Stuff your Dad likes: Dad beer

Jacob Zinn can’t give you fatherly advice, but he can teach you armpit farts.


Jacob Zinn can’t give you fatherly advice, but he can teach you armpit farts.

By Jacob Zinn


The existence of beer has been documented in ancient Chinese, Egyptian and Mesopotamian civilizations, dating as far back as 9500 BC, but dad beer dates back to the ‘70s.

That’s when your old man started drinking Schlitz, Blatz and other obscure brands that ended with zs.

At the time, kegs were only beginning to catch on and bottles and cans were still the way to go. You can bet your dad and his friends tailgated outside hockey games in your uncle’s wood-panel Volkswagen hippie van, and polished off a twofer of Pabst Blue Ribbon back when PBR wasn’t hipster alcohol.

He may never admit it, but your dad could also shotgun with the best of ‘em. His share of the liquid gold was gone before the first solo of Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” came through the eight-track player.

And you know that game 99 bottles of beer on the wall? He invented it.

Your dad laid the foundation for beer pong, kegstands and Animal House-style fraternizing – all while double fisting bottles of Carlsberg. Heck, he was the inspiration for the most interesting man in the world.

Nowadays, he may still drink Bass or Hacker-Pschorr if he can find them at the liquor store. Sure, he also tried Budweiser, Coors and Miller Genuine Draft as a young man, but those aren’t the classic beers he loved.

He doesn’t care about the “wassup” ad campaign. He wants to stock his mini fridge with that smooth, refreshing, easy-drinking taste he had when he was your age – and he won’t settle for light beer.

You may have never heard of his favourite lager, but from the way he tells you about it, you know it puts your cervezas and silver bullets to shame.

Or, maybe you’ve tried any of these relic beverages and scowled at the fermented aftertaste. That just means you’re either used to crappy beer or haven’t had a man’s beer before.

It’s an acquired taste, so acquire some taste, pick up a six-pack of Spaten and have a drink with your dad in his shag-carpeted rec room (because his old-time watering hole is probably a Walmart now).