88Not counting the bartender -- who turned out to be Mean Gene himself -- there were only two people in the place. Forcand sat down, introduced himself and told all assembled that he collected tap handles. (Note to teetotalers: a tap handle, also called a tap knob, is a valve used to control the release of beer from a cask or keg.)
Mean Gene mentioned to Forcand that he might have a few old handles in his office and away he went. He returned five minutes later with a pair: One -- an acrylic handle advertising Coors Extra Gold Light beer -- caught Forcand's eye. "I asked him how much he wanted for it and he said, '20 dollars.' I was, like, 'Wow,' because normally I don't pay more than a couple of bucks."
These days, Forcand concentrates on sports-themed handles.
Glancing at the men seated next to him, Forcand offered a compromise. He would buy a round for the house in exchange for the Coors handle. (One guess how Forcand's bar mates voted.)
"I ended up staying for a couple of drinks and when I got back to my car, I had a new handle for my collection."
Next weekend, Forcand will display a selection of tap handles from his 650-plus collection at the Great White North Breweriana Club's beer collectibles trade show. This year's event -- the 20th annual -- is being held Oct. 10 and 11 at the Assiniboine Hotel, 1975 Portage Ave. There is no admission charge and everybody is welcome.
Forcand bought his first tap handle more than 20 years ago during a skiing holiday in Montana. He already had a modest beer-sign collection going when he spotted a Grain Belt Premium handle on sale for $4 at a thrift shop in Bozeman. "After that first purchase, the collection increased pretty quickly," Forcand says. "When I got back to Winnipeg, I went to an antique show in a mall where a dealer had a dozen for sale and I bought them all."
Then came the motherlode. While on a sales trip to Duluth, Minn. (yep -- this guy gets around), Forcand chanced upon a business card that read, "Wanted: Tap Handles." It turned out that the collector in question lived in Minneapolis. Coincidentally, Minneapolis was Forcand's next stop.
"I remember to this day going to his house, knocking on the door and telling the lady who answered how I got her husband's card," Forcand says. "He was out walking the dog but when he came home, he led me to his basement, which had, I'm guessing, two or three thousand handles."
The fellow, Milo Wesling, brought out a slew of boxes from a back storeroom. Over the course of the afternoon, Wesling opened box after box, pausing every few minutes to place another handle on an ever-growing pile.
"Finally, when he was done, he turned to me and said, 'Here -- these are for you,'" Forcand says, noting there were 57 handles in all. "I asked him how much he wanted, and he said, 'Nothing. If you ever get any Canadian doubles, keep me in mind.'"
Initially, Forcand (fave beer: Two Rivers Red) collected anything and everything. Today, the father of two concentrates primarily on sports-related levers, like his Michelob model shaped like a golf club head, a set of Labatt's Blue handles made to look like hockey sticks and a Miller Genuine Draft handle, fashioned after an Indy race car.
Although vintage handles -- particularly British ones -- can date back hundreds of years and command thousands of dollars on eBay, money isn't the driving force behind Forcand's hobby.
"It's true some have a certain value, but to me, it's always been more the story of how I obtained each one," he says. Like his Bushwacker Pale Ale handle. It was given to him by someone who worked in the lounge on board the HMS Regina, Bushwacker being the beer on tap when the Canadian frigate served in the Persian Gulf.
Finally, Forcand has an answer to the inevitable question: What will happen to all of those tap handles at last call? That is, when he heads to that big saloon in the sky?
"Well, I've actually considered having a boxful at my funeral so that everybody can reach in and take one," he says. "All I'll ask is that from then on, every time you see a tap handle in a pub or bar, you'll try and think of me." (Sniff, sniff.)
If you'd like to share the story of your collection with our readers -- anything from soup to lug nuts -- please contact David Sanderson at david.sanderson@freepress.mb.ca.
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