This week, I must announce a momentous shift in the fabric of suburban culture.

Not since the invention of track housing and homeowners’ associations has there been such a change.

What am I referring to, you may wonder?

Is it the rising crime rate in the suburbs? No. This is not a piece about multiculturalism.

Am I perhaps about to look at the amazing efficiencies society has gained since FedEx bought Kinko’s? No.

Of course it’s amazing that I can make copies at the same place that I can pay ten times the amount I’d pay at the post office to ship a package. But that’s not the astonishing transformation about which I write.

I am here to tell you that there’s a new center of suburban life: the dog park.

Gone are the days when quaint main streets would bring out the neighbors. Nowadays, if you’re shaking your neighbor’s hand, it’s typically after he’s been using it to carry a bag of poop (hopefully his dog’s).

As a proud dog owner, I actually think this is a great transformation. First of all, dog parks are one of the few places where the guy with the neck tattoo and a belief that any dude without an enlarged prostate is probably a vegetarian, and a pristine, sweatpants-wearing soccer-mom have something in common.

In any other environment, both people might view each other with suspicion. But at the dog park, these two can smile and politely ask each other what type of breed their dogs are.

Nowhere else could such different types of people talk about breeding (except for a few chat rooms that I’ve heard about).

I also like how the dog park demonstrates our capacity to be nurturing, caring people. In a culture where children are plopped in front of televisions, given pills when they demonstrate an inkling of creativity or uniqueness, and otherwise managed as if they were medical conditions, it’s great to see that we can set aside quality time to make sure our pets get the love and attention they need to be healthy, mature members of our family.

And this also sends a good message to our children: “Maybe if you were cuter and capable of fetching a ball, your parents would love you more.”

But I think that above all, I love the dog park because it gives couples without kids the opportunity to yell at something in public.

For too long, only those of us with human offspring have been allowed to be secretly mocked as we’ve begged a crying toddler to obey our commands.

Now those who chose “fur babies” over humans can also enjoy looking foolish as they beg their “child” to come; only to have it stare back, squat, and pee.

Jeremy Greenberg is a writer, comedian and an Eastside resident. He is the author of the book, Relative Discomfort: The Family Survival Guide (Andrews McMeel). Learn more at www.relativediscomfort.com.