The king of cool...and the king of beers...
Bryce Main
Multi-genre author, mostly Crime fiction. Scottish. Been writing longer than I’ve been wearing big boy’s trousers.
It was Christmas 1969.
I was listening to Carlos Santana.
I'd just had my first taste of Budweiser.
I liked it. A lot.
Not because it was (probably) the most famous American lager on the planet. Although I didn't realise it at the time.
Not because I liked their ads. Because I'd never even seen one.
And not even because I liked the taste. Although I smiled and licked my lips after the first glug.
The reason was simple.
I was 18, a bit of a dick, and a Bud came with a ring pull...a hiss...and a mouthful of froth.
No glass. No bottle. Straight from the can...direct to the lips...over the taste buds...down the neck.
Cool as hell.
The kind of cool that had nothing to do with temperature and everything to do with Steve McQueen.
A man's man. A woman's man. Hell...he was even a damned car, horse, or motorbike's man!
There's a photo of him somewhere sitting on some movie set, relaxing, shirt off, holding a can of Bud. Smiling that smile.
The king of cool drinking the king of beers.
He was the bad guy. The good guy. The tough guy. The soft guy. The guy who did the right thing and kicked the shit out of the wrong thing just for the hell of it.
He was the guy who knew where all the lies and the truths were buried. And he knew who buried them.
But life can bite you in the arse. And there are some truths that should never be uncovered. Some truths that, when dug up, tarnish your beliefs permanently. No matter how shiny they are.
For instance...
For me, one of those truths got uncovered the second the Catholic mass changed from being said in Latin, to being said in English.
Everything got lost in translation. Everything went to hell.
Another was when, after being force-fed a diet of John Wayne when I was young and impressionable, I found out his real name.
Marion Morrison.
Every time I watch his movie She Wore A Yellow Ribbon, my mind substitutes the name Marion Morrison for John Wayne when the titles roll up.
I can't help it. My brain doesn't even ask permission. It just switches things around automatically. I have no say in the matter.
And the worst part of it is...these two fine examples don't even make it into the top ten of "truths that change the way you think about things forever."
But this one does.
I don't remember where, or when, it happened. But happen it bloody well did.
I found out that one of the major ingredients of Budweiser (and lots of beers) is that good old dietary food staple...
RICE!!
In fact Budweiser is the biggest buyer on the American rice market.
Not the barley malt market. Nor the hops market. Nor the yeast market.
The bloody rice market. Dammit!
I wondered if Steve (I felt I got to know him well enough to be on first-name terms)...anyway, I wondered if Steve knew about the rice content of his Buds when he was knocking them back.
And if he did, I wondered if he paused for a few seconds...holding the can an inch or two from his mouth...tantalisingly close...while he thought about it.
And I wondered if he frowned that frown of his. Then smiled that smile of his. Then licked those lips of his.
Before knocking back the contents. Like he didn't give a damn. Which he probably didn't.
But I did.
So I changed to rice-free Guinness.
Sorry Steve...
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The above is an extract from my book Ad Hoc. Like its sister Ad Lib, and its little brother Ad Infinitum (still in the pregnancy stage), it's about creativity, advertising, life, and lots of stuff in between.
You'll find the first two on Amazon, along with my other books, Love & Coffee and Heaven Help Us. In print and ebook. Just waiting for you. Just look here:
Ad Lib: https://amzn.to/2kd4LKf.
Ad Hoc: https://amzn.to/2Nx8GL8
Love & Coffee: https://amzn.to/28IWaHq
Heaven Help Us: https://amzn.to/2nkQ1Jk
Grab a coffee, grab a chair, and grab a sneaky peek.
Then grab a copy...
Manager Graphics Design and Production
4 年Bryce, you had me going there for a while. First I did not know that Budweiser was made with large quantities of rice. Perhaps it’s one of the reasons why I don’t drink it. As a South American Indian, our diet is made up of lots of rice just like our ancestors from India. The last thing I need is more rice in my diet. However, you made me feel proud when you mention the the word Guinness. In fact it’s what we’ll be sipping this evening. Thanks for raising my blood pressure and cooling it down. LoL
Lover of life, language and literature, advises brands on how to win hearts and wallets.
4 年Reminds me of the old saw about it being best not seeing a sausage being made! ??
Data>Information>Insight>Knowledge
4 年Bryce what separates and distinguishes you from the others is self-assurance and belief in yourself. Others are still searching.
I find the words.
4 年I loved this excerpt. And my ‘rice’ moment was learning what Steve McQueen was made of (I’m a huge fan of Ali MacGraw).
Freelance Creative (Conceptual Writer), Author, Thinker of Stuff
4 年I know what you mean - as a kid I used to watch the beer commercials ... foaming, frosty glasses were poured and men ... MANLY men, doing MANLY things, with MANLY tools or vehicles would pour them down their throats in a MANLY way ... then I had my first beer - dear god it was horrible. But in Australia you could not be MANLY if you drank anything else but beer. The beer was chilled to the point that your fillings would fall out if you took a mouthful - sadly those MANLY men were nowhere to be seen at the pub, replaced instead by red-faced yokels with enormous beer guts. Years later, having travelled to civilised countries, I found out why is was served so cold ... most Australia beer tastes like bats piss. It's a cruel world.