From Marc Pelletier

I guess we got to know each other in 9th grade, as my memory of Willie before then is, well, non-existent. But I’m older than him by three days so I’ll just attribute that to my fading memory.

We sat together in the 9th grade band in 1973. Geeky clarinet players both, but in terms of true geekiness I had him beat by a mile; Coke-bottle glasses, clothes out of the ‘50’s, etc. At the mere mention of the word ‘Girl’ I would turn beet red. I embodied the definition of ‘Nerd’.

I can’t remember exactly when or how we officially met, or any meaningful conversations we may have had at 13 years of age. I think we had some classes together that year? For the life of me, I’ve forgotten most of my first two years in High School (‘geek-trauma’, no doubt). But we found friendship and liked each other pretty much from the start I think.

What I DO remember is…Bud.

The 9th grade band was where Willie was supposed to be. But not me--I was the better clarinetist. First chair all year (no, I DIDN’T date in High School thank you very much) and could sight read anything Mr. Kenney put in front of us. I had been mis-scheduled and had to sit through a year of remedial band. Willie got me through it. The word funny did/does not begin to describe Willie. We laughed and cut up every day. Looking back on it now just makes me giggle.

It all started when Willie fell in love with a jingle. Admittedly, it was an extremely catchy jingle, so much so that I can still recite the song today:

When you say Bud
You say a lot of things nobody else can say.
When you say Bud,
You say you care enough to only drink the King of Beers!
There is no other one.
There’s only something else.
Because the King of Beers
Is leading all the rest.
When you say BuddddWeiser,
You’ve said it all!

I can see now why this tune had such an effect on him. I mean, it was straight out of Madison Avenue. Hell, this musical event may have shaped his entire future. EVERYONE knew that song, but Willie wanted to--no, needed to--learn to play it. So he wrote to Anheuser-Busch.

I like to think that went down something like this:

Picture a young corporate executive at his desk in St. Louis. The beer business is booming. A-B has a 40% national market share and he has the CEO’s ear. His assistant brings him his mail and he unfolds a letter (neatly printed, because Willie has always been perfect) and begins to read.

To whom it may concern:
I really like your song and would really like to play it on my Clarinet. Can you send me the sheet music? By the way, the Clarinet is tuned to the key of b flat (the proper key would be helpful). I’ve enclosed a self addressed stamped envelope for your convenience.

Thank you for your time; I look forward to your prompt reply,

William Baronet
Lafayette Louisiana
Age 13

Well, a few weeks later Willie got his sheet music. And it was a very straightforward melody (you’re all humming it now, aren’t you?) with a killer bass line; perfect for a duet. So Willie and I practiced it; got pretty good at it, actually. Okay, we owned it.

But that wasn’t enough for Willie, being the born performer that he is. So one day in 1973 we (he) asked the Band Director (actually I think we got the Student Teacher in remedial band) if we could perform it for the class. And Willie and I (up to that time, a clarinetist of some reputation), in 1973/74 and probably all of 14 years old by that time, took the stage in the Lafayette High School auditorium and played our duet to our assembled band mates.

Today, I wonder if anyone that was there remembers our performance? And I wonder if our band director thought it humorous that two decidedly under-aged band geeks were promoting alcohol consumption? And I wonder if the young exec at A-B is still alive, and if he tells the story of how he single-handedly insured the growth of an entire industry? Hell, now that we’re 50, I wonder if either of us remembers which one of us played the killer bass line.

So after thirty-five-plus years we arrive at 50, three days apart. Our divergent paths have kept us going in different directions for many years, but we’ve found new ways to keep in touch. And though I missed the deadline (some things never change) for your Birthday blog, I wanted to let you know, Willie, that I smile every time I think of you, and I think of you every time I hear that melody.

As the song says, “When you say Bud, you’ve said a lot of things nobody else can say”. So true.

Love you, Bud…