Hudson Wisconsin Nightlife

Do you want some (tossed like at a wedding) rice with your Meatloaf? Wild rice? Now all that’s left is classic songs, although the Rocky Horror Picture Show lives on.

December 19th, 2020

As our favorite celebs get older, a consequence is that they sooner die. So now we add to the list Meatloaf, but not meatballs, and not just that post-holiday dish that uses a bit of creative seasoning and has one fashioned from the other, (and make note of that).
Meatloaf makes me think back to my college days, in the heyday of the Rocky Horror Picture Show that had the singer slam through the castle doors on his motorcycle — we in Wisconsin hope it is a Harley. A full-frontal even with all the trappings played out at, of all places, The UW Marathon Center campus. (They started the midnight show earlier than that).
I went to the event with a couple of other people, and the main get-up-and-do-the-dance that is described with left and right footsteps shown on screen force was Kay Gruling, who I also knew from high school days. The elongated stage area was big and so were the sheer number of dancers Kay dragged out there. But Tony K. was not into being hit with rice-a-roni, thrown in and around the audience at times that were called for. And Kay went on to be a doctor, but not the Dr. Frankenfurter who was the real star of the show.
And that classic song Paradise by the Dashboard Light, a place we all go, for several years running was a duet at the weekly Jeff Loven show, with Tracy as his muse. They didn’t miss a note.
And also, sad to say, another recent death is that of the guitarist for Bad Company. His birthdate came out in the press, all the way back in 1935! Look how old that makes him, and did he stay Firm as the followup band by that name that had the lead singer of Bad Company, but sans their strummer, replaced by Jimmy Page of Led Zeppelin fame, who at 77 is a full ten years older than the original player. (I never thought of them as being a Supergroup, as they were dubbed).

Christmas comes again, so here I go again. First with another joke about all those in-laws out there. You know the ones? We all have them, don’t we all? Annoying and beyond?
Got the last-minute invite to join THAT family for not only Christmas Eve, but an overnight, and Heaven Help Us if its till New Year’s. So what do you make sure you grab on the way out the door?
Your heart medication. You may need it. Make sure you take some for the next day, too. And dare I say it, add a bit more for unrelenting stress? A little dab will do ya, (or that was for hairline not heartbeat). Or is that enough?
For for more on a slightly less traditional Christmas? Where is someplace we all go? Or maybe just might like to in order to get away? One of my ADHD bartender friends, aren’t they all, did just this, in a real role reversal. The family did not care for, or understand, her decision.
But first back up. Where on the bar scene can you find a closing of 2:30 a.m. at the earliest for all of the big four — two eves and two days. That’s right, T-Buckets as you meander toward Somerset, and that seems fitting, is open that late on Christmas Eve, even, and Xmas Day, and News Year’s Eve, way back further on the clock, and day too. And you get that extra half-hour, or more, because all four holidays fall on a weekend.
You can guess what my server friend did back on the first of those holidays.
Which brings me to a further point. This does indeed serve a purpose, for those who have no family in the area and can’t travel, but nobody really wants to be on the back side of the bar on this night. The guys will take the shift and be macho about it, but you can tell they would rather be elsewhere. But I have made it a point that if I am in that can’t-travel situation, I will take just a minute and say a fond Merry Christmas and even the thus accompanying condolences, to a fave bartender. And they might get a bit misty-eyed. This harkens back to the days when Ziggy’s was actually Pudge’s and they were, somewhat famously, open 365. Or maybe for myself, that local Kwik Trip tonight? Have to check their schedule.
Lastly, back at home in Merrill when I was a child, there was a neighbor lady nurse who was stuck at home alone each Christmas Eve — their shifts never end either, can’t hop a plane. She would come over with a plate of cookies and say hello, maybe a bit tearfully, and make it a holiday. She was typically invited in, but said oh no I couldn’t, you are all with your family, and deferred.
Don’t do that to yourself. If other options evade you, go to T-Buckets and share one and some holiday cheer with the bartender. After all, there are there for the need for such a service …

More of the flood that there can be when there are dead-defying occurrences, this time figuratively.
Alas, would the semi-annual Flood and Frost Your Nuts runs be held, with re-construction of their entry points ruling the roost?
The latter run has been cancelled for this fall, as per the owner of the Mallalieu Inn, from whence the motorcycles would come and go and then come again, with the featured starting point the parking lot of the veritable inn and the two blocks of street in front of it. The east side of that street, right next to the main drag, is still either dug up and plagued by big road-work signs. The Mallalieu also has for the time-being postponed its very affordable and famous — I think I can say that — traveler steak special with sides made fresh on the grill each Wednesday evening. No word on when it will be revived, but very unlikely before Halloween.
“It’s just crazy out there,” said the owner, in a statement that was an understatement.
The run would have been this coming weekend, and also at risk is the Flood Run, usually held the week before. Last Saturday there were a few brave cyclists who risked an at-times bumpy run over the bridge and through the construction zone and detour and slow-to-a-long-stop-and-then-crawl traffic. Hopefully crews with cranes will right the ship, to invoke another form of travel, in time for the Unfrost Your Nuts companion run in April of 2022, (we feel compelled to mention the year in this case).
Three other local eateries have succumbed to the road work and also, mainly, the pandemic. Questions have been floated online about when the reopening of Mama Maria’s in North Hudson and Mallard’s in Bayport will take place; few answers were in short order forthcoming. It may be that no one out-pizzas the hut, although yes, Pizza Hut is not operating right now, with its sign and all that remains of it, sadly, looking like the barred view of a jail cell with only the cables still in place. It also now shows mostly untrimmed vegetation.
Some roads lead to injury, not the near-death of local businesses and their offerings. The Las Vegas Raiders were dealing with more than the imminent Jon Gruden resignation, as turf toe raised its ugly head and kept two players on the questionable list for Sunday football. That meant there were only 238 healthy toes being ready and able to take the field amongst the usual LV starters, reports another publication that has a distinctive multi-fold readership, The Nevada Gambling and Podiatry Journal. What did the sideline reporters have to say, concerning if these two would see any action at all? What happens in or to Vegas, stays in Vegas. On the “out” list was S. Harris. Not the Viking Harrison S. Not rock bassist Steve, rather a pair of defensive safeties that make up the S.
Where has the poison summer gone? Taking the form, in final fashion, of the temptation caused by a said-to-be gorgeous Minnesotan at Lakefront Park sporting a bathing suit even though we are now in October. Alas, one piece not two.

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The game is on soon, and the heat is on. How will it play out in real time, not the two-minute-drill that can take ten minutes if on the actual clock? We will see. Here’s what to watch for when watching:
— Aaron Rodgers and Big Ben meet for the first time since a Super Bowl barrage, although both have more than one look-alike at Dick’s Bar. What’s in a (last) name? Suffice it to say this is a Double R. Like the birthdays hawked on a sports bar sign, Roy and Ruby. Same day or at least week. So step aside, Kozy Korner, if only for a moment.
— Tom Brady says the way his transfer to Tampa Bay was dealt with was “perfect.” Local servers used to say “no worries,” and one just did to me, but it is now retro back to “perfect.” And Big Bill says Brady could possibly play until 50. So take heart Packers and Rodgers fans, for many mores seasons of wins that are not for the faint of heart, like last weekend. But you know the Patriots will have something more to say about his longevity come this weekend’s historic, by all accounts, matchup as you know they will be coming after him. So a heart attack with Gisele may not be what does him in.
— Will Urban Meyer finally win a game with his new Big City team, Jacksonville. He has an 0-4 start. Life in the NFL might be tougher than at his former football factory, Ohio State. Don’t don’t say that to my in-laws, huddled around the tube for every game in their Buckeye attire, with all eyes on another title run, even after being transplanted to the Twin Cities.

As far as concerts that indeed go on, or do not go down, one could say that even these days The Song Remains The Same. Just the circumstances play out differently, as far as who indeed plays.
For starters, the CNN mega-concert with dozens of name bands was to mark the quasi-official reopening of New York City, and one could argue that it was done too soon or too late. It turned out that because of Hurricane Henri, and likely to some degree the virus also, the show never went on — even though Anderson Cooper hung in there until the bitter end to see if he could see it come to fruition. A postponement or delay, as opposed to pure cancellation. It turned out to be the latter. but this ended up being the queen of dead air for a few hours — Anderson, you could have at least played your air guitar. As it was, this big music fan and thusly chosen for the gigless gig, was very disappointed, but it gave him the chance to Wanna Be A Rock Star and interview the acts that could not play, except for that set of impromptu gigs that were done somewhere between the backstage and the dressing room.
So, for much of the evening Anderson was on camera to the right, with an empty stage shown to the left, filling that time by asking many more questions than you normally have time for when a journalist. This was an attempt to save the concert that had been pumped by CNN for days, even featuring a New Year’s Eve-style, many hour-by-hour countdown. He as wowed by Barry Manilow who said all this was playing out to be great anyway, as he got part of his set in. There was some of this before the rains came. But I have to say, if Barry is the standard …
And that stage looked like one I saw at a Mayhem death metal concert. Tall and dark and grim, but with dark blue lights rolling across the top and a bit of actual lighting sprinkled in. And in the Big Apple, a few hardcore fans filtered in also. But there would be nothing that would rock you to the core, as Springsteen was the hardest rockin’ act that was on the bill. But the winner take all, or most, of the night was Mother Nature because by the near-end toward the news hour, the announcement was made that the headliners and others would not go on. Patti Smith was the one who evoked that nature reference.
More soon on other acts, this time mostly local or regional even if that means its presented later, who did get to fit the bill and went on despite similar circumstances with the weather, and on top of that the pandemic too. How dealt with by Jeff and Vox.

OK, this is sports by the numbers, a followup on all those 40-points-plus performances in the NBA Finals, not to mention the pursuit of Perfect 10s in the Olympics:
— All this percentage-based jokestering started when QB Tom Brady made a funny while being feted at the White House, saying that only 40 percent of people were of the belief that his team, the Buccaneers, had won the Super Bowl. And of those, only half had it as Gospel. (OK, I added that last part).
— So, here goes more. The color commentators on major network(s) had it that the Bucs as they spelled it, minus the K obviously, could go far in the playoffs. Only 43 percent of people listening made that name distinction. But a full 97 percent from Milwaukee were well aware. That number dipped to 83 percent when you get as far out as Hudson, (and we think we’re so astute here).
— Analyst Charles Barkley early on, when the Bucks (got it right this time) were down by a 2-0 factor, said they still could go all the way. A full 17 percent agree with him — and almost half think he has a psychic advisor — an initial number that is small because of our relatively small population base here in the Midwest. The percentage that agreed with him dwindled to single digits out on either coast, and when we are talking Phoenix itself, dropped to a rate that is statistically insignificant (love that phrase). But among those who follow the money, the hundreds of dollar bills, as in bucks, that were dropped for effect on the TNT studio, three-quarters are dream believers.
— That crazy-eyed man, who goes by the name of Portis, was thought by 54 percent of those polled (yeah right) to be a better fit with the WWE that he has signed onto, than the NBA exclusively. But only 32 percent thought he was as crazy eyed and could be played out as such, as Hulk Hogan. But the Hulkster is taking dance lessons from Portis, 15 percent believe, based on his now-even-more-famous jaunt down the length of the side of the court that got him a technical, even though the ball went out of bounds off a Sun.
— Then, 77 percent said that Chris Paul was a little too muscular and heavy to be a quick guard. But that number reverted when they saw him toss in a fallaway shot over that much taller Greek Guy. And how many thought that Booker wrote the book on looking like a cocky punk, even if he can’t help it, as he has had that smirk grilled into his face for an entire playoff season? Scratching triple digits as a percentage.
— On the flip side, Drue Holiday was thought be 81 percent to be making a cool style statement with his carefully-crafted dreaded locks and white headband, that sometimes got him confused with Portis. But only 17 percent thought he had a crack at a GQ cover. And who is their bigger Midwest head case, this side of Randy Moss? This one is split between Lopez and Tucker.
— But now to the Olympics. Twenty percent agree with me that the newest sanctioned sport, with trials only here in the Midwest, should be righty-lefty synchronized bowling, on adjoining lanes if I have to spell it out for you down south, and that’s a full 63 percent.
— They wanted to play, rather than the National Anthem for winners of U.S. and British gold, and factoring in the virus factor, the song by Blue Oyster Cult, “there goes Tokyo, go go go Godzilla.” Half off you believe me, the same half who bought the previous paragraphs of B.S. Cheers. Joe.

Of dad, you did it again. That is Mr. Dad, garnered all the attention in the way you might of seen with a certain Ms. Garner. And now we are ebbing closer to July Fourth, and dad will be their too, with chest out if it does not lead to a heart attack aided and abetted by too much meat and potatoes and gravy.
So, here are some observations from the music scene, and that would have to be classic rock, or maybe dad’s favorite and also the fave of the state, since its been dressed up as he official dance tuneage via tuba of Wisconsin — the polka.
The sign says the name of the business is Dad’s Mustache. The other part of the sign is for a psychic shop. So when he going to go there to finally trim off that “soup-sifter?” Only the soothsayer across the hall in that strip mall knows for sure, and she’s not saying unless all the kids, and his wife, team up to pony up a bunch of dough in order to sooth their minds, about the about-face.
Down the road about the distance dad said he had to walk in winter with snow drifts almost as high, to get the that half-room (or so he says) schoolhouse, is a place called Mob Pizza. Dad has tales about that too, although he never did actually stare down Dillinger or Capone, while up north of here, over that last slice. (But if it were JUST pepperoni and sausage, and not all that funny stuff …) And back in Hudson there is the Mob salon, back to that mustache thing, where it could be The Mob Rules, back in Dio Days, when all the band members had not only long hair, but almost as long a ‘stach.

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They say hope springs eternal, season reference, and the time for that season including there nature of being political, spirituality based in this time of renewal, the way that plays out in various holidays with the greater need that is out there, and maybe they are all linked to each other — and not just an internet term.

I must segue to a new friend who was playing on the jukebox mongo metal songs. I liked her choices and told her so. The bottom line? The lady’s name is indeed, Hope, and there just has to be some irony there. No Dark Side Of The Moon, too light in tone, but Pink Floyd is deeply troubled right now about the death at the hands of police by someone with that surname. But springing, again that term, from all this is “hope” that sometime soon, with the attention being given, we will all just find a way to get along. Until then, The H word — Local H and remember them? — is the buzz word that keeps on popping up and thus keeps itself at the forefront, making us revisit its merits. Buzz words, in reality are are just that, but this one today is far more poignant and pervasive, and thus tells the tale.

So, what follows is a listing, somewhat chronological, of the way that buzz word that is Hope has been referenced by name these days in places like a whole variety of social media outlets. And if even they can win the game, there is indeed hope.

My aunt Marian, who has her own concerns to worry about but still has kept me in mind with some of the current challenges in my life, sent a specialty Christmas card labeled  on the front and center on its cover, A Christmas Hope, and may it linger long within your heart. The salutation “Sincerely” underscored the point. A solicitation to benefit those in far greater need, from the Salvation Army, used that very hope word to end its long, prime sentence and reinforce the pitch and the need for it. This was a followup to a similar request at Thanksgiving, but the sheer need a month later had evolved even more, and the ante was upped and the word hope was invoked, where it had only indirectly been present in November. In a second plea, in reverse order of sentence structure, was the request from Second Harvest Heartland. “I’ll give hope to hungry …”  And for their third go-round, there was the charitable option provided by a “Hope Box label.”

But all charity does not have to start with home. A man who is transient and has been aided in various but small ways by HudsonWiNightlife, has now ended up in Vegas! Again, there has to be some irony there. But it’s not always, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. A holiday card trying to reach him came here, in North Hudson, with a message of hope, from the Vegas Strong Resiliency Center. I’m guessing that more and more these days, their dance card (and other card games) are full. Could it be, as sung by Steely Dan: No black cards will make you money, so you hide them when you’re able. But in the Land of Milk and Honey, you must put them on the table. But no, oh no, neither the Vegas Resiliency Center, or HudsonWiNightlife, or even one of my fave downtown bartenders Terry, wish to judge.

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So here goes my more extended spiel on legendary rock music, the harder the more insightful, as concerns Good Friday/Easter. And I will now try to localize all this lyrical analysis, as believe it or not, most of these guys have played concerts right here in St. Croix County, and there is much more of this type of content coming from me once the Music Is Here Again. But for the moment, I refer to another classic song, although lighter in tone,  “The three men I admire most, the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, caught the last train for the coast, the day the music died.”

Ozzy Osbourne as the Prince of Darkness? That’s so much crap built up by the mainstream media — that’s not us — although the singer and composer plays along with it to laugh at himself and if people don’t look deeper, they won’t get it. Ozzy has replied to such accusations via his music not interviews, (check out Rock ‘N’ Roll Rebel). He got the ball rolling on the spiritual side, although a bit dark, to be presented in a quasi-religious way, with his classic song Ironman. It is about a messiah who returns to earth to right the ship by taking to task those who did not help him when he was first here and among us — Judas Priest reference also — and the religious leaders and their false piety  really get raking over the coals in Black Sabbath songs. But to all you literalists out there, this is a parable, not a statement of historical or religious fact, about what we should get a race for screwing up the gift of free will. There are unmistakable references to other Biblical parables such as the Good Samaritan story, “we’ll just pass him there, why should we even care?” And also the ascension: “He was turned to steel, in the great magnetic field, when he traveled time, for the future of mankind.”

But the upshot about the Christian holiday upon us: “Vengeance from the grave, kills the people he once saved.” In short, God is not to happy with us right now. But this song is straightforward, while its sequel Bark At The Moon, is a much more complex tale about the descent into hell: “Years spent in torment, buried in a nameless grave, now He has Risen, miracles would have to save …. They killed and buried him alone … and thought his timeless soul had gone …” You get the picture.

(The video shows Ozzy hamming it up like only he can, as a mad scientist, and running downward deeper and deeper into a cavern) Again, you get it. But not all do. A pastor friend of mine and I discussed this song between sets at a rock band playing at the old Dibbo’s, and he thought this was a representation of some sort of demonic folklore. Maybe it is both? But again to such literalists, you have to take into account the liberties of artistic freedom. Christ was in the grave only three days, we are told, not years …

Bands playing such themes were countless when OzzFest came rolling though to Somerset, just up the road, each summer. You didn’t get top billing on the main stage unless you had such spiritual things to say. And on the way back to the freeway, Ozzy and the guys were known to have stayed overnight at the bigger Hudson motels — mixed messages about if any rooms got trashed. I apparently had a handle on such things, in my reporting for major Upper Midwestern newspapers, as I rose to a first name basis with Ozzy’s publicist in New York, Ada Adame. (I actually saw a music commentator online recently by that same uncommon surname). We would reconvene each June for what would be happening in July. but when Sharon took over things and all became corporate, even thought she probably saved Ozzy’s life, and the relationship died off on the vine. Sharon, thusly, has been labeled online as possibly the most polarizing figure in metal history.

And all of course, is not in a name. The old band that surged forward when metal was put on the map in the mid-1980s, W.A.S.P., has been rumored to be short for We Are Satan’s People.  Again, so much crap. One of their biggest hits was Golgotha, you may recall that was the hill where Christ met the final part of his fate, and the chorus was short but telling, “Jesus we need you now.” Interestingly, the figure on the cross in the video is shrouded in dark gloom, so you can’t be sure if it is Christ or one of those crucified alongside him.

This brings me back full circle to Dream Theater. So if you are starting to thing like I and other metalheads do, what might you say to the idea that “seas rise and then fall again,” could be loaded with sexual imagery, or could seem to be a slam of Herod and Pilate and the Roman Empire that would not stand the test of time. And lastly, the reference to the lowly sparrow and his next meal, which just to clue you in, seems to be referring to those who should not worry about the trials in their lives, because God will take care of it.

With that, no more dark theology, but since it is now time for sunrise services and then egg hunts, Alleluia.

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The challenges to the presidential election are very much waning, but the flags that fly and send home a message on these themes are still out and about, and the sheer volume of their presence waxes and wanes with the season, but as always it comes down to the fact that it’s their size rather than their numbers that matter. And in a big yard, the message can be overt even though that big accompanying sign with few words, just last names, might be well away from the sidewalk. Foot-high DTs and MPs. However, there were neighbors whose candidate lost out, where the signs were already on election night tucked away in the garage — until we presume four years from now. Or maybe two, but I digress.

The flags that remain, along with banners that speak the same, tend to be bigger and bolder, and they can still be noticed because they can approach the length of a bed-sheet — Donald you gotta have A Whole Lotta Love for that reference — and the more Republican that is the sponsor, the more they loom large, tend to stay put and thus have staying power (is this a last act of defiance?) They can now even be found flying in new places, such as their pole being thrust into the trunk of a tree, and to get that insertion on an oak is a tough haul. Christmas decorations took precedence for a while, like on a neighbor’s house where a full thirty feet away from the holiday-themed doorway, at the far corner where the siding headed toward the back yard, has been propped the Old Glory pole, but only in recent weeks.

With recent snow, an older gent was shoveling off each of the 15 stairs leading to his deck, with The Stars And Stripes watching over him. Passing-by was a truck that was not a Dump Trump vehicle, but still sported flags and messages, although more like those Packer things on a plastic handle that are the size of a large working man’s glove A far cry from some of the big flag on each corner of a payload, including the blind spot, four-by-fours that reined before rains turned to snow.

Others were flagged even more often, such as the case when a homeowner was taken to task on social media locally for flying the flag up-side-down. Also a target was Gov. Walz, and the writer, in turn, was chastised by another writer asking that civility rein. Eggs that are sunny-side-up these days do not merit as much attention. Another head-turner, this time at a local shop, featured not a white elephant but a blue one! The marquee at Casanova Historic Liquors has featured different variations on the same sentiment: Hip sip hurrah, for both the election FINALLY being near and the New Year EVEN MORE FINALLY in the books to bury 2020.

And there is a time in the season for all things, and they show by the number of high-flying flags that could be seen erected, almost overnight, at some junctures. They appeared en masse in mid-August, moreso than even had been their Fourth of July presence. After Labor Day the spike continued, and reappeared right after Halloween was gone. Now, it is common to see big flags flown in big groups, as it would seem many same blocks of neighbors are like-thinking. Also appearing late and being taken down early were those blue banners big on befriending marginalized groups of every race or creed or color or gender or age … Hey, they used more words to describe it than I just did.

 

As far as the KQ metal and other music mania as it concerns Christmas covers, it will as you would know from the holiday I just mentioned go on for a few more days. So what’s old gets really old. So I hope to refresh it by having a metal-head holiday classic changed up and taken to a new level (yeah right).

Anyway, here goes my take on “Santa Claus” the remake of Iron Man by Black Sabbath. The deeper you go in, after a starter opening quote, the more of it is original to me, as that is kind of a obligation for such things (sorry Ozzy).

How much does he weigh, how do the reindeer pull his sleigh.

How long’s the fruitcake been, may have to notify next of kin.

Santa’s gig is clear, he only works one day a year.

Have to string for AP, don’t fret Mrs. Clause, you’ll have your spree.

The other 363 to hit the beer, as UC money will cover it dear.

Down the chimney he gets stuck, so he screams what the (censored).

Merry Christmas from old Joe, Xmas gifts mean no money to blow.

(I”m sure Ozzy would give his British accent turn to “been,” ala the fruitcake).

A final happy holidays. Just make sure to “share” the Yuletide joy. JW

And now a final thought, based on a thought from My No. 1 fan, who thought this post was “A-Mazing.”  A little known fact. It was “a-maze” of corn of the ancient Mayans, not Iowans, that gave Santa the idea way back when to go for such treasures worldwide and pad his coffers, in order to feed his reindeer. Am I getting too squirrely? Now I have to blip back and add this verse: “Heard Rudolph got together with Prancer. Did they produce a Tiny Dancer?”

Hey This Is Christmas And What Have You Done? Or do you still have to do. Since the Taste Great,
Less Filling meat-and-more dish rules what the “roost” will be, so we’ll lead with that tip or two, then
quickly revert to different takes on grazing food, which may be what the old and not so old kids focus
on prior to gifts being opened, and the bird is still is the oven. And if you are someone pressed for
time, as say your classes are finally done — whether in the classroom or done remotely, possibly he
same difference, might make you so accessible that it bites into time even more, as where the calendar
falls might make this late this year … Or there is that one last work project that extends into Christmas
Eve Day, then here you go, with what you already have in-hand and sort of heavy on the snack end,
make the most of it without really purchasing anything and still rock your party.
And then for other side of eats. Flavor up your chicken breast with chopped coconut and mint leaves,
and apply maple syrup or other such sweet but dark brown flavors, as they are quite a few, to taste.
With green beans, you may make it holiday happen by taking bits of candied nut from that fruitcake
and sprinkle them on top, or go a different direction and put on crumblings from bacon or part of your
Christmas ham.
Little wieners can leap to new heights when you take the little Vienna ones, lightly pickled in a can for
as little as 43 cents, and touch it off with other flavors such as light BBQ sauce, the relatively tangy
kind. Stick a toothpick through and maybe stuff some bacon between. (Adjust with a dollop of a
differently spiced sauce). And since this is Christmas, I have to reference the classic Grinch tale, which
makes a big deal out of roast beast — and it probably was already aired all over the Old School TV a
couple of weeks ago, as We All Go and push the holidays forward. Is there no such animal? Try out,
just to be different, venison dishes or Bison as there are local farms with this that probably could use
your financial support, (even think antelope), or even all kinds of other game that does not always,
depending on how you prep it, taste gamey — there are a boatloads of opinions out there about the
different nuances. Check them out on the Internet.
Stuffing can be dribbled onto many meats, as well as green beans, or even a bit on corn or some
combinations of them with mixed veggies. Note that the Stovetop brand has the smallest cubes and
more dust.
Corn flakes and many other cereals — of course Chex and various toasted Ohs — can be sprinkled
across entrees and also used as part of a trail mix. Mix and match or take it half and half, and even in
quarters of a bowl, along with mixed nuts or tortilla chips — and mix together all different spiced
flavors of the latter, as there are many available even last minute and in the same section of aisle at
most stores.
Get the kids involved, as I always say, with choosing the mixture you’ll make with various pasta
shapes, and hot peppers in red or green salsa, or a kind that’s largely clear, then add in sliced bell
peppers and onions, as there are four of each kind, carrots, green beans and corn for a differing taste.
Stick in not only peppers of various types, but all things Italian as far as sauces and sausage into
medium or large pasta shells, the type of which type will determine the exact ingredients and how they
are sliced.
Try out tapioca pudding, whether small pearl or otherwise sized, with red or dark berries of various
types along the rim. And what else, not a fruit I don’t think, could be placed around the edges of an
entree? Various flavors of Ramen noodles, just a bit with the perfect sauce of your choosing sprinkled
across the top, and here are the big four, beef (get the primo but most pricey meat-flavor involved),
chicken, pork and shrimp (this is where you can let your very creative juices flowing, and almost all of
them will have some merit, think all kinds of Asian. If you need a boost in your mostest, check out the
big Asian foods truck that is always out front of Dick’s Bar at closing, for ideas, but maybe not at the
appointed 2 p.m. time slot we have become used to).
Cole slaw can use all kinds of various veggies, again be creative and it doesn’t have to be green, and
variety can be served by making its presentation half and half between sweet and sour dressings (and
yes that’s two ot them).
On regular salad, too, chefs can dump in all kinds of veggie, meat and cheese toppings, (check the
back of your crisper drawer), and on a different course, even some fruits that are apples and oranges
and other of that round large shape, or pomigranite. And only need a touch of a meat to flavor it out,
but not more than an ounce or two, try the good old Buddig packets. And if you are that mentioned
college student on limited means, (can you say the loans you may have out?), this might be the best
use of that money the parents are sure to give you.
<Spice, spice baby, and for older boys and girls>
Here is the other side of the story, as far as holiday cookies and the like, which you might be pressed
for time to do in advance, here is a flavorful pick and choose guide.
Allspice is the holy trinity of spices, as useful as oregano, which goes with all kinds of things.
Cardamon is present behind the scenes of all kinds of teas and other drinks.
Cloves can often be found in “leather studded” hams, and you know the guys from Judas Priest likely
love that.
Peppercorns can be as popular as well, hot peppers, although the heat is not on as consistently.
You can be working with a thick sauce in the following case, so some mixing of stuff can bring just the
right heat to the taste. If you have a Christmas birthday, a true gift might be the free bottle of sauce
that is offered at Buffalo Wild Wings (you likely will have to produce ID, even if you did at the door).
My favorite servers recommend something along the lines of Caribbean jerk sauce, which when mixed
with water — or something else — produce just the right level of zing. And you can share this gift with
a friend.
Saffron can be used in drinks such as wine, not just foods.
The guy (we’re obviously assuming that) who wrote online about star anise, might have gotten the
words transposed, as it also appears under various names. That does not necessarily mean the
different names reflect different tastes.
Vanilla bean we assume is like vanilla extract, where it pumps up the volume on alcohol level to close
to a 50 percent level, and it may even be covered by EBT. If you have the right dessert recipe, it may
be a cool party on the government dollar.
Mulling spice is sort of a hodge-podge of great tastes — not unlike when I reviewed the Black
Crowes in a Somerset concert and they were half standard rocking out, and half a mix of all different kinds of folk with odd-ball-for-a-rock-concert instrumentation — and the spice starts with Golden Milk from what we assume was a red-hot momma.

The bars way back on the Biggest Bar Night — and into December — mean going back to what it once was, lots of locals within walking distance of their modest homes, and for good reason, as they mark the time only by their sheer handfuls, as numbers present while time flies ebb and flow, in the village versus the downtown as well (you can forget the Warehouse District)

November 27th, 2020

(Its been almost a week later, and want more of the same that’s described below as far as biggest bar draws in western Wisconsin, and where they can still be found — as Hudson is tail-wagging Minnesota, but only to an extent, and there are options, both the very short-term and longer — so read this web site’s Picks of the Week department, Thursday and into the weekend edition. And many Sunday opps and apps are still there, and are also delved into if you dig deep into the department, in what has been become these chronicles in chronological order. So its Friday, and the weekend 10 p.m. curfew is now in place for city of Hudson bars. But they aren’t the only game in town of what has become in this two-state region the only game in town(s) and village, since Minnesota appears to be on the verge of prohibition. But where to still get bands and brew? Again, check out the POTWD of this web site. And see the Notes of the Beat for more sins of the snowy kind on ATMs).

Where did I top off the Top Tavern Night Of The Year, by finally going out and about — and ambling along the square corners that connected three different streets while now sleepless — on a whim shortly before a closing time contested by Minnesotans, as theirs tanked?
This was not Seattle. It was North Hudson, but it could have been North St. Paul. I joined a handful of medium to hard-core drinkers, but was too late to become of them, at The Village Inn. And I give thanks that I now can do it again, quite sober, early in December.
First off, making my way past sparsely attended and newly spread-out tables to the bar counter, a tipsy guy asked with gusto if I had winning tips about a coming arm wrestling contest. I just took a seat while shaking off the cold, best to ignore such a conversation, which might last until they kick you out the door at closing, but he did persist and made it last until two fists were linked atop a table behind him.
There was a lot of testosterone flowing, like the man at the bar who “drummed” with two fists on the counter in front of him at every percussion flourish from the jukebox, and then that one guy to my right who was among the most inebriated and obviously gay. (More on his input below, and it was kinda cool).
A message across the top of the jukebox said that it was Their Day around the world, which oddly is a holiday I saw referenced in a different place almost a week ago, two miles away, at Dick’s Bar in downtown Hudson, which one border-straddling cabbie has now dubbed a City Bar due to becoming a bit more rowdy. It seems to go in phases. The guy next to me scoffed, “who plays this stuff?” to both light country and a bit harder rock. To the latter, I expounded that it’s the late Chris Cornell and one of his well-chosen cover songs, Nothing Compares 2 U. Another might be Patience, made famous by Guns ‘N Roses. I added that he was almost a god in the metal/grunge scene and in the photo on the jukebox, visually and otherwise, he was flowing his hair down and doing his Jesus Christ Pose. The guy paused for a moment, quaffed once more from his drink, then replied, who was that again? After such strains from Soundgarden, the conversation got going based on his query about the nature of country music. I responded that the genre has grown up over time, but in the twang age and what followed right after, was rather juvenile. He responded to my response that he thought not, it still has not grown up. A child of the ’80s, is how he described himself, but was a bit dated when living in River Falls and hiring a grunge band to play in his basement for a party. That was the era of a girlfriend who brought him into a whole another realm of music for appreciation. He added that he never did actually tie the knot with anyone, just at this time chatted up the bartender.
Across the way again, a man chimed in on Somali immigration, and added that earlier that evening across the river he had talked to a couple of “lady cops,” and all presented concerns about current policy. The ladies threw in a stat that seemed a comment on the status of Somalis here and again, all agreed if they had been male officers, the tone would have been a lot harsher for anyone wayward, outside a bar and otherwise.
But now closing time was near and the bartender said none too soon, as she was tired of all the talk that came out in slurs, and just tired in general. Despite that, my question was voiced about whether Austin Healy, perhaps the most veritable cover band in this immediate area, had a few days ago brought in a crowd to hear their take on all kinds of country. Yes. Because bands at The Village at times tank, but on this occasion, were riding the wave of mostly young adult Minnesotans coming here to party. Last song, and a guy had to be told more than once to move his head so the jukebox in front of him could be programmed with a remote. And the old man now sitting next to me in love with his tonic and gin, after a 12 hour day, could not let it drop that I was wearing shorts and the weather was horrible enough to dip near 32, for anyone working outdoors that long. I told him that for my few-block walk this way it was OK, but that seemed to fuel his lament more. But to the server take heart, I added, as turkey time would be here soon.
She seemed to appreciate that thought. Being served while putting a fork in it, rather than serving.

It’s got to be 5 p.m. somewhere on The Biggest Bar Night Of The Year, and we know you might be cutting out of work before then. Or 6:30 p.m. on the Saturday before. Here’s all that was shown, skin that is, on the initial reopening, of the bar scene in Hudson, and then a second reopening to make up for Minnesota’s second closer. The non-official local ambassador speaks.

November 25th, 2020

Is this a surprise, to compensate for Minnesota, that there were hundreds and hundreds of new people out and about in downtown Hudson on the first night of the bar shutdown that took place across the river. And it was only 6:30 p.m.

(So, it was also announced today that the Badger-Gopher game that is always so big has gotten the “ax” and will not be rescheduled. But there was indeed the airing of the Badger football game, right in front of mostly Minnesota people, on the Saturday night I am referencing — even if early. So, flow with Joe’s Thanksgiving food tips instead to make the most of the time, via this web site’s Pick Of The Week department ).

Hence the earlier weekend and its multiple — as in people — wonders, I hereby became an informal ambassador for the Hudson entertainment scene, in addition to being a HudsonWiNightlife blogger
There was a trio of people looking for Urban Olive and Vine, via their phone, even though they were a full two blocks to the south, and I told them of its amenities which might not be available on all days of the weekend, but included even items for sale displayed on their walls. They seemed to like that idea, once there, over and above the solo man seen playing next to the window, soon to be joined by his female partner.
And the five-person crew coming out of the Smilin’ Moose seemed likewise receptive, shrugging with an “uh huh”to my description of what as available directly to the south, and thanking me, if with only a nod, for the info. The Moose has been one of few trying to somewhat actively enforce the mask requirement, as their principles are from The Cities, and the only ones you will see anywhere in the downtown with masks are newbies to the local scene, pouring over from across the border.
Back at Dick’s and Hudson Tap there was a bit more, if only a bit, of the bare midriff left over from the summer. One had only a teaser of what was underneath, an became thusly just an inch of skin, and another sported an inverted rectangle of her stomach shown, to max out her most exposure, and even her big black boots were higher in number of inches than her blouse, such as it was. At Urban Olive and Vine, the boots were even more on display, to go along with a really short skirt.
Lastly, at Kwik Trip on The Hill, a young girl had on only a camisole with spaghetti straps, oblivious to the weather that was quickly getting colder. A few blocks down at the Hudson House Grand Motel, the lounge that is part of its business, was — according to its sign — having a 5 p.m. opening that had been 4:30, and only on Monday through Friday. Well, this was Saturday and there was no one in the place. The bartender, if he can even live up to that moniker, said there’s is an older crowd, who are not coming out even to the dinner theater across the aisle for fear of getting infected. But this was the first night of a renewed up with the curtain, and one of several measures designed as protection had no meet and greet available after the show. Another ordained new rules for how you could order from your table, and get a receipt, as it was thought early on that even newspaper-type printed paper could spread the infection if handled. And the sign in the ditch right-of-way hawked the idea that there were POP goods available across the city in a sale at the Octagon House, a different kind of entertainment.
Back downtown, Ziggy’s was hopping even before live music was offered that was more than its early piano bar, and there was even a need for four different bartenders. Hop and Barrel, one block north, was by turn was almost empty, but across the street at Hudson Tap the sprawling place was full, and all three pool tables were engaged with multiple-person teams. Next to me was a woman who with a certain sense of embarrassment, alluded to the fact that yes, she was one of those from The Cities. And on the other side of me was a couple who noted that were from the north metro, and yes they were probably the only ones who were retirement age — and they had been here before.
But how to get home? The bartender at Dick’s said he was way to busy to be calling a cab for me, sorry, and walking up and down the street there was none to be hailed. And those that had typically been parked cross the street from Agave Kitchen were not to be seen, even for there minimum fare that can get me back to my North Hudson home for $7.
<<And what about in spring?>>
At the first bar reopening, it was more of the same, with even more of the skin, and we are not talking about just the shirtless joggers and totally bare midriff cross country runners together in a pack, again just prior to 5 p.m. The rub? Telltale is the number of horizontal rips in someone’s jeans, and this can often be strategically placed, close to a dozen in just one leg. Add to the equation big, or not-so-big-just-tall-and-heavily-laced boots that now have replaced green tennies. And X could mark the spot with straps crossing in an otherwise bare back, totally down with it to the tailbone. And the barely bras were not what caught the eye, rather what was revealed from beneath. And all kinds of tops that were over the top, each in their own way. And how long would all this last?
A bouncers take? We agreed that a euphemism could be “lively.” More like really rowdy, to the point that a lot of the regulars were just staying away — for a while. And politics even became topical for an early edition, as a guy said lets do a shot and then you can buy me one too — can’t we just get our own? — but he did have me pegged politically, turning a cheek, so to speak, and ragging on me for allegedly being a Left Wing Biden Supporter. And how could he have known that?
All these thingees in the last paragraph? The themes were much the same on Halloween, and I’ll fill you in on those soon, once I can see if there is any display at all of a Trump head, or more of the camoflague gear that goes with the hunting season.

Who needs BMWs (Best Motorcades to Watch) or presidential rides on the campaign trail — we have bar-scene limos ready and waiting for you to Ride Like The Wind

November 23rd, 2020

I have seen this on the license plate of two motorcades, or as close as North Hudson, unlike its counterparts just to the south, can be as they bring partiers here like never before: A trio of numbers 495, which equates to slammin’ a $4.95 margarita at the defunct president’s club — not the cheap kind you get from HudsonWiNightlife — which foretells the deeds of The Donald (does he still merit a model word-or-two name?) and how he’s said to tip at that club. This after the much-of-the-weekend-when-you’re-supposed-to-be-on-the-job golf outings — all or more likely nothing. (Are you reading Dave Pirner, based on your lack of tip when getting Pudge’s off-sale, yes it happened, around the time when you were at the top with a hit record — whatever happened to you? — and the time the Clintons hosted you at THEIR White House?) But the last three digits of that plate are ZTD, which isn’t in my range, but I know not why, would seem to indicate the kind of sports car Trump would drive. What would you expect from a bankruptcy queen at the executive level? Get some exercise because you’ll need it for counting chads, and you can’t tally them twice if their edge is nicked! Voting twice? Only if you are as fat and counservative as former President Taft.
Riots in D.C. You have to wonder why it took this long. Some Trump supporters gathered near the White House under the name of Low IQ Individuals. Trump appeared at the window and said, “hey, I feel your pain.” As does the drummer for System Of A Down, a critically acclaimed metal act for its social justice lyrics, so I guess their can be a rebel whenever. What does your band leader, who is a staunch progressive just like his Hudson friend Taeja, feel about this? Maybe feeling like marketplace of ideas will win over, like rednecks know what the hell that is. They may even gloat about being anti-intellectual, and their may be some cause for that. Reference the unworkable ideals of Bernie Sanders. (And on a more serious level, what about the passing of “”Bernie” locally, whose name was weighed in on with RIP via the Village Inn in North Hudson for several days running, and across the way at Kozy Korner as simply Bernie, as a one-word model moniker).
And now that North Dakota has issued a firm no-mask-anywhere, anytime edict, one must again invoke song. Phil Collins had a hit record with No Jacket Required, no mention of masks in that earlier day, and then there was the Red Hot Chili Peppers: “Never made it up to Minnesota, North Dakota man is gunning for the border.”
This just in: On Lake Mill Acks, did I spell that right old Bill The Cat, there will now be a limit of one walleye, so just make sure it was the one that filled the boat completely even if walking on water is needed, (reference the New Testament and Apostle Peter). Maybe, reorder the way the catch are obtained, as banks do with overdraft transactions.
For more inconsequential data on the virus, subscribe to MedPage specialties and its bally-whooed precise categories — chances to die via strumdoliosis of the left hand, third knuckle in, on the 13th day of October on Friday under a Full Moon — For Which They Stay And Wait, All Will Be Revealed. Oh but wait a minute, we just had a full moon on a day that is right beside Halloween, so call that 800 number! Then get back to my people when there is nothing left of humanity but two zombies left at the bar, but wait that would mean that my people are dead, too?

The Badger State beckons all comers — Come Together Right Now — as the Biggest Bar Night Of The Year and before bellies up with bands, and you can’t do that right now in the Twin Cities. So we are a Beacon, in more ways than one, and read on to see what that means.

November 21st, 2020

For the for-now-still-open bar scene in western Wisconsin that is taking the place of the Minnesota shutdown, it is go south then go north to hit all the happenings as we approach another huge holiday.
And if you have been living in a cave, (more on that later), you need to know that basically all on-site bar business in the Twin Cities is now off-limits, which means that people will be streaming to St. Croix County like has not been seen until before the drinking age was made uniform, (again more later).
And the mask-or-die principle has re-engaged a fire storm on social media in the St. Croix Valley, state versus state. As one commentator said: “They are going to be celebrating while people (here) lay dying.”
With that said, here is the way you at least for the moment — as Wisconsin tends to follow what Minnesota does — can still musically Beat It. “Fight the hoards (not likely anymore), sing (maybe) and cry (over lost concert time) …” And you listeners of KQ know that this song has been played over and over under a new format (again in a later post).
But for now, the Biggest Bar Night Of The Year, and the entry weekend that will lead up to it starting on Saturday as places tend to meld toward the weekend day that is closest to the actual holiday, is still in place in the Badger State.
But we will go in reverse order in hitting home with the party scene. When is the last time a deejay was on board for a full six hours — short of possibly New Years. That will be the case at T-Buckets near Somerset from 8 p.m. to 2 a.m. on Thanksgiving Eve with DJ Jeff. And if you need more, there is an accompanying pajama party. Makes me think about an album cover on display at Ziggy’s in Hudson showing Lita Ford spilling out of her corset. Lingerie might be fair game (and this is a day of big game) if its warm. And as far as Lita, loved karaoke singing to the duet with Ozzy to that Close My Eyes Forever song. And maybe at T-Buckets …
And across the way at Shuggy’s in Hammond, there will be bands both that night and the Saturday before .. Maybe can even catch what has become the house band, Fog Pilot.
Go now down south and its Ziggy’s again, with the veritable Twin Cities cover band Uncle Chunk — can’t play there right now and did they see this coming? — on Thanksgiving Eve (for the uninitiated, that’s Wednesday night). Their web site shows the Hudson-based band Buck Tucker on a video, which is perfect for right before hunting. And the weekend before it is Skitzophonic, with a singer that looks just like alt-punk, and the return after only a short wait of Wisconsin’s own Apollo’s Beacon, with this time getting the spelling right, (not two pp’s, as that would be an app). But the Smilin’ Moose, no bands for now, as the figureheads are from Minnesota.
Now I gotta rag on a few people, who have been not so kind to HudsonWiNightlife … sniff, sniff. As you go north as village people, check out the signs of the times. You can find the ultimate deer hunter widow dart tourney and also a classic band, which will have a couple bucks knocked off if you bring a banana — that is so old school, if you remember past Dibbo’s days before the millennium turned, There Will Be Fighting In The Streets, With Our Children At Our Feet, (Minnesotans sometimes bring them with). And if you go to Kwik Trip and get their 40-or-so day-old bananas for a buck, you and your limo driver and guests (Mister Take Us To The Show), can get the discount and even more than a Nickelback total.
Why coy with where and when? Its a song and dance as old as the first publishing efforts, by cave man Unk on the wall, As Another Brick In The Wall, hold out and maybe he’ll give you a short shout-out for free. That said, can you simply say not good business but cheap (did I say that, sorry Leigh. You’re no Lita). But I will name Village Liquor and their just now available as we speak, a French wine that could be your next Beau. That starts its name and it ends with Nouvena … The sign hawks it as of the 19th.

Late breaking. The Willow River Saloon in Burkhardt still has been having bands (plural) each weekend, and they steer toward southern rock. So on Saturday Night Live the band Kinfolk takes the stage … I’m assuming you can’t miss the Sweet Home Alabama tie-in, Taking Me Home To See My Kin, as this is a travel to see the family holiday.

Want more holiday stuff? Food tips will follow before next Thursday, and will get you more dough, which could even be used for bread!

The Lands of 10,000 Lakes found that many flyers stuffed in their mailboxes, to value voting while at the same time rally for candidates who would absolve us from the sins of our society, and at the same time save those lakes, in the next Legislative session

November 16th, 2020

Down In A Hole because of the Get Out The Vote Police and there zealousness, (not that there’s anything wrong with that), Feeling So Small (or the other extreme), I’d Like To Fly (to the polls), But My Wings Have Been Slowly … Is all this why Alice ended up in Chains? Because who is the ultimate winner when everyone goes out and votes? The candidate that benefits from such turnout; have you or your mailbox heard from them since Nov. 3?
Not to be cynical, but when was the last time a politician cared about the nuances of what you think, unless you are vulnerable to having your stance shifted right or left, or are part of a large bloc of voters. Then they’ll be after you like flies on … nevermind. And this in the past election played out just as much as Minnesconsin Nice as it did nationally, as the Go To The Polls Police, Came Sniffing Around Your Back Door:
Public voter records from one of those get-out-the-vote groups show that compared to the rest of the state, my voting resume for showing up is “below average.” Another stated that shame on you, you haven’t voted this time around either, and they didn’t wait until late October to tell me so. And here I thought nobody really cared about my data, and I’d be flattered — and indeed suspicious — if someone gave a damn and bothered enough to be after my whole estate, which is probably worth a whole 97 cents. Then there is my brother-in-law who spent loads of dough Securing His Data, whatever that actually is, well before anybody had actually coined the term identity theft. Other flyers said that they were not about any one candidate … although the proof is in the pudding, or putting this food on the table, and you didn’t have to read between the lines to far to figure out there was an agenda here.
That Center of things also sent me a why-should-I-vote mailing that said that there are under-represented voter groups, such as those of color and those who are female, or both, so get out there and correct the disparity. And you know its true, because they spelled it out using statistics on a multi-faceted fact graph. But like Trump, the source of the facts are kept in obscurity, and one bulk mailing from an advocacy group had this delivered straight to me, as I indeed was the intended recipient but the street address was that of the village hall, wrong street and not just wrong numerology. (I’ve been wanting to get that cool term into my prose for weeks now). The hall is still a quarter-mile south, so its not like when we at 637 get the mail once in awhile for the family at 537. And another cause-oriented (their own I’m sure) message to go vote kept coming up from an advocacy group for realtors. A third group said they were working for “prosperity.” Damn, we can’t have that!
I guess that will have to suffice. But Trump says Fox News has gone Fake, and laments that things are not what they used to be on the big network. Thought I’d see a Democrat in the Bush family first. So here is the one, and the only one, example they cited of such “glaring” media misconduct: A talk show guest dared to say that not all Islamic belief is radical, sometimes the majority that’s quite benign is misunderstood. Oh the humanity of it all. It makes just about anything alleged done bad by candidate Yacoub look like Boy Scout material (OK that’s prior to any scandal of this year or two). And in another photo dredged up the GOP, (Goth Out-Pouring), she is made to look, well, just think pale skin and dark lipstick and eye makeup. But Yacoub did open the door a bit in earlier flyer photos, before the flag-drop, where she looked too-glamorous-for-the-office, like the skirt that goes a little too high above the knee. But there’s nothing wrong with that. That did not keep the GOP from using her beauty against her. Then follows a different end of the same philosophy:
This is NOT a way to help get out the vote. If you are giving a ride to a liberal, don’t turn off the conservative talk radio just because he’s climbing into your back seat, which is just far enough away that questionable speech wouldn’t be made out. After all, this is not metal music, so its likely not loud enough to be overheard, even if the old ’80s theme of Rock The Vote. But let’s not be Sound Byte People; keep up with the Journey.
Trump invoked the E word and big photo, that being an eagle, when hawking that others go out and hit the polls like an exotic dancer swinging from the pole on her stage. Its not just a Democrat thang. Just earlier that day I saw an osprey being chased by the golden bird, so as eagles do, he could chase down the fish that was dropped after a day of hard fishing by the previous predator. Big Ben Franklin didn’t much care for the eagle being a national symbol, proposing a turkey instead, but maybe as too chicken to really push the idea. And for Trump, he probably wouldn’t care much about that osprey, since it is not upper crust.
My mom lives in a small, quaint suburb of Milwaukee, but was lamenting that it was more than a week and she still had not gotten her requested vote by mail packet. But other messages continued to flow in, not requested, but saying to have a plan in case of long lines at the polls. Maybe the plan should be if you give certain candidates the bird.”Geez, my answering machine just got another call == vote for Trump! HA!” That’s a paraphrase of her spoken word from the other end of the line.(After three weeks, and what turned out to be a quick call, then was turnaround from her village hall. It arrived).
But back to the beauty end of things, and how it can influence politics. Another flyer pictures two women and claims one is pro-life and the other is pro-choice, but they agree on one thing, limits on late-term abortions, in an attack on Biden that maybe could have worked better, or so the voters sayeth. It is hard to escape the idea that one looks like a church lady — and saying to vote on behalf of those still in the womb, who in any case obviously can’t for themselves, and won’t be old enough to vote until 2040 — and the other woman like a nightclub hottie. And the lady who’s worrying about the Left going too far to the Left shows it with her wrinkles and stress lines, as they have her made to look really bedraggled.

And you thought Halloween was “scary.” That’s the Dems and the term Trump backers feared on flyers would be appropo to keep their man from a second term. Go Go Joe.

November 9th, 2020

Now let’s see what the elder statesman as president can do. (There Must Be Some Kinda Way Outta Here, with my take on AP and doing the tick tocking thing to hold out for overtime pay, and not the video arcade thingee, as this term is Biden-style Old School and it only needs to hold out as long as a Space Invaders game — which is what us ink stained wretches did while waiting for the results to come in; OK we don’t get actual ink on our hands anymore. Its Just A Gamble, Just A Game, You Treat It Like A Capital Crime. See Uncatagorized, fitting for his wild card election).
Joe Biden promised that there would be no tax increase, not a penny, for the middle class, which he defined as anyone making not more than $400,000. That high a figure? No wonder, by stats like this, that the Middle Class is indeed shrinking. And I guess that closes the door for me to being actual Middle Class. Reminds me of the elder Bush, who thought virtually everyone in the country made at least $200,000.
Biden had cool theme music and topical, too. In radio ads in Minnesconsin, his intro was also the intro, basically, to a song by Van Halen, with OMG Eddie on the keyboards. Then the lyrics begin, underscored the point: Don’t want to wait until tomorrow. Why put it off another day? The musical intro also smacks of that done by The Who in one of their songs.
Bill Clinton used a similar theme with a song by Fleetwood Mac, and considering his state of affairs with Hilary, this would seem a good band choice, as their guys and gals kick it with, Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow … It will soon be here … better than before … yesterday’s gone …
When pro baseball opened, but not in front of a single fan, only hundreds of cookie cutter cutouts of people, someone just had to get sarcastic: I saw Biden on TV — at a ball game? A sports bar baseball fan swore that he saw the actual Joe sitting up there among the fake plastic faces on a stick. This was at a time he was getting flack for not personally attending the Democratic National Convention in Milwaukee to receive the nomination, figuring the airplane flight back there would carry risk of the virus being spread further. As the situation gets worse almost by the day, it now in hindsight seems like a good choice. But on that day, my brother, who is always on top of such things and like me always has a take that’s different than what everyone else is saying, noted this: Biden’s absence might have cost him the election, this being a battleground state.
Biden said he would pledge to not increase funding for police. But what parts of their multifaceted budgets? I’m taking a guess here, but if I were a betting man — and I’m not — I’d wager that it has to do with things like how to “manage” body cams. Why not instead devote all these dollars, and I’m sure they’re a lot, to more training in areas that really need improvement in community relations, as the problem goes even deeper than what you, the average voter, know to be the case. If anything, staffing should be beefed up, but that’s always one of the hardest sells to municipal boards that have the final say. So how to put more feet on the street? That is literally the solution, less expensive police cruisers and more foot patrols, or those by bicycle or horse. Or even back to the days of CHIPS, do it on hogs, pricy but not as much as it tends to be with bigger vehicles. Lastly, do they really need all those fancy pieces of gear on their person, making them look like Ironman and bogging them down further if there would be a pursuit — and I realize that as a big part of police work is largely a Hollywood thing — and from what I’ve seen concerning matters of weight, a lot of these guys would be huffing and puffing quickly in any case. To conclude, Jason Lewis, running in Minnesota of all places for such a retort, said this: They support violence. We support the police. (Which could lead to more violence?)
On Saturday, Trump was shown walking a short distance to get into his motorcade, past a security man, but not wearing a mask! Divert back to a key decree by Minnesota Gov. Walz, sporting a mask while standing in the background, and being read by a staffer, and she was not — I think we can get away with such things for the sake of clarity and practicality. That’s one way to not leave things vague, as I have noticed especially when candidates at the regional level quote information, they always cite a source. Trump is the only one who does not, and some of his claims have seemed pretty outlandish, like having built the strongest economy in U.S. history? Maybe he did that by giving free workshops on how people can make bankruptcy work for them?
So back here come old Flat-top, with his black-Harley-style glove Trump-thrust in a fist to supporters who greeted him at a Green Bay airport.

The dealings into presidential politics have begun, and Lord Knows they will be around for a while. And it all, eventually, plays into the local scene and its candidates. But with Biden now bolstered, it’s time to be over the top and report with satire the over-the-top. And this is just for starters, oh you politicos.

November 7th, 2020

Its rare in this business that a deadline gets extended for days, with it being put upon by a reporter not an editor, but that’s what’s happened here following Tuesday’s elections. I decided days before, as the sheer volume of great information kept growing, that I would wait on reporting the Halloween party costume and decoration scene until after the national elections, which were generating several stories on the silliness in themselves and growing, and first deliver those tidings that amounted to The Current State Of The Country. Other topics that I will mix in, as pertinent, and Sometimes One Thing Leads to Another as they invoke past behavior, are who said what late on the campaign trail to lead to the result, the push for voter turnout that led to it all, and the status now of all those flags and signs that hawked one candidate or view, or another.
Then came the idea, unfolding very early in the week, that we might not know just who won the main office until the end of the week. So The Man With The Plan, that’s me, shelved himself. So literally, HudsonWiNightlife slept. As Jesus wept. OK, that’s too much.
But now, here-to-for, we can gun it. So here goes.
On Election Day I talked to my mom in Milwaukee, who said the idea being bantied about is that there would no way, no how be a winner known, before we got up from a late night’s election work with the Associated Press, on Wednesday as the lines even there were out the door and basically a block. So I checked out what the pundits were saying, and they agreed. All Around Wisconsin, a battle-ground state that proved not to be as much-so as say, Pennsylvania, it was said to be the same.
When I reported to the election headquarters for AP in my county, St. Croix, I was greeting for the second time around by a deputy who was actually civil and could laugh at a joke, unlike his years’ old counterpart who would rush you out the door moments after the final results came in, and you were still gathering your papers. The apparently now retired McGruff, who would show signs of physically nudging you along if you know what I mean, if you did not run fast enough, was backed by the county clerk and staff who always want to get the hell out of there after a long day of overtime, which used to be often well into the morning hours — so really, you can understand — before technology got much more sophisticated but not necessarily better. AP always had wanted to do a piece of such First Amendment obstruction, but with all the politically based articles that were out there to be done, it never quite rose to the surface of the story log.
Once inside, at the small room now specially reserved for press — awe that’s sweet — rather than the spacious County Board Room where they had often been joined by various politicos, I saw that my one colleague was gasp, not wearing a mask at all — as that was required if enforced before you even got past the deputy’s checkpoint. She was hoping to get out of there before the 1 a.m. benchmark where both our news agencies had set as when the bonus-round-time would kick in for pay.
It became clear that wasn’t likely. In the city of Hudson, not one of the first to send full results in, there were a full 5,000 absentee ballots filed, almost all the eligible voters and that obviously held things up. It seemed the bigger the municipality, the longer it took to quantify those last few votes. We saw coding of results that had never been there before, such as terms like under-reporting and over-reporting. The clerk tried to explain to us that some results were being posted before all absentees were in, just to move a process along, but she was having difficulty explaining a complex process that also included for accuracy sake, the twin concepts of some ballots voting for both for president candidates and some neither, much less the status of the handful of minor party reps.
Yet we were out of there just before 1 a.m. The total county turnout had been just under 60,000 — again virtually everyone who could vote did.
A quick check was made downtown before turning in for the night, and there were just a few sparse faces that weren’t well known — aside from a trio of on-duty or off-duty staffers — and not once did anyone mention that there was an election going on. One server said they were sorry that election tallies as they trickled in would not trump sports TV and the local sage who was on top of that, and I noted my AP connection. He said that might turn Dick’s into Richard’s. I said how about Dicky’s.
<<What then about the politics come Wednesday, now that I’m done digressing>>
Would we know more by the time the cocks crows, and it would indeed have to be twice? As far as the Biden ballots, and about which states it was enough to declare a winner by AP, on the road to an eventual overall winner, AP had electoral votes stuck at 246 for days (needing 270). Trump was frozen at 214, the agency said. Even after the ballots counted put Biden at just a bit over what was needed but only a bit, and he was then recognized as the winner, around noon on Saturday the AP call had him as high as 290.
In the Senate that day, the gridlock continued longer, with 31 of 35 races being called, and there was even more of a divide in the House races, as of Saturday afternoon.

Tick tock. It has been more than 24 hours since the polls closed, and still no president of choice. Kinda like having Shannon Zimmerman lead us although not being at the Capitol for 180 days or more (time is relative). So the themes ring true, whether voting about D.C. or my district, so satire follows …

November 5th, 2020

This is just more of the same kettle of fish. Even though what’s being decided among the big fish is still oceans apart, as the presidential election winner has not yet been called by AP, the issues spawned at even the local level are among the same. And as the fish wrappers throw out the latest numbers, there is still something that at a deeper level is, at least in some cases with the threats of legal action and challenges, fishy and it smelt.
With that said here is more analysis (yeah right) and satire about the western Wisconsin end of all these themes. And It’s All The Same, Only The Names Have Changed:
And see if you recognize these names, that went head to head: He claims she doesn’t promote area agriculture, but does that more typically mean what have come to be known as corporate farms all around and in western Wisconsin too, who have in cases fouled the environment with runoff. Not all of these are small scale, Happy Farms. That’s important because as you know in this state, It’s The Cows, even when it comes to advertising, politically when at times showing a politician shaking hands in an unusually tidy barn in the background, and otherwise. She actually is a family farmer herself and my wife knows her from doings at Catholic church and the obligatory bunch of kids — and from the time one of the members helped her out when she ran out of gas nearby on a county road.
Possibly related is the fallout from positions on flooding that often occurs in this region and actions to limit it, as developers are said to endanger wetlands, that have been addressed on party lines. As the St. Croix River rises and nears the doors of the Republican party office that’s headquartered within reach.
And as a rural issue, access to health care that can even be arranged to include hospital usage by keeping them open and functioning if you are not in a city, as was championed by candidate Sarah Yacoub. So be even more careful when operating that hay baler. And there’s more of a point to be made along those lines. She’s championed first and yes, secondary training for law enforcement and EMS personnel, to benefit the most, the kids. Like a flyer of an opponent that showed a preteen waving a flag and panning for votes, as his father was way in the background.. OK, maybe wait ten years for that.
I had mixed opinions of Shannon Zimmerman, who actually looks like Joey from Friends in one of his flyers. He early-on had some things that rather being vague assertions actually amounted to A PLAN, and hey, I didn’t even know that was legal in politics. See it when I get in there. One that attracted my attention was doing what can be done (euphemism) to keep high-tax-paying people — for now — living in the state and kicking into the coffers of Wisconsin rather than places like Arizona. And others said also about opps, create more of them for technical college, trade school, even starting with high school offerings, and apprenticeship programs, so such workers can get good jobs and not just a degree. They also need to deal with an aging work force, to in both cases go beyond greeters at Wal-Mart, not that there’s anything wrong with that. Along that line, it also was said be at least one candidate, that the virus situation — oh yeah, there’s that too — will be won by the efforts of the likes of teachers and, get this of all the tings to be specified, grocery store cashiers. What a career to single out. What a country.
But back to Zimmerman, who lauds himself as being a business owner, and father at 17, among other things. But what has escaped attention is what he did between that and 23, nowhere to be referenced in his flyers. What has been more prominent is the fact that he reportedly has held a different residence for residency purposes, you would think that would be redundant, than other strategic tax purposes, and hadn’t “showed up for work” at the Capital in a half a year. Maybe that’s why I’ve never seen that neighbor who “lives” in a mansion down the way. Like I live in a gated community. But hey, we’re told that everything he supports is “constitute driven.” I would hope that would be everything from everybody.

So for now I gotta go, even though I will add to this later; must check back in with AP, who I string for. My people gotta call there people, even though the polls closer over 24 hours ago. Hey, this level of importance means I now truly “need” people.

Now back to patty Schachtner, spoken about from above as not only a farmer but a bear hunting, ice-fishing mother (be careful Joe where you pout the hyphen) of six. She managed to fight (to use this word for the thousandth time this election season) to keep gun ranges open for target shooting so fans could take aim at imaginary bears when it was out of season. And she touted her role as a EMT and then a St. Croix County medical examiner who pledged to do battle on the front lines to aid those addicted to opiods — but pardon me, by the time they reach your desk, is it not too late save these people?

He said, she said. I’d say she wins out, because of looking great, just as a starter. So with this very day being Election Day, put on your best new fall (Starter?) jacket and accompanying attire, and weigh in on how much looks are important to voters.

November 3rd, 2020

Hey sex sells, whether in downtown Hudson bars or in a more subtle way the whole political scene. What do they say, men are pigs?

If you are not in the mode for a really big pig farm in your beloved St. Croix County, in an effort to protect its large stream and bunch of smaller ones, then check out the message of CAFO, not Coda, like the Zeppelin record,
(So I can say for the record, what follows is my Coda, verbage stuck in front of the existing story that was posted this morning).
So for the Pence factor, and he’s just gotta have a small rivalry with Trump at this point, six-Pence is halfway to a threesome (or did I get that backwards?) Either way, that sounds like a Party. (Ask Chad at Dick’s, yes you read that right, about the exact definition, in an old joke that goes back to the Obama years).
I’m sure Trump could help make the necessary arrangements, because we are told he is good at making things happen, in a Broad sense.

And that Billy Bush on the Bus thing? If another Bill, that being Clinton, would do the same things Trump bragged about, he would have had crosses being burned on his front lawn — even if its the White House where the barriers were up on Election Day — in virtual Real Time, which I know these days is not that recklessly different than meeting media deadlines. Because on a side note, its that ilk who buys and pays for what news they want you to hear — and forget that old (urban?) myth about the existance of a liberal media, especially locally. But I’m told, Clinton still gave it a shot to take it that next step and record the bus blather so he could get some tips as far as Come On Here Dear Boy, Have A Cigar, You’re Going To Go Far. So, Kid Rock for president as an alternative action? But I will be more reluctant to sway the way of hip-hop for presidential material, even if that’s a large part of what the party deejays locally play, as ‘cuz as even a black woman I encountered on a bus said: “This is all more stupid than the Kanye West Thang.” And this was “I’m on a Bus,” not “I’m on a Boat.” (Sorry Smilin’ Moose). So as far as who runs the country, with a musical background, I guess all we can do as it concerns recent relevations, is Carlos Santana.
But our now Bordering on third-rate country is on the verge of re-electing a second-rate president, as its really getting Stormy … again. What, he wasn’t that good, not to even breath the mention of, say, he wasn’t the best I’ve ever had? In this day and age, last word pertinent, having that not-so-long-a-slong can drop your ratings among, certain types of people who are envious anyway, a good 10 or 15 percentage points.
And your claim to fame is that you screwed a porn strar. Why is that your calling card unless … you are another porn star.
Maybe more of the powers that be, one-party sided as they are, would listen to me if I hailed from Russia, and had that kind of “influence,” not because I know the skinny supermodel/escort/porn star/wife for citizenship types from there, although that’s a route Trump went, or thought of going further even after the fact …

Virtually every woman running for office, as seen in local flyers, looks stunning. Even Supreme Court Justice Ginsberg, unwittingly a pawn in the whole political and election process even in her death that meant there would have to be a replacement, looked even nicer and charming in her obit photo then when there was a standard mug shot when she took that office when, decades ago?
And Sarah Yacoub, who could rightly feel she’s a scorned women (is that the right term?) over how she has been portrayed. The opposition seems to be trying, with considerable dollars, to portray her as — and sorry, this is the applicable term based on a fairly obvious read of their strategy — a hot mess. Like their most recent photo pulled out of the vault, showing her with oiled hair draped down over partially, one eye. Some friends of mine who model would agree this is the type of pose you would see in the likes of Cosmo, and they’ve preened for such shots. The first flyer go-round showed Yacoub in what looked like a booking photo, standing in front of a height chart having her around 5-foot-7 or more. Models are supposed to be that tall and they don’t exactly dress conservatively, at least in their shoots, when sporting their version of business attire. But all, please take to heart that some of those same people are MENSA candidates and quite capable. The age-old mantra to which I subscribe, that its OK to value someone for their looks, as long as that is not all you value them for. And they need to be reminded of that. I just did.
And in flyers, vice presidential candiate Harris –and not the bass player Harris for Iron Maiden that a friend of mine says she used to lust over — is shown in more than one flyer as part of a foursome of mug shots, looking over seemingly doe-eyed at the two men she is running against. Trump may not have a shot, but maybe, just maybe, there is (still) hope for Pence.
And as far as Bernie, well he’s just Bernie. As far as whatever became of him, we’ll introduce another one-time pop culture figure with not-so-hot looks: Weekend at Bernie’s.

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