"Believe me, if a gay man went in on a Tuesday, they would say 'No, your night is Sunday,' " Brehm said. Until then, some straight bars reserved one night a week to serve gay customers. Around the same time, Wisconsin's gay rights act passed, and bar life "was completely different. There were signs of the evolution then, said Brehm, who calls the '80s "an awakening of the gay community," which was both blindsided and unified by the AIDS crisis. That's the most obvious change in the bar that still boasts a pay phone and an eclectic collection of show tunes on the jukebox.īrehm took over the bar after his mother's stroke in 1981. These days, the faces of the bar's patrons splash across the flat-screen television in a revolving loop. From there they could see who might come in the front door and make a hasty retreat if necessary. But not all patrons were out to the public, so regulars sipped cocktails at the back door. "Right away, a lot of gay men started coming in," Brehm said. Joe Brehm's mother opened it in 1968 aiming for a specific clientele. that This Is It is one of the longest-standing gay bars in the city. But enough people have found their way into 418 E. You have to know the cocktail lounge is there, tucked between Louise's Trattoria and an alley.
There is no sign at the door for This Is It.
"I go there more than I go to the gay bars now," Manning said. Nervous at first, the 27-year-old window washer from Milwaukee wears the title like a badge of honor. "They call me the 'gay guy,' " Manning said. But if he wants to play darts and have a beer with family, he goes to Marx Pioneer Inn in Muskego where he has a nickname that, it turns out, was given with affection. He and his friends used to visit La Cage so often they once rented a house only a few blocks away. Ryan Manning is treasurer of a gay dart league. He's just as likely to hang out with friends at a straight bar. His pal, Tyler Stanley, 22, said he doesn't wrap up "in a rainbow flag" to make his night life choices. Xavier Matthews puts the east side's Hotel Foster and the Nomad World Pub on his list of preferred bars to frequent with his boyfriend. Many gay baby boomers are aging out of the late nights of drinking and dancing, and Generation Y, Takach said, doesn't feel the need to protect or hide who they are in a gay bar. Gay bars once banked on the gay community for business, but their constituencies have "reached an expiration date," said Michail Takach, public relations director for PrideFest. Milwaukee's bar scene might not be as tolerant or as comfortable for the LGBT community as, say, San Francisco, but "Wisconsin in general is a pretty tolerant state," Krause said. "In the gay world, I think it was starting to go away a while ago." Burleigh St., in Riverwest, said he thought "there were enough gay bars" in Milwaukee. When Don Krause, who is gay, wanted to open a bar eight years ago, he said, "the plan from the beginning was to capture the gay audience as well as the typical straight bar audience." That mainstreaming is reflected in local night life. Last month President Barack Obama gave his support to gay marriage. PrideFest marks its 25th anniversary this weekend. Thirty years ago, Wisconsin became the first state to outlaw discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation. Mainstreamed nightlifeįor the gay community, it's been a slow and steady march into the mainstream. The scene is changing in other ways, too. The only vestige of dance spot Club 219 is the name on the awnings still attached to the building's façade. The 35-year-old Boot Camp burned down, and C'est La Vie, once a landing place for those who wanted to see drag shows or stripper revues, is now Zak's Café. The owner of the Triangle died last year, and the bar closed recently. Another Walker's Point building that houses the Ball Game sports a for-sale sign. The three-floor nightclub La Cage in Walker's Point narrowly avoided foreclosure a few weeks ago. Many of Milwaukee's longtime gay bars have closed or are struggling to stay in business.
Gay bars that once had an automatic audience must now compete for customers. Younger gay people who've come of age in a more enlightened time often feel comfortable going to what are considered "straight" bars. Gay bars no longer have to serve as fortresses for men and women concerned about taking their private lives public. That was the bloodline of the community."Ī generation later, things have changed. Gay bars, he said, were "our community center, our meet and greet, our place for organizing. Gunkel, the current president of PrideFest, came out when he was 19 years old. He might get "hassled." Certainly, his presence would provoke. When he was young, Scott Gunkel, 52, rarely thought about going to straight bars.