Maybe The Sign Of The Unfriendly Host Would Be Funnier?

It's been awhile since we had a beer sign, so let's get back to it.  This one isn't particularly local, but it seems like there is something appropriate about a security camera keeping an eye on a step latter in front of a sign for a beer from Wisconsin.  I'm pretty sure someone dressed head-to-toe in red will come rushing by and trying to run off with the ladder at anytime.  They can use it to try to sneak into Camp Randall or something.  Better dead than red.  Friends don't let friends go to Madison.  All that sort of jazz.

This building, at 2913 Central Ave., apparently used to be bar or something, with this sign on the alley in the back.  Today it looks mostly abandoned, aside from its outdoor hardware storage.  If you peak between the rungs, you might be able to see that Heileman's Old Style is "The sign of a Friendly Host" at "March's Inn."  March's doesn't seem to have left much of a footprint on the internet, so I can't tell you much about it.

Which leaves us with Old Style.  As I mentioned, the brand's origins are in Wisconsin (death to Bucky!).  Those currently responsible for marketing the brand don't seem too interested in telling us anything about it (You're selling a brand like this and you're not playing up the nostalgia?  Really?)  The story takes us in the complicated history of American brewing.

Gottlieb Heileman emigrated from, surprisingly, Germany at some point in the mid-1800s, and made his way to La Crosse where he founded the brewing company that would ultimately bear his last name and first initial in 1858.  His son-in-law successor was in charge when they started making Old Style as their "premium" brand in 1905.  Later Russel Cleary (where there's a Cleary and a Gottlieb, can the Steen and Hamilton be far behind?) started a series of acquisition and consolidation in the 1970s and 80s , which ended up with the company controlling quite a few of the old line beer grands, including Grain Belt, before being taken over itself and passed around for awhile.  These days, Pabst controls both "Heileman's" and "Old Style."

Foreign Lands: Emeril's Ancestral Home?

Here's another one from my recent vacation. Let me begin with a warning that this post is not even remotely factual. As someone who is largely ignorant of the culture and history of Germany, I'm making this stuff up, people.

So, now that I've appropriately wet the blanket, this shot is from Bamberg, in the northern part of Bavaria. I've been to Germany a number of times, but this one was a new stop, and well worth the visit for its Rathaus perched amid the river in prime position to collect tolls.

We arrived in town after a fairly healthy drive from Berlin, which meant that the older members of the party went in immediate search of a restroom. Having found one in the tourist information office, I also stumbled upon this smokestack labelled "HB." And here's where we get speculative. For all I know, "HB" means "baker" or "factory" or something general in German. But to me, those two letters mean beer, as featured in the logo of the Hofbrau, of Hofbrauhaus in Munich. So I'm going with that.

Tipples

Rather than over-emphasize the bars of Cedar-Riverside, which are surprisingly post-worthy for a single neighborhood, I thought I'd combine them in a single post. In addition to these three, I had a shot of the legendary 400 Bar, which local mythology says was a key venue for Bob Dylan during his brief University of Minnesota days. The picture was pretty bad, though, so I must have deleted it. As you can see from the webpage, the place is not exactly a looker anyway.

Anyway, Grain Belt and the former Viking Bar are our first entry. Lileks jokes about the sign being in Dutch, but at one point it said "From perfect brewing water." As he notes, this bar used to have a fairly rough reputation, but apparently some good music. I lived nearby during my freshman and sophomore years, but never tried to drop in. This Flickr user got a great shot that shows that the former owners have gone fishing. It sounds like they at least had a good time on the way out.

Next up is Palmer's Bar. I've also never been, but with those signs, how could I not include it here? This place is literally in the shadow of the "crack stacks" off Cedar. But there has to be a story behind the dandy gentleman depicted on two sides, right?

The most recent Yelp! user to weigh in helpfully tells us that it's a great place to "get shitty," so, yeah, it's got that going for it. It's also listed on something called "thrifty hipster," although I really gotta question just how hipster a website that appears to value the availability of Heineken can really be. Last week I was at Nomad World Pub (no Heineken, thankfully) across the street, and I have to admit, there did seem to be a stream of hipsters on ironic bikes heading in the direction of Palmer's. Although come to think of if, the hipster crowd probably thinks that dude with the mustache is one of them.

Foreign Lands: Foreign Landmarks

For post #70, I'm breaking the rules a bit. Not that you guys would know, as these rules aren't written down anywhere, but I felt I needed to confess anyway. I'm not supposed to put foreign signs up here in the the premier, round-number spots. But right now that rule is in tension with the rule that every tenth posts is supposed to be something that can be legitimately called a landmark. It's a conundrum.

Anyway, I will console myself with the fact that it is at least beer. And, thanks to St. Paul's apparent lack of local loyalty, it's also beer we haven't covered before. So we've got that going for us. Which is nice.

It's the old Jacob Schmidt brewery. Jacob Schmidt immigrated from Bavaria in 1865, and after stints working at the Hamm and Schell breweries, moved to St. Paul and started brewing in 1884. After the original brewery burned down in 1900, they moved to this location on W. 7th St. The company stayed independent until 1955, before the first of several subsequent acquisitions. Schmidt stopped brewing at this location in 1990.

There have been subsequent attempts to make a go of it again, including by the Minnesota Brewing Company in 1991. They brewed the Pig's Eye, Landmark (as you can see, this landmark is also conveniently labelled "Landmark") and Grain Belt brands here until shutting down for good in 2002. Today there is talk of re-developing the space.

Be safe out there, because Big Jim is coming (apparently the American sportsman is afraid of him). Good thing you don't need a glass.

ETA: I can't believe that I let you down, esteemed reader, by failing to make the obvious Mongo reference. I wonder if the Candy Gram trick would work on Big Jim.

Anyone Know If BeerSignsOfMinneapolis.com Is Taken?

Clearly we need a palate cleanser to remove the sour taste of foreign beer from foreign lands, so why not some more beer? And what's better than local beer? And what could be more refreshing than one building with signs for both The Beer Refreshing and The Friendly Beer? I've talked about both before, but I found a discussion of the history of the Grain Belt brand (hiding so subtly on the Grain Belt website), so I've got a fresh link for you. It's been a long time a-brewing, but there was no way I could pass up the discussion of the '60s ad campaign feature the sign-painting duo of Stanley and Albert.

As for the building itself, it's Lee's Liquor Lounge. I've never been inside, and have to admit it looks a little seedy (being on the wrong side of the freeway) from the outside. That may not be fair, and it's certainly a name that's familiar, perhaps as a live music venue, so I'll have to give it a visit. As the history section on its website says, the bar dates to when this used to be an industrialized part of the city. Those days are long gone, as the fact that I would be able to see it from my bedroom if there wasn't another high rise housing complex in the way suggests.

Foreign Lands: One Wall; Several Signs

This wall, on the side of 262 E. 4th near Wacouta in St. Paul, has several ghost signs. I've decided to deal with them individually, but you can get a preview of them all over on Writing On The Wall.

Naturally, I've also decided to start with the beer. And, naturally, as we are in foreign lands, we also have a sign for foreign beer. Being St. Paul, you would think it would be for the local brew, but no, this is even worse. It's beer from Milwaukee. Can you image? Apparently that city simply has no pride.

Unfortunately I can't say for sure which Milwaukee beer it is, because someone decided to put a pair of windows directly in the name. It looks to me like it ends in a Z, so my guess it was either Blatz or Schlitz. Regardless, neither is from the land of the sky blue waters.

Rhymes With Clicks

I'm back. I hope all 4.5 of you that read each post had a lovely 4th of July weekend. I did, as the weather at the lake was more than a little perfect. It could not have been better, really.

But we're back in action now, and back with beer no less. I'm fairly sure this says Gluek's, although looking at it now it looks more like Glue's. There was to be a K in there somewhere. Regardless, we are back across the river in Nordeast (no, you can't call it Northeast). There will be more from the downtown core, which seems to be the gift that keeps on giving, but for now it's time to stretch a bit. So far I've only had one little bike trip through the area, but it made me more than a little nostalgic for an area from before I was born. I found a cool old neighborhood featuring brick houses and blocks with a church on one end and a neighborhood bar on the other. Granted, I'd only visit one of those two institutions, but it still seemed to me like the way to live.

As for Gluek's, well, there is a bar/restaurant downtown still, although I've personally not heard the best things. I've not been there in probably 15 years myself, so clearly I'm due. The building dates to 1902, which is certainly worthy of a visit. Gottlieb Gluek started his brewery at Marshall and 22nd NE in 1857. There are some old-fashioned labels and the like about the brewery and the brand here. The brand apparently came to an end last year.

There are many images for Gluek's in the Historical Society archive, and more than a few from Norton & Peel, which seems to be searchable despite the government shutdown. There are a ton of cool images, including some that go all the way back to the 1870s, and a number of mystery local bars of this type and some from the neighborhood. They are worth a look just for how the city used to be. My favorites, though, might be the ones anticipating the end of prohibition.

This particular relic is at 1400 NE 4th St.

Outside and Friendly

We've already covered the beer, brand and history, so maybe I'll go in a different direction with this sign on the back/inside courtyard of the old Grain Belt Brewery. As for the brewery itself, as the City of Minneapolis tells us, construction began in 1891. It was closed from 1927 until the end of Prohibition, but re-opened with the passing of that dark age and operated until 1975 when operations were transferred to St. Louis. Today it houses office space.

I was also a little surprised to see this ad, directly on the side of the brewery, sporting the name of Naegele. I get how the billboard portion of the former Naegele Outdoor Advertising business worked. They put up a sign and you pay to advertise on it. But why would they be involved in a sign on your own building? If that was a more interesting question, maybe I'd look for an answer, but instead I'll just point out that Naegele was a key source of the fortune that brought hockey back to Minnesota in the form of the Wild.

Getting back to beer, the building is an excellent example of what I call the "cool old building" architectural style. Yes, I'd be happy to guest teach an architectural class at your school. Meanwhile, enjoy this friendly sign from the front of the building:

Taste of Nordeast

I wanted something special for the 20th sign, the second full page of posts, so I decided to bend the rules a bit again (I'm The Decider, so I can do that) for a true Minneapolis icon. The Grain Belt beer sign has been flashing it hints of barley and hop goodness toward downtown from its perch on Nicollet Island for ages. It was apparently for sale and in ill repair a year and a half ago, and hasn't flashed as it's meant to for some time.

Before American brewing became concentrated in Milwaukee, St. Louis and Colorado (or who are we kidding, these days, South Africa, Belgium and Canada), Grain Belt was one of the regional brands that served the Upper Midwest. The brand dates to before Prohibition and today it seems the original yellow beer seems to be gaining PBR-like ironic popularity. Today it's owned by August Schell Brewing of New Ulm and the original brew is complimented by the deliciously darker Nordeast. The abandoned old brewery in Northeast Minneapolis is on the national register of historic places.

I'll Move On, I Promise

A final duo from the back of the Hotel Seville. My guess is that these are of a slightly newer vintage than the signs advertising rooms, but I don't know. The broken Hamm's sign and the rear-entrance Red Room bar, however, were too tempting to bypass.

This post brought to you from the Land of the Sky Blue Waters. It's the post refreshing.