Contact us
Back to All Posts

Such as described, are the comings and goings of the green, on this green day. And on into the weekend. Irish drinking (song) choices, thus played out in living color as men and women cut from that cloth.

Chaotic entry …
As so often, it was a different crowd at Dick’s Bar in Hudson, like the St. Paulites not at the Xcel Energy Center at that very moment, huge green top hat sitting next to her, and for her part the headgear was much the same with a lot of cleavage around green cloth in their clothes everywhere. Strutting down the sidewalk that ran aside were two suits and ties, all appearing totally of course in the color of lime. And not that on the rim of your whiskey or other drink of Irish ilk.
So top coat? Top hat? Wear it? Wallet’s fat?
Bartender Bailey, again a great name on St. Patrick’s Day, went on Amazon and was left with only ordering this T-shirt for her and her shopmates: OK it was a great shirt, in truth: “Irish (symbol) I were dead.” (She also rocked her multi-green-faceted, Emerald Isle-style, top with hat to bottom, wardrobe enhancements, and was in her social element). The main counter area sported a several-foot-long string of shamrocks.
The Moose man of the day said essentially this on his shirt, but not himself personally, just an observation: Sloshed on this day? How much makes you so?

— More various holiday themed, including this just past one if you read down far enough, postcards from the edge (of a ride!) See Picks Of The Week. —

At his Moose bar was a woman wearing a shirt that was creative as far as the theme of various shades of green. So fresh squeezed? It could have been an ad for sweet relish. Green chilis and bell peppers. Are we sure this is not Cinco de Mayo. Hot dog! (Sorry. That silly joke didn’t cut the mustard).
A few chairs away and around the bend of the bar-rail, there was the ultimate Irish redhead, although long straight not curly locks.
Mountain of a man and he’s Scottish too, not just Irish, outside my driver pulls up. Like so many, this guy I know is from both sides of the isle. Maybe Brit also.
There was not too much busyness up and down the cold main street, at least fairly early, but many said that would change when it got close to midnight, and St. Patrick’s Day, actually, had past. Hudson Tap was very packed, even more than earlier as one of the few, well prior to 12 O’Clock. Unusual, as people on this holiday don’t usually wait until late to get going.
When going up and away back to the Great Northeast, Burkhardt was very busy as typical, but Boardman was quite boring. (Unlike around 5 p.m.) New Richmond’s main streets were as mixed a bag as the often quaint Irish of old and new.
Little Italy bartender Shauna had very red hair, but said although she’s a wee bit Irish, but mostly German, and a smidge of other things. Her last name evoked also invoked thoughts of Irish and it was very obscure, but that also delved into the Duetsch. Her family has discussed where their current goings-on have come from. For my part, she indeed looked very much like my cousin, Emerald Isle through and through, named Eithne.
Slide into another Saturday, another T-shirt, another $3.75. Sitting next to me making love to her tonic and gin — or maybe Guinness or Finnegan’s — was someone best described as an updated bit of Irish, with a bit of post-punk style. Her look thus, was very dark green. Could this be Flogging Molly or Dropkick Murphys, or their copiers.
In the grocery aisle, come Sunday, was another only slightly-as-dark green, true Irish with long red hair that that was waved around when hitting her chest.
On sale? Three or four pints for $11.99, oh that’s ice cream not any of those Irish drinking faves.

Share the Post:

Related Posts

  • I’ll be brief and punchy with this headline notation, as we transition to giving you more and sometimes shorter choices. And you may notice some of that as you beckon forward. It’s circular. Like a flush. Be careful what you mix, heads vs. text, drinks vs. food, and all kinds of potions — that may go bump in the night. —– Punchy, potentially, but I digress or progress with a new patriotic addition.
My mom has told me not to be a potty mouth when I write, as she certainly would not appreciate hardly any of the standup humor on say, Comedy Central Radio. SNL maybe. But after 11:30 p.m. … But there comes a time where a man must make a stand. And for this jokester, it was now when he had to choose whether to pass on the opportunity that would otherwise bite him in the butt, for in front of and behind him is the Mother Lode. Or should I say load. Or “Mothers” of Invention. Heh heh, heh heh, Butthead, look...
Read More
  • This coulda been Vanna White’s next Big gig In The Sky, if the scaffolding was not so high. So this is how the project went, by the letters and numbers, of get Trump’s name erased from the Kennedy Center. The $250 bill might be tougher. Sad but true. So, What are there more of going on right now, wars or Trump pet construction projects?
So the wall is down. Of letters, that is. Not down by Mexico. Cemented into the concrete. Of the Kennedy Center. Where music has sat. (Near where a now defunct wrestling arena rusts in peace. Or a bloodied White House lawn. With leftover paper cups and plates, more likely bowls and small utensils, anyone?) Or more ornate than inside? A tarp the size of Pennsylvania, the predominant battle state, covers workers as they chip. So geez, how big are the letters? Four times 50 living workers high? But now none remain, or so we are told by flunkies. Or is...
Read More
  • Stressed out as a caregiver? She’s back at yah. This is a rare case of a husband and wife being joint caregivers — for each other — aided and abbetted by the fact that they have a lot of the same disabling conditions. So she shovels snow using a walker/scooter, while he cooks gingerly using a microwave and offers her a plate when she sits down, in an easy chair, in a reversal and new take on traditional roles. Whatever it takes. Necessity is the mother of invention. —– In a new add, Towns and the champion Knicks got kicked around but still got their kicks in the long run … As do Norwegian dancers.
A few years back, I wrote an article about Hudson Deacon Tom Kroll and how he did so many extra dutiful tasks, his living out the Gospels tirelessly, when his wife was ill, in addition to his regular job. I was inspired at the time to pen this, about my own lovely, disabled wife — we were separated briefly but now back together with our 40th anniversary this month, as wholehearted caregiving has many strains — and how an atypical view of standard roles, out of necessity, made things work, as far as our approach to work and home that’s...
Read More
  • He says, and goes fishing with the boys. She says, then goes to the middle of Texas, inviting her mates to a ranch/villa built for the ages. The bachelor and bachelorette parties were on the same night, but though very different, they had some things in common … like the snakes, at least three kinds, to avoid. (None with exotic dancer.) But while away, they did not avoid each other, completely. He made a phone call. —– Just added, last call included a Carolina cowpoke.
What do fishing, maybe in the dark, thus a Texas ranch, snakes of various types and do they come or stay out after dusk, eating either and only fine food or snacks, and a game of cards — likely just one each — have in common. And no strippers or Chippendales. And an only half or quarter, not full Monty. (Who is Monty anyway?) Or cowboy or cowgirl hats. Although there was some dress-up. More Barbie than boots on, I think. It’s an easy answer, connected and conflicting, but not in all or dirty ways, bachelor and bachelorette parties. One of each...
Read More
  • Full metal jacket? Hey, I wasn’t exactly to the point of going Rob Halford. But tastes aside, there must be some reason why after 26 years I was shunned, like going Bob Daisley by Ozzy at his reunion? OK, I know, my style may not have fit with the packed crowd. And the last couple of times for this, I tried to do too much with ad-libbing. So yeah, I get that this time around, I was the somewhat unusual choice to be the one left off the set list, with singers clamoring to get up there. But seriously, just being analytical of strengths and weaknesses as a singer here, no hard feelings. I’m not Dio. (Or Traveling Wilburys, a when jumping inside, inside joke.)
It was clear to me at the most recent Jeff Loven music show in Hudson, for Memorial Day weekend, that there has been a changing of the guard. The sword has been passed. New blood, like Yungblud, has been brought in. And, I must say, loyalty — amongst the devotees who travel frequently and all across the two-state area to virtually all of Jeff’s shows — has been rewarded. They are the royalty, in what just makes good business sense that I can appreciate. In a significant but not unprecedented altering of course, I was not one of those asked...
Read More
  • Songs by Napalm Death? A fire swept down my very street today, where the babies were burned. (But alas, a new A/C unit is on its way up the freeway.) The Stones did not leave these themes unturned, either, or should I say unrolled. Oh wait, this all was my cooker of an apartment, and we are not talking the kitchen. But all these matters will become more pressing, a pressure point, as the new normal especially in southern climes is temp well into the triple digits. It is these people, the third world, and their heat stroke not mine, that most concern me. (Another example of hellfire temps just added. Sin after Sin.)
Trial by fire. My broiling heart in my efficiency flat still beats a bit, in concern over those boiling over in worse apartments in a Chicago tenancy, or on an ocean island instantly-burn-your-feet beach or dessert, or forced to endure ice baths just to keep cool — or simply be offered no way to maintain an ice-dripping body other than also read a non-cookbook at the library, or select not a big steak you can’t afford but a 73/27 burger from a freezer and slap it on your forehead. Just not too hard. All these things are ones where you especially today either burn or...
Read More
Scroll to Top