Thanks Given for Large Favors

Twenty Years Ago on FITK

When I worked with bands in bars in the late 70's and early 80's, there was one holiday that you did not want to work.

Thanksgiving.

Think about it.

The only people who went out on Thanksgiving were people without friends or family, or who were outcasts from same. Not a pretty crowd. That being said, if you did well on Thanksgiving you would probably get asked back to play—for Christmas night!

The worst was a place called The Cabooze. Here's a hint to judging drinking establishments: If the name of the place has some vulgar reference to liquor in it, you'll know exactly what you're getting into. Truth in advertising, you might say. A bar full of losers, loners and misfits- a sure-fire recipe for holiday frivolity.

This reminds me of some of the other fine watering holes in this area, past and present:

The Viking Bar (West Bank) had a consistent clientele for the last thirty years, the same crowd, and they aren't looking any better after thirty years. They've added appropriate live music awhile back- blues, blues and more blues. 

Palmer's Bar (West Bank) was the champ. Open for Breakfast, 365 days a year. No food served. If you just couldn't wait until 10 or 11 a.m., you can go here. Professional drinkers only, amateurs and dilettantes need not apply.

Moby Dick's (downtown) was so hard-core that, as legend has it, any A.A. member having a “sobriety pin” could swap it for a free drink—and the wall behind the cash register held dozens.

I've been fortunate. I managed to avoid being sucked into that mælstrom. So I give thanks for that, and wish the best for those who have not, those who are doing their "bit" to keep decadence and despair thriving.

UPDATE: All these places have since closed.

4 Comments:

Blogger lab munkay said…

Only place worse than a dive bar on a holiday is a rehab center. "Please please please keep me from working another one." Next year I'm slipping brandy in the sweet potatoes. Happy Thanksgiving Batty.

Blogger Kindredband said…

Catharine's dorm is very close to the Viking Bar. It's been closed for a long time, with “Gone Fishing” displayed on the marquee. After I told her about some of the great bands I’d seen there, Eleanore said it was sad to see it slip into decay.

Reposted

E

City Planners have given the area of downtown Minneapolis between Hennepin and First Avenues and 6th and 7th streets the name "block E." It was redeveloped about ten years ago into sort of a "Vegas-style" entertainment district, but without a casino. In the late sixties and early seventies it was a funky collection of scruffy businesses- steak houses, Moby Dick's bar, pool halls and porno shops. None of them could beat E Floyd's Paranoid Art Gallery for downright weirdness. Located in a half-basement right on the corner of 7th and Hennepin, his gallery stayed open for a couple of years with no apparent means of support. It was said that E scrounged stuff from the dumpsters of MCAD (a local art college) for his gallery ("found art"?) but if you went down and acted interested, E would talk about "his" art with you. E was more of a beatnik/hipster than an artist, even sporting shades and a goatee. E was about ten years ahead of the curve. Soon there would be lofts and galleries throughout the nearby warehouse district while E had disappeared without a trace.

I like to think that the city planners named the block after him:


Photo by Denny Schwartz, circa 1969

UPDATE: After he left Minnesota, E (given name: Floyd Edward Nachtwey) moved to Hawaii, settling in Hilo. He married, added his wife’s last name (Bernier) and started a family. He made his living as a graphic designer and ran for U.S. Senate in 1982, receiving 2.9% of the vote. He died in 2014. Many thanks to Barbara Lodermeier for her information on E as well as information on the music scene in Minneapolis in the late 60s. Much more about E. here.

Thanks Given For Large Favors

When I worked with bands in bars in the late 70's and early 80's, there was one holiday that you did not want to work.

Thanksgiving.

Think about it. The only people who went out on Thanksgiving were people without friends or family, or who were outcasts from same. Not a pretty crowd. That being said, if you did well on Thanksgiving, you would probably get asked back- for Christmas night!

The worst was a place called The Cabooze. Here's a hint to judging drinking establishments: If the name of the place has some vulgar reference to liquor in it, you'll know exactly what you're getting into. Truth in advertising, you might say. A bar full of losers, loners and misfits- a sure-fire recipe for holiday frivolity.

This reminds me of some of the other fine watering holes in this area, past and present:

The Viking Bar has had a consistent clientle for the last thirty years, the same crowd, and they aren't looking any better after thirty years. They've added approriate live music awhile back- blues, blues and more blues.

Moby Dick's (now demolished) was so hard-core that, as legend has it, any A.A. member having a "sobriety pin" could swap it for a free drink—and the wall behind the cash register held hundreds.

Palmer's Bar is the champ. Open for Breakfast, 365 days a year. No food served. If you just couldn't wait until 10 or 11 a.m., you can go here. Professional drinkers only, amateurs and dilettantes need not apply.

I've been fortunate. I managed to avoid being sucked into that mælstrom. So I give thanks for that, and wish the best for those who have not, and are doing their "bit" to keep decadence and despair alive.