'Funnest city' will be agrog - er, agog - when GOP rolls in

The politicians in Minnesota can't agree on what to do about crumbling highways, health care, taxes, education or Como Zoo. But they can come together, leave the bickering behind and act in the interest of all of us when the chips are down.

Last week, in an increasingly rare display of that old Minnesota Nice, a legislative committee voted unanimously to let bars stay open until 4 a.m. from Aug. 31 through Sept. 4, for the Republican National Convention if a city approves.

I'll drink to that.

Bartender! Set 'em up! When John McCain takes the baton from George W. Bush, our heroes are making it possible to drink the night away, which some of us were planning to do anyway. After all, we are the "funnest" city in America.

Take it from Mayor Raymond (Goodtimes) Rybak.

Keeping the liquor flowing until cockcrow will show the nation that "We are a fun city, the funnest in the country and a 24-hour city," said Jeremy Hanson, spokesman for Minneapolis' No. 1 fun lover.

What is Hanson drinking?

Nor did I know we were running for Funnest City. But I like it: The Twin Cities: What happens here, stays here. Except that kind of stuff, Sen. Craig.

But it turns out that we may already be the funnest -- if you mean drunkest.

Forbes magazine ranked the Twin Cities No. 2 on a list of America's Drunkest Cities in 2006 (trailing Milwaukee by a snifter of brandy). Basing the rankings on the number of adult drinkers, binge drinkers and heavy drinkers, we were far ahead of Las Vegas (No. 14) and New Orleans (No. 24).

All they have is gambling, Mardi Gras, Wayne Newton, jambalaya and nonstop entertainment. We have, um, ice fishing and snowshoe grog.

The bad part about keeping our watering holes open until the milkman comes is that it is raising tensions between St. Paul and Minneapolis.

After dark, St. Paul hums with drinking Democrats but is not a good place for Republican bankers or Uptown hipsters to wander into a bar, on Payne Avenue, say, and ask for a Cosmopolitan or a pink peppermint stick apple-tini.

If it doesn't have a head on it, you are barking up the wrong town tavern. And don't forget your whiskey chaser.

The aversion of Twin Cities residents to staying out too late in the "other" city is deeply ingrained. My St. Paul relatives would not visit me, when I lived in Minneapolis, unless I swore to get them home before dark. If I didn't, they would sleep on my sofa and wait for sunup. With a 4 a.m. closing, they could drink the dark away and come over for breakfast. Except now I live in St. Paul, too. I rarely drink if I can't walk home.

The lure of neighborhood bars

That's the beauty of St. Paul, Catholic and German and Irish: It has neighborhood bars. Minneapolis, which suffered through a temperance movement, restricted its bars to a "liquor patrol" area until recent years, to keep sin at bay. St. Paul, a more humane European city, is comfortable with human failing.

By the way, if you aren't going to close until 4, why bother to close at all? Hand the customer mops and let them clean up a bit before carrying on some more. The regular drinkers will be coming in shortly.

My guess is that most GOP delegates will get their refreshment from a hotel room mini-bar or at a reception. That will leave the late bar hours to more disreputable types -- the media, insomniacs and St. Paul Democrats who will come to Minneapolis to see a bar that has unisex bathrooms without actually having to fight the opposite sex for the porcelain.

So, a toast to the Grand Old Party and Minneapolis-St. Paul, the most exciting metro this side of Milwaukee! Our bars will be open until 4 a.m.!

For five nights!

Ain't we got fun.