‘Tis the Season

With Thanksgiving behind us, and Christmas bearing down like a category 5 hurricane, the holiday season is in full swing. Here in River Falls, a festival called River Dazzle officially ushered in the Christmas season.

Even before Thanksgiving, our little Happy Hour group of retirees had an fun gathering on November 17. On that day, I performed my first actual show in 35 years. Our friends, Dave and Nancy, offered their commodious garage—complete with fake chandelier—for the day’s entertainment. Daughter-in-law Amber joined us, and she had the school bus drop the grandkids off at our house rather than theirs, so they were able to be there as well. I love the fact that, in a small town, you can make that sort of change with a simple note or a phone call. One couple, David and Jan, brought some excellent homemade wine. The day before, David called to ask if he could bring a few bottles. I said of course and suggested that I would only sound better if the audience was lubricated with spirits. He replied, “I don’t have that much wine.” I had a blast singing some of my old songs as well as some I have never performed before. With two full years to practice, I slid back into the performing role fairly easily. Someone told me afterward that, when I finished, there was an attempted standing ovation. However, at our age, getting quickly out of those folding camping chairs is not an easy task, and the attempt fizzled. The only real difference I noticed was that my voice began to strain after about 75 minutes, whereas I held out for four hours in my last show in 1986. C’est donc avec la viellese (“So it is with old age.”)

After a Thanksgiving dinner that couldn’t be beat at Ben and Amber’s house, we planned to lie low the next day. About noon on Friday, however, I recalled that River Dazzle would be held downtown that day. River Dazzle is another annual event in River falls. (Have I mentioned that this town knows how to throw a party?) The town celebrates the official start of the Christmas season with trolley rides, hot chocolate, games, and face-painting for the kids, a parade featuring Mr. and Mrs. Claus, and it all culminates with the lighting of the Christmas lights in the trees along the median of Main Street. Like everything else, many of the usual activities associated with River Dazzle had been cancelled or reduced last year due to Covid, so two years of pent-up energy was waiting to be unleashed on the town this year.

The central event of the day is the “Chili Crawl.” This is a contest pitting 15-20 downtown businesses against each other in making the best batch of that cold-weather staple, chili. Groups of friends and families roam the 2-3 blocks of Main Street, ducking into the various businesses which are involved in the competition. The crawlers carry yellow scorecards and rate the various concoctions according to their own personal taste and criteria. At the end of the day, prizes are announced for both the cooks and the tasters.

What turns this simple contest into a wild event, however, is the fact that most of the contestants happen to be bars, pubs, bistros, saloons, and taverns along Main Street. Thus, many of the groups doing the judging taste their little samples of chili, mark their scorecards, and order something from the bar. Then they move to the next pub and repeat the process. That’s where the “crawl” part of the day comes in. There are perhaps a dozen drinking establishments along Main Street, and most of them participate in the Chili Crawl. You can purchase a special blue cup at the beginning of the day, and obtain refills at any participating bar for $2. For this day only, people are allowed to take their blue cups out of the bars and into the streets. The contest begins at 1:00 and runs until 5:00. By about 2:00, the downtown streets resound with merriment. Groups of happy revelers slip in and out of bars, blue cups and yellow scorecards in hand, with their plastic tasting spoons tucked behind their ears or into a head-band of some sort.

Kathleen and I arrived on the scene about 12:30, slightly ahead of the craziness. We had lunch and a beer in one of our favorite haunts, The Mainstreeter Bar and Grill. The scent of chili brewing in a large slow-cooker in the back of the room filled the air. About the time we finished, the tasters began to stream in. These initial groups were rather sedate and serious about their task, intending to taste and grade chili in every one of the participating businesses.  We had already decided that we would eschew the tasting contest this year. Two years ago, in our only other River Dazzle experience, good intentions soon deteriorated into lethargy as we decided to skip the chili and simply find a comfortable barstool from which to enjoy the madness. This year, we didn’t even pick up a scorecard: we would be spectators and people-watchers, rather than actual participants.

Our next stop was Johnnie’s, a comfortable bar that we had discovered during the summer. It’s a bit of an “old school” type of place as they don’t take credit cards and no food is served. They do, however, encourage people to bring food in from outside or have it delivered. They also have a spacious back room that is lent to groups free of charge, making it a favorite spot for local groups to meet. As it was still early, we easily found a place at the bar, ordered drinks, and talked with a woman who had come from out of town just for River Dazzle. Soon after we arrived, the place began to fill up with crawlers in search of chili and others just looking for a party. They both found what they sought. While sipping our drinks, we decided that we should explore a bar that we had never before visited. You know me: always looking to broaden my horizons. As we left Johnnie’s we saw a group of high-school carolers dressed in Victorian clothes that looked straight out of a Dicken’s story. They are a great choir with excellent harmonies. During Covid, they came to our cul-de-sac and sang Christmas carols from the street, so it was nice to see them in full operation again.

Our next stop was Emma’s. From the street, Emma’s looks like a thousand dives I had seen in Chicago: about 30 feet wide and 100 feet deep, squeezed between two other businesses. In my mind, I pictured an apathetic old woman, cigarette dangling from her mouth, standing behind the bar, and coughing just often enough to let you know she was still alive. Instead, the place had a warm feel as soon as we entered. Actually, the first thing we noticed was an odd smell. We realized that, in order to distinguish themselves from all of the other chilis in the contest, they had added limburger or one of the other varieties of “stinky” cheeses to the mix. We soon adjusted to the odor, grabbed some beers and selected a table from which we could watch the parade of tasters as they came through the door. It was especially fun to watch the kids. As each one entered, they immediately covered up their noses or made a face that indicated they did not find the cheese odor pleasing. Many simply did an about face and left without tasting the chili. Even without the children, though, a steady stream of people came in, tasted the chili, and had a drink before leaving. People entered singing and laughing and left the same way, dressed in their holiday finery. We saw garish sweaters designed to test the boundaries of bad taste; there were gaudy green-and-red hats, some designed to look like Christmas trees; there were red tights and green lamé pants; many had battery packs that kept strings of brightly colored bulbs twinkling on and off; one had a shirt of bright red poinsettias festooned with green Christmas lights; some wore ornaments as earrings; one wore a fat strand of metallic garland as if it were a feather boa. And many of the women were also dressed up.

Eventually, feeling the effect of too many beers, we headed out. We ran into several friends and neighbors on the street, which added to the festive feel of the day. So, even though we didn’t stick around to see the parade or the lights, were able to nestle all snug in our bed that night, assured that Christmas was just around the corner.

River Dazzle

After a Thanksgiving dinner that couldn’t be beat at Ben and Amber’s house on Thursday, we decided to venture out for another River Falls tradition on Friday. River Dazzle is a one-day festival that celebrates the start of winter or perhaps the beginning of the holiday season. I’m not exactly sure what its stated purpose was, but this town sure knows how to celebrate things.

There were special events all over town, from a free matinee film at the Falls Theater on Main Street to free ice skating at the hockey arena. Kids could make crafts, mail letters to Santa, have their faces painted, ride on a horse-drawn wagon, or eat cookies and drink hot chocolate. In the evening, a Christmas parade brought Santa to town and the festive lights along Main Street were lit. This year, the lighting had a special aspect to it, because, as of January 1st, all of the municipal buildings and streetlights in town will be powered by 100% renewable energy, rather than fossil fuels of any sort. It’s nice to know that my adopted home, despite its diminutive size, has that sort of global awareness.

As the grand-kids were with their other grandparents that day, we approached the afternoon with a more adult-friendly attitude. The weather cooperated. After 6 inches of snow on Tuesday, and before another 6-8 inches over the weekend, Friday afternoon was relatively warm, albeit slushy and overcast. We decided to participate in the “Chili Crawl.” The Chili Crawl, another free event, was a contest to determine the best chili in River Falls. About 20 businesses participated, including 10 of the 11 bars in a two block portion of Main Street. From 1:00 to 5:00, each of the participating businesses offered a tiny cup of chili to anyone who wanted to taste it. You could vote on your favorite, but tasters were also eligible for cash prizes in a drawing if they obtained stamps on their card from at least ten businesses. Kathleen decided that her recent luck in the Meat Raffle would spill over into this drawing, so she was determined to taste at least ten chili samples, earn the stamps, and win cash at the drawing. She was on a mission. As for me, my ambition went only as far as sampling a beer from each of the bars we stopped at.

When we reached downtown, there was a definite party atmosphere in the air. Christmas music filled the street. The sidewalks on both sides of Main Street were packed. Groups of people hustled from business to business carrying their day-glow green cards covered with stamps from the various places they had already visited. Groups of college students, friends from town, and entire, three-generational families strolled together from place to place. Many teams had planned their route ahead of time, hoping that efficiency would aid them in their quest. Most people dressed for the occasion. I saw deliciously ugly Christmas sweaters, Santa hats, and clothing that contained battery packs to keep the Christmas lights they wore twinkling all day long.

Our first stop was the Lazy River Bar and Grill, which is situated along the Kinnickinnic River that runs through town and gives it its name. We had a beer, Kathleen tasted her first chili, and we talked with a guy who explained how the whole thing worked. He wore a Santa hat with a plastic spoon tucked under the edge. No sense in using multiple spoons, I guess. The first chili was very good, and we quickly learned that, in Wisconsin, no chili is complete without cheese scattered on the top. We moved around the corner to a realty office, but a sign said, “No chili this year, Rick.” I love the fact that he signs with his first name, and everyone knows who he is. Next door, Broz Bar and Grill was packed to the gills with no way to really get inside, so we exercised options and moved down the street to the Maverick Corner Saloon. It was crowded, but we were able to squeeze into seats at the bar. I had a Spotted Cow, which seems to be the signature beer of a Wisconsin brewery called New Glarus. Good stuff. People came and went as we sipped our beer, and the crowd in the room turned over several times in about 20 minutes.

As we sat at the bar, taking it all in, a dour-looking man sat down next to me and ordered two Busch Lights. I nodded hello, but he seemed disinclined to engage in conversation, so I left him alone. When the girl behind the bar returned with his two beers, he ordered two more. I saw my opening, so, in my wise-ass way, I gestured toward his four beers and asked, “Are you expecting friends, or are you planning on a big afternoon?” Without cracking a grin or even looking directly at me, he deadpanned, “Both.” End of conversation.

We heard a commotion at the door, and a crowd of wildly dressed men came in, singing and having a great time. These guys had apparently taken literally the directive to don ye now their gay apparel, as they were decked out from head to toe in Christmas regalia. Christmas-tree hats blinked on and off, faces were painted, and elf slippers adorned each foot. They all carried the special River Dazzle cup that allowed them to carry liquor outside the bar, so they had clearly not been deprived of their concoction of choice while walking eleven feet to the next bar. One guy wore an outfit that was, in French artistic terms, a trompe l’oeil, or trick of the eye. (I learned this term while listening in on Robert Womack’s art history class at Harpeth Hall) It’s hard to describe, but it appeared as if he were being carried around on the back of an aged Santa Claus. Very clever costume. Eventually they rolled on out and we followed.

We tried several other places, including our favorite, the Nutty Squirrel, but they proved to be too crowded for our taste. About that time, I caught a glimpse of a frightening sight. Moving toward us with relentless speed, cutting a wake through the throngs of people like a World War II destroyer, with a maniacal gleam of holiday spirit in their eyes and a song on their lips, came my worst nightmare: Christmas carolers. This group all wore Victorian outfits that looked like something out of a Charles Dickens story. I’m not sure why they terrified me so much. I have the same reaction to mariachi singers and those annoying violin players who show up at your table in a romantic restaurant. (Okay; that never actually happened to me, but I’ve seen it in movies, and I live in mortal fear that it might occur someday). It all comes down to my uncertainty about how to behave properly. I mean, do I applaud? Do I sing along? Am I supposed to tip them? If so how much? Or, do I simply stand there with a stupid grin on my face and silently pray for them to leave? I know not what course others may take, but as for me, I did what I always do in socially awkward situations: I looked for the nearest available exit. I grabbed Kathleen’s arm and dragged her into the first doorway I saw.

It happened to be a Mexican Restaurant that was not participating in the Chili Crawl, but offered margaritas for $1. To recover from our narrow escape from a traumatic encounter, I had a fish-bowl sized one for three dollars while Kathleen had a smaller one and announced that she had had enough chili and liquor for the day. So, rather than the ten places she had vowed to hit, we had made it to two. I was reminded of the scene near the end of the Godfather where an aged Don Corleone says, “I don’t drink as much wine as I used to.”

We didn’t make it to the lighting of Main Street, and we were home before it got dark (as we usually are these days), but we discovered another fun tradition here in River Falls.

River Dazzle rules.