“If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.” – Papa Hemingway
I never lived in Paris, though I visited a lifetime ago for 36 hours. I ate well and drank wine. We climbed to the top of Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower and stalked the cavernous galleries of the Louvre.
I am not a young man, either, though I am a dad and that keeps my spirit young.
On Bourbon Street during Dad 2.0 Summit in 2014. We were moving and feasting.
My own Moveable Feast alights in New Orleans this week. I plan to eat well and drink wine, and maybe a gin fizz or two. Though it is not Paris, and though I am not young, my annual pilgrimage to the Dad 2.0 Summit will once again center my soul.
Before Houston in 2013, I was not aware of what I missed. I went to the second Dad 2.0 Summit because I was invited to read. I went to the next four because I could not stay away.
Let me tell you about community. Let me tell you about a sense of belonging.
You think you’ve got it figured out when you reach your 40s. Even though life has taken sharp, sometimes unpleasant but often exhilarating turns; even though you have held your two newborn sons to your chest and beamed at the world and everyone, caught in a frozen instant of pure parental bliss; even though death has knocked, and knocked again, and been left wanting, for now, at the doorstep; even though you are one of the lucky ones who found a partner to love and live for …
You think you have it figured out, that you’ve made it, that this is us and that’s all there is.
Then I went to Dad 2.0 Summit in Houston. There were people there, people I knew only as pixels on a screen, people I knew as they wanted me to know them, through the lens of social media.
Then came the hugs, and the conversation, and the smiles, and the tears. Then I knew.
I knew I belonged, and I had not even been aware of NOT feeling that way before. There, without warning, were the members of my flesh-and-blood tribe: parents, creators, friends, brothers and sisters.
Musicians in the French Quarter, circa 1995. These guys know what it’s all about.
Each year we gather again to renew the bond. We’ll be in New Orleans this week. By the time it’s done on Sunday, I know I will ACHE to return to my wife and sons. I know that because that’s how it always is. That reunion is among the highlights of all my Februarys.
Next year, the feast will move to another city, then another a year after that. I’ll be there.
So, too, I expect, will these friends. They agreed to share some thoughts on what Dad 2.0 Summit means to them. They represent a handful of the hundreds of us who will gather this week belonging, hoping, hugging and sharing in that rarest of personal commodities — a moveable feast to call our own.
Brent Almond, Designer Daddy
“Blogging is a lot like parenting. You have to be adaptable (‘bloggers’ are now ‘influencers;’ toddlers become teenagers). It helps to find joy in the process, or you burn out quick. And everyone does it differently — there’s no one right way to feed a newborn or hashtag an IG post. Dad 2.0 (and the dads therein) has helped me find my voice as a blogger and my footing as a father. Its value is immeasurable.”
Creed Anthony, Tales from the Poop Deck
“Dad 2.0 is an inclusive environment where parents (because we do have moms too) are empowered to find their own voice and be a part of something. It’s the antithesis of the competitive parenting culture. It’s a welcoming group where problems, victories, and the everyday are all shared. I am a better husband, dad, and writer because of it. My gratitude for this community can’t be fully expressed in words.”
Charlie Capen, Dads 4 Change
“When we look at our influence as a group of fathers, where we think things should go, want to improve our craft or find new brands and outlets to work with, Dad 2 is where a lot of that happens. It’s our polling place for the direction of our community. It’s our recess yard to blow off steam. It’s our proving ground to show off what we’ve created to people who could invest in us if we wish. The conversations are well worth it. The dinners and drinks are better for all of it.”
John Kinnear, Ask Your Dad Blog
“I don’t know why, but before I became a dad I always assumed I would just figure it out and know what to do by instinct. That wasn’t the case. The only thing I got better at figuring out after having a kid was how to be a giant ball of worry all the time. The first year I attended Dad 2.0 was one of the first times I finally felt like a part of something bigger than myself and my own self-doubt as a father. I met men like myself that were both strong and willing to admit when they weren’t. They lifted each other up and created a community around fatherhood. I’m very proud to be a part of that community.”
Michael Moebes, Dadcation
“In my ‘normal life,’ we don’t talk much about being a dad — the highs and lows, the questions, the feelings of inadequacy. Instead, I learn if someone’s child does something really noteworthy (via Facebook, more than likely) or is sick. At Dad 2.0, the conversations are real.”
Chris Read, Canadian Dad Blog
“It’s not always easy to talk to friends and family about the specific challenges of parenting you are faced with. That’s why I love the brotherhood that is the Dad 2.0 Summit, because I know I can talk to these guys about anything and get great advice while I’m at it.”
