The Sneaky Art of Selling Beer

Dad’s retirement cake, “America’s Classic Premium Beer Salesman”. Fudgy Chocolate recipe, found in my 1978 book, CREATIVE CAKES, by Stephanie Crookston.

My dad, Leny Thelen, enjoyed his life of selling beer very much. He retired in 1994, at age 62. I wonder if the heavy lifting of kegs and other duties came to be too much. He loved the social part, cracking a smile often, as he interacted with the bar owners on his route, and later, as he told us the stories.

He was a farmer, near Breda, Iowa, when the lure of a job in Carroll appeared. Farner-Bocken thought he would make an excellent beer salesman. The brand was Hamm’s, and only Hamm’s. No other brand was allowed to be brought into our house, or even spoken of. That loyalty and focus won him success.

My brother, Ed, remembers him saying, “There are only 2 beers: Hamm’s and Root Beer.”

Ed, getting to go to work at the Farner-Bocken warehouse.
My brothers, from left, Ed and Marty, wearing their own Hamm’s uniform shirts, made by Mom.

Of course, later on, beers such as Pabst Blue Ribbon and Millers Brewing Co. became part of Farner-Bocken’s sales offerings.

Undated photo. Early time of selling beer. Why the Falstaff? A joke, maybe?

A photo from early in his career, mid 1960’s I’d guess. When I look at this photo, I see a happy man. I also see the missing tooth that embarassed him (it was shot out from a BB gun fired by his older brother, Merlin, in childhood). I see the nametag, which appears to have Lenie Thelen embroidered on it, not Leny, as he went by later.

And, I see the strong hands (some would say chubby, ha ha) that took care of things, and us.

And what is this?! Clear as day, a Falstaff glass. When I showed this to my husband, Dan, he had an explanation. He knew from “egg runs” (drives to the country for fresh eggs, and a few stops along the way), that Dad liked to drink beer out of a glass, especially a Pilsner glass, pouring it from the bottle. (I didn’t know that. How genteel, haha). He thinks maybe it was the only glass that Whip had.

Just for fun, I googled Whip’s Place. It was a small local cafe and bar in Ricketts, IA (Crawford County), during the mid-20th Century, operated by Laura and “Whip” Langholdt.

This summer, I heard a story from my sister, Karen, that made us laugh! She and her husband, Jim, are active in the Merchants Baseball world in Carroll, IA, and even host ball players for the summer.

She found out that another baseball family host, Tom Goetzinger, (“Goldie”), had worked with Dad. Goldie said that Dad went into Don’s Place in Carroll to get Don (Gute) to order some of the new Miller Lite.

Don said, no, his patrons would never go for it. This was around 1975.

Vintage Miller Lite, found online.

According to my research, Miller Lite premiered nationally in 1975. It was viewed as a women’s “diet” drink. In order for it to be a winner in the marketplace, that idea had to be eliminated. Women drank less beer. To boost sales, the campaign aimed at working class men and sports loving men.

Its tagline of “Tastes Great, Less Filling” would help customers see its value. Celebrity endorsements also made it popular (think Rodney Dangerfield’s hilarious ads).

When Don said, “No” to Lite beer, Dad had an idea. He went back to the warehouse and talked to the men there. He knew they all went out for a beer after work. He asked them to go to Don’s Place, and each order a Miller Lite.

When the time came, Dad was sitting at the bar. They all came in and sat at the round table. One by one, they ordered Miller Lite. Don just looked at Dad and shook his head. I’m sure a few choice words and laughter occurred!

He ended up ordering 5 cases to give it a go. So, with a little help from Dad, the launch was on!

Mid 1970’s delivery truck, found online.
Dad, after retirement (1994). Photo dated by my brother, Tony, who noticed the watch, and the suspenders.
Our family party tray, purchased in 2010, at an Okoboji antique store.

Now, go have a cold one, a Miller Lite, of course!

Shirley

The Day I Met the Meter Man

It was the summer of 1969; senior year of high school was ahead of me. I had a full time job taking care of two children at their house, while their mother worked at J.C.Penney’s. She picked me up and took me home, before and after work. The days were long, but basically I enjoyed them.

Sometimes, I washed my hair there and put in rollers (hair curlers). It was all part of good grooming in those days, and something I did on this day.

Maybe the curlers were this attractive style, or maybe the fetching-in-pink kind below.

As my two little charges and I were having lunch, I was startled to hear a male voice yell out, ”Meter Man!”. Whoever he was walked in the back door and went right to the basement.

Not my meter man, a stand-in.

I immediately followed this scary-charming voice, and was surprised to see that it was a classmate who I knew but had not really talked to that much.

He broke all city rules that day by taking a break, and sitting at the kitchen table to chat with me for a while. Remember, I was in hair rollers, so I was quite embarrassed. Still, we laughed and talked easily for awhile, then went on with our jobs and our day.

I liked him! I’ve liked him for over 52 years now, married for 49 of those years. Yes, the meter man was Dan. We often laugh about how the words from that day were all it took to set up a lifetime together, even with hair rollers involved.

We’re still talking around a kitchen table, and I hope you are too, with the meaningful people in your lives!

Shirley

On Cleaning Up After Christmas Dinner

Traditionally, the most important time for family gatherings in the Neary household is on Christmas Eve, not on Christmas Day. This was begun by Dan’s father, Ray, while Dan was growing up. In our house, family arrives anytime after noon, and we have a casual lunch buffet, with Dan doing most of the preparation. The…

On Lit Up Interiors

This marvelous storefront photo is just the kind of thing I was thinking about, back on May 22, 2011, when I wrote this: There is a phenomonon of warmth and comfort that arises whenever I see lit up interiors viewed from the outside. The effect is even more inviting on a rainy, foggy, or snowy…