Genesee of Rochester, N.Y., whined, "We just hope the next time the president has a beer, he chooses an American beer, made by American workers and an American-owned brewery like Genesee."
Ho-hum . . . Didn't most of us reject these "Buy American" platitudes 20 years ago when Japan began to squeeze Detroit?
Back then, owning a Honda was considered an act of treason - even if it had been assembled by American workers in Marysville, Ohio. We should have learned that, in a global economy, the genealogy of consumer products is far too complex to sort out with jingoistic talking points.
The provenance of your favorite beer is every bit as thorny.
Bud Light is produced in 12 towns across the country. American workers brew it, package it and deliver it to your local store. Sounds American to me.
However, its parent company, Anheuser-Busch InBev, is headquartered in Leuven, Belgium, and its finances are largely controlled by Brazilian bankers.
Does that make Bud (not to mention Michelob, Rolling Rock, Natty Light and the rest of the conglomerate's portfolio) foreign? If yes, what about those handmade craft beers from the Kona, Fordham, Widmer, Red Hook, Goose Island and Old Dominion breweries? Anheuser-Busch has a piece of them all.
So, what's a real, 100 percent American brewery?
Not No. 2 Miller (maker of Miller Lite, Milwaukee's Best and Olde English 800, among others). It's a subsidiary of SABMiller, founded in South Africa and headquartered in London.
Nor No. 3 Coors (maker of Coors Light, Blue Moon, Keystone and more). It's a subsidiary of Molson Coors, headquartered in Canada and Denver.
After them, the line between American and non-American is no clearer.
