In the last couple of years, Billy has become America's favourite pitchman. Through the medium of TV his voice has permeated living rooms across not only the US and Canada, but also here in the UK. He's become a star. But to his friends, and he has lots of them, Billy's always been a star.I met Billy on the show circuit about twenty years ago. He got the nickname 'Bucket' because he was always hauling pails of water around for the Washmatik, an English invention. That's him with Robin, who came over to the States from the UK to teach everyone the pitch.
Working shows is fun but it's also a lot of work and there's always something either going wrong, or missing. You could ask Billy for help any time and he'd never make you feel bad about it. He was there for his buddies. He'd have a twinkle in his eye, even at the end of those sweat-soaked 12 hour days on the fairgrounds, when the thermometer never went below 80.
The photo at the top of this post was taken at the Big E in Springfield, Mass. I forget which year. When he was working, you could hear Billy all over the building. And when it was quiet, he'd sometimes do his flying turtle impression. He'd fling himself across the 'guzunder' box and, with the mike almost in his mouth, make a noise like a mad motorbike while waving his arms about. It was hysterical. Drove the humourless old witch who ran the building absolutely mad. And watching her, watching him,was pretty funny, too.
In that first photo he's pitching the salsa maker. What do you think he's saying to that couple in the front? Maybe the guy doesn't want to spring. I bet Billy's telling the wife: 'Listen honey, if he says No to you now, you say No to him later- he'll be back tomorrow to get one', or some cheeky comment; you never knew what was coming next.
Billy was an incredibly generous guy. When he moved to Clearwater, he rented a big house with 5 or 6 bedrooms, right by the beach. There was an open invitation for friends to come and stay; he liked to share the good things in his life. We called it 'the Mays Inn'. There was always beer in the fridge and pizza for dinner. The only house rule was- you couldn't touch the TV remote. Billy loved to watch sport on his massive TV and nothing was allowed to interfere with that.
He really lived life to the max. It was great to see his success on TV. And I don't know a single person who begrudged him it. It was magic to switch on the set and see Billy, carrying on about some new gadget or cleaner. You know the phrase 'Larger than life'? Well, that was Billy Mays.
I haven't seen Billy for a few years and was surprised at how hard his passing has hit me. But just because you haven't seen someone in a while doesn't mean you stop caring about them. You might not see some of your friends on the show circuit for quite a while, months, years even- it's transient work which takes everyone in different directions; but the joy of meeting up again never diminishes. And it was always a pleasure to find Billy Mays at the set-up of another show.I've written this post because I can't to make it to Bill's funeral. So this is my way of saying 'good-bye' to a great guy and a good friend. I know I won't be the only one who can't get there, so if you're reading this and you'd like to leave a comment, especially if you knew Billy, I'll make sure his family get to see whatever you write. Thanks.
Billy Carroll (in the photo above, also taken at the Big E) very kindly sent me some photos and while I try to make everything on this blog my own work, I've used two of them here, the one with the Washmatik and Bill resting. Many Thanks, BC.
