Sunday, June 17th, 2012
Last week I noticed at the bottom of “Daddy’s Roughhousing: Good Physically and Psychologically” in the automated portion, You Might Like, was a link to a seemingly random article written by Jenna Bromberg for H&R Block.
It was actually an infographic called “The Anatomy Of A Dad” which contrasts the stereotypical dad of “back then” to today’s modern dad.
What I thought was most interesting was how Dear Old Pops’ favorite drink was a light beer in a can, while The New Dad’s drink of choice was a microbrewed beer; in a bottle, of course.
This is actually something I’ve observed for a while and have been wanting to write about, but feared it would come across as irrelevant to the subject of parenting.
But Jenna Bromberg has helped me legitimize this cultural concept about today’s dad:
Light beer in a can is as outdated as those lame commercials making Dad out to be a bumbling idiot.
So long, Al Bundy and Homer Simpson.
The beer of choice for today’s active and involved dad is most likely to be A) impossible to find in a can, B) heavy and filling, and C) made by a quirky-named company that has been established since I was born in 1981.
(Samuel Adams, America’s largest craft brewery, was only established in 1984.)
Microbreweries, also known as craft breweries, are identified as “small, independent, and traditional.”
Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but at least for myself, I see a co-relation between microbrewed beer and the modern American dad:
I tend to see myself as an underdog (small), confident in my unique identity (independent), and quite nostalgic (traditional).
As a child of The Eighties, I was regularly told that I could do anything if I believed in myself, put my mind to it, and just said no to drugs. Now as an adult, I’m dealing with the repercussions of that over-inflated truth/false hope.
Sure, we’re all special. But that’s the problem; we’re all special.
So it totally makes sense that us Generation Y and latter Generation X dads don’t mind being perceived as different, open-minded, and maybe even a little bit weird; in a good way.
I just want to be a good dad.
Even if I’m simply a fleshed-out part of a well-marketed demographic, I am that modern American dad who regularly compares notes of the most recent unheard-of brand of microbrewed beer that happened to be on sale at Kroger this week.
It’s a mindset against drunkenness and irresponsibility and the need to escape from our fatherly duties; as I feel light beer in a can is often associated with.
Instead, it’s an appreciation for the finer things in life. It’s like being a responsible beer connoisseur makes you part of this cool club of relevant dads.
Maybe after a lifetime of exposure to the opening credits of Cheers, I want to be like those sophisticated, mustachioed gentlemen who lived before my grandparents were even born.
I suddenly feel the need to grow an ironic mustache.