A prominent law enforcement officer, who has passed on, had encountered an icon of his trade in one of The Greatest cafe moments in local lore:
— A recent tidbit surfaced that Muhammad Ali, the fantastic fighter who recently died, actually gave an autograph to the also passed on, then-local-deputy who later became a longtime sheriff, Paul Burch, who wasn’t sure who the boxer was when first seeing him at a St. Croix County cafe, but then approached him anyway. Ali was The Greatest long before the ultimate fighting craze took over at places like Buffalo Wild Wings. But as far as “heavyweights,” I’ll instead go with someone also recently deceased who was met via other exploits in the “squared circle,” indeed in the can and towering above it. That’s where a local bar stalwart met the late Dusty Rhodes, one of the best Old School pro wrestlers, albeit at the bar urinal the next stall over. That one with the less looming presence next went on to rub elbows with guitarist Joe Walsh, at a picnic and then at a second location that had no relationship. (It wasn’t the mansion of which the former Eagle forgot the price. To continue the theme, maybe that’s why Mojo Nixon lyrically called for the death, also, of one of that band’s members).
— In the same vein of people continuing to make their mark although now dead, a relative was in part a star of the show at the recent Willow River Cemetery Walk. His family’s grave area was the site of us reading a seven page monologue about their former doings locally. The connection with nightlife? That person was Lew Reid Micklesen the linguist, not Lou Reed the singer, although both icons deal with language. Actors portraying members of the period were asked to dress the part, formally, despite the 90 degree heat, even if that meant draping your suit-jacket over a chair and causing an observer to say it seemed to be missing its head. (And it’s true that dead men don’t wear plaid).
— And then there’s another synergy, North Hudson style. The sign at Season’s Tavern said Yummy in my Tummy and on the same main drag a mile up there is the aforementioned, Blue Yummy special of Miller Lite. One good beer deserves another.
— Speaking of NH, I’ll bet they wish this one-way wasn’t the only way. Wisconsin Street West in North Hudson has been temporarily made into a one-lane street taking you toward the Main Drag. I’d venture a guess that the people at the Mallalieu Inn, and possibly Starr’s Bar, which need the street to allow patrons access using the primary route, can’t wait for that “temporarily” to end. Of course there is the option on a long detour that first takes you to the other end of the village … At least the local planners appear to have made a decision to conduct all their road work in one fell swoop, git ‘er done and be done with it, meaning no more detours.
— Of course all this road construction means that fed up drivers will take liberties. One was the late-night guy (I’m assuming) who happened onto Second Street where it was closed off, than got back onto the area of the street that was open to traffic by going about a yard onto the curb to get around a barricade. If it would have been further into that grassy yard, he might have nicked a street sign. And then at the parking area in front of the Smilin’ Moose, where a few feet up the street was torn-up and guarded by sawhorses leaning toward the centerline, some bikers when parking used that as a license to ebb into the portion of street where traffic would normally flow. But no worries, it doesn’t now.
— A message on the marquee at the Agave Kitchen a couple of weeks ago proved prophetic, in a way that probably wasn’t anticipated. It read: “Down town Hudson has what you love.” That obviously doesn’t include road rehab. A subsequent Agave message, referring to the horrible massacre in Orlando, was more exacting: “There is no honor,” it read, in taking the lives of the innocent.
— Haven’t mentioned Woody’s in Bayport for awhile. It was there that on a slow sports TV night, patrons made a request to switch the tube to women’s softball, the ladies of which were putting on a modeling show, possibly during the Seventh Inning Stretch. The bartender, who knows a thing or two about this via her longtime work at Alary’s in St. Paul, where the evening uniform was for a long time basically a bikini, gave a big buildup to the player’s makeup, specifically long lashes.
— A friend of a friend was back dancing at Dick’s Bar and Grill, doing as bump and grind. That makes my recall a time during the cold of winter when she dragged by onto the dance floor and showed my in intricate detail how I could be a better dancer, from how not to shuffle my feet, to just how to circularly gyrate my midsection, and how not to do it. I didn’t know this Dancin’ Fool needed that much help.
— And maybe some of the summer of love for Prince has run its course. At Guv’s Place in North Hudson, the bartender suggested a “happy song,” unlike the then-playing Toxicity by System of a Down (again, death imagery). So, someone else suggested a Prince tune, to which the response was that he’s been overplayed — anything but that. Spin some country instead. And that’s happy, came the retort? The musical answer came up next: Humble and Kind by Tim McGraw.