There is a select clientele that you would expect to know and frequent Cal's Liquors, and you would not expect any of them to be pouring out of the skyscrapers that surround the bar. But the place actually draws in a steady stream of after-work drinkers, bike messengers, and garage rockers (mostly in different waves). If the patrons don't defy classification, they're usually nice enough to at least leave it at the door.
Mike Feirstein wears a plain gray t-shirt as he gives an invitation to "step into his "office"—a laptop set up near the end of the bar with an empty stool in front of it. He ponders a few different titles before he lists his positions as "Music Curator" and "Human Resources" with a smile. The humor seems to run in the family; when he pulls out a picture of his grandfather for backstory, the old man is gleefully giving the finger to the camera.
While the bar (and its attached liquor store) looks almost exactly the same as it did 60 years ago, there have been hints that change is imminent. The loud, brash bands that play late into the night now exit in the shadows of a 700-unit condo building. Permits for the outdoor patio have been more difficult to obtain. Mike even mentions redecoration, while the sign over the door reads: "What Would Neil Young Do?" One of the Loop's most unexpected staples must fight to maintain its presence.
The bar has always been in a unique locale; what do you think will happen as the new wave of condos goes up around the neighborhood?
Well, gentrification is catching up on the South Side. We've always had people come in from all walks of life and that shouldn't change. We're a downtown bar, and then on the weekends we get a different crowd—some tourists, too. Then at nights we have the concerts; we move all the tables into the liquor store, the band takes up about a quarter of the bar, and the rest of the space is people.
What's the best Chicago-related advice you've ever given or received?
One night, we were pretty much closed; it was the bartenders, our friends, and maybe one or two people we didn't know. One of these guys decides he wants to start trouble, and we eventually kick him out of the bar. He keeps harassing our doorman after that, and eventually the doorman just got fed up, and knocked the guy's glasses to the ground. That only got him even angrier, and eventually I went out and had to go talk to him. And what I told him was: "You don't walk into a bar where you don't know anyone and act like an asshole."
When did you start booking music here?
Probably about 8 years ago. We booked some friends, some of the bartenders had bands, and things took off. Word of mouth has been a huge factor; we'll get a band in from out of state, and then they'll go back and tell five more bands about how they played at this place in Chicago, and the next thing you know I get five more e-mails asking if they can play here. It almost books itself.
What are your plans for the next Cal's Fest?
Well, maybe in August, if we have it; it's iffy right now. The alley, where we always held it, is now off-limits due to the condos. We tried holding it indoors last year and used the liquor store as a lounge, but it's just so crowded. We're hoping to block off the street this year, set up a stage right out front and have a block party. But we have to get the permits from the city first. We're cleaning the windows right now; we want to make sure they don't have anything to gripe about with us. We might even do some redecoration in here. None of that Irish pub BS, but something nice.
What's your favorite Chicago hidden gem?
There's an unmarked place called the Teddy Bear up on (3513 N) Pulaski that I like to go to–no sign, no hours, nothing on the outside. The last time I was in there, I met a guy who knew another bartender friend of mine. And we were talking about him, and he claimed we had started trouble in another bar while he was there, and I told him that my friends don't start trouble. Eventually I decided I'd had enough and started to leave. He said I should say hi to my friend from him, and I asked him who I should say it was from. The guy reached up, pulled out his glass eye, and set it on the counter: "'One-Eye Bill' says hi." What do you say to that?
