Surviving (and Recapping) the Dad 2.0 Summit

The air thickened with conspiracies to prevent me from attending the Dad 2.0 Summit last week.

There was My Love’s first business trip in a year, a 10-day behemoth to Berlin that overlapped with half of my Austin adventure.

But my sister agreed to look after the Things and Murphy and all their medications and appointments for me.

There was American Airlines continuing its long history of delaying nearly every flight I’ve ever taken between Dallas and New York. We were 90 minutes late this time, forcing me to miss the registration. And curse a lot.

However, a conference staffer agreed to run back to the storeroom and dig out my badge so I could get into the opening night party.

Oh, there was more.

Yet once inside, it was all good.

Real good.

Go over to DadCentric for the deets, a rare group post by me and two of my colleagues, titled: Dad 2.0 Summit in a Nutshell (by 3 Nuts with Nuts). I promise you’ll like it. And that I’ll never again say “deets.”

Here’s some stuff I left out:

• In addition to a legion of great dad bloggers, I also got to hang with some pretty awesome women, none of whom were on mechanical bulls or in strip clubs (not that I experienced any of those things – honest and truly) who supported our efforts: Wendi of the bizarrely titled WendiAarons.com, Heather of The Spohrs Are Multiplying, Sarah of many sites but mostly of Sarah and the Goon Squad, and the well-coifed Polly of Lesbian Dad.
• I offended two blogging personas in one: sex blogger the Mominatrix by referring to the male “undercarriage” (or “gootch” as my DadCentric boss corrected me) and Kristen of Cool Mom Picks by showing her my pay-as-you-go phone and daughter’s iTouch. Score!
• I scared my roommate, Andy of Beta Dad, twice in the bathroom. One time he was in only his boxer briefs, the other, he was in the shower. TwoBusy, forgive me!

When I finally returned home, I walked in exhausted. There, in his pajamas on the couch, was Thing 2.

Thing 2, who had his first Little League tryout the day before. Which I missed. And worried about him missing. So much that I drew an actual map for My Love to make sure she got him to the right place. And told her to get him there 30 minutes before she actual had to. She has this problem with time, you see. Not hers, just everyone else’s in our family.

Thing 2 hopped up and walked over to me, his oversized red plaid PJs piling up around his wrists and ankles.

He hugged me.

Told me he hit a bunch of line drives right up the middle.

Yep. It all worked out just fine for this dad.

No Stupid Smartphone for This Dad 2.0

Today, with a little luck, I am on my way to Austin for the Dad 2.0 Summit, a.k.a. Paternity Party 2012.

Given my usual luck traveling in or out of Texas, though, I’m most likely stranded at the Chili’s Too in Terminal C at DFW International Airport, reduced to selling my “wares” for Shiner Bocks and Southwestern Eggrolls to survive the long, dull Lone Star nights.

That might not be a bad thing. I’m a little nervous about whether I can really hang with daddy-type dudes for three days.

What worries me?

My lack of knowledge about cars?

I can drive and that’s all one really needs to know these days.

Ineptitude at discussing bracket selections for March Madness?

It’s flippin’ Texas, y’all. All they care about is football and we are in one of the two months when it is replaced by deer hunting. Luckily, I’m hanging with diaper-changing daddy bloggers for the weekend and the only guns they are familiar with are on power-washers or video games.

No, I’m most worried about hanging with the testosterone-laden social media mavens. Because …

I do not own a smartphone.

No. I’m not kidding.

My Love has a BlackBerry and an iPhone.

Thing 1, age 12 (12!!), even has an iPhone. I have this:

Pay-as-go, circa 2008, baby.

If you think my typing skills suck on a full computer keyboard, wait till you see me try to text a message on this bee-yotch.

Six words a minute. Moses carved the Commandments faster. In Hebrew, no less.

It’s not that I’m tech adverse. I love gadgets. I’d love to be snapping Instagrams of every single thing I see from morning to night and bitching about the tasteless slop I ate for dinner on Yelp.

But remember who I am. I am “always home.” Well, 90 percent of the time.

Do you really want to see my dog’s poop looking edgy and hip as taken with a PopRocket Valencia Polaroid Canasta Filbert Raisin filter? And dang it, if you don’t like the tasteless slop I serve, eat before you come visit, you parasite!

Also, I’m kinda cheap.

Every time I consider buying a fancy smartphone, I do one thing.

I open the door to my “inspiration fridge,” and look at all the lovely, tasty microbrews in there. I can afford these because rather than $80 a month, I pay $15 a month for my dinky cell phone.

Then I walk away, often belching contentedly.

Priorities, folks. It’s all about priorities.

But to be safe, I will be bringing some tech with me to Austin to allow me to do some Tweeting and Angry Birding and raging against evil American car companies while in the hotel’s WiFi range:

It’s an iTouch.

Not mine, of course.

My daughter’s.

C’mon, not even we sensitive New-Age father-conference goers could possibly be THIS into Justin Bieber.

Could we?

Mmm howdy, that moppet’s got some pipes.

‘Nother round of Southwestern Eggrolls for my fellow travelers, y’all!

Sing the traveling-to-a-conference blues for me, Delbert …

Video: Delbert McClinton, “B-Movie Boxcar Blues”