Welcome to spring in Wisconsin, where the waters run free, and often from the sky … but you still, mind you, might not have a pot to piss in. Weather effects where and how you can go, literally, as I plant a seed. Read down for how (nightclub) doors open, but you might have two sets of them to negotiate to go, fully.

As we now have spring, or are near it, certain doors open, and others close, as even as we’ve seen in so many ways lately, the fickle traffic to which the nightlife scene caters, ebbs and flows, with the weather.
Or like the need to go. Literally. The news was pronounced by a doorman as I walked down that same old sidewalk, as I had done hundreds of times before, to an old club that literally had existed for much more than a century. So even though I’d many times seen an old acquaintance and his business rivaling roto rooter, maybe the older building and its ilk of plumbing could use an upgrade …. The man had been there many a night, ready to go, when the club had just closed and the time was right. That is when they do such cleaning. Just ask a longtime woman friend who just got back in the biz, across more than one city.
It was less then 11 p.m. and the door, the captain said, was closed. Even though programmed to receive, they not for once as they bill themselves as never closing, usually very true except for things like this, were in the mode where it was not, that you could never leave ….
They were ushering people out as, God forbid, as he just might consider it and its glam patron-dancers a shitshow, the glitz gave way, as their shitter had shitted out! It wasn’t working and the place was now closed.
Right away, before I could even laugh too much and get around the nearest corner, people on the near sidewalk and across the curb were lamenting about how they would now be able to pee. Both men and women, so I take it there was more than one toidie that temporarilly conked out. At least this shows that business (had been) good. The mind reels more. Would the bouncers give those who needed to leave a passcode for The John, and its door, to expire if not used in five minutes?
I assume they got all things fixed so they could fix Bloody Mary’s, a hallmark of theirs, in the morning. Maybe they made an emergency, come-after-hours call to the plumbing route-it-out guy, but he could have been out bowling or enjoying other types of nightlife, broadly.

— But other doors were opened up here, as the elements decided which way they would go, even as they again were being fickle, In Through The Out Door? Downtown, even before the Hudson Tap thrust forward its as-such open door policy, which they next-day did, the Awakened Soul shop had their main of two doors flung free, and the same was true of Seasons Gallery. All at a full 90 degrees. —

Back to my cleaning gal, who will not cut corners. See obviously has a green thumb, despite her protestations, saying she kill anything that should grow. We both like Metallica, although she as usually a fan had questions about my karoake version, now done a second time, of Welcome Home (Sanitarium). So all things considered, maybe I should try instead, The Thing That Should Never Be. As one of her new and very small plants, that never made it past the small-bit-of-stringy-stuff-stage, both of them sentimental in nature, died right away and another flourished. To the point that in this not-quite-May, it already was as big as a bush. Her gmail photo(s), of both, do prove it. So I must reference Metallica again, and their song that recently re-caught my fancy, over the Easter holiday and we’re not just talking lilies here, rather the band’s inspirations that prominently include the classic Biblical epic The Ten Commandments … that being the anthem Creeping Death. I quote: “I will be with thee, bush of fire.”
Could have used some of that, in a more balanced way, during the recent thunderstorm disparity that really pointed up climate change. Open door(s), depending on where you live. While here it was cold and windy and rainy and generally nasty, down in the other end of the state, the nearer-than-north, southeast part that is Milwaukee, they were pushing 80 degrees. A guy outside the library had on a hoodie that was closed to a parka, while down there at the beachfront, lord can only imagine, as I know what the new coeds wear this time of year, when the time is right.
They, or Iowa as they are us, were a couple of days later on the high (pressure?) end of a huge weather front that crossed the continent north-south almost to the doorstep of my niece in Texas, as in Austin. She is quite the flashy one as far as fashion, and I wonder how the disparity of her being just-south-of-the-situation effected what she did?
But doors were opened up here, as the elements decided which way they would go, even as they again were being fickle. Downtown, even before the Hudson Tap thrust forward its as-such open door policy, which they next-day did, the Awakened Soul shop had their main of two doors flung free, and the same was true of Seasons Gallery. All at a full 90 degrees. But the latter two did not replicate today, even when it got warm, replaced in that mode instead by Ziggy’s.

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