time around, I was the somewhat unusual choice to be the one left off the set list, with singers clamoring to get up there. But seriously, just being analytical of strengths and weaknesses as a singer here, no hard feelings. I’m not Dio. (Or Traveling Wilburys, a when jumping inside, inside joke.)
It was clear to me at the most recent Jeff Loven music show in Hudson, for Memorial Day weekend, that there has been a changing of the guard. The sword has been passed. New blood, like Yungblud, has been brought in. And, I must say, loyalty — amongst the devotees who travel frequently and all across the two-state area to virtually all of Jeff’s shows — has been rewarded. They are the royalty, in what just makes good business sense that I can appreciate. In a significant but not unprecedented altering of course, I was not one of those asked...
- Songs by Napalm Death? A fire swept down my very street today, where the babies were burned. (But alas, a new A/C unit is on its way up the freeway.) The Stones did not leave these themes unturned, either, or should I say unrolled. Oh wait, this all was my cooker of an apartment, and we are not talking the kitchen. But all these matters will become more pressing, a pressure point, as the new normal especially in southern climes is temp well into the triple digits. It is these people, the third world, and their heat stroke not mine, that most concern me. (Another example of hellfire temps just added. Sin after Sin.)
Trial by fire. My broiling heart in my efficiency flat still beats a bit, in concern over those boiling over in worse apartments in a Chicago tenancy, or on an ocean island instantly-burn-your-feet beach or dessert, or forced to endure ice baths just to keep cool — or simply be offered no way to maintain an ice-dripping body other than also read a non-cookbook at the library, or select not a big steak you can’t afford but a 73/27 burger from a freezer and slap it on your forehead. Just not too hard. All these things are ones where you especially today either burn or...
- I had a dream … And out of it (re)sprouted an ancient spring fertility rite to save the world, or at least my apartment building, or at least my second story window, from a giant lizard peering in, out at T-Rex days of yore. This ritual requires copious amounts of consumption and goes from there to hobbits and lords who are not yet a-leaping, for reasons to be retold in this fanciful, twisted tale (of fiction?) Just watch the use of Why! The letter, that is. And try to catch on to the inside jokes. (Psst. Another tale inside. Or two.)
This is a truly awfuI, twisted tale of villains and heroes, powerful ale if used carefully, giant beasties and smaller hobbyts, but also renewal and redemption. I will ascrybe to an ancient rytual, back to when the tyme gyant lyzyrds peered into second story wyndows of apartment byldings and no amount of walls could keep them out of such urban non-placated places, save this practice that annually, about this tyme of three-day holiday, would save humanity for another year. So in this spryng fertility ryte, go consume copious quantities of hunhy grhym cr’krz and jinjer biyr, deprived of its alcohol as worshippers need to be sober-headed...