Bud

A simple, clear message.

Our boy owns some Anheuser-Busch stock in his savings account, meaning that we get the annual report. Winston passes it to me as, at age 6, he has some difficulty getting though the words. Anyway, I’m trying to teach him to think like a stockholder – an owner – of a great American business, so hopefully he will be able to crack the balance sheet before much longer.

Budweiser, that most quaffed and most derided of mass American products, is actually an extremely fine lager, brewed in the best German tradition. You thought Busch was an American name?

Nothing is more amusing than pouring a glass for a visitor, assuring him that this is one of the rarest, finest handmade brews on the central California coast, and being rewarded with long analyses with perorations that any marketer would die for.

Well, yes, the boob is, of course, drinking a Budweiser. Welcome to the world of Label Drinkers.

These were some of the thoughts crossing my mind on a lazy Sunday afternoon as I worked my way through a few annual reports. For the life of me I cannot remember any cover until I came to the BUD tome. The message could scare be clearer.

Simple and elegant, yes.

But it’s much more than that. It is nothing more than a politically incorrect display of a corporation’s pride in the dominant American beer. We make beer and are proud of it.

It probably doesn’t hurt that the CEO is one August A. Busch IV. The apple does not fall far from the tree. And let’s give Bubba this one. He knows a good beer when he sees it. And the price is right.

Well done, Budweiser, on a simple, direct, courageous and proud use of photography.

Disclosure: A can of Budweiser was involved in the writing of this column.