Nestled into the belly of Oakland, My Dad’s House is hosting an intimate mid-summer boogie at The Howl on Saturday, July 8th. 

In celebration and support of our third return to Black Rock City, we papas are keen to grub, grind, and bark at the moon together into the wee morning hours! The venue features a finely tuned sound system and a dance floor surrounded by plentiful squish, upon which you’re encouraged to become squishy and kuddle. It’s a bitchin’ zone, frankly. We’re jazzed to be throwing our first fundraiser in such a serendipitously aligned space, as the whole spot screams DAD.

Our resident Dad-Js (Slick Disc Willie and CHAOS) will be serving grooves on the decks. More surprise guests to be announced, or not, but maybe? We’ll see ;]

The Dads are gonna crank out cheesieboigahs and cereal bowls all night long from the kitchen, as a literal friggin’ tiki bar provides a tasteful arrangement of tall, cool ones. Can you say Mi-Jam-i Vice? Come hungry, get thirsty, bring a friend.

We’re also holding an auction of items created/offered by Dads, featuring artwork via Vita, yoga with Sadie, fermentation a la Em & Pesto, and wellness by The Oracle. This is a limited ticket/capacity shindig, so c’mon out and bark at the moon with us! Goin’ late, but show up early so you don’t miss the chance to strut your stuff on the Dad Catwalk — ow ow! 

Proceeds from this fundraiser are going towards our camp’s infrastructure, offerings, and all things that keep your buttholes sufficiently charged on playa. 

9pm~3am

$35

Participants will receive the address on the night of the event <3

About Us

My Dad’s House is a cozy, classic respite from the maximalism of BRC. We don’t have a singular offering, but rather a cornucopia of Dad-led wonderment. Be it dance parties, movement workshops, live jams, philosophical musings, cereal breakfasts, poetry slams, socialist propaganda, slackline extravagance, or super tan buttholes, there’s definitely something for everyone.

In the midst of such merriment, we seek to creatively redefine fatherhood, to reclaim masculinity, and to reparent ourselves, our friends, and our inner children. Y’all are warmly invited to hang out, write a letter to your Dad in our garage, and enjoy a sense of shelter, of safety, of home (and to boogie down and heckle and giggle and tickle and squirm too!).

So c’mon by, ditch the shit, and stay a while.