Childhood friendships are a natural byproduct of proximity, frequent interaction, and shared interests, maintains Josh Bartell. Such connections are inevitable when you’re locked into a social environment for eight hours a day.

It also helps if you have a common love of pro wrestling and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Those ties change when you grow up—people move, attend college, or get married. Bartell, a former Marine from Youngstown, moved a half dozen times before boomeranging back to Northeast Ohio in 2024. Married himself and with three children from a previous relationship, Bartell realized he didn’t have solid social connections with other guys.
Dudes of Cleveland's Scott Nixon and Josh Bartell.“Adult life makes things complicated—when, as kids, those friendships happened organically,” says Bartell, a 38-year-old Tremont resident. “And men aren’t supposed to admit that they want that connection.”

Bartell refused to accept a lack of community as his new normal. Instead, he created Dudes of Cleveland, a male-centered social group for guys of all ages. With a calendar of three to four monthly meetups, the “Dudes” keep things relaxed through sporting events and axe-throwing.

Though members may toss back a beer or two when they’re together, the group is generally a no-pressure zone when it comes to hardcore partying.

In fact, anyone seeking a wild time should look elsewhere. Camaraderie and brotherhood are Bartell’s foundational principles—twin concepts sorely needed by men of all stripes, he says.

According to the Survey Center on American Life, roughly 30% of young men have no close social ties. While time spent alone has risen for both men and women, men are less likely to be part of any group or community as they age.

Some of this is self-inflicted—an odd cocktail of blinkered masculinity and stubborn self-reliance. Then there are those who mock emotional vulnerability and the “feminine” need for non-sexual companionship, says Bartell.

“Part of the stigma is that society ties masculinity to independence,” he observes. “Admitting you want friends can feel unmanly, so men don’t talk about it. That’s why we stay isolated, or why women complain that we’re so hard to connect with.”

‘Let’s get out of the comfort zone’
The spark for “Dudes” actually came from Bartell’s wife, Bre, whose experience with the women’s networking organization She’s Company served as his blueprint. After noodling the concept with She’s Company founder Rebecca Maxwell, Bartell coordinated an October 2024 meet-up at Hi & Dry Bowling & Beer in Tremont. The event drew 18 curious Clevelanders looking for connection.

Dudes golfing together.“I expected three guys after promoting [the event] on Instagram,” Bartell recalls. “Having 18 people come up showed me I was on the right track, this is something that was needed. I didn’t have 150 guys or anything, but even if I had five it meant I wasn’t alone.”

Lakewood resident Scott Nixon went to his first “Dudes” event last year, ostensibly to create content for his Stay Beautiful America social media page. Despite arriving with zero expectations, Nixon immediately hit it off with Bartell, finding the group's relaxed atmosphere an ideal catalyst for kinship.

“I never went to any networking events, or put myself out there,” says Nixon. “I get hesitant about doing new things, but I said, ‘Let’s get out of the comfort zone.’”

Creating a physical space for socialization is vital in a world where face-to-face interaction has been replaced by smartphones and social media image-crafting. Low-stakes hangouts also remove the transactional nature of most adult meetings, Nixon says.

“I’m a guy who doesn’t drink, but I can just shoot the shit with people,” he explains. “These aren’t my best friends, but I still like seeing everyone and catching up. I’d tell anyone to check it out. You can walk away with connections, then who knows?”

Today, “Dudes” events draw about 20 to 30 participants, ranging from young professionals to 60-somethings. Outside of bar meets, Bartell organizes volunteer outings at Greater Cleveland Food Bank, and even gathers members for monthly workouts at Fit Cleveland.

The group is also a launchpad for genuine friendship, with members coordinating their own hangouts outside of official events.

Continuing the fitness theme, Bartell says that men should approach their social lives with the same rigor as a grueling workout.

“You have to put in the reps and show up consistently, even if it feels a little awkward,” he says. “It’s about trying new things and places with new people. Once someone experiences the group, they understand it better.”