No time to bleed
Summit Brewing filled 19 million bottles last year, said CEO Mark Stutrud. That’s a lot of beer — and a lot of pain. Summit’s bottle caps are notoriously hard to twist off (some people think they might not even be twist-offs). Stutrud said the St. Paul beer giant feels your pain and has decided to switch to caps that require the traditional bottle opener. Most Summit drinkers fall into a couple of categories, he said: “You’ve got the masochists who enjoy the crown bite, and then there’s another group that is very proud of the calluses they’ve developed over the past 24 years.” Ouch. The brewery will begin rolling out the new pry-off caps within the next month. So there’s still a little bit of time to enjoy the pain.
TOM HORGEN
He loves Mpls.
Before he was an Oscar-winning songwriter and movie scorer, Randy Newman occasionally brought his black-humor pop songs to the old Guthrie Theater on Vineland Place. The piano man recalls playing there in the 1970s with Jim Croce and with Bonnie Raitt. “I remember it being the first place I played that was sort of in the round,” Newman, who performs at the new Guthrie Monday, told I.W. “I remember the color of the seats. I don’t remember five places I’ve played, really. That one I remember very well.”
JON BREAM
Tut’s undies uncovered
What with ostrich-feather fans, golden sandals and a fully equipped chariot, King Tut was pretty well decked out when he checked into the next world. But did you know that his tomb was stocked with 20 gloves and underwear for the afterlife, too? True fact, according to David Silverman, a University of Pennsylvania Egyptologist and curator of the “Tutankhamun” show at the Science Museum in St. Paul. And what type of underwear did Tut wear? “Linen,” said Silverman, who played straight man to Stephen Colbert on Comedy Central’s “Colbert Report” earlier this winter.
MARY ABBE
Lemmy hear ya
“Are you all right? Well, we’ll fix that.” That’s how Motörhead‘s Lemmy Kilmister greeted the sold-out crowd Tuesday at First Avenue, and it wasn’t just cocky rock talk. Even for those of us wearing earplugs, the show resulted in a steady ringing. Plenty of fans went home with worse damage, too, be it from headbanging whiplash or alcohol ( the total booze sales during Motörhead must equal five or six nights of wimpy indie-rock shows). Things also got a little dangerous when some idiot threw a drink onstage near the start of the set. “In Mötorhead, we don’t throw glasses of beer onstage because we finish them before we get onstage,” Lemmy said, then made some indecipherable but clearly threatening comment to the guy. Suffice it to say, no more cups were thrown.
CHRIS RIEMENSCHNEIDER