When my son was small it never occurred to me that going somewhere to drink beer could be a family outing or could be kid friendly.
I never said, for example: “C'mon Luke, let's get you in the carseat! Daddy's gonna go pound down some beers!”
Don't get me wrong. The rise of craft breweries certainly has been a boon for Western Civilization. We've come a long way since Anheuser-Busch Inbev and MillerCoors controlled roughly 90 percent of the beer market in the United States, according to a 2012 story in the Harvard Business Review.
Which is a publication I read often. Well, once. The first two paragraphs. For this story.
Now, it seems, the new phase in micro-breweries is “family friendly.”
It used to be I'd go to a bar on a Thursday night and see softball teams in uniform hoisting pitchers of Old Style.
Now I see families seated at park benches in a beer garden drinking IPAs and hard seltzers in delicately curved little glasses.
There are dogs nearby, too. They are playful and don't appear rabid.
And baby strollers and high-end bicycles.
A bucolic scene: mom and dad drink as kids play corn hole
Children frolic at nearby swing sets. Coloring books are available.
Kids play corn hole as mom and dad drink. Some of the kids actually play corn hole. Others just jump on the boards, trying to smash them.
Will we soon have “family friendly” toys for the kids who get bored with corn hole? Like little Fisher-Price fermentation tanks?
Will it become difficult to distinguish a craft brewery from a Montessori school?
The marketing apparently is working. Parents drinking alcohol has become family time. The message seems to be:
Bring your dogs! Bring your board games! Bring your kids!
“I'll have an American Brown Ale in the smallest glass you have; the wife wants a Brewery Dream Cream; and the Little Guy will have a coloring book and, please (as I belch), check his diaper.”
Of course, we knew where the arc of this tale would land.
I recently read a story in the News-Leader where some brewery owners are finding out — surprise! — that not all parents keep track of what their children do at the brewery.
And since not all children are reading at grade level — especially since COVID — they don't understand words like “keep out.”
The little darlings are rambling through restricted areas, tromping through prized landscaping or assaulting each other with pieces of corn-hole board.
How long before they start slipping boogers into the wort?
I regret missing all that family time I could have had while I drank beer
If I were a young parent, I can see where I just might succumb to this kid-friendly beer-drinking lifestyle, too.
Looking back, in my 30s I certainly could have played a lot more pool and drank a lot more beer after work on Fridays if I knew there was someone at the tavern who could read Dr. Seuss to my son, maybe in French. Play catch with him. Teach him the violin. Show him how to tie sailors' knots.
But no. I was deprived and so was Luke. I regret we missed all that family time we could have had while I drank beer.
Sure, in my own defense, I made it to all his baseball games and school events.
But I could have done so much more. I could have, for example, taken him with me to Bill's Tap. My eyes moisten at the thought of him learning to count by tracking my beers.
Why wasn't someone smart enough back then to market the message that family time can also be beer-drinking time?
This is Pokin Around column No. 114.
