I had a wonderfully exhausting time in Austin this weekend at the Dad 2.0 Summit and the SXSW Conference. Thanks to everyone who sat through my incoherent ramblings. I'm sorry I spit on those of you in the first three rows. And thanks to all of you writerly types who I really wish I could hang out with every weekend, and occasionally on Wednesdays, because there's no good TV on that night. In no particular order: John, Whit, Michael, Andy, A.J., Kevin, Catherine, Laura, Kristen, Julie, Liz, Ron, Craig, Doug, Danielle, Heather, Michael, Jon, Angus, Mike, Roby, Charlie, Clay, Brad, Jack, Jim. You are all amazing and smart and cool and you all inspire the shit out of me, and the fact that you're all really, really nice people frankly pisses me off a bit, because really? You can't just have a slight flaw that might make me feel better about myself? Anyway, here is the only picture I took the entire four days I was there. It's the inside of a Porta-John:
Here's a bit from my longer piece about my BlogHer '11 experience:
"The fact of the matter is this: women dominate the online creative writing space. They’ve defined and re-defined blogging in ways that men (especially dads) haven’t. I’d argue that one cannot be a successful blogger—in whatever way one chooses to measure that success—without reading and understanding women like Heather Armstrong, Ree Drummond and the myriad of strong Internet writers who happen to be female.
Still, I’m a guy. And this was BlogHER, not BlogHIM. None of the content would be directed at men. So I had no interest, until I found out last year that BlogHer 2011 would be held in my hometown of San Diego. And even then, my motivation was more along the lines of “Eh, might as well, I won’t have to buy a plane ticket.”
So I went to my first BlogHer Conference, because it was here in San Diego, and hey, why not? I submitted a big essay to my overlords at Man Of The House, which will detail What It All Meant, so I won't do an exhaustive/exhausting recap here. I said hi to just about everyone I met for the first time over at Twitter, but I think I forgot to mention that it was great meeting Whipstitch, who is married to my friend The Muskrat. I also forgot to mention that I met Lotus, who along with being very nice is an amazing photographer. Cool names, right? It's like they're superheroes. (Marvel superheroes, because they seem to have the best handles.) Oh, and I met Avitable. Also a cool name. Like a Bond villian's. And unlike you, they get a shoutout in a blog post.
I learned three things at BlogHer. In no particular order:
1. Using A Picture That Looks Like You On Your Blog Or Profile Really Helps. Especially if you're a guy at conference for women - the nametags usually hang around the midriff, and while I do enjoy staring at women's chests from time to time, that can be awkward in certain social/professional situations. It was nice to know people by their face, and it was nice to be recognized. Everyone who recognized me said I looked exactly like I do in my picture, especially on Saturday, because I was wearing the exact same shirt. Also, I bought my pass from someone who was not able to attend, and her handle is A Vapid Blonde, which in my case is only 50% true. (Thanks again, Marla!)
2. You Will Have At Least One Socially Awkward Encounter. Here's how mine went.
Me: "Hi, I'm Jason, I run DadCentric. Nice to meet you!" (I'm actually somewhat friendly in real life.)
Female Blogger Who Shall Remain Nameless: "Are you an asshole? Because you look like you're an asshole. I bet you're an asshole."
Me: (Long pause.) "Um...I...try not to be?"
Female Blogger Who Shall Remain Nameless: "You look like one of those asshole guys. Like, your jaw. It's an asshole jaw."
Me: "Ah, well, I, uh..."
Female Blogger Who Shall Remain Nameless: "Also, the hair. And that shirt."
Me: "Ok, well, hey, great to meet you."
3. Turkey breakfast sausages dipped in pancake batter and then deep-fried like a corn dog are the bomb. But you probably knew that already.
It occured to me that there are (myself included) only fourdadbloggershere in San Diego (please don't send me nasty emails if you are a San Diego dadblogger and I didn't mention you), all of us will be at BlogHer '11 in some capacity, and none of us has (as of this writing) stepped up to offer our fellow male attendees any tips on Guy-Specific things to do while in San Diego, apart from hanging out with hundreds of women who'll be fawning all over us, because I don't give a fuck what you say, that's one of the reasons guys go to BlogHer. Own it, and be free.
Anyway, I'll keep it short and sweet. Here's 5 suggestions for you. You're welcome.
5. Drink some beer at Karl Strauss. San Diego is one of America's best beer towns; our micro- and local breweries can go head-to-head (pun intended) with the nation's best. Pop in to the Karl Strauss brewpub downtown and sample their wares. Recommended: the Amber Lager, of course, and whatever the current special happens to be.
4. Eat a fish taco. San Diego has the best Mexican food in the U.S. We sit right on the border, we don't serve microwaved Velveeta and try to pass it off as "queso" (sorry, Texas, but real queso fundido is actual melted cheese, not Pasteurized Processed Cheese Food), and residents can be fined if caught dining at El Torito. Regarding the fish taco: you may have them where you live, and they may be decent, but they are cheap knock-offs. For the real deal, go to Rubio's - they're generally good, and Rubio's is widely credited as being the first place to offer authetic Baja-style fish tacos to the gueros, but if you don't get them fresh out of the fryer, they lose a little something. (And wash it down with a Pacifico and lime, or a Negra Modelo. Because Coronas are for frat boys and tourists.)
3. Hit the beach. Are you really going to sit through all of those conference sessions while outside the sun shines and the ocean breezes beckon? Of course you're not. You're in Paradise, for Chrissake. Take the Coronado Bay Bridge, and follow the signs to the water. Chill out, maybe bodysurf (and try not to drown - the beachbreak can be punishing), then grab a beer at McP's or show a little class with a martini at the Hotel Del's famous B & S Bar. Also, if you were looking for a Rubio's downtown, you're out of luck, but there is one on Coronado, so hey, now you have another excuse.
2. Check out the ballpark. Petco Park is pretty sweet, even if you're not a baseball fan. There aren't any games scheduled during BlogHer, but it's worth a look. (Fun Fact: my grandmother used to work in the Western Metal Supply building, which now serves as one of the ballpark's walls.) And once you've done that - it'll only take a few minutes - go grab a Mule and a genuine Chicago hot dog (Vienna Beef, flown in from Chicago) at Wolffy's Place. Especially if you're a midwesterner who's confused and frightened by our heretical California ways.
1. Roam The Gaslamp in search of adventure. There are all sorts of killer places awaiting you in the Gaslamp District. Explore! Do I have a favorite? I'd be hard-pressed to pick one. The Field is an authentic Irish pub - and by "authentic", I mean "literally shipped brick-by-brick from Ireland to San Diego" - with a massive selection of whisky (they claim to have 50 different labels). Vin de Syrah is a great place to chill out before or after a night of carousing. And the Cuban Cigar Factory on 5th has beer, wine, and cigars. Cigars!
That ought to get you started. I'll be around, and will probably see some of you there. You know, even though I'm a surly bastard who hates crowds and has little use for tourists, I'm almost excited for BlogHer. Almost.
I was supposed to be on a plane to New Orleans, where I was going to be attending Mom 2.0, speaking on a panel about dadblogging that I'd put together and pitched. I'd recruited a few of my best bloggin' pals to join me, and it was going to be glorious - us talking about our Mad Dadbloggin' Skillz, networking, carousing, building the brand, adding to the legend. But Real Life happens, and a series of events caused me to say so long to all that. One difference between a blogger and a journalist: to the journalist, the life revolves around the writing, to a semi-pro blogger, the writing usually revolves around the life.
Still, had I gone, I'd have missed the chance to interview Richard Blais this morning. I'd have missed the premiere of Game of Thrones on Sunday (which, Dear Readers, I shall be recapping as part of my return to the great MamaPop). And towering above all that, I'd have missed Beth's birthday, which we'll now be celebrating over the course of a few days, with a great meal at R Gang Eatery, owned by the generous and gregarious chef Rich Sweeney (definitely a Top Chef vibe in the air) tonight and some much-needed R & R at the La Costa Resort on Friday, rather than after the fact. I often tell myself that the Universe unfolds as it should, and you know, every so often, I'm actually right.
It's somewhere past Way Too Late on a Saturday night. The high from running Friday's panel on the media and the New American Dad with friend and colleague Craig Heimbuch is still gripping me. ("What does it mean to sound like a dad?", asked by someone in the full room. "It's like jazz", was my reply.) I'm sitting at a table at the epicenter of SXSW Fun, the Driskill, talking to Laura Mayes and Catherine Connors and Jyl Johnson Pattee and Nathan Thornburgh and Caleb Gardner ; their intelligence and humanity are electrifying, like a thumping bass line in my head, stirring my blood like a good backbeat should. Joe Hernandez stopped by for a few minutes - he founded Klout, so naturally I had to ask him what his Klout score was. Earlier that day, I was sitting at a cell phone recharging station and struck up a conversation with the guy next to me. "Where are you from?", he asked. "San Diego," I replied. "Oh, my son goes to San Diego State!" "My alma mater!" The talk to turned to Aztec basketball, then to SXSW - was I here for work, or fun? Both, I said, and told him about the panel I did the day before. He was here for work - Rick Eaton, CFO of Hashable, who then took twenty minutes out of his no certainly busy day to walk me through SXSW's hottest new app. (At one point, he called for help, which came in the form of Hashable CEO Michael Yavonditte, both of them explaining to me what this did, what that did, and it was all I could not to clap my hands in delight. Such moments are geekworthy.) The next morning is Sunday, and I will get up early - "get up", like I've actually slept - and walk the streets of Austin, because when I go to a city for the first time I need to experience it before it wakes, to see what kind of silence it holds. Then I'll head over to a brunch with the PBS Kids production team, the creative minds who could be doing pretty much anything, who opt to make our children's world a little brighter. I'll meet Karen Walrond, and half-jokingly refer to her as a force of nature, but I can think of no better way to describe someone so radiant. I'll fly home, deal with a plane delay that causes me to miss a connecting flight from LA to San Diego, rent a car at LAX at 11:30 at night, make a two hour drive back to the San Diego airport to pick up my car, fall asleep at the wheel at least once, collapse in my bed at 2:45 AM on Monday morning, wake up at 7:30 AM that same Monday morning (have to, because it's my first day at a new job), and spend the next couple of days in a complete fog, battling a horrid case of laryngitis and trying to come up with a way of describing What SXSW Meant To Me. I'm thinking the whole thing was something like jazz. The Mile Davis kind.
I sat down to write a big BlogWorld Expo recap, something along the lines of What I Learned At BlogWorld Expo, but then I saw a shiny object. It was a nickel! Also, I figured that if you wanted to listen to a blogger tell you things about blogging that are sometimes painfully obvious ("Write interesting and original material! Do SEO-friendly things!"), you'd have gone to BlogWorld Expo.
I was there as part of Team Man of The House, and Team Man of The House was there for BlogWorld Expo. (See? SEO-friendly!) BWE is the largest gathering of bloggers in the world; I'd wanted to go for years, and this was my first time. And I went as a Pro, no less! Representing a hot new website! (As mentioned in Slate! And Ad Age, yo!) Alongside people who I admire, respect, and - above all - really, really like. The irony was not lost on me: writing about my life as a father was the reason I was in a Las Vegas nightclub at 2:00 a.m., drink in hand, whooping it up on a crowded dance floor.
But I wasn't there to party, I was there to work. There were over 4,000 attendees at BlogWorld, enough to crew a Vietnam-era aircraft carrier. Most of them had no idea who I was - apparently 3,990 attendees didn't get the memo that it's the Year of the Dadblogger. The expo floor was filled with brand reps, bloggers, and Social Media Gurus; I was there to meet as many of those 4,000 people as possible, promote my site's stuff, make new contacts, build the brand. It reminded me of every job fair I ever worked as a recruiter, or attended as a job hunter. It's not a bad thing, but it adds an antiseptic air to the whole proceedings. At BlogWorld Expo, the currency is measured in Uniques, rather than job experience, but the effect's the same: the person behind the work gets taken out of the equation.
I dropped in on a couple (two, exactly) sessions, both of which were aimed at the promotion of the work, but not the work itself. This is not a creative writing workshop, by any stretch of the imagination - those looking for ways to develop their actual writing skills should look elsewhere. I don't mean that as a criticism - well, maybe I do, considering the number of bloggers out there who don't know the difference between "your" and "you're" (or "dads", "dad's", and "Dad's"). And there's the rub: the blog is the work, and you are the blog.
So there was networking, having good conversations with engaging people who truly wanted to partner with you, having awkward conversations with smarmy kiss-asses who wanted something from you, people who lit up the room, people who sucked the air right out of it. Back and forth I went, swimming through blogger-infested waters, occasionally coming up for air, or a drink, or a cigarette, or anything with caffeine. The iPhone kept dying - they don't want you talking or texting in Vegas, they want you to gamble - but during those moments when the signal broke through the casino bosses' jamming devices, I dove into Twitter. People seemed to be enjoying themselves. Everything was Amazing and New. So-and-so was Brilliant. Best conference ever!
Vegas. How perfect a location for a blog conference, for BlogWorld Expo was a casino, of sorts. Most people there came to play, hoping to hit the big time. I had a tiring, occasionally frustrating, but ultimately great experience. (If anyone's interested in putting together a conference that involves a few writers sitting in a room with a good bottle of wine and talking about writing, lemme know.) And if I came away with nothing else, I heard this song while roaming the Strip, and it stayed with us for the duration.
(Postscript: One of the highlights of BWE - Saturday afternoon, Beth and I are sitting at a cafe eating a sandwich and Cecily Kellogg sees us and yells "JASON!", and we hang out and have an actual conversation about actual things. Cecily Fucking Kellogg, people. (She'd appreciate being called that; we devoted some time to talking about cussing, and whether or not one can cuss too much. Shit no, says me.) This is someone with a following that far exceeds mine, who knows me only through my Twitter rants and blog posts, and now she's no longer @CecilyK. She's Cecily. Pretty awesome. Also, shoutouts to C.C., Chris, Patrick, Karen, and Mike - it was great seeing you all.)
I pride myself on my tales of Outdoor Badassery. Slept in a snow cave during an Alaskan blizzard? Done that. Solo-backpacked the entire rim of Yosemite Valley? Been there. Scaled Joshua Tree rock walls so hot that one could fry an egg on them? Yep.
The thing is, those things were done years - lifetimes - ago. Nowadays, I'm still a lover of all things nature-y, but frankly I'd much rather enjoy the experience while I'm doing it. The thing with the hardcore outdoor sporting stuff is that yes, it's fun in a sick, masochistic way, and only the full-blown lunatics find it relaxing. The novelty of, say, diving into your truck at 2:00 a.m. to avoid the pack of coyotes that is tear-assing through your campsite wears off at a certain point. In fact, I realized that my idea of Getting Away From It All has 360'ed over the past couple of years - I'm now a big fan of fancy hotels. Give me The Se' in downtown San Diego, The Standard in L.A., The Riviera in Palm Springs anytime.
We recently returned from a vacation and a Vacation in Colorado. The vacation: driving (two days) to the town of Dillon, there to spend a few days with my sis and her family. It was good times. We went boating, hiked up some montains, saw some sights, and generally relaxed while all of the kids did kid things, like throw rocks into a stream. I'm pretty sure the sure could have done this for days, and every thrown rock would still contain a lifetime's worth of excitement. So sure, in fact, that I'm meeting with a group of investors and we're going to build an amusement park, and it will be the most cost-effective amusement park ever - a mile long ditch, filled with water, rimmed with piles of rocks, $10, all you can throw. Like I said, good times. Except that it wasn't 100% relaxing, because we stayed in a condo owned by people they knew, and had to clean, and on a couple of occasions actually cooked. So we'll say 95% relaxing. We decided to extend our trip a day, and thus, had a Vacation along with our vacation. Here. Sproing! And thus, another item struck from my 40/40 List: stay at a Ritz-Carlton.
In my last post, I had hinted at a potential Life Changer. Some of you were privy to the big secret, that Beth was being considered for a fantastic position in SYDNEY FREAKING AUSTRALIA. She'd been in the interview process for a few weeks, giving us ample time to consider the whole thing.
For me, it was a no-brainer. As in, hell yes, I'd go and not give it a second thought. Yes, there was some trepidation - chiefly, the thought of leaving Mick behind haunted me, for as big of a pain in the ass as he is, he's our dog, and part of the family, and that would have been painful. (Yeah, I know, what about your friends and family? Two words: Skype and Qantas.) But the idea of it, living Down Under and all that goes with it - 20,000 miles of mostly empty coastline, cool critters, cooler people, watching the toilet water go the opposite direction when flushed - come on, people. AUSTRALIA. That type of opportunity doesn't come along very often, and when it does, you need to jump on it.
So Beth had two interviews with this company, during which time I obsessed over all things Aussie. I read books, checked out websites, sought out the advice of some of my Australian mates, and got all fired up. Perspective was needed - despite Beth being eminently qualified for the position, there were a lot of things that could factor into the company's decision. Cost to hire and relo, competing local talent...it was by no means a sure thing, and as a recruiter myself I know that there's rarely a slam dunk when it comes to hiring someone, especially when it involves an overseas position. Still, I was optimistic.
Well, it's with a tinge of regret that I report that we will not be departing for The Fatal Shore, at least not in the immediate future. The company decided to go with someone else, although Beth did get a phone call from the company recruiter asking her to stay in touch in case they had any additional openings in the Sydney office (professionally speaking, I never call candidates that don't get offers unless I want to keep them on the radar for other jobs, so that's a good thing).
Is it for the best? Who knows. I'd be more upset if we didn't live where we live, and the world tends to work in strange ways - Beth was called out of the blue for this job, so one never knows what will happen. And it's a bit of a relief to have an answer, even if it wasn't the one we were hoping for - the company contacted her in mid-February, and it seems like our lives have been in a holding pattern since. And over the past few weeks we've realized that the idea of leaving San Diego for a new home abroad has its appeal. So if you're living in Sydney and need a good PR person or technical recruiter, shoot me an email!
