— Along the lines of inexpensive beer, (see below), there is a $2 special at Seasons Tavern in North Hudson on select brands, during the football season through the playoffs. And there is one other option, but you might, (or might not), have to hurry. The special also is good during Brewer playoff games, and since their current series in tied at three, now could be the time. The deciding game is tonight (Saturday) at 7:30 p.m. And we don’t want to throw cold water on it, (rather cold beer), but if they move on, you could even indulge in it a couple of more times.
More inexpensive beer! After all, this is in part a celebration of Brew City, baseball-wise
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- 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 they did not avoid each other, completely. He made a phone call …
What do fishing, a Texas ranch, snakes of various types, eating either and only fine food or snacks, and a game of cards — likely just one — have in common. And no strippers or Chippendales. Or cowboy or cowgirl hats. Although there was some dress up. It’s an easy answer, connected and conflicting, but not in all or dirty ways, bachelor and bachelorette parties. One of each on the same day. (Or night). So obviously, you can only go to one. Even if they have the same starting time. Go fish. Not if you don’t have a license(s). Or call it...
- 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.)
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- And musings moreover —– To skate or not to skate? Not on most Hudson streets and sidewalks, you don’t. Even though most users I’ve encountered have been courteous and safe — saying ‘on right’ as they go by on a fairly busy sidewalk, and not just barely edging past you — the city council in essance banned the usage last fall. I think this goes too far in what amounts to dare I say it, big brother-type stringency. I prefer a more ‘urban’ style ambiance, with a Twin Cities type of bustle. (For what of that is to be found, come Friday, ‘jump’ inside. That post now updated, for more weekend options.) I now start with a joke.
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