Sale’s OK, but Bud must stay my Bud
By: DONAVON CAMPBELL
I was lucky enough to do some backpacking around Europe in 2004 shortly after I graduated from Ohio State.
I wanted to see culture, I wanted architecture and fine art, monuments, churches and the history that envelopes them all; I wanted to experience another lifestyle.
I also, like most Midwestern boys in their early 20s, wanted to drink lots and lots of beer.
So, not long after my arrival in London, I found my way to a pub where I proceeded to share my distinctly American point of view, as well as a number of pints, with a group of fun-loving Aussies and Brits that happened to be staying in the same hostel.
It was not my first time in a drinking establishment and, even though I’d been surviving on meager wages while in school, I’d still managed to consume my fair share of Budweiser, Bud Light, Coors, Miller Lite and a number of other cheaper, domestic brews.
In short, I wanted something different.
Immediately my new found friends pointed me in the direction of Stella Artois, a cheap Belgian beer (at least across the pond) with good taste and of a high quality.
I liked the stuff, and while drinking it I got a kick out of what I perceived as the “Heineken crowd” — namely, sharp-dressed 20-somethings with loosened neckties who love they way that cold, green bottle advertises to the opposite sex, ‘I have money to spend and I don’t drink too heavily’ — bellying up to the bar to order … a Bud.
It seemed to have the same effect; sharp shoes, sharp tie and that dew-beaded, all-American bottle seemed to display quite the ‘I only drink imports’ vibe.
Let me backtrack a second by saying I too like Heineken and, when I can, I also enjoy a nice imported libation.
The point is, when I saw not long ago that Anheuser-Busch was being sold for $52 billion to Belgian-based brewing company InBev, I wasn’t quite sure how to feel.
I like Stella Artois, one of the headlining beers produced by InBev, so I didn’t feel any animosity towards the company, yet I have to admit I like the idea of the “great American lager.”
I mean, “This Bud’s for you,” right? Doesn’t the “King of Beers” just ooze with blue collar royalty? The stuff originated from St. Louis, saturates Super Bowls and sports a red, white and blue label! Its huge brewery in Columbus is turning 40 this year.
Still, is one beer company that different from another? In today’s world of technology, high speed travel and international marketing isn’t it only a matter of time?
Budweiser is already across the pond, and many points further, and imports are popular in the states as well. While I’d like to see an American company maintain American employees and, culturally, its American identity, isn’t it doing just that by selling out?
America is capitalism, and $52 billion is a whole lot of capital.
So far, signs point to InBev keeping the internal infrastructure of Anheuser-Busch the same. And let’s not be naive enough to think that Anheuser-Busch doesn’t have its own fare share of international assets.
Business is business, and I’m fine with that.
What worries me is; beer is not beer is not beer.
Micro-breweries have grown more popular as the “big boys” continue to saturate and, to some extent, homogenize the marketplace.
Variety is the spice of life and the most unique spices often come from regions and countries with a specific set of topographies, climates and soils. These circumstances create local ingenuity and local ingenuity creates local fare and local fare plays a large part in forming local culture and different cultures create variety and variety is what makes the chicken wings of life spicy.
See what I’m saying?
Let these companies make their money — what is too much money is a whole other column — but don’t take over and change too much.
It was truly a blast to observe the cultural flip-flop I witnessed while in that pub in London.
Let “This Bud’s for you” mean “This Bud’s for everybody,” but just make sure that a Bud is a Bud is a Bud.
(this column first appeared in the July 28, 2008 issues of Suburban Newspapers)
