Today's beer drinkers have more going on than these guys.

Most of the time, it is pretty easy to feel discouraged about the continuing sad state of the North American beer industry. If they are not buying each other out or cascading the public with ads linking watery beer with opportunities for interaction with busty blonde women, the big boys are punching out a parade of hyper-new or pseudo-craft offerings. As a case in point the new ad for Miller Chill LEMON had me drooping my head in shame for the beer world.

However, there are some days when life hands me evidence that things really are improving. I was in a pub the other day (gasp!) and while waiting for my friends to arrive was sitting at the bar (I wasn’t sure where we wanted to sit). The pub would best be described as a local, and certainly not as a beer geek hangout. It had a couple of Halifax taps plus a St. Ambroise or two in the midst of the usual. I casually overheard two young men (in their mid-20s by my estimation) looking over the beer list. The one remarks about Keith’s no longer being brewed in Halifax. The other comes back with a dismissive “it tastes like all the others anyway.” Neither knew much about the local offerings, although one identified them as local. After a couple minutes of chewing over the options, one selected a Propeller and the other St. Ambroise Stout.When the beer came, they earnestly took first sips, and even swapped so they could sample both. They casually discussed the beer amid other topics, and generally rated it well. I recall hearing one, referring to the discount beer at the local campus bar, lament how it gave you a whopping hangover the next day, unlike the stout in front of him.

From the language they used and the tentative nature of their exploration, it was clear they are not beer geeks, but merely the beer curious. Two young men who, having started with macro-beer, wanted something more. They weren’t sure what that “more” was, but they were willing to look for it. And they instinctively knew it was found in small breweries of which they had barely heard.

As I reflected on this snippet, I realized it is a large step away from any conversation about beer two 20-somethings would have had 10 years ago. The level of expectation – and openness – feels new to me. And it is one of those feelings that leaves me more spirited and hopeful.

I don’t want to run too far with this optimism. I realize most 20-somethings still happily jump for the cheapest beer on the shelf, and remind myself regularly that the big boys still control 95% of the Canadian beer market. But, my friends, a window has been thrown open, casting some sunlight into the dingy, grey living room of Canadian beer. And as more and more Canadians look out that window at the panoramic vistas and sharp colours of the big wide world of good beer, they look back at their drab surroundings and sense what they are missing. And so, they find themselves turning to the window more and more, catching more of the detail each time. And soon enough, they seek out the door, step across, and close it behind them, leaving the boring world of macro-beeer forever.

They two young men of my story haven’t crossed to the door yet, but they are actively taking in the sights and smells of the window. And THAT leaves me optimistic