The Day of the Half Beer
Beer has a strange place in our culture. Admittedly, beer commercials are often the most imaginative and creative. As a society, we are bombarded with images of beer logos at our sporting events and concerts. Craft brewers are running out of cutesy names for their concoctions and most have at least seven syllables. Names like Pabst, Bud, Miller, Coors, and Schlitz have given way to Big Fat Tire Swing Summer Shandy. Whatever.
By the time my son hit high school, I wonder how beer commercials he’d seen. How many times had a beer logo flashed in his brain? Lord only knows. But make no mistake, brewers target young men with ads that make drinking beer look both cool, and sexy. As a father, that always concerned me. Although I was definitely exposed to the beer culture in my youth as well, it was nowhere near as pervasive.
There are two beer commercials ingrained in my mind from my younger days. In the first, Kool and the Gang sang about Schlitz Malt Liquor. That sounds awesome, but when the “Schlitz Malt Liquor Bull” crashes through the wall of the bar sending people fleeing for their lives, cool turns to terrifying. The other is Bob Uecker selling Miller Lite from the cheap seats. Hearing Bob yell, “He missed the tag,” or telling us Miller Lite “tastes great and is less filling” never made me want to hang out with Bob at the ballpark and tilt a few.
My son, Will, and I are huge Texas Rangers fans. I am quite proud that I raised him as one. I can say without hesitation that the ballpark memories we’ve shared over the years have been priceless. And although we’ve seen Neftali Feliz strike out A-Rod to win the team’s first pennant and Rougned Odor rearrange Jose Bautista’s facial features live and in person, one of our most lasting ballpark memories involves the collision of a young man’s exposure to America’s beer culture and a father trying to shelter him from it.
Once, through a series of fortunate events, a buddy of mine was able to score us Rangers tickets and the use of an outfield suite. We were super pumped! Upon arrival, we discovered not only that the suite was enormous, but that we had it entirely to ourselves! My son invited his best friend, Spencer, and none of us could believe our good fortune. The suite was stocked with hot dogs, nachos, peanuts, chips, soft drinks...and, of course, beer. I cracked one open immediately.
It wasn’t long before these two high school senoirs asked me if they could have a beer. “Out of the question!” I replied. I knew that both of these kids had drunk a beer or two prior to this moment, but somehow giving my blessing to beer drinking in my presence seemed, well, wrong. Will and Spencer were quite persistent. Eventually, after much the debate, I relented, but just a little. I told them they could split one beer. They could each drink half of a beer. Will and Spencer looked at each other incredulously. “A half beer?” I told them they could take it or leave it. Meanwhile, I popped the top on another beer for myself.
I watched these two knuckleheads look over the beer selection, which was neatly stocked in one of those see through refrigerators. For some reason I’ll never know, and after about five minutes of debate, they settled on a bottle of Shiner Bock. Interesting choice. I was slightly confused.
Spencer grabbed two clear, plastic beer cups and Will started pouring. Soon, there were objections that one cup had more beer than the other. Naturally, I employed an age-old parenting trick. “Will, you pour the beer. Spencer, you get to pick your cup first.” If you ever want two kids to divide something up as evenly as possible, one kid divides, the other picks their portion first. Brilliant huh? (I’m such a good parent.) Dividing up the beer took two innings.
Finally, we all sat in the sun enjoying the game while sipping our malt beverages. Will and Spencer enjoyed their “half beers” and I enjoyed my two half beers. There we were, three men cheering on our team, all of us being grownups. I don’t remember who won the game that day, nor do I remember any of the game’s details, but I do remember my proud parenting moment. At least on that one day, you could consider me one of the cool dads.
Little did I realize that the “half beer” would live on in infamy. Will and Spencer would go off to college. They would do what college kids do, which includes a little beer drinking. Apparently, as an inside joke, they would constantly refer to their half beer experience. The memory I so generously gave them! It would go like this:
Spencer: “Will, would you like a half beer?”
Will: “You know, I’ll go ahead and have two.”
Will: “Spencer, I see you are almost done with your beverage. Can I interest you in a half-beer?”
Spencer: “You can interest me in a whole beer, thank you very much!”
Will: “If you are going to the store, can you pick up 48 half beers?”
Spencer: “Certainly.”
This degrading mocking of the half beer experience has been going on now for almost a decade, again, all without my knowledge of course. That is, until the night we all ended up at a local honky tonk. They had a great time buying each other two half beers, ordering them from the waitress who was in on the joke. Generously, they asked me if I’d like a half beer, or a full beer. They had such a good time laughing and scratching at my expense when the waitress would bring me a half full glass of suds. Bastards.
Actually, it was hysterical. We had a great time reminiscing about that ballgame. Deep down, my proud parenting moment had become much more. It became parenting lore, a moment never forgotten among the many moments that are. Anytime my grown son wants to buy me a half beer, I’ll take it. That goes for Spencer too. Perhaps the best thing about this is from now on, for the rest of their lives, when we are all together having dinner, or enjoying a ballgame, or watching a concert, or hanging out at a barbecue, I’m giving those guys one beer and two cups.
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