Budweiser Bob
You’d probably think we call Budweiser Bob Budweiser Bob because the beer he likes to drink is Budweiser. But you’d be wrong. We call him that because he wouldn’t be caught dead with a Bud even if he were crawling across the Mojave Desert in August, out of water on a 120 degree day. He’s a microbrewer and he sees the big national breweries as bullies who have brainwashed or beerwashed the masses into buying a pale substitute for real malt beverages.
Actually, Bob’s name isn’t Bob either, it’s Ron. Which, at least to me, makes the joke more humorous by a factor of three and a half. Especially when you consider we got Alaska Bob and Guitar Bob and Biker Bob and Indian Bobm plus a few other Bobs we haven’t prefixed with a handle yet. Lots of possibilities. Be Bob a Loo, he’s my baby. Be Bob a Loo I don’t mean maybe.
I know — we ought to quit doing it —-they hate it. Guitar Bob plays guitar, but not very well … so when somebody says oh, you’re Guitar Bob, he knows they think he’s a virtual Eric Clapton. Alaska Bob used to work up on the Slope at Prudeau Bay. He doesn’t anymore so he no doubt figures it’s time to drop the 49th state from his name. Retiree Bob would work, except all the Bobs are retired.
Bob #1? Bob #2? Bob A or Bob B? I couldn’t ask their moms why they couldn’t have been a little more original when they had these guys. Bob!? Jeez. It’s like the people who name their dog Pooch or Mutt. Or their cat Kitty. Nothing wrong with it, I spoze. Other than too damn many Bobs and Toms and Bills. I’m just trying to clarify the classification system, de-obfuscate the taxonomy, bring some modicum of order to the confusion of anarchic appellation. Okay, except for Budweiser Bob…
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