Hudson Wisconsin Nightlife

When it comes to uncanny resemblance onstage that’s anything but canned, this weekend is what you want, and you also might wish to note the word play in their names, but not quite the same as in this post and my reference to Coldplay. They have done private events, but as is often said if you have to ask how much, you can’t afford them. Better to go to what follows and miss the cover. So Carry On and not Underwood (sorry).

October 9th, 2020

The more things change the more they are the same, such as when band members and their names sound like each other, with bonus points if at the same venue on the same weekend?

Shooters Pub in River Falls, as we have not plugged them for awhile because of the Pierce County 25 percent occupancy rule, so they say get there early, has bands on Friday and Saturday that sound much alike name-wise, but couldn’t be much more different as far as stage presence, if this is shown by sheer numbers. First there is the one-man-band of acoustic country, Travis Thamert, then the next night a four piece that rocks out a bit more, Bantix, with both country and yes, rock.

Urban Olive and Vine on Thursday night is where there is Aldo, who will be playing tunes from his new CD, Note by Note. The man looks much like the late Chris Cornell of Soundgarden, with a bit more gray and in the hair and lightness in skin tone, (a look aided when Looking Through the Front Window Glass by the vaporized streaming). They both resemble the musician who stands tallest in Lady Luck, who played the Willow River Saloon in Burkhardt land week, and will soon have a return engagement, so with a little trekking around here and there, on more than one weekend, you could see if you agree with my assessment of their features, because both rock and especially these days country, place a premium on appearance. That is underscored by the good looks of the lady in Lady Luck.

 

Hudson has succumbed to the wayward, (that’s a purposely vague term, I get it), coming from Minnesota, but now because of various types of added rowdiness (read more about boatloads on information on this here, and you’ll only get it here as much of this analysis comes from being on the local beat for decades, once all the various municipalities redact their ways) … the Hudson City Council has decreed that on the big bar nights of each and every weekend, there is a mandatory closing time of 10 p.m. through Jan. 3. (Ouch for New Years all-night-and-well-into-the-morning celebrations that have been typical). But it was decided this decision would not take effect until Friday night, which means there is still tonight to get your “rocks” off. It would seem that front and center is the on-and-off open mic session at Dick’s Bar and Grill — now that type of service is more the latter — but it is officially off tonight, via the co-owner. Thanks for that heads-up Rochelle.

That music was heavy on folk, light rock and even jazz, but sprinkle in some old-time music and you’ve got the one last thing that is appears to be a go, although things change by the hour. And the weekend closures at 10 are not only Friday and Saturday, but also Thursday, as high customer-traffic-weekend is defined, so Time Is Not On Your Side. But with that said, at Urban Olive and Vine, there is a duet or duo by that style that will indeed be on from 6-8 p.m. tonight, that being Thursday. (All such things seem to be wrapping up sooner than they had been, so maybe no third set or especially an encore). So you have to get their earlier than most typical rock shows that are being held locally. They also have killer food in styles you don’t always see — but hey, that is one of the greatest things about Hudson — so the tunes likely start when you are indulging in one of their trademark desserts. These days, food choices are being topped off to bring in a recurring base of customers, and that now is more vital then perhaps ever before. This option should be open on Thursday nights through the remainder of the year. Stay tuned for updates. When I called this venue and talked briefly to a staffer, she said, and go figure with the onslaught of Minnesotans, that they were so busy there was no time to talk. What band was playing? Couldn’t really tell and the owner/chef didn’t have time to look it up. But A Message From Above, you get the genre(s) you are likely to hear. Last before I go scope all this further, and will report back, it is the CRITICAL need to note that all that’s at play for music and nightlife depends on the fact that the CITY of Hudson is not the only game in town, there are the adjoining villages and towns by the same name, and even the county as a whole that are not effected by the city’s weekend early closure action. Skies still basically the limit for weekends there, except for the mask and distance and capacity requirements that are often ignored anyway.

And there is the Cowboy Country every Thursday night at Ziggy’s; haven’t heard of any changes although they can occur at any time. And ongoing as-far-as-day piano bar and acoustic one-man shows will not be belabored because they are done playing, including encore, before the closure shuts things down (and will the local cops be out in force to enforce such things)?

So where to go tonight (Friday) and Saturday? There are music hot spots that fall under a different municipality’s rules, or lack of new ones to this point. In the town of Hudson, note that’s different than the city, there have always been band(s) every weekend at Uncle Mike’s in the old JR Ranch building across from the truck stop, and closing time is still roughly the same closing time. Much the same at Big Guys BBQ Roadhouse, and the last word should tell you where to look, halfway between North Hudson and Houlton, as they’ve typically had at least one band in a weekend. And all kinds of different music-and-otherwise-based offerings are at T-Buckets, are just a jog to the northeast. As you push eastward into St. Croix County there are other small bergs that also are under different rules, and they should till be fair game for full bar time on the weekend, although again, things could change on a dime, so maybe call first before venturing over, or just hit one of the other spots, still open, in the vicinity. And at least as far as municipal rule, Willow River Inn in Burkhardt can strive forward with their not one-but-two band a weekend regimen. To actually name a name, there is Blue Moon Drive there tonight (Saturday) for what regrettably could end up being a gig that’s once in a blue moon. And then there is ol’ Village of North Hudson, which appears to have bars taking much the same tack as their counterparts to the south in the city as far as hours, although not quite as stringent — depending on the day or the week.

Back several days, the bars in one fell swoop in both the city and village decided to close at 2 p.m. on weekends, not 2:30, to lessen the rush of people from the Twin Cities running northward to get a one last drink at last call. Phone lines were open between the various bars to see who might be still coming by, and brace yourself if in the village for a bit of possibly questionable behavior. Thus, Starr’s Bar has been closing down at midnight on most nights, but even moreso they do go right up to the last few minutes before showing people the door, and being nice while being assertive. Across the way at the Village Inn, a 10 p.m. limit has set for weekends for people to enter, and while that is being enforced almost to the minute if your party is large, regulars might be let in on the QT up until say, 10:15, bartenders said. In what may be a first for North Hudson, there will be a doorman watching the clock. How long to stay open is a grey area, and may depend largely, as you would guess, on just how many people are inside into the wee hours. In the middle of last week, it was said that although being totally slow at around the witching hour, there had been big spurts, so the possibility of holding out until 2 p.m. was still being held open. Same on Thursday night, but after being busy, then very slow, the hoards all piled in around 12:30. But Starr’s was as busy at it has ever been on a weekday, and maybe even more.

Now to speak of Sunday, Jeff Loven at Dick’s indeed brings on a whole new surge of immediacy, as the 10 p.m. curfew is — and will be — lifted as of the day before, as it’s no longer considered the weekends we have all been working for, but a new day into the next week. And the one-man-band just might need just a bit of backup, as he is broadening out for the first time to at least one other Hudson venue. It’s in the works. Read about it here. And the other option you might consider, again variable, is the music at Madison Avenue Spirits, tucked away on The Hill just past Fleet Farm, and you want to talk about additional comfort food? They have cool candy for about half the price of other stores, when on special. As for Sundays, they typically have had bands early, Like Urban Olive and Vine does on the other side of the week, so they have the new rules kicked both ways.

<<There still are trophies to be had and tunes to be heard here, maybe, as the virus deaths over yonder have hit a new level. What is old is, also, new again>>.

But with that said, on Saturday, Dec. 12, there is a makeup for the dearth of bands in some places with Big Guys BBQ Roadhouse going back to the roots of rock and more with its first band in December, Rubber Monkey, not be be confused with Rubber Soul by The Beatles or Shock The Monkey by Peter Gabriel. Also, the Willow River Saloon in Burkhardt bucks the trend and pushes onward with two bands EVERY weekend. (They do skip Dec. 25). There is the Centerville All-Stars (Saturday, Nov. 28), which are a throwback to old musical/baseball type stuff, methinks. More on that bit later. And if you missed Dean Weisser the night before, take heart and soul, he will be back there on both Dec. 18 and 31, at that’s the big New Year’s Eve party, of course, like I have to tell you.

And if you have had too much turkey (leftovers count) and it makes you sleepy, or from partying too much on biggest bar night(s) or sitting in the deer stand or even in front of the football TV screen too long, or maybe all three of those (mere mortals can only pull off two), there is 99 cent coffee at both the old Freedom Station and the nearby just-to-the north Kwik Trip, but its at the old Freedom that it specifies in big ads it includes all coffee sizes and the Big C version too.

 

So, you need to do the quick remake of a Thanksgiving dinner. But the guests will soon be here, before the halftime shows resume, and some stores for those last ingredients may have closed early anyway. So what to do? Make it indeed a remake, as I will show you, again, how to use what you likely have in the fridge already, and if nothing else, pare down what you need from the store to round it out, in the time taken by a timeout — as its so easy for the people you are welcoming to food and Packer football. And I am not going to list specifics of how many cups for each ingredient, as I will leave that up to you and yours, to taste, and maybe a bit of trial and error with adding a bit more of a thing to balance out the mix — as you have the time.

Start with turkey, and as has been pointed out in flyers, you have to get the smoked flavorful of this ingredient Just Right, and we are not talking about the Old School cereal. And by the way, just what is “natural smoke flavor.” Seems contradictory, but you can win it as a cook by taking a few toothpicks and pointing one into the bird where light on this seasoning, two for a middling amount, and three for getting hotter for all to see as a guide. Just have to make room on the countertop. But less contradictory, at least for Wisconsin, is the idea of beer baste in the turkey where stuffing should go — and maybe still could. The recipe that my sources tell me — and I will not reveal in case their idea tanks and you wasted a whole can of brew — calls for just flipping open the pop top, Jimmy Buffett style, sticking it in and allowing the juices to mingle. OK I get it, that does not sound good.

What sounds  better is that old holiday staple, cranberries, and here I do have to invoke going to the store and while their at my fave, Kwik Trip, you can also buy a low-priced and likely discounted take home meals — again in a pinch. But the old question of jellied versus whole berry? Hey, cans of it can be found for about a buck, so offer both, the difference in texture shown by using a fork for propping up the berries. And maybe do what my mom used to with her hard steel grating grinder, mix in a batch of oranges and apples for an extended version of the taste.

In the following half-baked recipes, there is plenty of chance to spice up and then chill out, with these things that just seem to go with anything and, again, can likely be in plain view in your spice rack: Oregano leads the way, and also minced onion, garlic of course, red pepper flakes if used sparingly, all spice, breakfast topping and basil, which can be within. For your ham, if you are a ham family and not a turkey-goer, consider this for a new glaze: a slightly creamy salad dressing such as hummus-based, goddess, or some Italian, with yellow and brown mustard mixed in and can be used in combo with horseradish or stone-ground base, and then the topper, literally, of hot sauce or maybe chipolte, then all stirred together, although The Last In Line can be used as a drizzle. Some of that leftover hot sauce, you don’t want to overdo it and offend Odd Uncle Sid and his well-known blandness that’s part of his old-guy act, can be drizzled over French cut green beans for a bit more zip. Or on regular cut green beans, top off with a few of the glazed and sliced pecans that are atop the pie that I know you as a chef supreme are offering later.

Stuffing can be used as essentially salad croutons, all sorts of zowed up green and red bell peppers and sliced onions and even bits of hot peppers (watch out Uncle Sid) as a garnish on relishes and pickles and olives, the forementioned minced onion on sweet potatoes with the brown sugar that should be in greater supply for the dish, and vanilla to amp up your desserts.

Two things: With your regular deserts add a new variety of ice cream, in the form of sea salt caramel as a friend swears by; and for Thanksgiving Eve, slice small tomatoes and take the cauliflower that is always the first veggie to fade and apply olive or canola oil and mix in any of the above spices that can include cilantro, and then can be zapped in the microwave for an even two minutes. Add slices of cheeses from our state, or serve separately, and can be given a bit of extra sizzle when applying those spices.

Hope these quick and inexpensive dishes can make your dinner shine and even clean out the fridge as you go. You don’t have to be a pro, as I know. Joe.

 

What? He’s given you the news? Because Super Bug contamination has proven to be only growing, that would be the soon-to-be-finalized decree coming out of Minnesota that there will be renewed closures, thus going back to the future, although targeted in an anti-virus response leaning very far to what have been identified as the worst offender categories, and it starts with bar and grills, and in ways that may continue onward the 25 percent rule of capacity. Whew! That’s written contamination, as needed with Walz as the culprit. Hey, New Richmond was schooled on that — even if its not old schooled — and the response of taverns over Halloween was to have a Hard To Handle Now approach toward managing numbers that can be gained via use of that old standby, making it only private parties. So what to do? The answer is not Blowin’ In The Wind, rather not blowing smoke when I say its Three Doors Down (or blocks?) from the Village Inn in North Hudson Into The Southland residential area. And yes, we are talking garage band stuff, literally, if you can find the right garage. That’s where there have been regular jams led by that Old Tyme leader of the band, strummer Bob, in the vein of taking his beyond-classic-rock guitar to heights if not new, then scattered, followup to open mic days going back before the Millennium switching. They want to hone their act, he and his old standbys, by rehearsing, before taking their act on the road, even if that road is only the St. Croix Valley, but who knows could even find them among the weekend music lineup that continues to the north, unlike some, at Big Guys BBQ Roadhouse. And could you join in when The Boys Are Back in that garage. Well, yes, if you can find it as one might the old Safehouse venue. Just bring your voice and/or an instrument and they will likely accommodate you with an albeit small stage or platform for your talent, unlike the standards that have to be met if they bring you up mid-concert at one of their actual concerts.

Want music all day? Then jam for Jayme, the exuberant and energetic and longtime sprite of a fast-moving server at Next Stop Bar in Houlton, who has been diagnosed with cervical cancer. A benefit at Ziggy’s in Hudson will go on virtually all day on Sunday, Nov. 8, with band stacked upon band and beginning at 2 p.m. so you can check out just a bit of football first, also. There also is a large-scale silent auction. And if you can’t wait that long for music, Apollo’s Beacon is playing the night beforehand until 1 a.m.

What plays in Vegas stays in Vegas, but it starts with winning a killer costume contest at T-Buckets in rural Somerset on Halloween eve, that gets you three days and two nights in the city offering the best in entertainment in the U.S. — after T-Buckets that is.

The contest judging is at midnight, the witching hour, although the party will have been rolling for four hours by that time, and it goes on to bar close. Second prize in the costume contest is $100 and third $50, and even that would get you 25 of the jello shots that will be sold all night for $2 in this, the seventh annual Halloween party on Saturday night. There also is a DJ and karaoke from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m., a full five hours worth, as well as hauntingly good specials on snacks and apps.  The show is so pumped up that one of the staff members at T-Buckets has been given the exclusive assignment of coming up with frightening ways to make your evening fun.

Then on Sunday, it is pro football, in this case the big Border Battle that stretches just a bit away from the boundaries into western Wisconsin, taking center stage, and with it a potluck and huge drink specials — in the T-Buckets tradition that always has happy hour prices going for a whopping 3-for-1. In this case on Game Day it’s on volumes of beer and $5 Captain Morgans and you get to keep the mug.

Sweet Beets in New Richmond is far beyond a bakery, and they will show it midday on Saturday, as Halloween comes calling. There are “dark” (chocolate) black pieces of eight-or-more of cool, decked-out-for-the-holidays desserts that are as great to look at as eat. There also are holiday themed cakes in which to indulge, and can be ordered ahead if you really get going and follow up on this post, and the trio-or-more include one that has Frankie written all over it, and can be sampled just like the big hands of a zombie, That Are Pointing Right At You, with their fingers that are also an edible, or so says Iron Maiden. And they will be made from scratch as the dawn rises, just like from the trucks of flour that arrive every morning. What is all the fuss with these treats, and more of the more typical things you would expect to see, in addition, to get the kids juiced on sweets? Check these out before trick-or-treating …

Kozy Korner has bought Guv’s Place and there are changes for his holiday in North Hudson … or are there? The same over-the-top Halloween decorations are in place, plus that skeleton that has been seen hanging over and out on one of the many sports bar TVs, but at an angle so he could watch the Wisconsin teams. (More on that in a bit). And that beastie has been slumped in its place for awhile, at which time its this-year, new creator and arranger said she had more coming, and there were dozens of creatures already that were pinned to the ceiling that would vouch for that. Its old creator and former owner had passed the torch, but left it in good hands, before she decided to give a shot to moving her game on down to Texas — to follow as No. 1 fan a Little ‘Ol Band methinks, but hey that actually is Motley Crue. One could say this kinda, sorta amounts to Jessie Does Dallas? And the game that lives on at the New Guv’s with new owners is both darts and sand volleyball, and they had gotten going with the two-on-two bumps in the night as one of the first, and most legal, ways to reopen after virus, when the weather first starting making it seem like an option. And your other option to take in the haunt is the Halloween party, so mark your calendars for Friday night as we all could not wait, when there will also be a duo playing tunes (mostly acoustic) and a hint — it’s not Kyle who had been the standby for many a such gathering, so there will be — dare I say it — new blood!

 

<<Welcome back to the hottest who are cool! Lipstick Dynamite is at Ziggy’s in Hudson on Friday night, and you know what you are getting from this party band by the name, specifying the lead singer, who looks like, and has the looks, of two other women I know who are always hot on the local scene. In addition in that vein and well deserved vanity, and I hope I don’t hit a vein, just where are you these days, AJ of Boogie Wonderland? Haven’t seen you, twice, since Hudson’s Booster days shut down, and I was in the crowd — a recall back to a backstage brief encounter at the old Dibbo’s, in the cafe really, when the millennium was turning. Maybe tonight …

And as far as the famed sorta namesake, Bonaparte, from way back in France? Google called him a “statesman.” He came up sixth on my hits list search, as far as having a stature complex. And I gotta say it again, the late Ronnie James Dio, from the trusted source of Maxim magazine — don’t see them on the shelves much anymore — ranked as 16th in the top short people of all time. Some are revered, moreso, only after their death. More on this in a coming post, and the connection that has local tangents, from knowing Eddie Van Halen, also now deceased. Also, the ways decades-long local musicians are chomping at the bit to get playing again … with sparse opportunity.>>

They all reached out and touched us, with personal attention that at times was handwritten. How’s that for stimulus? And its from the Republicans, Democrats, Independents, shades of Red and Blue, Know Nothing Party … and yes even God!

October 6th, 2020

The reaching out and touching you personally, if only via the mail and we’re talking snail mail not the internet kind, was a big deal in the series of latest elections and was the height of, in some candidates’ cases, what could be seen in the spirit of franking privileges gone out of control. The mailbox got stuffed just as full as the ballot box. And even the ultra-religious types got into the act when inserting their version of the message.

So you as a voter cannot let your guard down. Because They Want You, big finger and beyond pointed thusly. Since slim resources are stretched even further, right at the heart of the much-spoken-in-flyers “fiscal responsibility,” this and you are vital, maybe even a greater on-going priority (tangent alert!) than sending the National Guard Every Which Way But Lose. If you’re stationed in one of the two such Hudson centers that there have been for recruitment and headquartering (I think that is military-speak), you I guess may have needed to either follow the order of Gov. Evers, taking precedence I think,  and go fight wildfires up north as ordered by his emergency decree, or go to the up-north Twin Cities to standby for protest control, as ordered by Gov. Walz. What is a border town soldier to do? I have seen some staffers come out of their center in the Buffalo Wild Wings strip mall quite late in the evening, no doubt putting in extra time and trying to get a manpower handle on such things. For the need for their services is everywhere, and no state is excluded.

(Tangent expires). A lot of this was a huge effort to get out the vote, by both parties mind you, and even all the cable channels going way beyond the old MTV push to get young people to go out and vote — in the many different ways that are largely absentee-based and now available that were not there in the time of our forefathers —  before they could legally patronize a bar. Vote by mail, essentially? Got that. Although exactly where around the “age of majority” ties in, hasn’t necessarily stopped them from partaking in either of those things.

A campaign flyer, still sitting in my write-about-it stack, showed Trump waving to a crowd at a full football stadium, and I don’t know how social distancing fits into the picture. Right around where his big fist is thrust upward, there was what looked to be luxury boxes. Support the Great American comeback? Might ask Joe Montana about them pre-empting his claim to fame if and when he ever gets back to River Falls, in the heart of where this Red State falls, for training along the lines of the seniors circuit. And how doe this get personal as far as a pledging to you, the voter? The lingo of “voting in-person absentee” takes up a full two dozen repeated words, sent straight to you via the U.S. Postal Service. They must think you are important.

So much so they want you, yes you, by special flyer invitation, to grab up some of the “all-new legal tender $2 bills,” with Trump on the cover. I joked earlier that I saw a license plate on what could have been a poor man’s post-bankruptcy limo with the starting letters 4.95, boasting the price you could expect to pay for a glass of champagne While Back There, in today’s economic recovery period. But wait! I then saw another vehicle that wasn’t quite as long, that would be a stretch, with the numbers 3.95. Deflation? So in our time of recovery, you could get a glass of the bubbly for your two $2 bills, and still have a Nickelback as a tip. All the while being driven through the outback of northern Wisconsin and its colored forests with a path for the campaign trail and also barns, as these are about the only images you will see on all those flyers.

They also request that neighbors get together and drive together to the polls if transportation is an issue, and postcards about such went from friend to friend, as “the future is what we do together. Be  a voter. Raise a voter.” They often were from groups, if even in a third party sense, with names like Common Sense Voters of America LLC. For sure wouldn’t want that trait. Dead set against Prosperity also. And another saying, I’m for the children. Nope. And the Center For Voter Information said they had info about me, this information being a prompt to hit the polls and cast my ballot, because its was a mater of public record that I hadn’t done so yet. This was being provided to me,  “as a service to voters like you.” What do I say about this prompt from the Voting Police? I think I might cast my fly fishing rod instead.

And then there is that solicitation from God Himself. And did you know that since he goes by only the name I Am, and there is no other identifying group, all that’s listed is a Post Office Box. As in PO Box 1, Hudson. I think that’s by Exit 1. For more info, it says, visit JW.ORG. As in my initials, for Joe Winter. I didn’t know I was held in such high esteem!  “The website will direct you to the Bible instead of giving personal opinions. (The Koran is out). It has information available in over 1,000 languages.” Does this mean they are speaking in tongues?

 

And then there was more! I called Dick’s Bar before hitting the road to see if there were very many people there to speak of, Minnesotans and their newly put-forward-even-more-popularly draw, or with other geography, as a destination, and thus make it worth my trip. I didn’t know what to expect in these rapidly changing times, set forth by rapidly changing rules. The server who answered said it was, to paraphrase him, deader then the dead of even death metal — are you kidding as not seems not possible? — just five patrons and him, but thanks for asking brother. So few people he had an exact count at a moments notice, when the press — that’s me — came calling.

Back at Starr’s Bar,  and I know I need to diversify the venues from which I report, there were a scant few patrons over and above that number in the new North Hudson hub, but wait! A guy came up to the bar and said that he and his Gopher State buddies now have a new go-to place or two on this side of the river — do I ever get tired of that reference? And they will be Charging On To The Place Of Which So Many Speak, and there are a bunch of them, and how long can you hold open last call? And across the way, a guy that reeked more of Wisconsin sauntered up and said he needed a bit more change to play on yet again with the video poker, but all he really wanted to do is flirt with the bartender.

And all these people do need to, in the final analysis and does HudsonWiNightlife ever really wrap anything up, get home after their bar time, which may indeed be shorter for an unspecified-by-the-government, and aided and abetted by the club owners, period of time. And to be clear, it all is about what’s going on Over There with crime and its enforcement, with unfortunately can at times be one and the same. To wit, about what I wrote earlier, that you will be pulled over for something as minor as a small bulb that’s a dull bulb scenario above your license plate if its out, and the cop will ask where you are coming from: This from a guy I know who on probably too many occasions has had to deal with such situations — they will do their best to separate the actors in the car from each other and rephrase, hoping to see if their stories are the same.

So you are are a kind soul and gave your a-bit-swarmy friend a lift back home, all the time negotiating The Highway That Is The Danger Zone that is the Twin Cities and its current hyper-enforcement. You didn’t know that in the bowels of the back seat, he would pull out a bottle of beer and open it. The fishing by the cops when they stop guys like you for some of the above reasons soon finds more, like he has an active warrant. These days, especially, you do not want to have to deal with that situation. So be kind and be charitable with your riders, but above all else be diligent about things like the merits of, say, picking up a hitchhiker. Keep your friends close but … And keep it at that.

<<And now on the brighter side of life>>

It is the Thursday-Friday time of year again for the Cherry Circle North garage sale, to beat both the winter doldrums and the stir craziness that continues to mount. Score of houses offering anything you could want, if you have a buck — even possibly snacks such as chili, and beverages such as hot chocolate, as the forecast is for cooler temps. But there is no browsing fee of course. And I talked to the longtime fearless leader of this effort, now in its second decade, about what might be seen as its over-the-top merits. I don’t know, she said, but then started rattling off hot topics of interest that just kept rolling off her tongue. So I will get more specific: Check out the cool Harley at 637.

 

Two Minutes To Midnight? How fast can you chug one beer and only one, and maybe have to make it a shot. (OK, I know I really have to watch how I use that last word, especially these days. But I swear I had no intention of double meaning just a moment ago).

As I approached Starr’s Bar from the north, I saw fewer cars than usual along what is basically a frontage road for the tavern. But there was music in the streets, OK it was just in the back area where the bean bags are tossed. And the side door was locked. However, there was an ad hoc doorman by the south entry, who bore even worse bad tidings.

It was right on the cusp of midnight, and I still was turned away based on the edict that came forward earlier that evening. No new people allowed in after 12 because of the shooting by an officer in Minnesota days earlier. Could I at least get a coke to go? No, since they do not have even sippy cups. So instead, a run to the bathroom?

So I made my way and was stopped briefly by a now not so young man who I used to photograph when he played high school sports and I was the official cheerleader in those pages. Thanks for saying hello, but I motioned to the doorman that I knew my time was very limited and hit the can. On the way back, the bartender seemed ready to indicate that I could at least have something served, but alas, nothing. The two women who tried to enter as I exited didn’t seem to thrilled by the new policy, although it likely is temporary. Have to wonder if service also has been voluntarily cut short by 120 minutes elsewhere too.

Things had been quite a bit different about a week ago, when what was most memorable at an almost packed bar was the interplay, not protracted but also not brief, between a Packer fan at one end and a Viking fan at the other. How can catch better and run faster, and boatloads of info to back it up, and lets have another beer. And what have you heard about the trials of Adrian. Sad story about the bestess back who now probably could not afford a drink at this place in North Hudson. But the area was full all the way back to the long wall where they were rolling what I call mini-bowling.

 

So read ’em and weep. Or more likely, laugh your guts (and brains) out, as gallows humor should win the day. Here is more news of the silly — do you believe it? — and if you do look at the calendar, and the day that was yesterday when April rolled in.

— First off, HudsonWiNightlife got yet another major endorsement. And this one is way beyond the scope of the One Tiny Berg of Pig Farmers of Iowa, (we all pick on that state but they love it as they get the joke). It comes from the global and beyond online magazine of Elect To View The Best and Most Available Humor This Side Of The Solar System. A reference that spewed from it: Planet Caravan by good ol’ Ozzy and Black Sabbath. That might sound bad, but with the holiday that is soon upon on, the “S” word is always applicable.

— Going back to another holiday, when the Ground Hog appeared back in February, he saw the chaos that’s What Is And What Should Never Be, and said screw this, I’ll come back in two months — that’s yesterday — and see if things have gotten any better. HudsonWiNightlife indeed has its correspondents working overtime all around the globe, and OK it is actually only encompassing a two-state area, barely, to try to get an interview with the Hog. The upshot: Pres Trump saw what could be coming and buried himself — literally and figuratively — in a bunker Way On Down Below,  which just happens to be the lower level of where the ground hog lives. Cuz could nuclear war be on the way? You never know, sings Megadeth, the name of which, of course, is a reference to the millions of estimated deaths from such a calamity. Happy Easter message! But I find that gallows humor is always better than crying in your beer, of ye Wisconsinites.

— The latest news is that the Minnesota legislature has endorsed — that word again — the medical use of the weed and its wonders. But only under some very stringent conditions tied to the bill: It’s only when driving in a car pool as a last Brooklyn cheer to social distancing, as you are no longer required to work from home and can commute since you were evicted anyway, and you are required to a have great big ol’ flag flopping around in the back part of your (foreign) Subaru behind your passengers. The bill was signed into law at a one-time different venue then the capital in downtown St. Paul, which is a dead and often lifeless entity anyway, while the politicians “relaxed,” and see what that means above, all the while at the club.

OK, I’ll stop now, and if you haven’t figured it out already, this is one big April Fool’s Joke, which is a joke in itself since it is now The Second of the month. I hope that you don’t find this humor too caustic, as again, we all need to laugh more these days. May the Easter Bunny and God bless you, although not necessarily in that order. Joe.

And in past news …

A post a bit below talked about holding out; would HudsonWiNightlife do that? Well especially this time, yes, as with all the various people of all types hitting downtown Hudson at night, there was the very unfortunate incident of a multiple stabbing that resulted in a fatality. Breaking out of newspaper lingo, a man was killed. And it was all over the Twin Cities news by the next morning or so, which is incredible since the main source of such news traditionally has been the metro dailies, one more than the other depending on the incident and location, especially if in Wisconsin or close to the border, and I know from working closely with both of them — again one more than the other — that the deadline for their print product has been around 9 p.m. with tweaks for weekends. And there can be ways to hold it out, that term comes up again, away from the hands of the printer throwing it on physically — at least that’s the way it was done in past days, the time of my reporting involvement — for something like a sporting event, the more the prominence the more the extra minutes an ink stained wretch had. Which says something about our priorities; screw the typical town board meeting. (And I understand the extra pressures of these deadlines, indeed on everyone, as I’ve had to deal with them also for many years). But now there are many other players, and especially if you consider online, and even different products within the same company.

So the fact that the news hit the street and the computer so fast, and you could say shit hit the fan, shows that this was deemed vital information, which again was probably driven by the fact it took place in hoidy toidy, often rich person Hudson, sleep river town that it not longer is and has not been for decades. If this happened in North Minneapolis it would likely be only a short recitation of the police blotter.

The killing happened a few weeks ago, and on its heels was a robbery at the Willow River Saloon in Burkhardt, a notably less pristine area, that also involved what was termed a kidnapping. And earlier in the year, there was a really bad accident at the Cedar Lake venue just north of New Richmond where a vehicle ended up grinding its wheels in an outdoor volleyball court until there was sand up to near the floorboard level, before police apprehension took place. Neither resulted in any Twin Cities news coverage whatsoever.

This could be explained in the latter case because it was post-Covid-closure-time, which ruled how border-to-border relations between the two states were covered, especially when it comes to bars and their music and all that goes with that. But then the fact that an employee gets locked in a safe and/or another such area and uses their wits to get out of a really bad situation? I guess there has to be an alleged murder involved for the new coverage to then pull away from what is the coolest new toy at Target …

So I waited this long before writing this column, until maybe, just maybe, the fodder of Year’s Eve might yield to the doldrums of January and there would be a followup. That would still be a few more hours, but reporters get schooled to think in terms of deadlines so … What follows is an analysis, if I can use that word, of just what was aired about the death incident itself. And its all been written as a criticism of sorts before, but never seems to take at the higher levels that determine any sort of nuance.

First, the city of Hudson was said to have a population of 14,000. Last I heard we were simply flirting with 10,000, where it had been for a bit, and the greater Hudson area has been listed around 50,000 and still growing, which again, is something the city hasn’t really been seeing. So I don’t know where the 14,000 figure came from, unless its really up to the minute with the Minneapolis transplants. And the online images that are always posted with such pieces, and really show nothing new if at all, because they can be pulled without ever sending a staffer out of the newsroom. They again showed all kinds of shots of the the “Hudson” dike sign, trite as ever, alth0ugh some were summer and some winter, and few if any actually said “file photo” underneath. These area reasons that many Hudsonites don’t really trust the Twin Cities media — or the Star-Observer either — and may view such papers and other news outlets even moreso with outright dislike.

If they really wanted to dredge up something interesting, they could point to Old Dibbo’s Days of bananas for free entry and virtual, before that had a different meaning, Fighting In The Streets, but most of their reporters probably had not been born yet. But some of the tales are still fresh in the minds of local elders, and they know that they frame how people Who Are Experienced view western Wisconsin. They were brought to mind when The Village Inn held a night with Austin Healy for a $10 entry — overpriced — and a buck or so off if you brought, you guessed it, a banana. You can get about 40 of them for a dollar across the way at Kwik Trip, so where goes social distancing when limos-full take full advantage? And that is in the village of North Hudson, not the city of Hudson.

And the local muck-ity-mucks were quick to put on it their own spin, carefully chosen, saying things like “this criminal entity is not normal here,” referring to some of the new local clientele, without giving any real hint on just who these people might be. (See a later post for more on that, as it may be continuing a trend that is not all that new).  Yes, you could say that entity might be here if you look at the increased litter by curbs and the doorways of shops in the wrong places, but I didn’t note much change in the occasion bits of vomit you might see there. The stabbings took place outside the Smilin’ Moose, which has had a certain level of rowdiness that the City Fathers tried to quell when they wouldn’t let the place take the actual name of its other franchise-and-connections from Minnesota, which I at the time thought was heavy handed, but now have to hand it too them. There has been too much of the ambulance-call-and-other-type-of-thing there. Just too much general drunkenness, but Covid had seemed to have put a limit to that. (And I will say, The Moose has been much better than other clubs with putting their money where their mouth is as far as mask requirements). Other comments were that trouble of this type can come if there is too high of a celeb rating, and other ways that bad can come from being desirable, such as the hazards these virus days of travel to other states.

I first heard of the death a bit after the fact, as I too have steered away from the downtown, like many locals, to a degree, but then heard it calling for a reunion, socially. And as far as my other hat, reporters don’t know things until others tell them. So I had to ask if the occasionally seen ruckuses had gotten any worse, when I did stop by, in this case at Dick’s Bar. The staffer looked disgusted, hadn’t I heard, and said there had been the death of someone he termed as a homeless person — they can be targeted in any city, but it was not the case this time — then glanced in a given direction up the street and said he didn’t want to talk about such a tragedy, look it up online.

In the news.

 

One Thing Leads To Another, or not, as people chose to pick and choose, putting out signs and other stuff for either Halloween or elections, but rarely both even though the two were — often jointly — topical. There was the blip, but only the blip, created over Thanksgiving, as even on what became to be called the Black Monday afterward, bars close to the shopping were ordered closed and largely and thusly not open to fill any void from not getting that Most Precious Toy, and we know you went close to typical bar time to try to rectify the situation. And how do and did they cope with this, in this new landscape of staying at home and the stir craziness it breeds — and maybe that is not the only thing who breeds? Why indeed signing in and putting up your Christmas lights and such, usually in the front yards of fairly modest homes, as early as the time when Labor Day passed, to pass the time — and people have been using their cooped up energy for months, devoting it to a whole range of home improvement projects, very often much larger in scope than chance would dictate, and shelling out plenty of money for a contractor and/0r a sub, or just getting their sweat out themselves. So this takes in the trifecta of holidays, and with each that passes there is a vast change in the number of small but largely home, lawn and garden remodeling ads that appear, at times almost a dozen, with new ones always popping up, at the intersection of Sommers and Sixth. I Don’t Know Why. But I do know, what about New Years …

 

If I only can hold out a few more minutes … That’s the timetable set by my elections editor with Associated Press, where their version of overtime pay kicks in — 1 a.m. Still, not a bad work day, since the polls did not close until 8 p.m. or possibly a bit thereafter, depending on who you talk to. So thanks to her fielding several phone calls on, uhm, what was that 800 call center number again, I was able to hustle from my main hustle to my side hustle with UPI — oh oh, did I violate my agreement of not also working for the competition, and double dipping when it comes down to double candidates? OK, just kidding and by the way, does UPI still exist, at least here in the States? Maybe have to throw my hat in the ring with Reuters! After All, I’m For All I Can Get, If You Know What I Mean, and this worker-bee attitude can even be seen on the aforementioned and allegedly eighth continent, all of which just might be what Trump called the eighth wonder of the world — FoxConn. Does that number include the Trojan Horse?

— Eddie Van Halen is in the news, as referenced above, for having passed on. One of his favorite emulaties, (is that a word, and I’m sorry,  it is now), is the oft-mentioned Jeff Loven, the biggest, baddest one-man-band-in-town, OK the entire Twin Cities. He will get his first chance to display his likewise, often two-handed and lightning speed guitar skills in Hudson on Sunday night at Dick’s Bar. Front and center is likely to be his take on Eruption, I say take because he will typically add a fill or two, maybe via the whammy bar. Hey that’s what happens when a guitar shredder is stuck at home with the family for a couple or three months! And he is now back in fine form, so you be the judge.

Loven even won a contest, from similar guitar god Steve Via, back in his days when playing with the speed metal outfit Obsession back in the 1980s, and at that time posed and did a few licks with Van Halen himself. The photo of the two showed Loven rather Elf-like with his long hair, and was reminiscent of the late Ronnie James Dio in stature, by just a bit from when the two shared many a concert stage — and see the comparison extended when Loven recorded his Heavy Metal Polka at a bar east of Hudson a number of years back. For his part in the photo, Van Halen was looking much more like Van Damme then himself in later pix after cancer, sadly, prompted his death. He’d come a long way, well past when his band was dubbed Van Hagar, as was again noted by one of my friends the other night, and since racist comments about his mixed ancestry — partly Dutch — plagued him in early years. That would never have bothered my wife, who would often join me in dancing when the mega-hit Jump was played when we were at an event.

And I’m sorry to say, all this long-before-its-time-death reminds one on this side of the river about its now a few year’s old death by plane crash, taking a North Hudson pilot and also including some youngsters, in much the same manner and number, and age of the victims and the time of year, as the late Kobe Bryant. RIP to all.

 

You can’t make this shit up! So I will simply comment on the news and Trump it, and refer you to the hard core metal band Testament, the bastions of Good as they now are, and their latest Prophetic release, (and who says Hollywood, loosely speak, is not the real truth — note no question mark):
In order, as the Non-Rich understand these days in their social media:
— Showtime has delayed the erring, (or in their vernacular airing), of a “clash” broadcast that could, conceivably, if that is even now possible, air pro-Trump content via a debate. Clash? Listen to me sing the more astute punk rock version on Any Given Sunday, as Dick’s via Jeff Loven, as the source of new debate.
— Twitter has barred those who tell what we all are thinking, (again statute version). Look a few posts down and you will get what I mean. Dead Donald? Could be AT LEAST A LITTLE BIT WORSE, (attorneys insisted on all caps as a backup to the truth), as a Twit would say if British and Monty Python — when that’s your source of quality info, it’s hell to pay. And the source of this info? Allegedly (again covering my massive butt), Chinese propaganda was at tell, and at least that’s not the Russians.
— What if Trump would die, and I am sorry to say that it would indeed bother me greatly, we would then get Pence, at least for the time, but would that be more ala Six-Pence? A meaner than I commentator on social media noted that Melania could “remarry” Pence, as he might be young enough to Get It Up. Donald would have to cite his sources before going to His Reward.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE A DICK ABOUT THIS. I’m mouthing this stuff because I care about this country more than I care about wealth, and that’s rare. Information is a good thing, and the truth will rise to the top. (Check out the archives for the classic, Social Contract). So check out the single by Testament, that came out a few months ago, right when the virus fully took hold, called False Prophet, and they turned out to be the real prophet. It’s trademark line: “When you were reaching out for your God, was he there?” And again, note the upper case G. We could all learn something from such music, and it’s referred to right and left on this web site. Memo to Trump before he goes to meet his maker. Can we talk?

Thirty days hath October, plus one, so you can still dig into getting treats ready for the whole shebang before there is the deadline of being past trick-or-treating, BOC style

October 5th, 2020

The host of a radio music program said the song Don’t Fear The Reaper will be played to death, sorry, throughout this month, which also features the fall solstice in that old cable concert series. He was in the band Black Crowes, and their big hit was referenced in my lead to some political satire in The Headliner, about Trump’s demise, rest his soul — oh wait a minute, that’s getting ahead of ourselves.
But until then, this about the full month of October, and it’s already underway, so bear witness: St. Croix Valley magazine (not the one that doesn’t pay, To The Reaper or others) has outlined in their current edition this: 30 ways to create Halloween treats. So I will pump them by saying, hey, October has 31 days so that gives you that full month to get your kitchen together, and try out your creations on your family and friends, before the primo gathering on the 31st that rounds out the bill, numerically. Or, as says the metal song The Wicker Man, “The ferryman wants his money, you ain’t gonna give it back …” Which practically yells out another metal song and such video game, “Doom.” And the cereals spoken of, and for which you can get a dollar off coupon, that enables you to buy more, feature the Green creatures that are from more than one Hollywood movie. And we can forego the old, staid candied caramel corn.

It Wasn’t The STDs Stupid? Where were you when the ax fell, again. Will she get dressed and back up your story like she was paid to do, a second time,…

October 4th, 2020

(For more such statute political commentary — it is indeed so, as was said in a comment under About — check out this web site throughout the coming month and hope that the ghoulies won’t get either you or Trump; they wouldn’t bother with Biden, too bland. The same could not be said about Eddie Van Halen, as he is eulogized in a manner that brings in Hudson, in the department Uncategorized).

I never thought I’d be writing this as soon as you see now, but this may be the day when we wrestle with some of the most important questions since the Cuban Missile Crisis, again stated as You’re Still Hard To Handle Now. Where were you and what were you doing when JKF was assassinated?
(My wife was at the forefront here, as she was watching her favorite Regional TV Cartoonish Show That Will Never Make It Big Because of Lack of Aptitude, But Is About a Man and a Train. Mommy, the question was asked, why is my fave dumb shit show being pre-empted? Oh, my God, JKF is shot and dead, came the response, and mom went running into the next room crying. I have heard the story many times, and it bears repeating).
The difference? At least JFK had something to offer the country/world. You now doubt have heard the thing, unless you are living in a cave in the Siberian outback/hacker enclave, that Trump has the very virus he failed to abort, focusing rather on babies yet to be born. And it was bantied about in the Sunday papers today, both of them in my metro area, that the next 48 hours will tell the tale. (So tune in to the 48 Hours TV-Mag Gone Stupid for the result, with the only slightly edited, repetitive references to the same staid topic over and over to cater to the, well, stupid, unlike when it was that I sat in a courtroom for a solid week for their rag’s local competition, when journalism actually was journalism. This even though the national TV correspondent seemed more interested in getting into the Leader-Telegrams reporter’s pants than actually reporting the news, with their annoyingly recurring twist).
But I digress, and maybe that is the point here. Trump is all about digressing. And not keeping his pants on. But to get back to it, I was sitting with a friend as she roamed the bastion of current news that is Facebook, with ugly dog photos tried to be made pretty, and oh yeah, that great post from a long-last friend who was now coming over and making her giddy, and saw a reference to Trump has a virus. Let’s face it, we all thought STDs rather than Covid for The Invincible one, and that’s what would finally get him. But then there was another reference, and another as midnight approached, and then someone was brave enough to post what everyone was thinking: Hey, the virus is finally good for something. Creating karma, one misdeed at a time.
<The philesophical good for the sake of salvation>
I now have to admit, when Bush, the younger one even moreso than the late Elderberry Bush, was spewing his screw-the-country-for-the-sake-of-oil decisions, some of us said amongst each other in private that it would be for the good of the country and the world that someone Would Take Him Out. Now it is time for me to put my money (mere coins Thanks To The One That Raped All But The Rich, and Maybe I Now Have To Add Only The Mega-Rich), where my mouth and failing computer are, and confront my previous Nightwish: Do I Really Want Donald Dead, to serve the common good? All this transpired while listening to not Death, the extreme metal band as that was later in the night, but Jailbreak from Thin Lizzy, and with Donald maybe they would amount to the same thing if he didn’t break out. But still — The Demise of the Donald? Seems extreme, not prudent. And this is moreso than the fact he makes writing about folly so easy for me. Deep in my soul, now re-thought, I do not want him to get what he deserves. These days, on many fronts, it is not easy to be an empath.
<So where from here?>
Maybe after all is said and done, Trump will gain a greater sense of humility, civility and compassion. OK that’s a tough one to believe, but maybe, just maybe …
A doctor Gupta was quoted as saying that Trump’s chances to beat this are very good. (I remember that name from living with and reporting about Tourette Syndrome). Whew? Cringe? But against him are age (only erectile at this moment), obesity (don’t look good in those whitey tighties anymore), and “underlying medical conditions,” (maybe prompting a recall, like had only been seen in the auto industry, amongst all those escorts in Russia) …
And in Russia, Hackers Anonymous better get tested, and their computers double-down disinfected, even if that puts them on an (Interpol?) database …
Lastly, as far as “tracking” the news that some Congressmen flew on a commercial airline after being closely associated with Trump, so maybe they need to get a waiver if they are indeed running for re-election, which gives them a blank check …

In the beginning, there was the question. And the question led to vile responses from The Flesh. Presidential in form that is, and beyond just kissing babies. And then more questions made it clear, less blathering about character and have it more characterized on the issues, and then maybe the answers will go viral on things like the virus. Just ask the County Board and their Slip-Sliding Away, as quoted by the media.

October 2nd, 2020

So the Great Debate has come and gone, and as I could have told you earlier that day, it was flagged by many members of the media as a crazy fest between two candidates grabbing for power via personal attacks as much as policy. Crazy Fest? That would have been how the Chicago Tribune travel section hawked via their headline when I put them even further up the charts via my 25-column-inch piece on the Hudson Hot Air Affair, and drew the ire of the locals a bit because it was portrayed that way so many times, at the start because of the way they billed it themselves.
Anyway, I’m going to let you in on one of the hidden ways the media works on deadline, based on those work-your-asses-off small dailies I slaved for at the start of my career. You wrote the sample headline and lead for the County Board meeting the night before they actually met, assuming you already knew how the key item’s vote would take place the next morning. And I doubt that the overworked reporter would have spoken to a large number of people to frame their advance prose, just take a guess from background seen in committee. So you would go to the gathering, which was typically a bunch of old available-in-the-morning-retired geezers, (and not Geezer Butler from Sabbath), voting on something like a bunch of new kids equipment at the local park. Yawn, and predictable, and not finished soon because of the obligatory break for lunch. So at that point, and maybe before, the local scribe would hustle on down to the office to finish and revise what had actually now been verified — and you’ve got 15 minutes to wrap up your story, with an editor occasionally standing behind you to push you even (recklessly?) faster. And let the copy editor fix the typos on the fly. County Boards even more than other local government forms are notoriously boring.
But what if they did something not foreseen like vetoing the two-laned slide for the kiddies? Only one lane needed, filibustered The Conservative Masters Of The Coin. Oh my God, and I thought my lead as was about the going against party lines, and the mayor’s twins going on the first ride down the slide in front of the cameras. Cripes, no photo opp, and how can I fix my story at beyond light speed? The Printer Master awaits!!
That’s what I first thought of about the headlines after Cage Match 1 the other night. It was basically the same headline I’ve seen since the invention of the typewriter, I surmised. But maybe more too this … After all Trump is as inflamatory as Attila the Hun, but the Democrats prize themselves on greater civility and tolerance. But aren’t those the things we weighed when dropping the Atom Bomb? Although it seems Trump was the epitome of the anger and the calls for greater debate decorum — keep the babbling overruns to 30 seconds and not 45.
God, until the County Board chimes in with something actually important, maybe we’re stuck with a cat fight over who gets to be First Lady.

Who are these guys we’ve got, running either to or from the camera that blares light. Trump is trumped by Biden, and will it continue in Roku Channel debate broadcasts?

September 29th, 2020

Have you ever noticed how much trouble the GOP has in finding a truly bad photograph of Joe Biden to use against him in its mailings to dutiful U.S. taxpayers? Or for that matter, most any national Democratic candidate? And closer to home, that went double for my friend Liz Jones, who ran successfully for School Board and also took a stab at the state Legislature, being defeated by a Republican who had been in office since the time of the New Deal, I swear, but at least they have another former model, Melania.
And that brings us back to The Big Guy, as I’m sure he would like to be known. Unless this is really a matter of photo-shopping and selectivity, Trump just can’t seem to look good in a photo. In a TV promo for Monday night’s debate, Trump looks like one of my funny uncles in face and forehead, as well as girth and of course, hair. But Biden makes the cut as being OK. Be your own celebrity judge on a Stream Live on The Roku Channel, in the Shining Light of Election 2020, with the zeros kind of obliterated. And not on the twos that are left untouched? LikeTwins? The Twins? Like the Bushes twins. And would that play well in the Twin Cities, based on the Biden blitz on KQRS. Why that station?
So beat the Bushes during this campaign, in two different ways, part like hitting the booths to support like father like son? And Biden even looks more like the late elder Bush than an average Joe.
So I quote: “Coverage starts: 8PM ET | 5PM PT. Debate: 9PM ET | 6PM PT. Watch free. Election 2020 Schedule.”
One last thing? Is photo shop even a thing anymore?”

Comfort food? Last minute fill-ins? Harder to come by cheaply in these days than a two-touchdown Viking lead, hoping it will hold up? And from a few from us, Packer fans, who just may choose to celebrate some of this, although it needs to be as much on the fly on this late date as an Aaron Rodgers hail mary. (Check your time on your device?)

September 28th, 2020

This might as well be considered a two-minute Pack Attack warning, even though as my wife always points out when her Vikings falter, that can take a lot in Real Time. So when the quarter turns, just check out the fridge, cupboard and even freezer …

How to get comfort food and of course the accompanying drink, and still keep your wallet comfortable. Here are some ways where having such at your party is not as financially burdensome as say, concert tickets, unless just maybe they’re old warhorses that are NOT touring in support of their latest release.
Better yet, to lead-off, yes it’s a baseball reference teamed with the football being played by the Packers minutes from now, and gives you a chance in a good way to raid the refrigerator, these two EBT-based offerings I’ll reference are next to freebies, as the alcohol end believe it or not is legit as far as paying by food stamps, even for the alcohol value.
— So you can have a rimless margarita, but take care to cut it off at a very small shot glass full, or half-full if you’re an optimist, unlike most drunks that are even among the most giddy. Marsala wine or also cooking wine are covered by EBT for free because they have a legitimate chef-like purpose (OK inflated metaphor), and the alcohol value if that’s what you’re after is primo. But a big proviso, dilute the following big time because it is so salty, and thus is telling the dangers of the salty sea with nothing actually to drink via both the Old School metal song and ancient poem, Rime of the Ancient Mariner. And this could be a glass half-empty, to follow my lead. Pour into a small glass a quarter of the wine, still potent but not like I would take advantage of that, and mix in the majority to near filling with water and Coke, then add a bit of rum (all to taste). Its You Better You Better You Bet, and there can even be the accompanying salted nut roll drink in a glass, as touted by a recent edition of a St. Croix Valley magazine. Note: If your guests have refined tastes, in other words are picky, definitely sample this yourself first before freely giving. Saving a bunch of dough isn’t worth an unhappy houseguest, take it from having my in-laws over. Maybe during a timeout for a commercial? An appraisal? Quality control? Maybe even keep it for yourself?
— And then this Bananarama for pennies, maybe what you see on the ground walking inside with mask — hopefully not obstructing your downward view — to pay for your gas (lets face it we all do this) to see coins on ground that can be scarfed up. The key to the mix is a scant bit of liquor that mixes in real fruit, and you can enhance that with a real banana, to go with the banana cream pie “lick,” my buddy’s favorite word of description. Then top it off with cream from dairy, after all this is Wisconsin, even though not East Enders. So how is this even more a near freebie? You can add vanilla extract, which has almost as much alcohol as the liquor itself, and stretches your budget as well as your taste buds (?!?), and in this way, like the above recipe, is free via ETB so mix it in for added flavor. And Kwik Trip, around most any corner, can trump this in two ways. There are bags of several pounds of, really, day-old bananas and not later, and they are only a mere dollar! They cut their losses and you get enough bananas for a chimp to live on for days or more. And if a chump, you can also buy them by the pound for a mere 39 cents, or less when on sale, if your party is small. (For other comfort food purposes, to supplement, that same price exists for potatoes and onions, everyday). But back to the evening of what is already in your fridge, as far as the food end, likely get on the street tacos theme that’s being embraced by virtually all of the late night clubs, cut such tostada-type-things into quarters and pour on all those Mexican faves, meat, cheese, salsa and hot sauce (just what is the difference?), peppers and other vegies, (sour cream and/or guacamole), even spritz of orange, that are sitting in there by the gallon behind the milk. You have a bunch there already, but just in case you need specific examples, I’ll follow up soon with all the crazy ideas you would expect from this site. Think of an offbeat form of garlic that really enhances, I was told, my make-shift garlic bread. Think dark.
— Then there are more crackers and slash other finger food. Bananas coins again, s’mores style with with heavy cream and other dessert style toppings such as syrup(s) and honey and even even peanut butter, all on top of graham crackers, and maybe include some cream cheese. Sprinklings to taste. And also cucumber flats on saltines, (some might like trimmed vegetable edges as well as peel the bananas, of course), on top of any kind of cheese, or more than one, and virtually all colors of spicy mustard or the like.
Seattle Grunge versus down home Wisconsin? At Starbucks, or possibly in your cupboard already, there is Caffe Verona, which may indeed be too sweet roast to be grungy, as in sweet with dark cocoa, and that may fuel your party with something more tasty than usual coffee, approaching the form of that killer dessert — come on, as a hostess, that you really want that to top things off. The brew started in Seattle decades ago, before grunge, then spread to the namesake variety out west, which also is the name of a town near Madison. (see below). The form of key ingredients at one point took the take of an 80/20 “blend” as that is the coffee industry term ordained down in Columbia, I think. It could also be referenced as having the beef that’s well seasoned for your nachos, (and sorry Wendy’s, because you have the ratio better), and thusly could be likened to 3.2 beer Over There. Yes, it calls itself very dark roasted as coffees go, but I have always been one to not fear the darkness, to a point, So Isn’t It All Dark? You get the Pink Floyd reference from Dark Side of the Moon.
That town near Madison From Above, is what you could do on your notorious Wisconsin Death Trip via the song, as it is based from where Ed Gein took people apart, and you don’t even have to go Milwaukee and Dahmer. (No, I am not suggesting cannibalism. That’s up to a select few heavy metal bands I will review later on, not as bad of bands as they might seem). So when you go to Verona, stop off where the Wisconsin River diverges westward, and is not too far north of V, and we’re not talking about the old TV series. That’s where much of the mint from the US is grown, as Wisconsin is indeed more than just dairy. Where do you think you get your ginseng? How to use this in recipes? So like money, this is still Being Minted, so tune in later. I do, although you might not see this, have a word limit; but wait, that was in newspaper days when the price of news-printable paper skyrocketed for decades, more then the federal debt. And you thought it was the Internet that keeps papers from being viable?

Are those boots steel-toed? Or like sandals? Summer is past waning, so before its ebbs completely, here is what’s on, from an insider, about the (outside?) options to still make a go of it pre-autumn, or as Tom Petty sang Free Falling. And of course, with such a musical workhorse, we have to start with Labor Day weekend and beyond. Ask the midnight mopping nightclub guy. And how the non-essentials eventually stacked up.

September 24th, 2020

These boots were made for walking, past the main downtown party area, or especially as well for hoofing and negotiating late-night rehab work on the evening before, as is fitting, Labor Day weekend. (This is one of give or take a dozen stores that have changed hands in the last year in the immediate area, as a new tenant is giving it a go and trying to rehab the building with a fresh start, but more on that later). I first saw this kinda Midnight Rider of mop washing front windows, on my way over to Dick’s, before leaving on a vacation in the true spirit of (Anti?) Labor Day? He was then to be well seen, with future store lights fully blazing unlike those low range LEDs Hudson has installed to serve “street light people” badly. And away he went, scrubbing up the back area by a doorway on my way back from Walnut Street, as I am reporting now after being on holiday in the Bahamas, yeah believe that one? Maybe the mopper, in the true spirit of Mott the Hoople, is one of those musicians who is having trouble getting gigs these days … so whistle while you work? Unless that attracts groupies, because we’re told we’re not supposed to have such groupings these days, especially since a three-day-time-off has now proven via the virus to be the newest culprit To End Our Search For A New Summer Of Love. Or is it in the air, that the summer is out of reach? Empty beach? Empty Street?
And then there was later in the week, when the upside down, plastic party table with legs propped straight up like a hunted deer, had actually been put in place for use after being hauled onto the driveway, from its resting spot on the edge of the lawn, or would that be sand from their recent project?
(That beach is not, though, out of reach for Captain Crunch even come fall snacking now that football has resurrects, and I know this ‘cuz it says it on the box, and you know all advertising is the truth?!? Word has it that he is holed up now, upon retirement, with Jimmy Buffett and showing him even more munchies. But HudsonWiNightlife will give you even cheaper and more nutritious advice sooon in yet another such round-up, so stay tuned).
But also a member of The Labor Party, on a different front, but still such handiwork to be seen, is the extensive sidewalk reconditioning (euphanism) being done in front of the little pink houses largely, as opposed to the big business buildings, on the west side of Second Street. To start, there is the five-foot-long small sand and not sidewalk demarcation in the form of sawhorses front and back, on the far north end of the work zone, that were actually setting partway in the midst where concrete should be. At two places further down, there was an actual pit the size of a trio of motorcycles where the sawhorses were in a level place but not fully to the curb, connected by police line tape, BUT NOTHING THAT COULD PREPARE YOU WELL FOR A FIRM DROP, such as drop-C guitar. To be fair there has been some piling of sand in them by workers since then. But maybe this is a hope for hoidy toidy Hudson, the two unabated parking spaces in front of Nor-Lake has signage that read only 15 minute parking, at least at some peak times. OK, that won’t be time enough for last call on the recent three-day weekend …
But to the south, at Art Doyle’s Spokes and Pedals, there was hope for the people who don’t make enough money to drive BMWs, they would be closed all through the three days, with a kudo for Saturdays off with pay for their workers. But that doesn’t help the whole newly burgeoning and moving in bicycle crowd they could be serving, but not until Tuesday. In another form of transportation that could be viewed as emergency, and at least for some in the crowd that laments the lack of public transportation in Hudson, as I guess we don’t have enough college students living and working here and attending at UW-RF, there were more astute climes in St. Paul. I saw them (over by Alary’s?) where their were pay-per-ride scooters, much taller than wide, but some of these were toppled over onto the sidewalk beneath. Is there a point to be made that maybe their sidewalk needs concrete attention? Or maybe as visual as musical, that you’ve had too many and are in need of focus, that could be offered by a performance by Concrete Blond. That’s Old School for all those New School trekkers between RF and Hudson.
But being Labor Day, back to the bastion of ways that it was thought your business might be non-essential, so defined back in March in a quick fell swoop, then later adjusted:
<<So taking it to the Capitol if not the streets>>
And what, in what now seems long ago, regarding those stores that were left in limbo by the reversal of the governor’s decree to cease and desist most possibly dangerous commerce, if not essential? It was soon redacted and not a death threat to these adapting businesses:
— What about places like the YMCA in Hudson, which did not say they were forced to cease operations, but were for the most part voluntarily electing to devote their resources to more pressing concerns than bench pressing. That was early on, around the time the complete stay at home edict was announced. But is a fitness club that, importantly, rides largely on religious and spiritual themes, truly an essential service, as there initially was allowance for such rejuvenation? The signs on the door announced this temporary new direction, but day care and preschool continued to be a go. There was in front of the front door, two long tables with care bags ready to be taken. Each consisted of about five staple food items that were by no means brand names, but hey, these days food is food.
— On the other hand, RJ’s Meats is always a veritable bounty of awards, but that does not stop the virus with messing with larger places not too unlike it in Minnesota. Food processing plants there had at one point become havens for the virus as it moved out-state. Not to suggest in any way that the Hudson shop has any lapse in its obviously outstanding food quality, bolstered by frequency of newer items way beyond venison such as swiss and mushroom brat, but there can be a question posed: When does a butcher shop, for purposes of what businesses were being very carefully weighed for essential services or not, become large enough with their success and thus volume whereby they can be likened to a small processing plant? And in fairness to RJ’s, are grocery stores that serve a vast variety of foods that included a meat shop and deli, (with seating?), be viewed as different from a shop like RJ’s that also has basic groceries in a small scale, but sells much more their staple quality meats? And how do convenience stores, even smaller in scope in all such ways, fit into the picture? With some in the public being very fickle about their food, RJ’s may have an answer, as shown on its big sign, that being a buildup of all sorts of their meats that may not be easy to come by. (And of course being a stanch Catholic at the local church, RJ’s is not open on Sundays, again as their sign makes known). On such a note, as I discussed way back at the start of virus closings, with a Wal-Mart manager as a comparison drawn with Target, when does a “grocery store” become simply a store that “sells groceries?”
— And when it comes to back rooms, some of the initially ordered-to-close “hookah shops,” as not an essential service, might have had an ace in the hole because the order was about sales of legal products to be consumed off-site. A place I know, as being a longtime store in western Wisconsin, was able to have lights on that first night for an hour or two, but said they soon made it sure that the few seats they had at the back of their one large room was not open for any lingering. That was perhaps bucking what could be a trend, of Minnesota businesses knuckling under, but Wisconsin stores looking for loopholes.
— Academies optimistically stated they are celebrating their young athletes promise and pluck by taking it to the virtual realm, continuing to forge forward to teach them using a very active form of online dancing. So they love teaching and supporting their dancers, as for now, home-grown via the magic of a computer. To wit: “Proud to be dancing at home together.” And as a sign seen around and about supports, anyone over age three is welcome at one academy or another …
— Lastly, in another hard to understand initial prohibition, disc golf was a no-no. I doubt that it sat well with a local couple who have won international tournaments on that subject, back in the days they were “playing.” Maybe have to have only wide open par fives? And in a similar up-in-the-air-higher-than-a-golf-ball initial bias as far as stay at home, were noses thumbed at traditional golf courses and as mentioned earlier that you could “nanny” and do day care, but not be an average ank-and-file babysitter. So saved is Mrs. Doubtfire. Campgrounds and fishing and hunting were treated better, in place for their main seasons. And as far as high school sports that force you to be more than six feet away, what about sprinting vs. distance running if someone can break away from the pack, and singles vs. doubles in tennis?

<<There are many kinds of labor. Of these, on Saturday, there will be a car show for charity at The Village Inn lot in North Hudson, their first excursion into this kind of  event, which has occurred at long length in the grassy area directly across the street. Coincidentally, at the historic Octagon House a mere two miles to the south, there is running concurrently a vintage style yard sale. Are they, in this day of conserving money and raising money at all costs, even though this is a fashionable cause for donations, taking the route of a high-end pawn shop? Anyway, both events wrap up at 4 p.m., so it’s unlikely you could do the Halloween costume thing of going place to place in a way that’s staggered by the times of judging contests. Unless you’re willing to hit the road running and try to beat the masses, with high speed needed. And a far as Halloween and my upcoming coverage, you haven’t seen anything yet, as in comparison to past years of haunt.>>

All Our Times Have Come: OK not all, but anybody who wanted to find out more about the long-promised Half-St. Patrick’s Day ditty, whose celebration is again, not lost but only postponed, here is the experience that will make you not green on being informed

September 23rd, 2020

(Sorry if the leprechaun got into my line spacing tool, as he is such a tool and just will not quit messing with me and my computer, although in fairness, I mess with him as well — but the Irish League To Establish No More Reason To Diss Us is on his small back).

As I’ve written, there comes a day when its halfway back to when St. Patrick’s Day occurred and halfway forward to when it comes around again. This continuation of a celebration dubbed the Half-St. Patrick’s Day has been recognized each year at
Paddy Ryan’s Irish Pub until this March when the virus marched in, sending forth a range of actions that resulted in the holiday not being given its usual name six-months in, but the same great by all accounts food and drink can still be obtained as
such if you, again, can keep your Irish down enough to wait until Monday. No such restriction at Dick’s Bar and Grill, which historically has offered a monthly special on certain Irish drinks on the Seventeenth, and hey the Irish have waited so long, just
like certain recent Notre Dame sports teams, so what is a day or two beyond the three-day-weekend they have concocted with their ire since … March and they still have had long to wait, until now. While the prices on the Dick’s special, which always
seemed to fall on a Tuesday, are not specifically seen this year, the chance to savor those drinks still is, meaning there just might be leprechauns on both ends of town, and I swear I saw a real one ambling up Locust Street, and defined by his bright
green attire and stature. And there were some boots to bantie about with going the other direction, their darker shade making for the look of a banshee, and big-extended toe shoes for those with a bit of a fetish. Add to it cleavage and leggy maximizers,
since skin now has been in during this shortened season, as well as the cool thingees (is that an Irish word?) that is stuffed into their possibly colored and curled hair, and topped off by the pixie-like rubber band some used to straighten locks on either
side of the upper head.
Which maybe why we, on the north end, still have an Irish greeting sign of a string of three shamrocks, (most have a full four pedals, not three, in what has been an aberation worth noting while guzzling a Guinness). And further north at the new Kwik
Trip, there were not only sprinkles and spurts of tiny foil that could serve as part of a St. Patrick’s Day present, but those beastie-fueled-jokes that continued well into summer were about the legendary little men and what could be thought of as a green
mafia.Why did I always forget my rewards card? Well my, it was that hostile leprechaun who pried it out of my hands while at the pump, trickling in earth friendly gasoline. But there was hope, I said to a burst of laugher, as the Leprechaun Oversight
Committee on Monetary Affairs put the little man on extended probation. But on appeal, he blamed it on other little green men and was left go, meaning he’d continue to peal away the edges of my card until it looked like that two-pound sauerkraut
special at County Market and could pass it off as such to make that purchase. And licensure? He found that anything over $3.99 and/or 32 ounce size would require notarization from the man at the end of the Pot Of Gold, ‘cuz how do you think he
accumulated all that, and thusly had just enough moxie to be a grand marshal of sorts at an area parade. Oh, I met him across the bar at the Shamrock Club in New Richmond on the night right before the Day the parades were struck down like a
subpeona for a president, and even their equivalent in England. What is and what should never be, the man was optomistic but guarded, even with stories of yore, saying to check with the morning bartender. That ended up being too late.

<<The parade cancelizations, blow by blow>>

Come the Friday before the Irish At All Costs Day, I was still in contact with the publisher at the Irish Gazette out of the Twin Cities, as axing parades was at hand, possibly. Western Wisconsin club owners were taking their lead from the places WAY
across the river, but then that ax fell and it was not pretty. On the morning of the parade demise, quite early, the hammer dropped. Right before that, I was talking to another applicable bar owner/manager/pourer while of all things waiting for my wife to
be treated at Regions at the ER for the Anti-Irish-Observance Illness — OK that’s not why she was in — and the guy was grumpy and a bit frazzled, and said to call him back in 20 minutes, as he wanted the phone open for possible bad news. Meanwhile,
Nurse Ratched was in toe all the while, saying to take that and any other calls that day in the lobby. Of course I was obstructed in my walk to get there by some other nurses of the same cloth, so I ended up in the smallest waiting room I had ever seen
several doors away from my wife, waiting for the clock to tick tock to that position, and actually saying to the one woman who managed to squeeze in late in that wait, good luck with your emergency, Irish related or not. Needed to walk a bit here and
frow, but then the call went through for the second time. Within the half-hour, parades that were scheduled in New Richmond and River Falls were scuttled, and once the noon hour passed, with it went the last gasp for a last parade in our extension of
The Cities, the man in Roberts said while trying to make a last call, to consult with others in what forms a triangle in St. Croix County. Maybe it was said, the bagpipe players and their ilk would still be roaming the sidewalks in New Richmond, but it was
unclear if it fell through too. There was the Irish band at the Shamrock club that was stifled after a few flurries of notes, and would have been the last music act to go forward that day. The only trace was in ads, shown conspicuously in green, where
everything from soda (Sprite and Dew), home and lawn improvement (damn good grass everywhere for early season), and every imagineable way to insert (lame?) lime colors in the background, even if limes were the special being hawked. And among
the obligatory posting of cloverleafs, there were even farm implements such as — you guessed it — John Deere being discounted at a jolly good price. One more thing that made it into publication, as the schedule for the printing industry cannot be
betwixted for more than a bite of corned beef cabbage, were some ads in the local shopper, think a quarter page, advertising the parades that never were as if they were still going on. .
And the costumed singing witch/leprachaun named Conant — not the first time such accused — did indeed make her way into the free clinic in River Falls despite virus blackouts, and was allowed to perform a one-and-out with no encore of her Irish
ditties — despite that for virtually everyone else there was a lockdown and lockout. But oh, I dallied, as there was one more couple inside that got a front row seat by default, as unfortunately they were (both?) in the process of seeing a doctor for
alleged symptoms or likely would not have been let in.

<<The three wordwise ditties that were supposed to go in the Irish Gazette, but the virus pre-empted them with Stop The Presses>>

The whole New Richmond population explosion, making it one of the fastest growing places in the country because of the new Stillwater bridge, has put on the stamp the expansion of St. Patrick’s Day options here, cancellations from virus rather than
no virus. Now, in addition to what has been one of the biggest noonish holiday parades of this type in Wisconsin, and indeed is billed as among biggest and best anywhere and that befits the Irish and others who can be a bit over the top when their
enthusiasm is engaged, there is a backup and newer bridge-driven lead role via the much bigger than before party at the Wild Badger Bar, with multiple choices that include bands all weekend, (more on that entertainment option elsewhere on these
pages). Also on that Main Street parade route, there are new nightclubs that have opened up, not to mention the existing Irish pubs that have long been the driving force for the St. Patrick’s Day party done in many forms. No Big Box stores have arrived
here though, yet, so to get their mega-cut specials on things like corned beef you’ll have to wait until next year or possibly a bit later, as the arrival of the virus has slowed things that even include such development whether big or small.
HudsonWiNightlife has developed too, as you can surely see, so be jolly (wrong holiday?) and do an Irish jig because you can get the scoop on where to find all these type of food options and exactly what they are and the cheap prices that you can
find right now without having to wait at all, as this is one of those times HudsonWiNightlife is virtually in real time so since this is not typical of our magazine-type format and its necessity to find that killer second day angle so savor like you would that
mostly once-a-year shepherds pie, (note that for once I did not invoke CBC), whether eating in or out, also on these pages so be the consumate and clever consumer in what you consume and check out my community calendar before you shop or dine,
and elsewhere on its many holiday posts find more such sometimes seemingly endless strings of “clever,” as I just used that word, capitalization-or-no/alliteration comedy .
In River Falls, which also has what’s typically huge parade and myriad other St. Patrick’s Day options such as the partially comedic bed races down the main drag, rushing away from the virus and back to the hospital where donated beds are from, as
the holiday is even bigger there than the others that have festivals all during the year, which are numerous locally and like this one not only during the summer, and in what is becoming trend the River Falls Area Chamber of Commerce has pulled out its
longtime sponsorship and substantial funding. It cited the fact that for multiple straight years it has occurred toward the middle of the week over any of its three middle days and the need especially these days to maximize economic benefit to all
businesses, not just bars and restaurants, as people flood in from the Twin Cities, so with this and so many other party-ish festivals you don’t have to (typo before proof-reading as I meant too) be clever like the typo gag to know tourism has become a
lucrative big business in RF even though to many it is as big a best-kept secret as just where that medallion is. This leaves it to just to just those bars, which responded by adding a pub crawl, led by a new sponsor, Shooter’s Bar, a block off the main
drag where the Irish floats go. Right on Main Street is Johnnie’s Bar, which again brings in a Saturday night country band and also adding actual Irish music in a type of act you don’t always see booked elsewhere, although billing itself as the only true
Irish tavern in the area (Paddy Ryan’s is a bit less than a half-hour to the north, just east of Hudson, and are just the right distance away that they might differ). But back to Shooters, the owner by that name is a wee bit gruff in a charming way, and
would make a good Irishman. As pointed out quickly by a bartender at Broz on the other end of the downtown, things really get going earlier, with some Sunday parties that are smaller in scale than things such as the parade, two days before St. Patrick’s
Day.
In Hammond a wee bit down the way in St. Croix County, Schuggy”s, which has two bands every weekend trek in from the Twin Cities, (as even they note is the best kept secret here in this berg with only four bars and this is Wisconsin, mind you), has
by far the biggest live music attendance in western Wisconsin, even though they are a very small town, (they love to point it out that fan base in their photos). They’re at it again in this way in mid-March, but with nothing on St. Patrick’s Day itself
except in-house poker. Not that unusual, but to do it up big on Saturday and Sunday nights with partiers on all sides of the large circular bar rail, far from the stage, and not at all Tuesday, is noteworthy. (I guess the good Irish, typically, can’t wait). The
band is a two-fer, making for two long trips in two days for them but they think it’s worth the now-low gas cost, as longtime local favorite rockers FogPilot takes the stage both nights, as they are there often and are virtually the house band for the bar. It
should be noted that the owner, Trent Schug, who opened up this club a couple of years ago in addition to his nearby and also spacious bar and grill, The Barnboard — good name for a Wisconsin-style, small-town pub — but really closer in to The
Cities as opposed to Hammond, and with his name and its Northern Irish connections, although also of significant historic German significance, he’s close to being all-out-Erin-ethnicity.

A Tale of Two Deaths, similar but not quite the same. As the virus is not the sole arbiter of For Whom The Bell Tolls. It tolls, too, for me, having lost two genuine gems.

September 14th, 2020

They might not be rock ‘n’ rollers, but they were the rock solid type of people who served as The Rock for their families and all those who loved them. Those people always came first over themselves for a pair of northeners, as in long-time stalwarts in North Hudson, who typically put aside their own needs to the point of running ragged with tiredness while selflessly being of service — on the job or in all other facets of their lives.
The Kozy Korner big sign said it best, or maybe worst, about these people who were larger than live for those who depended on them: JoEllen Rest in Peace. “Rest” is not a way you would look at those two dynamic duos, even as especially in one case, they kept pushing themselves into their bigtime numbers of upper years. And then aside from Kozy, which closed for a day for one of the first times you will see because of a passing, there was that sign on Agave Kitchen’s marquee — Never Forget. Such sentiments are not just for the military and those THEY serve.
Without further ado, we are talking about JoEllen Steele, who remained in the work force until I saw her at KwikTrip, doing her thing, just a couple of days before her recent death, and Dorothy Cardarelli, who made it to 88 and still was more concerned about my wellbeing, and making sure I had an overflow amount to eat, than her own.
And not long before I sat down to finish this writing, there was a third obviously loved soul with those binding, (in a good way), North Hudson ties, who passed on, named Mike Smith. I can’t say I knew him, but I’m sure I would recognize his face.
But the two women in that trio I knew well, in maybe a more intimate friendship way then most others. I met JoEllen when she was in her several-year stint with Mudd’s and Sudd’s as the (only) day bartender, and yes for that very workhorse of a server it was almost every day. We both had our life-defining stories and shared with each other freely, as I had been dismissed from a job I for the most part loved, and the people too despite it being the local and now failing Right Wing Republican Rag, let’s call it was it is, as 16 years of busting my ass at all odd hours was rewarded with an (absolutely no fanfare even though that was typical and somewhat variable depending on your politics) dismissal by downsizing with about ten others when their ilk killed the national economy. Every free moment felt unusual, as I strived to rebuild my business that included regular publication with the Eau Claire Leader-Telegram and Milwaukee Journal and then its after-merger follower in the land of mega-corps like Forum Publications out of the Dakotas (don’t matter South versus North, same shit) as it then became the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel. So no fire in the morning hours somewhere around town, I had again spare time as I forged my post Forum emergency work plan — pre-virus day version — and JoEllen was a mainstay who kept me on the straight and narrow with that. I’d appear at some point in the afternoon if the powers that be were too busy golfing to get back to me until the next day, and we’d share how both of our day’s were going, as it would be 5 p.m. somewhere, but it really didn’t matter as editors weren’t quite yet putting in those insane work hours that would be the case soon — as in arrive late and leave early — but that’s not in the Newspaper Grunt Worker mode. So for now, the NoDoz Infused Days were just not there, but JoEllen and her attentiveness were along with some great movies on TV of sentimental value, for a good 45 minutes or more, and before Call Waiting rose matters to the top …
So is this sour grapes? Maybe, but the truth reins true. And that is the point here. JoEllen’s death is underscored as a tremendous loss by words such as these, that do not do it justice, but showed her compassion and siding for sentiment, if not a lack of tolerence for all the usual BS — unless it came from a joke by me that would make us both laugh. And she would listen and listen. Her responses were short and might not even involve her own need of that particular day. Then there is Joe, who has a gift or it could be called otherwise, and has been, of running off at the mouth.
But then other Jo, that being JoEllen, would have her lowkey way of dealing with trials, of which she had plenty, and it hardly was long enough for even a J School lead to one of the many stories I would tell. I will thus describe her quips as this: Sly, wry and dry. But the main manner for JoEllen’s notoriety — everyone in the village quickly knew of her demise — was a caregiving spirit for her family and especially her children and grandchildren, without ever caring that it be returned in kind. Yes, she might have taken it, but what drove her is that everyone got what they needed, and a bit extra. As through what was seen at her newer job at Kwik Trip, in a couple of instances even wearing a chicken hat that covered most of her features while hawking legs and wings as the pandemic made sales a suddenly far more vital thing, as viewed by management and JoEllen dutifully stepped up to the plate, although maybe somewhat embarrassed but never to the point of being squeamish. And she probably would in short form worthy of one of my copy editors take me to task about what I said about the occasionally quasi-dirtbag management at the Star-Observer. Not that it was not true or not prudent, but maybe a tad bit unkind. That was not JoEllen, as she and her charitable efforts even benefitting her family and as simple as a ride to a school activity, were driven by her faith in God and how it was practiced as a Catholic parishioner, whenever there was a need for her to have strength. And for full disclosure, although well past a time when most would have retired, JoEllen was known for keeping a great figure, although pointing out she was still beautiful did make her embarrassed.
That strength drawn from God goes double for Dorothy, who I first met in an effort to do a massive cleanup of a fall, leafful series of acres at her resort that she still was managing at Trego. Dorothy again, didn’t really like the idea that she could no longer do the full task herself, but had the business sense to accept help, paid for by the fact there was a cool summer night stay involved at the perfectly spaced cabins and the great grub kept flowing to myself and a handful of others. And on this and a few other occasions, we all made our way to the local Catholic church a few blocks south of the Namekagen River resort when possible shortly before heading back to Hudson, where Dorothy continued to live. The cleanup was written up in the Catholic Herald and I also published quite widely a story about how myself and a Catholic youngster had our canoe dumped even before the first set of rapids after Dorothy carted us a few miles further into Wisconsin, on what wasn’t exactly a death trip, but had a degree of peril. Message: Respect how God shows himself in a desert if not wilderness experience and give homage to his Word and creation by our own example, in a way that is proclaimed in a 13-minute-plus song by my favorite metal group Iron Maiden in The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. I myself have chosen to provide this example by ripping through the song in a band I sing with, and although this is not Dorothy’s inherent Italian and polka cup of tea, she would listen to comparisons I would make and find subtle smile value in them. Same for JoEllen.
On the other end of things, Dorothy would typically trek to St. Patrick’s in Hudson for a weekly produce distribution, then take it upon herself to leave a couple of bags that same Tuesday morning with each house around the old neighborhood. Ever-cheerful, she seemed to thrive on the bits of conversation at each place. But at least for me, that is not where it ended. Even when Dorothy started having to live in an apartment for elderly residents, she alway was someone I could count on to borrow a few bucks from if I needed to travel to, say, the other end of the county and cover a big story, and didn’t quite have the gas funds. And I’d throw her way some dessert when I had it; her favorite was bagels of virtually any type, although she kind of drew the line, meekly, if they were too onion covered. She knew she would get it back, with a couple of extra bucks for her trouble, but that did not concern her, and if even a five-spot, she would surrend it without too much thought of what her own need might be just then. The song and dance that typically evolved was along the lines of gee, are you sure you can spare that, and here friend, just take it. I was a Packer fan, and she a Viking, but that didn’t matter as much as even the passing comment that qualified as humor and made her laugh for just a moment, again just like JoEllen, but the latter made sure she would groan a bit, too, while smiling. These were All The Small Things that I hoped, as did others, that could replace to some degree Dorothy’s loss of her husband Vincent, literally decades ago, but no one could replace her one true love.
And then the last time I tried to see Dorothy and did not succeed, was the day a big part of the planet might as well have died. Called a couple of times to the nursing home, and upon answering Dorothy said that something had come up, basically along the lines of watching a movie in the gathering area with a few others, and she would not be able to meet with me at all, much less come to the front door. I did come there with bagels in hand and a bit of fear in my heart. Dorothy had for the first time been seen, by me, as somewhat depressed earlier in the week, due I presumed because she was not living on her own or with family that always was front and center, her gorgeous grandchildren and gorgeous pet animals. Few more calls, Dorothy not picking up. You know the rest of the story. The virus had changed the rules of interaction and NO ONE could step foot inside the facility that had for a bit been her home. And Dorothy knew too, but couldn’t bring herself to tell me that last might-as-well be fatal time.
Dorothy died and I never was able to say goodbye.