It’s Game Day in the beer and brat (and Milwaukee Burger) and Badger State, broadly speaking. But these are the pros we’re talking now, and you want to drink like a pro — not to Pack it in or to void-out the past 3-2 version Viking vibe — although those at UW are darn close to being far more than amateurs when imbiding. Then have enough money leftover, after you’ve paid your sports bar tab — and you know you’ll have one — to contribute in a meager way to salary cap considerations?!?

There is that 48-ounce Coors Light pitcher you can get at Green Mill, in Hudson and westwardly, during pro football games for $8.99. But just how does that stack up against the infinite number of places offering their bucket-of-beer-bottles special? (It may depend on what brew brand you desire, and they usually are a few of the main domestics, that come at differing prices, though usually only a slight variation, and you may be able to pair it and make it a combo, like that pool you may be shooting during halftime. Usually these are 12-ounce bottles, not the cans that can ramp it up to 16 ounces — or taps that often go up to 20 ounces. And you may or may not have to factor in tax. That’s a couple of paid ounces right there. And the pitcher is only a single tip …) But the server is at your table and this is a football Sunday, so she’s busy and you don’t want to make her wait in the wings, as she has plenty of them to serve, while you micro-calculate the best deal, and so get better service the next Sunday or other Game Day you are in, and you know you will do that at a favorite haunt or maybe two. So we at HudsonWiNightlife just did the math for you!

So here is a breakdown, and I must say I was a little surprised: If you go for the usual five bottles — possibly six once in a great while — and this may or may not be the Hotel California-ish “pink champagne on ice,” you are looking at a base rate of between $14 and maybe $20, and most prices are in the middle. Thus the best deal, all things considered, is this, measured by ounce and/or bottle: The Green Mill special comes in at, give or take a penny or two, 18 cents per ounce or $2.25 a bottle, as the best price. That number, and not on a jersey, of a $14 bucket at low-end sports bars, weighs in at about $2.80 a bottle, and if upwards, that being $18, you are looking at around $3.60 per bottle.

A secondary consideration, and this can be viewed more than one way, is that the Green Mill-type pitcher special equates to four bottles of beer. If you get the second pitcher, that amps it up to eight. You even if tipping a few can do the math: Five versus eight versus 10 bottles or its equivalent — that’s if you go with a second bucket round. So during pregame before you hit the sports bar, assess ahead what your party’s need happens to be. Don’t rely on reassessing at halftime. I have been told by favorite servers that people can lose track while in the moment, especially if it’s a great and close game — thus can you say overtime? — and drop a hundred or two on Any Given Sunday. So really, plan ahead and avoid looking at the void in your wallet come Monday morning. Or when drunk-dialing earlier in the a.m. So you can borrow money to get through Tuesday into Friday, (but wait, I only get paid every other week!)

Psst. Sometimes we go Badger Red with such specials. Relatedly: Saturday Night Football on ABC TV in some past years has been pre-empted by Spring Cup Series NASCAR and the World Series; those various responsibilities being shared by versions of ESPN (times 2), with those entities showing football owned by Walt Disney Co. So, so many layers. As this ain’t no Mickey Mouse. But moreso Madison. Conjure up Camp Randall.

As a followup, I must finally — as I’ve been readily checking in on Rodgers’ reaching-beyond-regionally rehab — post this little bit. Just after the non-trade but signing of the century, or at least the last decade, there was this now, not so little ol’ bar in the Milwaukee area that gained notice for the following offering. On days when the right number of points were scored, or yards applied to get to that — OK it actually was whether the pro football Jets won or loss — they’d pick up your bar tab. Apparently the whole thing! I think there was a proviso that you had to be there for the whole game which, wait, could mean you’d pick up, or they would for you, a bigger tab. I ponder if the offer so went down when Aaron and his Achille’s went asunder. First game. So that was the best chance to save your dough.
So if the local football specials currently listed in the Picks of the Week department aren’t enough, and you might be reminded by that metal Bulleit sign on the wall with its E before I, trek to the Brew City area and say hello to my mom and dad and brother and family while down there. (It was mom, a mostly non-fan it should be noted so not at a sports bar, who informed me of the injury to the star QB now with a new team. She said, and I should not quote her on this, that she thought it was his ACL, not his Achille’s. Close enough. Both are part of the (lower) leg. Or as Vince Lombardi so famously quipped, “The knee always the knee.” Except when its your heel.)

When the recent drops were only dribbles as people came and left County Market, no one was that concerned about the late-season dampness, but then the droplets became much more many, and how people dealt with it was determined by their clothing style. Its thickness and breadth of course, was the baromoter. Don’t forget the zipper.

A guy opened up to me and said, yup it may not be winter yet, so I coulda used that stemmed umbrella that I’d stowed at home, think in the garage. I added one word to him that told his tale too: December. It’s coming. So parkas. Your ‘brella might be by your closeted boots.
I being thus-prompted, as a woman happened by, passing by the on-special pumpkin bins with umbrella, then started the discourse between us — or she I? — with call and response, and it was much the same and well received. But not November Rain. That would be, if not then in snow form, in a couple of days. Maybe Purple Rain.
Third, a man came alongside me and paused, then spoke: “You have to work on your friend-making technique.” Seriously, was I that bad?!? And I wouldn’t have said anything if her umbrella had not unfolded right in front of me, when she was by a last display of flowers. And that unit from the woman before her, thus unfurled. Like those on a few guys still wearing shorts. The long form of these days. Extra pockets add added warmth.

— A singer I know says he is affected by the change in Daylight Savings Time like perhaps no other. Except when he gets it all out on stage when covering Sinatra, though the encore might be a couple of beats off and cut short. My germaine German family? No such notice.

But I must say, on Sunday, even though not a work day and having no set appointments, I found myself way thrown off by small matters of timing, starting with the going-on of football — just what hour is noon? I was on the phone with a — pajama-and-footies-clad as she told me — friend who signed off of our call since kickoff was fast approaching, but wait it was only 10:55! Not even a coin toss yet.

The rest of the day was better, as I thought I got in a full 90 extra minutes of work, not 60, but I still felt not on my best game. Like a QB being blitzed by all 11. Quick, what to do when a nose tackle comes at you? (But at a bad angle, so there is hope to side-step his big sorry butt.) I found myself often looking at the clock on the wall, and it says its 3 O’Clock — more than once? My routine of a two-hours-into-the-day constitutional, then trying to be slated for another two later, caffeine actually, felt like I just couldn’t get that timing right. And later, screw getting sleep meds timed well. So again, OCD anyone?

Across the way at the Hudson Public Library, which also houses the local police department, and is run by city crews actually, on Monday night the doors were kept closed and locked an hour ahead of time. Reason: Apparently no one in Hudson municipal government got the memo, about the time change, and thus put the doors on a different timing cycle. On Tuesday night, these same doors were kept propped open with wooden wedges from 7 p.m. to 8. They say it this way: “Where books are just the beginning.” OK. An OT locksmith probably could be used as well. —

Then a style foible, much like seen on a side street, where we go past the typical Michael Jackson one glove, and even the even harder to understand one tennis shoe, (how could someone not know you were missing it), and enters in the singular little black baby-or-just-bigger boot and a mere finger laying about, from a lime and olive glove.
There also has been seen a lone kiddo again glove, like a six-year-old would wear. After hours near bar time? Nearby, this white and blue, minus the red, glove also was roughed-edged, and it said, “Ruf flex Lite L.” Not Ice T.

Midstream, when outside County Market, the rains came more and more. Which way angled the walkers with their grocery goods? Using what aisle to get to their cars, far or near making a difference, changing their speed? Pace cars, picking up.
There could be a grocery bag or page of paper held over a head to block the wet? No, they are mostly hatless. No ear muffs yet. And coupon sheets were not quite 8-by-11.
But what was laid around their shoulders told the tale. It was not so cold that what’s around the waist, was not wasteage. And was that sweatshirt zipped up? And their cuffs folded over?
Down in falls comes the rain, first there are the sweatshirts, those people walking along with no sense of urgency, but no plastic coverings, just two kids in T-shirts who late were lukewarm to the lapping rain. Just strolling a bit. Before were the hoodies that brought a barely midstream response to the moisture coming down. Most had the necks puffed up, putting not much sprite in their steps.

This was my favorite costume pairing on a Halloween where many of the shops between party places were really decked out with gnarly and not so much pretty antiques: An older man dressed in thick, striped prison inmate garb who also had pulled over its top a Wisconsin Badger red, not black and white, jacket. Related?

Two blocks up, a longtime antique shop featured a pair, again with the theme, of white ceramic dogs — not Led Zeppelin’s Black Dog — wearing tinseled necklaces, so to speak. They are facing each other, in an about face. A duo of dogs of doom, or hounds of hell, another time musically referenced?

— You’ll want to chat ’em up! I saw this flyer in of all places downtown Hudson on the sidewalk right outside the Cream of the Crop art gallery, and it was on their window too, around the time said exhibit opened in early October, running regularly from 6-9 p.m. To wit: Its called Beyond the binary, drawing power from androgyny. These are new drawings by CL Martin, (with smirk), and there is artist talk tonight, as an added perk. Its all at Supercharged Printmakers Studio & Casket Arts in a suite on 17th Ave NE across the way in Minneapolis. —

Another sort of pairing — “but wait now there’s two!” — this time while serving deadly, diabolical drinks to non-diners: A couple of servers, working only blocks apart, Laine and Lexi, lol as far as their letters, both wore tastefully well-strung-together corsets, one black in color and the other white. A toned theme here? Hundreds carried on with such tints at The Moose, too.
Worn on the Ziggy’s coworker of the first one, going as a bright white ghoul, I recognized her tied-up-high blond locks, bunched on each side of her head, but that was about it. Others too did not immediately know who they were beholding, so stop in more often? Is she true Type O Negative, with the long streaks of fake blood over her face and neck? And it only took her an hour to get ready, she said. That’s professionalism.
A vampire, also a bartender on a previous night, put up with a bad joke on my part: “I’d love to have you suck my blood, but I’ve met too many vampires tonight, so I’m fresh out.”
A man dressed as a superhero was asked, by me, jokingly, if those of his type never have to pay for their drinks? “Never,” he said, lol.
Also funny, if unintentionally, was a trio’s twist on what you’d wear at the cop shop. The lead “officer” wore Aussie gear and sitting next to her was another “inmate” in the typical orange jumpsuit, and also with a hat, his of a sports team. “Pirates” to go into lockup, or lockdown, Depp into the deep? A more typical-looking police officer brought up the rear.
The coolest character, outside, was Gumby in green, his T-shirt short-sleeve. That was a newer turn, on the floor, rather than so many flapper dancers on The Moose sidewalk.
The downtown had shown off, often, off-white although not quite oblong pumpkins, or could they be gourds, as to borrow a marketing catch phrase, you are gourd-eous, although in evil makeup. Even she said that the other fright night. But we have just recently seen yellow pumpkins, too. And on all kinds of different fronts, there has been flashy orange on a black background, the Halloween colors beheld.
At a different party, was a woman as a rocker, and not Joan Jett, although that was one she referenced. I thought Slash, with stovetop hat about two inches shorter — although she nixed that — or Alice Cooper, who was shown again on the back of her coat. And a magician she follows, and why do I want to say Serengeti?
I did get into gear myself, going as what I called a bad rooster, such pictured with a green crest that was actually a glove, deformed since I was in an evil persona, but held in place to a degree with bent metal. Wire hangers? On my face, a bit of toothpaste, which I wanted to make into a set of cheeky arrows, but they smudged way too much.
All to give candy to the trick-and-treaters who passed by my patio. I found I had to explain what was wearing to those dressed … normally as this was early … to the point where if I saw an adult sans child coming by, turned my back and my face under my collar, then walking away.
So this puts the wraps on Halloween, in these pages. Hope you had some scary fun, whether like me on the prior Thursday or Saturday, or Tuesday … or even on Monday for the second party for this holiday at Dick’s Bar and Grill, with the ’80s the first theme. They started doing this there all the Mondays of the month of October, and these were the spooky themes: Dracula’s veiled Vampire vigil, Beyond the grave with the Mummy, Frankenstein’s monster mash, and lastly the Wolfman’s haunted howl.

So you plan to go trick-or-treating tonight in the south-to-north blocks that extend from, the stoplights at Vine Street in the area near the downtown all the way to the spotlights halfway to Lake Mallalieu. In the main Victorian era area, historically speaking, thus springing from town. And we all know the kids of gothic things those oldsters were into.

There are various bends and sidestreets that can be taken to lumber along that way, and here are some of the just slightly awful takes on frights you might see, even if the night brings them in veiled form, as Daylight Savings Time again did you a favor.

On the Second Street jog, see all those pink flamingos in front of a newly pink-silled house. With such colored chairs on the broad front patio too, maybe giving out treats. And don’t forget their angels, even if you are in slightly evil costumes. All these were just added to a house that a long time ago had been converted to four, count em, apartments and given a makeover at the height of the Barbie craze.
This is Halloween-themed since it’s now in the same color scheme as another newly-decked-out house just two blocks up to the (icy) north — known as the Goth Castle, but madeover just before its nearly neighbor did in its twist of the new pink bold, to the point of being shocking. One wonders what wonderful wonders await those going to this year’s (invite only?) Halloween party, where one conceivably could be cool even if that older-ad, white-haired version of Ken, shown in the movie. The new digs are called Barbiecore, a sign on the front porch says so, rather than the possibly former metalcore. There are still many gingling green, what-look-like big teeth, hanging on a rope over the porch. Owner Brooke Fleetwood was shown in the local newspaper that is my new colleague looking much like a pop diva and posing next to a ready-for-prime-time pink sorta pickup truck. There is a like colored bus also, and lamp-post of the same. A national cable TV channel or two had even recently chatted about such an extreme, but elsewhere, Barbie dream house. This one had, in past parties, reminded just a little of Tom Cruise in his Eyes Wide Shut flick.

Of course, on Halloween eve, the nearby historic Third Street district is all-in and all-it for treat-or-treating, catering to hoards.
The local police will have some of the area streets basically a bit barricaded, but not going so far as to bar trick-or-treaters in the form of a blockade. Rather, it will be in the form of no parking on much of Third Street between 5-9 p.m. But overnight on the last two evenings, all kinds of creepy creatures made their appearance, many large in size and often in the form of big over-inflatables.

Heading over that way …
Even a stark wall can have appeal on this holiday, and what prey tell is lurking behind it, especially if it is long and tall — like across the main drag and just to the south of the hot pink. Or not that high but running the length of a long driveway. Maybe just a basic building, like the ones often seen at the end of a creepy block, that are slate gray with a Deep Purple tint, simply put.
Or three churches spires lined up as one, across barely two blocks, (and then there are two more atop bed and breakfasts). They grow more steep as you walk along this way, but in which direction? And varying bands in their width, spindly mixed with girth, make (gothically organ?) themed music on this given night, all of souls and saints and other sodden actors. Primped up in the many historic Victorian houses for this occasion.
Here and there, but not everywhere, are fast browning and thus getting gnarly gardens and their plants, with spur-like things, creeping outward everywhere, high and sideways, big flowered heads with bitty edges becoming burnt red for the occasion, with their only pedals tiny balls.
On burning bushes a bit beyond are hell-fire red budding leaves, and even berries underlying still green foliage.
Chairs set in place, midstream, out on patios were in threes, not twos, and one noteworthy trio was in bright red — could have been metal man Ronnie James Dio sitting at the left hand of the devil; OK that’s a myth on this mythological holiday, as Dio wasn’t really this evil old guy.
In one place — condemned building and more on that later — a 35-foot-long stray stem with squash and/or pumpkins spreads out almost to the sidewalk, moving at quarters. It looks out of place and off-kilter combined with the scalped grass all around the yard it crosses, now buried in leaves of all shapes. And their bushes have only hacked-off nubs on the end of their still-thick branches, making the place look very vacant.
One of the area murals that extends into two different blocks has it all — frogs and toads, (no newts or even their eyes), long and at times coiled snakes, various snails, many worms, bugs of all types, ants by the number — and to change it up a calm fox. They almost seem to tell a story ala Alice In Wonderland. Flora intermingled. But few delicate little pedals. Little Flower would have to be another time.
In the vein of storytelling, there are more than one of the free mini-libraries set up on these streets, including one outside the eight-sided, like spider legs, Octagon House. Ghost stories galore?
At the end of that block with the main mural, on Vine, is very much a spooktacular too, hawked heroically at the Living Word Church, on the corner where you’ll watch trick-or-treaters go by, (could they quite unlike the church itself be the undead?) Fall colors galore on their sign. And kitty-corner across the block is a sculpture that looks like a living-room-size spider stretching above a set of stairs.

Lumber through leftover leaves …
The leaves are finally now turning — first brought by the sumac that is everywhere alongside the many roadsides that lead to many roadhouses and what you might find in their backwoods — then in turn those maples, those seen in great number along Third Street, as their mid-purples provide the picture. Ghost of Prince? So here we go, Halloween anyone?
Of course I must mention, smaller yard decorations. Things like little witches hiding in corners of brick walls. One of the first I spotted was a skeleton that looked somewhat bigger, pumped-up puma size but positively pre-Jurasic, and a set of creatures, three feet apart, balancing a tied bag between them that just coulda housed a body!
You just gotta think one may have been left behind in that condemned house. Signs on the door and windows indicate that all who can enter are authorized personnel. Like a coroner? Just ask the owl, nearby, keeping watch over … what?

On that (mid)night before as my new editor at the HSO called it, in an accompanying piece, Halloweekend, with its parties, there were quite a few rowdy people out, but most of the costumes were reserved for Stillwater and what was called its Halloween crawl — like you needed that extra notation for again, this weekend, although still early. One man who stood out, getting on jump on the Saturday night parties, was describing to the bartender his mullet — why do I want to say mule? — made longer and excentuated by what he said was not a rug but rather hair extensions. Cool for a dude. Better then Trump’s toupe, and that’s amazing since he’s such as narcissist. Won’t go into Bernie or Biden.

Several hours later, on mid-Saturday morning, a shop owner was cleaning up the sidewalk (from the night before?), of its leaves and such, getting the prep done for her not-so-small event that would feature myriad activities such as mini-tarot readings for the little minions, spell jar making, storytime of course, and kiddie bingo (connect unicorns?) at the metaphysical shop down the way from my place.

— After some at that busyness at the Apothecary Business, they closed early on Sunday, as it was a day for pro football, not potions. Thus for the neighboring barber shop, a travel day to Titletown and a sign: Closed to go to the Packer and Vike game, Aaron.

Maybe they shoulda said Jordan, conjuring something up for him … And captain Kirk, despite enterprising a win at Lambeau, unfortunately ended up balancing on the bench like one of the craggy skeletons mentioned in this article, the victim of an apartment Achilles heal injury.

But there’s more on the Eve of All Hallows injury list, so if you dare … Something to squeeze in between the weekend costume parties and the Tuesday night haunt itself. Tonight, that being Monday, at Dick’s Bar and Grill is another version of their Halloween party, the Eat Drink and Be Scary version. Grub and party gear is the rub. Only Monday offering in this very “vein” that I know of. And there, they just might be vain. —
It had been about a week earlier that we’d seen the first of a rollout of fall events, a Scandinavian festival, that may have featured Celtic themes, such as at Halloween, at a downtown church.
This season, skeleton decor seems to be a thing, and not just the bones, as such, as formed with solely the cheesy pieces of quite puffy plastic, but in even more cases a very craggy and brittle look like you might see on a metal album cover. This could just be a matter of bone density. Some skeletons are laden with big black sprites of tinsel, though like a necklace or other piece of jewelry. Fine.
Fake spider webs around town are very big at times, but the smaller and real ones are not intentional, such as those in the brick corners of nightclub front walls, or in a great big pot (cauldron?) of browning flowers.
My very welcoming friend two doors down in the apartment always changes welcome mats by the season, starting with “wipe your paws” and now sporting all kinds of fall colors and leafy images, among them seven candy corn pieces and a dark owl. But no tricks here from this straight-forward lady.
In two places where the concrete next to the street has been placed aside, there have been sitting an also perfect seven — reminescent of the quality of underlying reconstruction? — of bright and also tinted orange, as is the theme this time of year, made of plastic cones, that soon became eight. Neither reached nine.
Like the play on the seven deadly sins on a silly sign at the bank, right in front of where you fill out your deposit slip. And next to that a plug for their “black witches club,” OK there is no such thing as again, its only a sign, and not a true visionary one.
But is the following such a sign? My website’s messages counter was stuck on this flight number for a while, 90,666. On this holiday! Hmm …

Two or is it three, other numbers make the cut. The little golden “30s” the size of less then a dime are still here, there and everywhere on the sidewalks, now on the 29th, leftover from a birthday party of the same number of years. And then the red, white and blue plastic balloons of a similar nature, about three dozen of them, over at Barker’s, one of them listing “35” in a puffy fashion befitting … an Old School plastic skeleton.

Three nights before the actual witching hour of Halloween, a typical fashion, numerous nightclubs in the Hudson downtown and surrounding towns already get going with costume contests that typically bring in thousands — in numbers of both partiers and prize money.

You’ve heard this from me before, but it bears repeating. Barely. But verily.
This has been a Hudson tradition for decades, and involves both diehard locals and hundreds from the Twin Cities, often flocking in by boarding ghoul-friendly, glowing party buses. The pandemic ebbed it for a while but did not kill it. People hit the area discount stores in advance, not just to get candy, but to get their gear and makeup, which some see as an investment — but some killer costumes, albiet with variations, get resurrected every year from the closet, just with the fake blood added in front of the mirror each annem.
The timing of the pre-holiday costume parties each year, which can be on more than one night, or sometimes even on more than one time in a given night, is determined by when Halloween falls. For 2023, having them all on Saturday, Sept. 28, was an easy choice. The exact timing of when the winners are chosen varies by venue, and some of the annual pros make it a point to check out as many parties as they can, and rake in the most dough. Some such partiers also frequent places not having costume parties — and the hosting of such can be touch-and-go post-pandemic — and rather just music, simply to be further seen.
Some of the bigger money parties have put on such a show since before this Millennium, although the timing of when winners are picked and exactly how much money they will take home sometimes doesn’t get finalized by venues until later in the week, right before the ballroom blitz.
The shining star each year is the Smilin’ Moose, with prizes for first place in the range of $500. (Most of the others around town are mid-range of that as far as what they give away). The Moose often places in the back deejay area a stage, large another so it could house a full band, raised several feet above the floor, and on it parade the finalists, thus gauging the cheers of the crowd as they are introduced.
Kitty-korner a block down at Dick’s Bar and Grill, they have their accompanying music deejay really get into the act of chatting-up with spooky banter those in the costumed crowd, often breaking them down into semi-finalists prior to picking who is best. Like some other venues, there can be distinctions made for those who are things like most original, male vs. female costumed customer, or even doing haunting as a couple. The chosen one or few will be named at midnight, the most common but not only time for such local venues.

Decor galore …
At Hudson Tap, the treat are themed drink specials at 20 ounces for $4 made up of — not necessarily Bud — but Bloody Light beer drafts, as well as bloody-well shots. And some of the best decor for the holiday you will find. Here you will see many wicked wonders, including a spider the size of more than four footballs complete with webs, stretching gingerly but in black over the top of four Wisconsin beer brew caps the size of basketballs. There is another pink spider, as it could of bitten Barbie, behind the bar. In back a large ghost hangs, and up in the front a smaller one bearing big black boots. And scores of skulls, all in dangling downward lines, and many other spooks aplenty. At a small front window is a bit bigger ghost with arms waving, yes, up and down in triplicate.
Their specials scene could be seen as the nightime version of Bloody Mary’s.
Places midstream in the downtown like Agave Kitchen, together with its upstairs Bullpen Cantina — although they could go boo and kill it off this year! — thus have often followed the cultural surge and gone to having a vote done, even if cast later, via digital submissions. So if you are in the area …
Over at The Empourium, in the town of Hudson, they replay the old trick for treaters of having that night’s band, still to be finalized so check their Facebook, (its actually 8 Foot 4, Frankie kinda height), dressed up in costume while they play in that big, multi-tiered dance-area venue. The Monster Mash? Heard that sung at karaoke on the eve, and it was killer. Didn’t recall that the lyrics, beyond just the chorus, were so clever.
A place to start is the Bungalow Inn, just across the St. Croix River in Lakeland, since their costume contest judging is early, at 10:30 p.m. Participants must register by 10 p.m. and be present when winners are announced at 11 p.m. Also different than most of the other venues having contests, the Bungalow is presenting a band called The Drive, featuring the “coolest” music from the ’70s and ’80s — a different “time signature” then most — in their supper club format that often caters to a bit of an older crowd. The Bungalow after being off for a bit with their music, is kickin’ it again.
And you could get an even earlier start. The costume contest at what has been known as Bobtown Bar in Roberts get going at, get this 8 p.m. It now is under new ownership by a man you may know from back in the day as a stalwart, behind the bar, at Dick’s Bar and Grill in neighboring Hudson. For the pleasure of showing up early, at this village, you could collect a $100 prize.

Things start on Friday too …
Down south, to get going even sooner, in two ways, at the GasLite in Ellsworth, get your groove on already on Friday night, starting at 8 with music that can lead to a costume winning way, and that’s not gaslighting. This is a birthday party, in addition, so a combo — two different ways to party — concerning the Alex Zachary Band, and haven’t hit them on this site for a while, that does their opening number right around the time of the costume get-go. But hey, a bassist also on vocals? Could be the reincarnation of Lemmy!
The scene spreads into North Hudson, as well, where the Village Inn takes command with their contest, as dollar amounts can’t rival The Moose, but remains another very spacious place to hit and show off your goods.
Also a bit off the beaten track, and rounding out the mix, is the Willow River Saloon in Burkhardt, know for their weekly bands that play mostly classic rock, and country of that era, in an appropriately fall-themed wood-hewn atmosphere. So dress accordingly?
There are certain kings and queens who show up in slightly different versions of the same iconic costumes, year in and year out. There are two standouts, from what I’ve seen since the 1990s. And they are not always the prototypical Frankie or Dracula. Creativity goes a long way in winning these contests.
One is, almost literally as the law will allow, Lady Godiva — but don’t pigeonhole her as that character or she just might cast a spell on you. Another is a man who is authentically in a shower up to his nose-high spray nozzle, but with curtain around him from neck down. Do we see a theme here?

To get in the Hilarious Historic Hudson All Hallows mood way early if you are a Baby Boomer, there is the annual trick-or-treat giveaway of kids candy on upper Locust Street by almost a dozen of its businesses, as they jump into the fray on Thursday, Oct. 26 — in the same block at The Smilin’ Moose, where you just might show up, if a classic rocker who can tolerate hip-hop heads for Halloween, in such a costume two days later.

Mark the longtime main guy behind the bannister at Micklesen Drug, a chief fixture of this occasion where they take a rare pass on their norm to kill off hyperglycemia — or is it hypo? — is waiting for you on the main Locust Street corner, and will help you amp up your blood sugar without taking it too far. He is quick with a joke and a light up your smoke — OK he would not recommend that end as he is a pharmacist — and there is no place that he’d rather be than giving away candy. He’ll tailor his trademark wit to the kiddies. Few if any jokes about locusts with way too many mutated legs and even more wings from bad use of his products, comprising an actual plague. And I will wait until a much, much more appropriate time to tell his bad — OK I prompted it — although hilarious, allegedly, tale of a third med-related green tail being grown and how he’d cure it with a hacksaw. Or is it the third one in his (spooky) garage. Or did I tell that tale of the (orange and/as the new black) tape to hold candy together already? And if the regulators are reading, this is not recommended reading for any of his clients. His actual knowledge — joking aside — of what meds can and can’t do for you is immense. So while you and yours get your grub …

Mark said they will typically get 300 to 400 trick-or-treaters in this 4-7 p.m. annual event, all held in just over a city block. Wait, he added, it could go as high as 700 in this club. That’s well over 200 an hour. Monster money made for M & Ms. The weather could potentially rain or sleet on this parade, or part of it, so we’ll shoot for a mid-range of 500. (Won’t have to feed the 5,000. That’s for the following All Saints Day.)

With those things in mind, consider hitting me up, a block up, for some candy and other creative kinds of treats — and more horrible tales about tails — as you go along that night, but the trick might be to get there early. First-come, first-serve, while supplies last, as hey, HudsonWiNightlife didn’t budget well and only had $5.37 under this heading. OK, I may have gotten the digits wrong, but you get the gist. (These days on social media you can get away with that qualification.)

*** I am now at the Buena Vista apartments just before the stoplight at Vine and Second, giving away what I’ll broadly and simply call stuff. Just know that with that said, this is Ugly Kid Joe, (music related costume), if you remember the band when they opened in the Twin Cities for Ozzy, and I was in attendance gathering (future Halloween-ish from the Master Keeper) tips, that’s what we’re talking about here. So you get what you get, as says one of his followers. See if you can tell what slightly-upper patio I’ll be on, so I can get the drop on you.

Also on Thursday, the Octagon House in the Third Street Historic District “kicks off” its Halloween season, and you’ll be just dying to get in there, and give an arm and a leg to participate in a series on ongoing tours. On this day, the deathly topic for the ages is Victorian superstitions and ghost stories, and on the 28th and 29th is death customs of the 1800s. Centuries old scares and not for the faint of (disemboweled) heart. On Halloween itself, there’s the haunt with the Octagon witches, and they put it best this way:  “Double double toil and trouble … The cauldron burns and The Octagon bubbles.”

Couldn’t of said it better myself. Although I will try when all the little locusts arrive, starting Thursday late afternoon.

Ever wanted to get an awareness of your-life-situation “reading.” Of what you maybe should have already known. But needed proper and proprietorial guidance. Here you go, Oct. 20 and 21, as the first weekend of many Halloween festivities rolls out in Hudson.

Here, further down in this post, is a testimonial. Its given in spades. And in the cards. Of your Queen? And you are her King, metamorphically? Back to it now Jack. And you might find it hard to hide your black cards, even if you think you are able. The Aces here are very, very high in their measure. Sometimes the stakes are too.

— And if you didn’t get your inner freak out now, go to Ziggy’s Hudson on Saturday night, that being the 21st, when the featured band that’ll be showcasing its greatest songs, such as in its telling name, is Show Me Your Hits. Get your mind out of the gutter. As when I profiled the somewhat-such-titled band (slightly edited) Some Hitty Cover Band.

On a different front, on Halloween and its clothings. I hope you’re all ears. At the Hudson Public Library on Monday, that being the 23rd, get there from 6-8 p.m. and be shown by those who help us read well but even do so much more, how to use quilled paper and “craft around” and make holiday earrings. Also for those who will listen, so many area churches offer events that take a play on the trick or treat theme, and one on the south end of River Falls calls it trunk or treat, and also get in some evangelization on the cusp of All Saints Day. —
So no more procrastinating on the main theme of this post, as it would be bad karma, (OK too easy a joke for my “enhanced” standards). The coming Halloween is your time and indeed kingdom now come. Show up in the 400 block of Second Street, (midblock), on the west side, (more on that below), at two times this evening weekend, and reach closer to full enlightenment? Two different psychics, paired perfectly, will give you such a reading, and the price will likely be right. But beware … In a good way. Few if any tricks.
Such parties are merely a portal. Experience-learned people who provide such wisdom are really and fully behind building a broader clientele, not just for profit, but for prophet. And its prophecy. Laden to helping people with their ongoing lives.
The joy is not in the dollar, but the great fodder it brings. They are really into helping people carry on in this world, against odds, with insight only they and theirs can offer. But psychics are not an end-all, but a means toward a better end. You have to know, just and exactly, how to work with them, for best result, and that will be covered in later posts. So stay tuned.
I now reference a — now-dead by this hand — man who helped me massively in my pain and quest. It all started with an episode such as these being hawked in this post, that changed and thus possibly even saved my life, and a love. It all occurred, many years ago, at a venue only two blocks down, south, from what will happen this weekend.
A man at the far end of Pudge’s, that is what it was called then, was shooting pool, another fave of his. A mate deviated from the back room, with its multiple tables, and said that there is a new guy in town, and he just opened up a psychic shop. Could I write up a new business story for the paper? To show me he was the real deal, he would first show me, in full form, and demonstrate the salt of his earth.
What entailed in the next half-hour would literally — if somewhat metamorphically — save my life. He nailed my very life situation, point by point, for 19 of the next 20 minutes he talked. (The rest was the dearth of NFL football, love the Packers). Then verily, he took a great big and heaving breath, as best he could. And then he told me, lets take a break and get through Christmas, then come back and make an appointment and see me, as I have so much more to say. And he very much did. Later, and unfolding.
So it started. Although I can offer no implicit guarantee, thus might be more of what you will encounter this Friday/Saturday. I should have known, because even this many decades earlier, in a similar situation and scenario, a psychic gave similar advice at a workish and holiday party — and promptly left the table based on what aweful things she had seen in the preliminary part of the read.
So much more of this experience I had, and many others like it, later on this bat channel. Season assumed.
But until then, get going on your Halloween this Friday and Saturday, 7 p.m. each, if you want to go back again, and see what may await you with many such readings, at a downtown enlightenment-based shop that does not want to give out its (very newly chosen) name just yet because others are thus named like it. Appease the legal beagles and their lions come Halloween. But you can find its sign on their doors and windows — see address info above — and scan that newly cool code to reserve a space.

Wisconsin has seen its share of airplane crashes taking the lives of up-and-even-further-coming music stars — Lake Geneva flying east is only one example — as we see more needs for people to get “on a jet-aeroplane” or “no time to take a fast train” with the situation in the Middle East. But wait, this isn’t a copycat of Leaving Afghanistan, since Israel long ago has essentially shut-down the one airport in the Gaza Strip. Rail lines, if even existing, likely have been bombed out in both feuding countries. So no escape. Like those poor souls in the very front of a death-metal mosh pit, pushed against other types of fences.

And, I reference a gang of four who in the heydays of rock hit the rough road from Hudson in the far northwest end of Wisconsin, and headed for a Milwaukee concert — going past Lake Geneva and the ghost of Stevie Ray Vaughn — following the route of so many actually in a rock band, with motley van dragged metal on the blacktop. Bumper decals stayed largely OK, though roughed edged and scratched. Most fans have better rides. Mufflers and even woofers and more breaking down, including engine parts unknown, along the way, in more than one location. I myself have had The Troubles in the car more than once in halfway Tomah — at the unholy Trinity where there’s a break in freeway, where it goes either west or more northernly, between I-90 and I-94. Going up north.
But its so much worse in Gaza, if you are asked to find some way to trek almost two-dozen miles to the south gap at Egypt — and it would be farther if this wasn’t one of the such-enforced most densely populated places on the planet, with like a gagilion in every square mile?
This, in The Middle East, is more important than going to see a Sabbath-type or Stillwater or Sweetwater show back in the ’70s. Have all of us who bitch about our commute thought about how you make your way to the land of Anubis. This is no concert backdrop. As all agree that the rank and file in Palestine are not the enemy. But they must now march. Into eternity?
It only starts with food and water, and how can you indeed march many miles while being famished? No canteens here like in the old Westerns. What about medications, that niceity of the 20th Century? Insulin sminsulin. And what if you are disabled, and just how do you walk while dragging oxygen or a dialysis machine. You simply die.
If you can find a car or motorcycle — can Harley Davidson donate some low-riders? — are you even able to get some gas, or pay for it as banks have been bombed, or is there even a station still in existance? Much less a convenience store with other things you might need to get to Egypt, like motor oil before your parts go dry. Might resonate if you are one of those hyper-fastidious types who change it every 3,000 miles. What if your car was at or about 2,999, and you use the cheap stuff, at the time of the initial missile strikes, and it was 9:58, too late to rush to the nearest Quickie Lube before it would close at the 10 O’Clock Hour? And you can’t call on your cell phone, to check if that cute clerk and you know the one, would hold the register open a few more minutes, since you were displaced so fast you don’t have it in your pocket? Nevermind the fact that its black plastic is so slippery it fell out in a trip to the West Bank … while it was still open to people like you. And your wallet was left under the couch, if you have one and people in this region have scant funishings, then screw you. Change in your pocket may not get you there. Not that’s stress.
What if walking with toddlers? And their diapers if they need? Somewhere we all go. And other clothing, it temps and rains change like they seem to wherever you live? And the two-lane road, if that, not four-lane, has no shoulder.
Maybe its good that Gaza is only 25 miles long. But if in the northern remote outpost, if there is such a thing here, that is Gaza City is perhaps 20 away from The Promised Land of Egypt. Am I the only one who sees irony here, that title included, from so far back in the past no one had heard about an Israeli State?