Hudson Wisconsin Nightlife

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.

And now, as you have waited, for something completely different … Some snow, actually, and not the British kind, but in a bit more volume, what all those Minnesotans will try to get away from. But in North Hudson we have an incorporated village where you can ride an ATV on all but the main drag. As we try to slip in something beyond the polls, North and South.

September 8th, 2020

<<This scant bit of snow has opened the door for more activities, small in scale as they might be. Might they carry over to nightlife for the average Hudson bar regular?>>

The plows may not have been out too much yet, an hour after the inch of snow ebbed on Sunday night, they had gotten Hwy. 35 basically bare, the secondary roads halfway with their one fell swoop or two each direction, and but nothing much yet on strictly residential streets. (Enter Sandman?) You would think that the plowing budget would have a lot more under the cap yet this season, but I’m sure they will get it all prior to all those people from Prior Lake and beyond hitting This City Of Rock And Roll in a big way, and it will be allowed until close, as will be the case with the three weekdays following. (For the record, funny term with most of the music gone, the closure in the city of Hudson is at 10 p.m. Thursday through Saturday). And that goes also for you from the State That The Bars Forgot. Or should I say Forgot Its Bars? Either way. But will our Big Country, actually just Minnesconsin, see a white Christmas? For right now lets evoke another holiday just past and be more thankful for all those flakes we have.

And how does this max out, something that was being missed by the one person in our entire neighborhood who was digging out before he would have to really dig in, he and his very young partner who thought he was stealing the show with his shovel-work? Two riders were approaching, OK a few blocks away on yes, their ATVs that are kosher in North Hudson on all but that now bare main highway, and gotta say that some things like that just work out. They weaved in a major fishtail through most of the length of a side street, coasted through a stop sign at a secondary paved road, (one a rolling stop more than the other), than proceeded onto another side street. But then I also saw hard to miss signs of such weaving on the secondary road itself, this time on a curve no less. Down further a car that had to turn into a driveway continued forward  a few more yards to get past a pedestrian, and in the process had to slide for a couple of feet before being able to do its turn. And not on the catwalk like Right Said Fred, this is far too cold, but at least no wind.

 

 

Oh, I have been schooled in the old school way about my rimless margarita tip, (see about a week ago in The Headliner department), both by someone selling shoes or something — I believe her name was Margarite and God Bless Her in her effort — but also someone claiming to be Jimmy Buffett!! Or was it the local man with a dead-on, hot and cool tribute band In His Name, can’t really say. But they concur. Surprising to me, coming from thus, was that one-quarter of that cup of cooking wine was tooo much, and should be reduced to one-fifth of a glass or less — and be sure That It Is Known that it is say an ounce or less, not a full fifth flask as you would see on a beach before a sea turtle snapped it up, and in no way could find the water after such. And this is free with EBT related, so follow the rules, or They Will Come Getcha! But how did this revelation come about? “Wearing my flop top, stepped on a pop top, cut my heal so I headed back home …” Don’t know how this follows having a glass, not a flask, as I have been told repeatedly that I am not to judge about or even think about myself, but the mix got him through, via EBT, until the EMTs came. At first the folks that brought him in treated him like scum or a bum or both — would they do that? Of course they would — but when finding out who he was not only gave him an antibiotic but a pedicure! But in the name of rehabilitation, they said, and I now concur, not to give even more than a dash of rum, (white or dark), to the aforementioned cocktail. So let it be said, so let it be done, so the sirens in the background stop. But joking aside, let’s now lets back to the real world, let up on both the cooking wine and the rum, and you will have the latter last you until next year at this time when we are again contemplating When The Poison Summer Is Gone, with The Eagles overhead. Save up enough money for more than a pedicure, get a manicure too. And make up the difference with cola, or even Dr. Pepper, (more on that later), or even a wedge of orange, lemon or slime — oh I meant lime — via your EBT. And wait? What about ice cubes. My guy I quoted has a long lost cousin living off the land in the arctic, who has come here because things got Key West balmy due to global warming. But this can be a good thing! The maples that sprouted up in his backyard a stone’s throw from the North Pole will not be bearing syrup until, well right about now, but he couldn’t wait to try out the recipe with the addition of some maple syrup to grace the bottom. Chow! (And not Chowhound the foodie web site).

<<And on the topic of turbulent, and not being a rush to judgement, since the Vikes put on a late rush but could not catch the Packers, so Minnesota had to pack it in. Attendance? What attendance? Who was where? A clue is that the NFL published on a website that there was no one in the stands. How did the local sports bars and the house parties fill the gap? Another clue is that there was an open parking-lot space or two where a couple of motorcyclists and their riders had found an even more open opportunity when the pandemic first hit and people wanted to get North Hudson offsale and delivery. Check out more of who viewed and how in the Uncategorized department of this web site; and you could say the Lingerie Football League sent you, (to be an announcer?>>

? How long can an “opening” truly be open, as an opening for a writing possibility, as it implies that it’s something that just happened, and if not then the case for making that case is closed. Until something more over the top gets going again, as it will and we will keep you posted, this is cool enough to have foodie stuff rise to the surface, like that well done French soufle, this is a blatant plug for other make-food-work-as-in-Saved By Zero, as that could be your full ticket price to save enough for that occasional T-Bone. This is not to be confused with T-Buckets near Somerset, where you might find more of the same, and on this web site, that can get your monthly food budget — even comfort food and don’t we like that for cheap — down to a few nickels or dimes. Go to the previous post and others about a dozen down to see ways that you can make that huge “eats” savings happen, with stuff you have already setting in your kitchen cabinets, fridge, freezer. I’ll continue to make it easy, so all you need is a Lazy Susan. Hey, this is no cut on your own food rehab skills. Sorry …
(Did I not write something like that a couple of weeks ago on openess? Oh you suffering HudsonWiNightlife reader! But at the risk of more dedundancy, check out these new versions of what seems to be boundless new opportunties. What is old is new again? And I’m opening it up.)
Other signs of these turbulant times include adding, in this case usually in the singular, as if it typically would need to be said at all, that seating for dining is available “inside,” multiple mentions on signs saying “open” in the same stretch of right-of-way and in recent days doubly in number, adding also a plug on Dominion Avenue of one of the many newer farmer’s market on Thursdays, one that aired Holiday Station Store specials and thus precluding their earlier pump for their glorious free coffee to pandemic “heroes” such as first responders and health care workers; and do you not think you could be included, after reading all these tips. This was an effort that also merited flyers throughout the area, an ongoing sock-shaped pitch for among others, Pita Pit in the form of their wind-sock on a stick, and a larger-than-life liftout that had letters several feet high on a billboard on the other side of the freeway.
In other such “news” if that’s the right term for banners on food beyond basics:
— The Hudson House Grand Motel has never hawked its cozy but roomy for a lodging place, tables-surrounding-the-center-bar-counter — which would be shut down these days if in Minneapolis under their decree — but now its grand sign has them opening at 4:30 six days a week, with food available at two different places in-house if only early. Used to be, as I found in my search for more ad clients, that if you say, were waiting to check out the Monday Night Football halftime show, you’d find the door from the lobby locked shut. No more.
— Green Mill has listed on the south side of their parking lot, that it was for their venue only — which was a hoot because they’ve, to their credit, ordained a 90 minute minimum for table seating, no matter group size. That butted heads with the lot from Milwaukee Burger, which has not been as packed as when they opened, but still would at times have cars creeping in on the short median between the two lots. These days, there’s often been a counter with an awning put over their top to dispence their food and drink worthy of Wisconsin, when as a hostess said, the customer traffic merited it on hot days. Likewise at Jimmy John’s, again on the other side of the freeway, fashioned in a way that it would be half-sun/half-shade through the course of open hours. But the last time I checked, what was thought of as the greatest draw, the cash register on site under the sun, had been taken away (possibly because it was over the dinner hour, not lunch when the sun is in a different position).
— I just have to add this mention, not so much about when you are open, but what you sell. Casanova’s Historic Liquors, (they told me so), said they should be visited for a back to school special. Hope those “kiddies” are older college students and no one in a younger grade. And then for finals: “Hard times call for hard liquor,” and then giving a phone number. Don’t they know this is a age of social media? But nothing surprises me much anymore, ‘cuz when I was that age, I was shocked that a few friends a bit older were shooting speed to get that A or at least B on the mid-term, then maybe stay awake to actually listen to that opening lecture (you know the one where the prof tells you all kinds of things that should be self-explanatory, such as what “tablet” to use — endorsement on a then-meager teacher’s salary — and what page to open to, “and I’ve got my pencil,” then sang David Lee Roth). Thusly, the hot soon-to-be-grad student did not invite me to her “study” party. Sniff, sniff.

Maybe that chipmunk would not have its goose cooked on another Labor Day, if the stakes were high enough to not be overthrown. That brings about a full discourse on what to use to make other steaks and additional food for a full early-September get-together, tips for tenderloin au jus or not.

September 7th, 2020

Can this holiday be a labor of love? If you’re hearty, and you have not done anything with the horseshoe pit yet — and we are not necessarily talking a pig roast — here’s a tip for getting the guests not to outstay their welcome.
In the sacred game of horseshoes, set up in late August due to it being a favorite of my getting elderly dad, the pace was slow. Horseshoes were rolling a greater distance then what they were airborne, making even people in a first-and-ten distance away need to dance out of danger. Odd Uncle Sid thought that him hitting a chipmunk who then redirected and stumbled into the stake — not that steak — constituted a “leaner.” But even though it didn’t have enough fatty tissue to qualify, and had not slammed a beer to get disoriented, the points were taken off the board before they were even up — this is a low-tech family function, with no fast electronics to get up a 3 that looked like a 2 with a couple of lights burned out.
As the afternoon wore on, and another even more invasive game for us oldsters beckoned, something clearly had to be done to score high evnough to end this charade. So in times even more desperate then the virus holding sway over there in Milwaukee, Joe has an idea. He picks up the two horseshoes and issued a warning to watch out even if you’re much further away than that disoriented chipmunk who carried forward, then slammed into the nearest oak tree, but not hard enough to shake acorns. (And as I thought of the upcoming throw, my childhood came back, when I actually killed a gopher in such a toss that I’m sure was motivated by some kind of interstate battle). So it was time for a double grip, and after saying the real motivation was to score double points, and end it all, the game that is, I put BOTH horseshoes in the same right hand and tossed away as one. Alas, no points were scored, or even close, but a booby prize did beckon for me. Dad thought we should call it a tie, then made a great lofty looping motion to have steel hit steel before someone threw out their back, or other place. .
But what else to German families do, at an event like this, which was after all my niece Amanda’s wedding — we eat. Breakfasts and brunches, and lunches, and snacks, and dinners and suppers and at midnight more snacks, with trips to the medicine chest for muscle aches throw in the mix because of throws.
So, as promised by HudsonWiNightlife for some time as a part of its mission, and clamored for by … well only me … here is a plan to eat like a German using all that is already on the shelf, and spend nary an extra coin or two. So make that a Hallmark card using the coin saved by eating the leftovers that were left over. Then there is more dough for a stake so brightly colored you can’t miss it.
So German, and as such meats that can be BBQd with sauces that can be more tangy/smoky/spicy, and seasoned to taste — try a combo of any number of different spices in like amounts, and even just a couple will do, with something like ketchup or tomato sauce, or even pizza sauce, as a base. Looking in my cupboard, I’m seeing right off the bat, various forms of peppers from hot to mild, and still pungent or even sweet, brown sugar, a touch of ground black or crushed red and even a bit more-like-all-spice-tinged pepper, curry or cumin, and even tomato basil as a secondary ingredient, and don’t forget the oregano. Garlic if hearty?
Various forms of mustard, ground up and single in color, can also be championed and placed on each individual piece of a meat that is coined and skewered, and bell peppers, onions and mushrooms can even carrots can complete the mix. Dip them one by one before piercing and place your choice of small greenery such as cabbage between the skin on each. A suggestion if in the Upper Midwest, to start off the ensemble with only a few minutes of late shopping, is $1.99 for five Klements brats and other sausages at many Kwik Trip convenience stores right now. Hot dog packs in the chicken and pork style can even be found for around a buck or less at Aldi. And those steaks are not cut in purely circular form right? So help little Johnnie help you arrange them on what could look like a map of the Midwest, but give him long, thick gloves and for sure forceps and put him make it into a game by giving a time limit. Caution! If you see him falling behind your clock a bit, give help and more time, so he or she do not burn themselves by rushing. Make this an easy going contest, top off the aluminum foil, and wait until the heat is subsided, and the grill parts low in height.
But with that cabbage, there can be cole slaw, and as said before in this column, raid your refrigerator for the two basic items that can make the dressing, mayo or simply salad dressing, and sugar and poppy seed to taste. Be careful of any dietary needs that can crop up and cause the seeds to catch in down below. And maybe just a touch of lemon for a bit more spunk. Where did I get this idea? Thought it up myself, but independent of this practice, I was schooled in its measures by both my mom (very recently) and The Cat Lady we know (not for kitty). And the potato salad is easy, throw together some yellow mustard and mayo, then use some of the aforementioned stuff to get it tangier or creamier. (Or a challenge — bits of both).
Afterward, don’t succumb to old myths and do not refrigerate potatoes or tomatoes long, as they will loose their luster and firmness faster. Also, avoid the temptation to pack your fridge or freezer full of breads and buns — save that for other bulky foods such as full length sausages of many varieties. And be very dedicated in how long deviled eggs remain in there, rather eat them on the go between holiday games — and so I’ve been thinking to tell my sister-in-law, who will toss them too fast in my estimation, in just a couple of hours, if out on a table. (Hey, they’re great, I’ll bite). They can then match up with the sauerkraut in short form, and struedal in long form.

When we first thought we would have to curb our appetites because of destruction, we agreed that we’d need to curb the virus first, but then curb-side delivery kicked that constriction to the curb

August 29th, 2020

<<When given some kick, what else was kicked to the curb (and also shaved, perchance, at that row of actual tables with actual accompanying cloths outside Winzer Stube and across from the barber shop)? The beard of an athlete, and not Kirby Puckett. See in The Picks of the Week department>>

The cone-type structures placed on either end of a set of parking areas reserved for takeout, there usually are more than one or even two, especially in the downtown, seemed to loom larger at first, then back a bit off as bar and restaurant partial closures started taking effect, then take off again with a few spaces added. There exist several of these groupings through the four blocks of the main area that is Hudson old city. But most eateries were good about taking the placards and their Get Takeout mantra down when not open and the spaces were fair game for parking, but this was not everyone, most noteworthy being the ones then serving for limited hours anyway. And at least one potential patron noticed that one side of Second Street remained far more active for food and drink then the other, saved by having a lesser number of cones only by Dairy Queen, which on its sign attempted to say they would not close until ten, but due to a missing letter stated they were open until 0. Might not be any one in humanity left to eat those cones, but … on either end of Second Street the awful mid-intersection markers that warned to watch for pedestrians kept up their vigil 24/7. And Hudson, unlike other cities in the area, has parking you have to pay for, and revenue I’m sure went down for the city, but that was not nearly the case for consumers to factor in, as they tried to do what they once did.
And the next day after the Virtual Shutdown Of Most Previous Profit, otherwise known as Black Wednesday, was interesting going out of Hudson as commuter traffic was very light virtually everywhere, and Twin Cities radio found the usual bottlenecks very bearable. Downtown Hudson was a veritable ghost town, and any cars you would see were backed up in threes by a slow one to start. There was a definite slowdown where Hudson meets North Hudson, in what looked like a Hazmat scene with the odd extensions of a big truck sticking out, close to a dozen of them. Turns out that crews took advantage of the light load to do some construction. I still managed to use the possibility of newly pending doom as a reason for being late for a doctors appointment in Woodbury, where I found not a soul in the scene in most medical building parking lots.

When do you open up the right to write about open? (And to lead off, when it becomes the times of end, also known as the end of time). Following you’ll see a trio of segments, of odd lengths and what again conclude later, about what virus-valid ‘open’ means to you and how you follow it. Segments? Long-winded? What do you expect from HudsonWiNightlife? We’d say comprehensive, but that’s boasting. So we’ll add: As a team of music and else-worthy lovers we/you will keep forging on. Later on that …

August 15th, 2020

This is not hard to compartmentalize, although since this is WisconsinWiNightlife, we’ll probably end of stretching it out. Almost all clubs in Hudson and by inference most of the surrounding area, are for the time closing at the very stroke of midnight — even if there are enough patrons about the bar rail to conceivably merit a encore to last call. The exception of greatest degree is Dick’s Bar and Grill, which after a brief foray into the darkness that is such an earlier closing for them also, are now abiding by the old cardinal rule of “to close or drop.” And down the road at Ziggy’s, the music on most nights takes over and its of note is not always done by the witching hour, one would think. Buffalo Wild Wings at one point had shuttered at an even earlier time, 10 p.m., but has now gotten more of its groove back (that means closer to midnight, although not always right up to the minute or quarter-hour). Green Mill across the street has followed much the same pattern, as happy hours have become fickle. But the Agave Kitchen continues to serve food until 1 a.m. Some nights spots don’t even make it until 10 p.m. with their service. And as far as those special hours for the elderly or disabled to shop, the biggies offering have kept it much the same, the first hour or two that they are open in the morning. And former around-the-clockers, places like County Market and WalMart, had been closing at 8:30 p.m., but now as well are pushing it off to 10 p.m. Kwik Trips remain open 24 hours for secondary comfort food. Other convenience stores not even close, even on weekends.

(Wish for added tidbits, repetitively yes under The Front Page, “open” is open, and how the degrees and numerology — OK that’s a stretch — are spelled out on the highways and byways and right of way places, see Picks of the Week. OK be careful what you wish for, as hopefully it will only keep on movin’ to get better and better, both the music that’s available on all nights except Monday in The Valley, and what we make of it. An example — yes you do finally get one — is the hump day offering at the Wild Badger in newly blossoming because of The Bridge city of New Richmond. This is a musical night that we assume is partially interactive called Invite Open Mic, and this is a different form of that phrase, each Wednesday starting just after most people have started indulged in their comfort food, as when it comes to tuneage Wild Badger has something of virtually similar interest virtually every evening of the seven days. Evening not night, as they get going early at this resurrecting downtown venue that’s part of a scattering of such places, big and small, north and south, so you can get that comfort food that makes you want to croon).

Waiting’s a bear, but in Minnesconsin you could be butting heads with a moose, even worse. So you’ll get the full story on music and such (and to be compartmentalized with a nod to what’s to do here alongside guitar). This as what’s old is new again, and Runs To The Hills before Leave It To (Big Brown) Beaver has reruns other than Claypool. Can you stand the way we tease ??

August 15th, 2020

(For more of how “open” plays out — see the post right below as a partial view — and how music clubs are handling it, take this to heart, check out Ziggy’s in Hudson still tonight, where there is an act that has not been there before, as is the realm these days when you want to be heard as the best of music. And I’ll list how other such businesses are again, using their signage like never before to make their case, but that’s secondary to The Music. So I’ll caption what that yes, very arguably dynamic duo plays and DJs soon, but I just got back from checking out the three-evening-piano music that frequents the place early, as they are literally back to five nights of music a week. So what makes this duo special, that has a look to them much like that of the guys in you know, those four fab friends in Impractical Jokers, and you can likely expect some of this tonight, check back in a bit on this web site and I’ll clue you in, on this and more that will be there even later this weekend.

In addition to tonight, it is almost an automatic that it will be an Awesome August at Ziggy’s, A to Z, begin again, with My Favorite Friends on the upper level Friday, billed as the most awesome (again) audio and video rock ‘n’ roll show in the Midwest, as saying the Upper Midwest would exclude Iowa and Slipknot, (mask reference later). Then Sunday Funday, (in caps for this use), features Kris Vox of longtime-costumed-rock-spoofers Hairball in each of these seven days to come, starting at 5 p.m. as it is this time somewhere and sometime, including now Hudson. Some of this can be said otherwise, but he is the man with the Vox. Comfort/street food specials, some of each, if this has not been Wisconsin cheesy enough already, will also be reported soon for the Ziggy’s weekend and beyond as we continue to snub our nose at all things virus).

Must reference a bad new-business-story headline, inadvertently from back in the day, (with the name changed to protect the, well, somewhat innocent), Beatrice has been open since March. Must admire that kind of stamina. Hope her store has that much shelf life, as the ‘we’re open’ signs have been up everywhere, taking various formats by storm. Now that, going back …

August 12th, 2020

Big business, and bigger banners for beer, burgers and brats — and maybe even brandy — beckon on the beat. And that beat, as per the previous headline, is one I had as an editor on duty at the good ol’ Hudson Star-Observer; the mistake was caught and fixed after a laugh, but what is happening to businesses trying to find ways to stay “open” these days is no laughing matter. And while businesses in Minnesota tended to run for cover, their counterparts in Wisconsin were far more creative in refusing to knuckle under and keeping the lights on. Here is a snapshot of their stories, and how they’ve been promoting themselves with the signs you’ve seen before even considering an entry, (with much more to come on this topic on this web site, as it continues to unfold):
When the virus was first at bat, there were a virtual gaggle of ways to get the message out that things would not be the same for a while for conducting commerce. And even now, the Agave Kitchen and Bullpen Cantina chipped in with more than cow chips for fodder, having their bull’s head propped up at the top of orange cones that were front and center at either end of their dedicated parking area on Second Street, and then bent around the corner for greater ease of takeout. Then the veritable heads of the bull on top of the cone, filling the hole on top, were Taken Down For A Time, possibly at the bequest of the Zoning Police, only to be Back Up In Black come August. Some of them right away — not just on the wall or on the curb, but even in the highway right-of-way — were signs saying “open” and were in big letters, capital letters, colored letters and even multicolored letters, and a range of sizes, shapes and wired-down paper versus cardboard, plastic placards with a pair of sides, or Light Up Everybody neon, to boot. Some off the wall said temporarily closed, some indefinitely and everywhere between. One village bar took the time to make a massive cleaning and another smack-dab downtown took it to another step of complete remodeling, a process lasting many days before there was any consideration of takeout or delivery. Indeed some places had a menu that did not match well with bringing it to you, and if there was little space near the front doors, because of a concrete partition or handicapped-only spaces, things got even dicier than pepper pieces on a pizza. The champ of such creative vagueness was a place that hawked their own brewed beer “on tap,” brought to you in anything than a frosty mug.
Soon there were as many as three parking spaces in a line that were closed for anything but takeout, and places found ways to keep up the taking of orders without coaxing people too far into their joint. Others posted small signs that asked people to wait to be seated — when only two or three steps inside the vestibule, but still being spacious enough to let them sit at a table there. And if people at that venue, Key’s Cafe, felt more comfortable with the meal being brought out and even carside, they would comply in much like the old A&W. (Again, no firm word on whether frosty mugs are a part of that picture).

A tale of three city bars and their newly live music, as they strive to adapt and make their way through a post-virus concert scenario — and you never know what may make it different in coming days and weeks, as masks are required, and people likely will flood over from Minneapolis and its closures even more

August 6th, 2020

So, what’s the lay of the land with reverting to the Hudson-area bar scene’s music making, back to somewhat normal, as much as that gets these days and that may soon again be redacted, after the virus hits close to the half-year mark of wreaking as much havoc in the area as Slave Raider was once known for?
The effect can be seen in a triangle of local music venues in the closest-by downtown, adapting and making due, even as the taverns have been cited in Minnesota as a key problem with social distancing and thus spread of the virus. Sounds like a metal concept album, or at least a zombie-zonked sci-fi flick. Suddenly the cheeky classic recording of Wisconsin Death Trip isn’t funny anymore.
— Jennifer, a friend of HudsonWiNightlife even in pre-virus days, had late on-line school and an early morning and had to bow out of seeing an essentially unscheduled part-of-duo performance by Garret, he of gargantuan gig girth, lingering long on the local landscape, but even though that means being on the show prowl for several years with his unique style of careening mostly just under control, apparently its not quite enough to get the number of shows he’d like. As being introduced from the stage, “hey Garret, you been playin’ much these days? …” The jist of the look on the face of the slam-acoustic-guitarist-vocalist who has ranged around the region, and the pause by the man who asked, seemed to underscore the sad truth if you’re many a musician — not enough shows to make most weekends busy, as you would need to not only quit your day job, but not even cut back to par-time. But Garret is not alone in that regular worry for such players; at least his gigs if not in Hudson generally take him south, where there is generally more bounty.
— One block up, to the north, at the Smilin’ Moose venue where a server had said in early July that the shows were starting up again, the marquee belied the point to a degree, as there was nary a mention of the big Friday night extravaganzas that were put on hold many months ago, and when combined with the way the seasons fall, have as a staple the time frame that matches a three-season porch . (It did mention that on Saturday and Sunday there were now the smaller patio shows, typical of summer, but the names of players were not listed). Some venues have said they may not know until simply hours beforehand just who will be on the stage — for certain. That status may be more typical of full bands, rather than soloists and duos). And even those top acts from the region that the Moose gets, usually are listed on the marquee, but not updated right away when the month turns.
— Across the street, its a much different take on things. At Urban Olive and Vine, where the main publicity is on their placard put up on the street on applicable days and into a bit of the evening, and on their own social media, but hardly anywhere else — in what’s not been that usual — including this site as an actual ad, the three-foot sign lists a whole host of different performers of the Smilin’ style. For the next several weeks, they unknown to the venue in most cases, and even largely to the immediate area, are strutting their stuff in a corner section carved out in front of the left side of the front window, and reserved for players.
And that triangle of venues listed may be the bulk of what’s available for service partway into the decade — thusly Back To The Future? — because of the Minneapolis mayor’s edict that bar ordering no longer be given at the counter, which means I’m not immediately sure just what you can or can’t do. But Wisconsin goes again in a savior role, at least through the weekend when the new closure arrived. But now, as the Badger State did its norm and its love for providing beer to all comers and saving Minneapolis, as it followed the Gopher State as far as what will play out. Masks soon were required to be onboard everywhere, first in one state then the other.
So in a few days, when the music is more fully grounded and things continue to unfold and options open up, I will be the music man at your service to be a primer for the best of the bands

If stir crazy ‘cuz of the virus, now get Kozy with the New Guv, who is the new sheriff in town, actually, via a Korner merger and is hoping to hit a home run with a baseball doubleheader. They have it all: Brewers, Twins, Cubs, Indians … and why the last one mentioned? Stay tuned. Say hey, it’s a diamond in the rough; not so rough, actually.

July 24th, 2020

(And you believed boundless Big League contract buyouts were … boastfully big? What about this “merger” I just batted out for bartering of two of the village’s best bars; actually the owners of Kozy Korner buying Guv’s Place? And moreso then just the aforementioned-and-following baseball series buildup, is the match with the mega-Major League movie monstrosity and its moguls, if such can be used for Milwaukee-ans. So go, just five fawning paragraphs down, and check out the new-look-then-old-look Indians meet the new version).

By gosh, baseball is finally back, and the pros can be seen battling it out during a broadcasted brew-haha at the new and improved Guv’s Place on Friday night. There will also be, available, outdoor seating and all the hot dogs and brats for sale that would befit such a spectacle involving the Brewers. And with that said, all the competition, fourfold, that will be On Their Living Color TV Screen(s) are familiar, as are the food and drink are long fan favorites.
But to further the point, this is a new sheriff in town, and could be known not as Marshal Dillon but Kozy-Guv’s. Yes I said Kozy, as the Korner people a block down the way have a couple of weeks ago purchased Guv’s, they say hey, and you can write the next story in what will be an ongoing Kozy Korner sequel with them starting tonight. It says so on the Kozy sign, in parts of the village of North Hudson more southern, but walk just the lengths of two infields and make it a doubleheader?
And the obvious next question about the new sheriff in town is this, which place will prove to be the sheriff and which the deputy? You can come on down and buy a beer and thus start to cast your vote at the 7:10 p.m. starting game time for both the Twins (home) and the Brewers (away), but you can view both! They are being aired here in a simultaneous way of sorts but not of course on an actual split screen, as that technology may have to come later once the dust is settled around both home plates and the new Guv designs to be beheld.
And when was the last time a truly start anew opener-of-sorts of this magnitude was seen, in the Midwest broadly speaking? It’s ’80s baby, and it actually extends all the way to Hollywood. More on that parallel in just a bit, (and you might even see a scene on the wall!)

And we did go to the wall with this one. Ever wonder what the classic movie, if only thought of that way in Milwaukee and Cleveland, Major League, would be viewed as some decades later? Well that veritable news source considered one of the most reliable in the business, Parade magazine, you know the glossy but rag mag stuffed in your Sunday paper, that does entertainment almost as well as HudsonWiNightlife, ranked the flick as where in their top 10 of all-time baseball movies. What? Not even on the list? Guess you gotta be a Yankee, if only a Yankee doodle. So we of course at this rag will pick up the slack. The movie of course, found a reawakening of some old hand hacks and untested newcomers that moved the Cleveland Indians back to the top after years of being … the Cleveland Indians. (They are the opponent of the Minnesota Twins tonight). That being the reason I view tonight at the New Guv’s to be an opener of likewise and much like, epic proportions. For more similarities to the present day, tune in after the game tonight for a recap of sorts, which will likely take the form of yes, the form that the New Guv’s will take. But Major League will always have a major place in my heart, because when I was fairly new out of J School, I was working near the northwest Milwaukee suburbs in another rag to reference, a small daily where they worked your butt off almost around the clock — 50 hours a week was considered “overtime” but everyone wrote 49.5 hours on their time sheet every week, you get the picture — and how did I cope with being far from home and on my own and having an average of 3.2 minutes of spare time to myself every night? I went to the local theater, the only one in town, about twice a week and took in Major League. And each time around, I saw something new and erroneously not of Cleveland since the film was actually shot largely in Milwaukee. Like the Brewer scoreboard in back of a cameo by someone the likes of Pete Vuchovich doing his Gorman Thomas impersonation, both at the plate and in facial and nose hair — remember that “party favor” reference? But the reason I mention he of cut fastball and not well-cut locks, hey like me, is that since this is HudsonWiNightlife, there has to be a mention of a hottie, and definitely not Hot In Cleveland. The person to whom I refer is a lady I talked with at length after one of the showings — this always seemed to happen with a person or two when we all hung around and eyeballed the credits for other baseball references — who actually knew Vuchovich since she was from the big city and not Beaver Dam (oops, did I let my guard down down?) and pointed out a tidbit to me that only she would know and wasn’t portrayed in the film with the same accuracy as you have come to expect from HudsonWiNightlife! Yeah.

(So, before the series is completely up, go see a game at Guv’s and find your own stories to tell).

It’s the ‘sign’ of the season for keeping a space between your tables, then pushing them to the back after everyone is done, like grandma used to do, but now this comfort food is perhaps even more vital then is advertised on a big neon sign glowing in a big city downtown — ask the People at The Village on the value of dollar wings, showing blazing orange-red on their marquee, and wines to win the season

July 20th, 2020

(And on Friday night, make it a tripleheader of sorts, via the Village Inn, as their Walleye, Walleye, Walleye is just right to open a new season).

The sign of the times for fighting for social distancing, and this should not need official review, is that you have to use your space even more wisely, and for sports bars packing tables like a rugby scrum and thus leaving space that hopefully offers as much room as a putting green, this is how the game will be won.
So says Minnesota’s Gov. Walz, who features a surname of hockey fame, which knows a thing or two above effective spacing. Grim, yes, maybe. So the following is where you can get your comfort bar food, before anything. And its sign in its colors and detail might rival that at Target Center, even though the Packers, and yes Vikings with an ouch, of late may not.
The Village Inn knows, as is even better then the series of political signs across the highway, at first down intervals, and not necessarily for Walz, but down in the ditch, that with the flood of similar-tone messages that have been put out as eatery ads — and we won’t even include the remnant of those other old once-a-block, small-cardboard scrims — that Their Village has been way ahead of the curve. They Hit The Street Running And Tried To Beat The Masses, like none other with getting people into their parking lot to sell their ares. And this is what they are putting on their “great big neon Broadway sign,” as thus referenced by Bon Jovi. Seeing it is halfway between looking at a magazine and a TV screen, as is unlike other marquees in the Hudson area because of its moving images such as a pizza chef at work (their favorite) and graphics, that often feature the whole plate of food you can buy, with up to four ingredients shown at a time. It even had done, earlier-than-any, the customer a service if a go-to special is for the time-being out, so they don’t have to come without reason and stretch the limits of social distancing; hey must taste fantastic to be that purchased, as it is said their chicken special has been — better to order for delivery later with one of their seven daily specials that many insist is to die for. This success has not been the case for so many other places, when taken stool by stool, table by table. But everyone has a new tale to tell on what they offer these days, why they are different from all the rest. I was schooled on this early in what-you-can-do-now-if-a-bar process, when you couldn’t be inside, by two guys from Minnesota out in the enhanced, still-give-them-what-they-need patio, and have been only the start of people who kept loving to come on over, even like those two for the first time, and partake in things like the especially well-visited both days and nights that would make KFC cry, via drive-though chicken special, (which is one of a kind as far as its prime positioning partway through the large parking lot and really accomplishing distancing), 25 for $25 wings in perfect synchronicity, open 15 hours that became 17 that became 19, walleye specials that newly corner in the market, as well as specials for taco, chicken, and sandwich and wrap (both on the screen at the same time). And the double cheeseburger special is big enough to fill the screen that makes up a sign.  The picture of the pork chop also, much like that ‘ol blues rat of the same name whose been a stage locally who hopefully soon will help us bring back the music.

It may be the primary example of how bigger is better with the way social distancing is mastered. Like everyone, at The Village Inn, there is a bar rail seating area where things can be tricky, although people not in one group of three or four but singularly seem to be adhering much more than in most venues, but it in the back area the size of a full-court-style, full basketball court, you will see something unlike anywhere else in the area because of its sheer size, with tables backed up into the far area like so many other places, but despite being larger in number, still leave more room for just floor area than almost anywhere else in the region should people want to dance or just hang out and socialize. Even then, there are more tables for use then make up the usual seating formats of this type. (These push-back-of-table patterns generally take up about a quarter of such a main room). You will, for example, see such a strategy at Milwaukee Burger as far as percentage, but they have less than half that kind of size in their primary room, which is never use for dancing, meaning a bit less unoccupied or table room. A marriage of both can be seen, by the way, in the small town of Mora in upper Minnesota, where the bowling alley has more tables then almost anywhere, which are piled back against three walls, and a portion of a fourth because the gateway between that main room and the counter and circular bar area is so small, and then the vacated dance area is still of average size. But back in North Hudson, The Viillage still somehow has it better, with the main area being closer-by once you have your drink, and also has the huge big screen TVs better positioned when the dawn of football season is here (when it comes again),
The approach is different at spread-them-out Buffalo Wild Wings, where there is a little more than six feet between any given table, in totality, on any given Sunday. At Smilin’ Moose, its again a marriage of the two with a part of broad areas set aside, although one of them can be filled with dancers on most weekends, and in other cases there is a closer-knit feel in their four rooms that form a quadrant, though there is a space in the center of the upper outdoors patio, possibly suggesting that the breezes of summer might blow away any viral germs. At Dick’s Bar and Grill, the dance floor that fills all of a central room is left all for those strutting their stuff, as believe me they do, but during dining hours — most of the day — it has been tight. The banquet area at Big Big BBQ is perhaps bigger than any of these, and they have backed a bit away from bands, but there is no word how space is divvied up, although the area may offer an advanattage since it is totally square in shape.
But when there indeed is entertainment, the example might be at the smaller than those mentioned in this article the parking lot at Hop N Barrel, which put up its a few-times-a-year huge tents, three or four shade-bearers by my count — which didn’t have the sheer sprawl of a M.A.S.H. unit but close, when its hosted a gospel group over the weekend of The Fourth. It used the space as effectively as one could, with gaps around three sides of the lot that kept the canvas from from reining in, to let in some air for the patrons and out for the sound. Following suit, the Postmark Grill doubled up on its large such awnings by — depending where you were seated — its wide but otherwide short patio, making up the difference with a double tier of such and loping cloth extending from the main building, which used to be a Post Office and now has patrons of a different pedigree.

<<For liquor stores, if that’s their whole gist, its a much different game, and this string of holidays that starts with the realm of March Madness at its midst helped give various ways to fill a niche>>
-To be American is to Go Big and also have countdown, or ups. One, two, three, four, (holidays that is), Cellar’s as a liquor store has all the numbers and sheer size to be your sum-total of each and every holiday revelry. The local “Cellars” is interestingly named since it is “up “on The Hill instead of being “down” at at your friend’s basement man cave. And unlike that place and its few couches, Cellar’s has a showroom the size of full basketball courts, as shown by the sheer number of entries both at east and north, and not Down There at your guys limited bar. But we all have changed our habits because of virus impact, so all to be viewed at his home is King James of cages-ball footage from back in the day when he got started, and Cellar’s at that time was already open, then known as Hudson Liquor. But hey, we need more than dribbling, sorry about the pun, and this is when you go to Cellar’s and can get bottles of wine for as little as $3.99! So we draw from all of these spots, their celebrations and more, as virus considerations mean things like St. Patrick’s Day revelry are compromised and have to be regaged and rescheduled for later, even much later. Which of course — and yes I am finally getting around to a point — is where the selection and pricing at Cellar’s comes to the rescue as the summer holidays continue to unfold, had already been a prime seller at their store of all things that started Irish, think enough different whiskey brands from that isle to fill a space equal to that huge freezer in your buddy’s man cave, then also Easter. (And I’ve thus went to “edit” and added this part of the content on a holiday theme for Cinco, mom and pop day, multiple motorcycle rallies and July Fourth, and believe you me their faves are very different and cross a gender gap beyond which flavor of champagne they should sip as dad, sorry to say, slinks to the end of the counter and orders all those ingredients for a Bloody from a hottie). Then Cellar’s redacted these and other offerings to fit a patriotic festival from below the Rio Grande, led by well, Rio herself and Duran Duran? And hey, tit for tat, that will carry forward to later on the Independence Day of another sort, ours. But we are getting ahead of ourselves, possibly the first time since Washington’s presidency that HudsonWiNightlife has been not only on time but before it (on an earlier presidency reference, but passing by the edit) … To that end, you can get a bottle of wine for just $3.99, for that post-Easter toast, or later for a hot summer night on the river. And to be kosher in this huge facility, there is Mogan David to boot. The people at this store have teamed up with Hop and Barrel on a far-afield trek to taste their own special brews, and pick the ones out for sale especially at their places business. And they have had the drinks of Cinco de Mayo covered too with cupboards full of brews.
— The “Casanova” himself as part of the Hudson Historic Liquors name would love it — as being the first liquor store over the border that, how should we state it, caters to various ethnicies — and as such is so Irish as to be traditional, or even rare for St. Paddie’s, is redacted to make it American for the Fourth, as in American Irish? Shelves and shelves of many brands of Irish whiskey, some with often long names I can’t even pronounce — and adding choices well beyond the Jamison everybody knows about, although to be clear there are a few of these varieties that sport flavorings and subtle color tints — and fill shelves by the dozens in a dedicated area toward the back, and having been there for months, to extend the window for St. Patrick’s Day celebrations that were cut short, to the length of a meager potato growing season of yore, regardless of the weather. Irish whiskey is usually batched in a truly original way as far as number of steps, and the window to try them in the U.S. and all over predates the days of colonization, so when the time comes, use and indulge them with patriotism in mind (that’s convenient). And as far as things go, no immigration no Irish whiskey here, no matter what your politics about bringing in people and their preferences that can include that great Hispanic and Cinco fiesta tradition, Things to be grateful for. The recipes go back almost 700 years. So get you and your taste “buds” going, and beyond just Bud and Bud Light, even those are as American as The Fourth and beyond into the pastime of a fantastic summer …
— The Northern Liquors store along Crest View Drive has been doing great business — even beyond the fact that says something that that they stock as much Kinky brand liquor as anyone — and even though its not quite going viral per se, has a big beer and liquor vault to offer that in a rectangular sense rivals the size of the entire rest of their facility. One whole side of shelving going up front near the cash register is devoted to the dozens of very dynamic varieties of different tomato-juice infused ingredients, that are brewed, distilled and yes even grown and harvested, to welcome in a Cinco summer and meaningful Bloody Mary mantra and indeed keep it going through July Fourth and further, aided by little four-packs of themed drinks, some bottled and all quaint as can be, for far less then the fingers on your hand. Again, the bar-based numbers game, and if Johnnie is not careful with the fireworks and his fingers, as stem from the old 93-X promotion, then they’d be fewer and symbolize even more of a discount … OK we won’t go there. To aid his full recovery, in the best Hispanic tradition and it as Catholicism goes, and believe me the workers there will vouch for this — simply because as Jesus said, Give he is is suffering stout drink — and then remember that Remedy of the Black Crowes thereafter, go Northern as well as Southern young man