Even well after New Year’s, the holiday display of big, long and multi-colored neon pipes (forever?) glowing were still reflecting the Light Of The World, and spelling out belatedly Merry Christmas to I-94 eastbound passersby just this side of St. Paul.
That beacon might be Hudson, where the downtown pushed thousands of partiers — most from Minnesota — through its halls and streets to ring in the New Year, with many arriving at the late hour that would be the normal closing time, and even a couple of hours beyond that, bolstering the total. A spike in numbers kept growing as the night went on — even as the cold continued to mount, reaching minus 16 toward the bitter end, and that is temperature, in Fahrenheit, not wind chill, which made the number even worse. But the cold finally gave customer traffic numbers a boot to the head come this weekend.
But on the Eve …
The spacious Hudson Tap was packed completely full with patrons, even more than usual by far, even though midnight was still waiting around the corner. The most noticeable look among bartenders was some earrings that looped and dangled down for more than two inches down the neck. A manager who is now a mommy had some time ago taken down her nose ring, passing that torch to staff. We hope that if there was any kind of direct transfer of rings, which I doubt heartily, hefty doses of disinfectant were involved. So if that is your kind of cool look, it still lives!
Despite the elements, there were some women going, and here I go again, bare midriff. (I told one server with such a look, and even shorter, that such dress is brave when its below zero, even if she’s behind a tub of beer, albeit swimming in ice. Her smile told the tale). That type of top along with, and especially, cloth leggings has replaced the Little Black Dress on New Years Eve.
A man and another man and a coatless woman ambled up to the main drag. “Where is the Smilin’ Moose? Is that it over there?” It had been just across the street the entire time. So how do people get away with showing skin on such a frosty-and-beyond New Year’s Eve in downtown Hudson? In stark contrast to the expanses that stretch on for blocks in places like the Minneapolis Warehouse District — what can be seen as the long and the short of it — a large series of Hudson bars over four blocks means you can park and patronize various of them without ever being out in the cold more than a block. Or even less.
Then there was the guy in a short-sleeved shirt — not the only one I’d seen but thank God for the collar — and a perky-in-the-right-place woman, walking along the main drag and talking about … how frigid they both were. Their destination, the Moose, had a heater pumping just over the top on the first step to get in, so maybe there could be a New Year’s kiss.
Inside that doorway, in a vestibule, the action heated up as many people tried to pass ID check and go dance. One man who looked a bit like a gangsta was let through right away — forget no wallet, no entry — as the doorman apparently knew him, and his character, we’re assuming. Another woman eventually managed to work her way inside, even though it seemed her ID was fishy. Even though she was already inside, she tracked down a friend/boyfriend/relative to vouch for the veracity of her ID, which she did at length with him. Uhm, he then had a shot at revisiting his initial decision to grant entry … so just retreat!
Others who came in were literally shaking off the cold, causing their voiced complaints to become a string of gibberish/exclamations. Even a guy in classic Minnesota flannel was shivering, verbally and physically. In an unusual twist from what you will inevitably see on any given night, nobody was being carried on the shoulders of their man, like a long lovely dancer might, going down main street. Perhaps inside? Despite the bitter cold, there were a few people who were sitting on the concrete outcroppings outside and conversing, (isn’t that what the balmier bar-rail is for?), thus stretching out bare legs. At least they weren’t like the woman with open-toed sandals where the pink toenails were quickly turning purple.
Back at Dick’s Bar, an older man who had not been out for a while was dancing slowly with stylish and carefully orchestrated moves. I told him he looked much like a younger Clint Eastwood or Keith Richards, both facially and how he shifted his feet. He really liked the comparison, especially the one to the latter performer. He added that he would not make it to the midnight ring-in, since that was before bedtime, and even 10 p.m. might be pushing it.
He was a one-timer, and there were some noticeable absences on the scene, most vital being Maya and some her friends, of either gender, who are or were regulars. In particular was someone I had not seen for years, but then had twice in December, as among her crew, at least she has been very cautious about Covid.
You could have stayed at home, and taken in a movie marathon. Even up to this date, the Microsoft Store is offering access to “revisit” the best of 2021 — and only in today’s immediate gratification society could going back a few months be “retro.”
Lastly, a backwards plug: Have have you or a loved one been negatively impacted by combat ear plugs, the ad asks? As a warm fuzzy (yeah right) reward, treat yourself as a New Year’s resolution — just do it! — to a Type O Negative combat-in-the-mosh-pit concert, as your plugs will not filter out that much stark-thumping noisy rock. Then take in the White Stripes live and Icky Thump, or as a downtown license plate said, Icky Trump?