Welcome !

Fatherhood. What a wild ride. The second your wife/significant other suggests you clear your calendar for the next 18 or so years, it starts. And it really never ends. The single act that is now getting you excited about researching strollers and contacting lactation coaches is at the same time common (it happens every day) and truly miraculous (in terms of all the things that had to be exactly in place, biologically, for your little sprog to set up roost). I daresay the jamokes running around the stage, grabbing their Knicks jerseys and yelling “boo-ya” after hearing Maury Povich announce “(enter made-up urban name here)…you ARE the father” don’t realize this.

Over next 10 months as all these things swirl around your mind and you begin to get comfortable the entire concept, it becomes clear what you’ve become – an American Sherpa. Pack the car, unpack the car. Get furniture. Assemble it. Spend time deciding whether the screws left over from the crib assembly process are spares or are structurally critical. Pack the car again, unpack the car. You see what I am getting at. The day your child is born, however, your role as Sherpa transcends its “carry my stuff” connotation, and you truly become a guide, a companion, a bodyguard, and all those other things that fathers (good fathers) become for their children.

My beautiful daughter Sloane Olivia was born on February 17, 2006. My life since then has been an adventure in every sense of the word.

Welcome to American Sherpa. I trust you’ll enjoy my observations and ruminations on fatherhood, life, and whatnot