Thursday, February 1, 2018

Making Good on a Promise at Mardi Gras


It only took 13 years for me to keep up my end of the bargain, but a promise is a promise.

Back in 2005, when my wife and I first moved from Washington, D.C, to Upstate New York, she made me promise that we’d go someplace warm in February as a way to deal with the long, cold, snowy, unrelenting winters. Unrelenting is her word.

She likely meant every February. But it didn’t work out that way. We had just one young daughter at the time, and I took a job for a state legislator, and it just so happened that January through June is the natural busy season for the legislature.

Then we started having more kids. And those kids started going to school. And the one week each February they had off from said school – a thing in New York known as the winter break – just happens to be the busiest and most expensive time of year to travel away from Syracuse in a mode of transportation that could get your and your kids someplace warm fast without losing your sanity.

So, every February since then, we’ve hunkered down in Syracuse and worked while waiting for winter to pass. Luckily for me, my wife has a good memory when it comes to things like promises. And every February, she reminds me of the fateful day that I shook my head yes and accepted her one request on the great move north.

It’s not like we never go anyplace warm, ever. We just have always waited until the end of the school year. A few times, we have piled in the car and made it as far as Washington, D.C., in February to visit my wife’s sister, her husband and the growing troupe of cousins there. But Washington in winter doesn’t count as someplace warm. Trust me. I’ve tried to make the case and lost. It’s warmer, but not actually warm. 
It was over 70 degrees in NOLA today. 
We did go to Florida with the kids once, but that was in November after an election and before the depths and true depression of an upstate New York winter take hold, turning everyone into Jack Nicholson in the Shining. The November trip didn’t count. And as much as I’d hoped we’d make that a regular thing, and get our warm trip in slightly outside the set parameters of winter, we have yet to go back. We want to, but the whole kids/time/money grid never quite aligns properly to make Florida a regular thing.

In any event, between 2005 and 2017, we never took a trip to someplace warm in February. I was 0 for 12.

This year, that has changed.

And to top it off, we’re doing it without the kids. (Sorry, offspring. I promise to take you next time -- whatever that is worth).

This morning, we got on a plane in the wee hours of the morning and we lifted off toward the south and away from all the snow, with our final destination in the much warmer climate of New Orleans. It’s not exactly the Caribbean, but I hear it’s a fine place to be – especially in February. Something to do with an approaching religious holiday.

There is a catch, of course. And here it is.
We are going to New Orleans not out of the goodness of my heart, nor because I’m turning over a new leaf in the promise-keeping category (I do happen to keep most promises), nor even to just thaw out. We are going because the annual dad blogger conference, the internationally-acclaimed Dad 2.0 Summit, is being held there this year.

You might remember the Dad 2.0 Summit from a past post, How to Make Virtual Friends and Find Your Tribe. Though it’s more likely you didn’t read that one – based on google analytics and this math thing called probability.

But, either way, it’s a conference I’ve gone to in the past and enjoyed immensely. And, if you did happen to read that other post you’d also know this conference brings together a strong community of writers and friends of which I’m proud to be a member.

Of course, you may also have noticed that I’m really not much of a blogger these days. I haven’t posted since November, and that was one of only a handful from all of last year. I’m also not vane enough to think anyone notices when I don’t write. Though I did have one guy see me and say, relieved, “You haven’t posted lately, and I was worried something happened to you.”

Like if I croaked, the only way people would know is that this blog went dark. Kind of a back-handed compliment, but I’ll take it.

The truth is, I was never much of a blogger to begin with. I learned that joining this community of dad bloggers and meeting guys who have thousands, tens of thousands, and even hundreds of thousands of followers. If you look at the nifty, little Facebook plugin on the right side of this post, you’ll see I’ve got about 500, most of which are there because they are related to me or were pressured into liking my page by yours truly. Some are there for both reasons -- thanks, mom.

But, my insignificance in the blogging world doesn’t matter. Not this weekend. Because, this group of dads and writers and content producers are my friends. Some of them are a big deal in the “social media influencer” world. And some are just struggling writers like me with enough savvy to set up a blogger account. (That takes zero tech savvy, by the way). And some of them even read this dumb little blog of mine.

As an added bonus, this blog and this conference have helped me finally make good on that promise I made 13 years ago.

Our plan is simple: I'm going to attend most conference events. And she and I will hang out together around those events and in the days before and after the summit. When I’m not around, she’ll just bask in the warmth.

So, let the record state that over the next few days, my wife and I will be enjoying someplace warm in February, finally.

(Don’t tell her, but the forecast for Saturday says it’ll be in the 50s. Yikes. I hope she packed a jacket). 


Like the article?  Here's others you may enjoy: New Year, Few Expectations, One Fish, Two Fish, Dead Fish, New Fish and Kid Quotes from a Family Hike. 


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