Cook: A Happy Grunter's, I mean, Father's Day to you

Staff Photo by Ashlee Culverhouse/Chattanooga Times Free Press - June 22, 2012. David Cook

I am a father, not a caveman.

Yet, each Father's Day, the American media and its advertisers treat dads as if we were grunty, flatulent men who are happiest when our families give us gifts best suited for Tim Allen.

Grills. Barbecue sauce. Tongs.

Power drills.

Anything goofball.

"World's Greatest Farter, I Mean, Father," read a T-shirt that popped up first - first! - during an Amazon search for Father's Day gift ideas.

It's offensive, really, such one-dimensional masculinity. We shouldn't symbolize or commodify fatherhood with power drills any more than spatulas on Mother's Day. Modern fatherhood is a diverse, heartfelt thing. Dads I know braid hair and also coach football. Others are stay-at-home. Many eat kale.

"The number of fathers who are at home with their children for any reason has nearly doubled since 1989," stated a 2014 study from the Pew Research Center.

Those at-home dads? They are caring, emotionally engaged, empathetic.

For so long, advertisers and the media have been blind to this, instead imagining dads as taller versions of snips, snails and puppy dog tails, more Conan than compassion. In their world, Father's Day is all about the body - barbecue and beer - but not the heart.

"Lawnmowers and neckties," said my wife.

These are old gender stereotypes; like all stereotypes, they die hard. (No, not "Die Hard.")

"This happens on Mother's Day, too," my wife added.

This is not to say grilling is bad. Or power tools. Or flatulence.

But it is damaging to both men and their families when the cultural image of Father's Day continues to support the antiquated gender norm that fatherhood is synonymous with emotional superficiality and Bruce Willis-stoicism.

It suppresses the fiery, papa-bear, lean-in aspect of fatherhood. It discourages a masculinity that is also replete with tenderness.

Worst of all, it equates the transcendent, spiritual, fall-to-knees painful, jump-to-the-sky rewarding heart work of fathering with barbecue sauce. And half-price bags of charcoal. And novelty golf tees.

"Three quarters of dads say they are responsible for their child's emotional well-being," said Rob Candelino. "But only 20 percent see that in media."

He's the marketing guy for Unilever, which released a series of ads - Dove+Men Care campaign - that honors the emotional side of fathers. The ads - find them on YouTube - are powerful reminders that: 1. fatherhood is a sweetly joyous thing and 2. it's profoundly good when ads reflect that.

"In my house, my manhood is not called into question because I am the one who kisses my spouse when she gets home, and asks, 'How was work?' Nor because I'm the one cooking dinner and [usually] cleaning up after," writes local dad Chad Prevost in the Washington Post.

Several years ago, Prevost left his teaching career to become a stay-at-home dad for their three kids. While his wife, Shelley, worked in the local start-up and entrepreneurial world, he did the laundry, made dinner, and well, I'll let him tell you.

"Cooking, drop-offs, pick-ups, homework schedules, cleaning, groceries, bills, laundry, mowing, weeding, the dishwasher, vehicle registration and emissions renewal, wood rot from leaking windows," he writes in another WashPo essay.

Gracefully, Prevost is able to do all that, while also writing, publishing and still teaching.

And guess what?

"I wouldn't trade what I'm experiencing and what we as a family have grown into," he concludes.

Fatherhood is about empathy, strength and our best attempts at wholeness.

Fatherhood is about being present. Or at least trying like crazy to be.

Fatherhood can be as much about domestic life as the grilling life. Yes, it contains beer mugs and lawnmower blades, but is also full of diaper bags and yoga mats.

The inflexible, beefy image of fatherhood misses the entire lesson of being a dad.

It's not about heartburn.

It's about heart.

Contact David Cook at dcook@timesfreepress.com or 423-757-6329. Follow him on Facebook at DavidCookTFP.