Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 102

Annoyingly hyper productivity

Just when I was feeling productive, I read about the silkworm:

Each silkworm produces a single strand of silk that’s 915 meters long.

That’s 30,000 times longer than the silkworm itself.

And it accomplishes all of this in less than two months.

Damn showoffs.

Then, in the same hour, I read about Emil Richards, a vibraphonist and member of the Wrecking Crew.

Richards is responsible for three of the most memorable sounds of the twentieth century:

The finger clicks in The Addams Family themeThe bongos in Mission ImpossibleThe xylophone in the theme for The Simpsons

Silkworms and Emil Richards… making me feel far less productive today.

Taking care of your future self

I refer to the idea expressed in this brilliant graphic as “Taking care of your future self.”

I am constantly telling my children, my students, and even some adults to take care of their future selves by investing now to ensure that tomorrow will be bright and happy.

My former principal, Plato Karafelis, would tell parents, “You pay now or pay later.”

Case in point:

On Christmas day, Charlie spilled apple cider on my laptop. Though the computer continued to function, the keys were sticky like a toddler’s fingers by the next day. Many of them wouldn’t budge.

So I made an appointment at the Apple store, took out my backup laptop, and began to work.

Five minutes later, the battery in the backup laptop failed, causing the computer to cease functioning unless it was continuously plugged in.

So I made another appointment at the Apple store and retrieved the backup to my backup, which was also ready to go. It’s admittedly not the best machine in the world. It’s about eight years old and achingly slow in comparison to my other two machines, but it was loaded with all of my content, updated, and ready to go.

Every Sunday, I place all three of these laptops on my desk, power them up, and allow them to sync, so that all three are identical in terms of content and software. I also ensure that any required updates are made and necessary patches are applied.  Charlie has thought it crazy that I have a backup to my backup ready at all times, but I’ve told him I never want to be a person who requires a laptop to work and be stuck without it.

“Sometimes even your backup will fail,” I’ve told him. “And in those cases, only a truly prepared person – someone taking care of his future self – will be able to continue working.”

Granted, you also need to have the means to own a backup to the backup, but as an author and someone who runs his business online, my computer is my most important tool, so living without a backup makes no sense.

Also, it’s not like I purchased these computers as backups. I simply held onto the older machines when they were replaced, made the necessary repairs to keep them functioning, and worked diligently to keep them updated and running well.

When I opened the backup to the backup and began working, Charlie couldn’t believe it.

“Dad, it’s like you saw the future.”

I was happy with how impressed he was with me, but I hope he learned something important, too:

Do the hard work now so you can have an easier life later.

This philosophy – and this brilliant graphic – apply to so many things in life:

EducationParentingExerciseDietSaving for a rainy dayRetirement planningRelationships

Hard decisions early on will almost always yield a far easier life later on.

New Year’s Resolutions 2023

At the beginning of every year, I establish a list of goals (or New Year’s resolutions) for the coming calendar year. I post this list on my blog and social media to hold myself accountable.

I recommend this to everyone. I’ve been engaged in this process since 2010, and I am convinced I have been more productive and successful as a result, even though my average goal completion rate stands at 54.7%.

I’ve learned that setting exceptionally high goals and accepting inevitable failure is critical to achievement.

I’ve also honestly changed my life as a result of this process. Previous goals have led me to me meditating daily, learning to cook, flossing without missing a day in more than a decade, and exercising regularly. Many goals that once appeared on my list are now simply things that I do regularly without thought or effort.

An unexpected side benefit has been the occasional assistance from readers in completing some of my goals through advice, recommendations, and sometimes even direct intervention. Four years ago, the amazing Kathryn Gonnerman turned the blog that I had written to my children for the first six years of their existence into six enormous, beautiful tomes that my kids are constantly reading.

She knocked one of my goals right off my list.

People are exceptionally kind, and I never turn down an offer of assistance.

Equally unexpected is the interest in these blog posts on my yearly goals and monthly updates. I often feel like updating my progress each month is the least interesting thing I write, but apparently, there are readers out there who disagree.

They are some of my most-read posts.

Many people express appreciation for my willingness to share my failures openly. I think it’s easy to look at someone and think they do everything well, but when you look under the hood, it’s easy to see that not everything is firing on all cylinders.

I’m simply lifting the hood and allowing people to see my imperfection and outright failure.

So here are this year’s goals. As always, I choose goals focused on process over product. With a couple of exceptions, I don’t write goals that depend upon the decisions of others to complete. So instead of writing:

“I will publish a novel.”

… my goal would be:

“I will write a novel.”

I have control over the quality and quantity of my writing. But I have no control over whether or not an editor will deem it worthy of purchase and publication. Many great authors remain undiscovered until well after their death, but thank goodness that continues to write in the face of rejection.

Process over product.

When setting goals, we must make them dependent upon our own effort and not the whims and predilections of others.

I always reserve the right to add to or edit a goal on the list when conditions change throughout the year, though this has only happened three times in the past 12 years.

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PERSONAL FITNESS

1. Don’t die.

Recommended by my friend, Charles, years ago. Still valid today and deserving of the first spot on the list.

I plan on living forever or die trying.

2. Lose 20 pounds.

Since 2010, I’ve lost a total of 53 pounds, but I’ve never met my yearly goal. Last year I wanted to lose another 20 pounds, bringing my weight close to my high school pole vaulting weight.

Instead, I finished 2022 down just 12 pounds, but mostly because of illness at the end of the year.

Another 20 pounds is clearly ambitious, but I’m willing to try to make that happen in 2023.

3. Do at least 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, and three one-minute planks five days a week.

I’ve accomplished this goal for nine consecutive years, only missing time due to injury and surgical recovery. But it’s not exactly automatic because it’s still hard and oftentimes a pain in the ass, so it remains on the list.

4. Cycle for at least five days every week. 

I fell back in love with my bike at the onset of the pandemic when going to the gym became impossible. I rode every day for months. In November 2020, we purchased a NordicTrack stationary cycle, which I have been riding when the weather prevents me from riding outdoors.

I plan to ride on my bike or the NordicTrack for at least five days every week in 2023.

5. Improve my golfing handicap by two strokes. 

My handicap is a whopping 17.6. You’d think with the amount of golf I play as well as the lessons I take, I could get this number lower fairly easily.

But it’s golf. Still, 15.6 will be the goal in 2023.

WRITING CAREER

6. Complete my eighth novel.

I completed my middle-grade novel in 2022, so it’s back to my next adult novel, which I intend to finish in 2023.

7. Write my next Storyworthy book.

This book is sold to my publisher, so I don’t have any choice but to write it. Still, a lot of work lies ahead.

8. Write/complete at least three new picture books, including one with a female, non-white protagonist.

I wrote three picture books in 2015.
I wrote another three in 2016.
I started but did not finish four picture books in 2017.
Those four books, plus two more, remained unfinished in 2018.
All six books remained unfinished in 2019, 2020, 2021, and 2022.

Last year, I completed three new picture books. One is in my agent’s hands now and may have potential.

Actually, they all have great potential. Kids would love every one of them, but editors currently disagree. What do they know? They don’t work with kids every day.

My goal for 2023 is to finish the year with three newly completed picture books. This can include books I already began but didn’t finish and/or brand-new ones.

At least one must feature a non-white, non-male protagonist.

9. Write a new solo show.

I’ve outlined a new solo show, and because it uses parts of stories already crafted and told onstage, it’s about half written. I plan to complete the writing (though I don’t actually commit words to a page) in 2023.

Ideally, in the first half of the year.

10. Perform a new solo show.

I’m going to find a theater where I can perform my new solo show for at least one night. The goal, in addition to performing for an audience, is to record the show with the hopes of using it to get the attention of directors and producers who can make things happen.

One has already agreed to take a look.

11. Write a musical.

My friend Kaia and I are writing a musical that we will also perform, even though I cannot sing. She writes the music and lyrics. She and I write the story. My goal was to complete the work on this musical in 2022, but all we managed to accomplish was a rough outline of the show.

It returns as a goal in 2023.

12. Submit at least five Op-Ed pieces to The New York Times for consideration.

A completed goal from the last six years. I’m repeating this goal in 2023.

My dream goal remains to land another column in a magazine, newspaper, or online publication this year, but I’m keeping this goal more reasonable. Write, submit, and hope for the best.

13. Write at least four letters to my father.

I completed this goal in 2022. I’ll be repeating it in 2023.

My father and I have been writing sporadic letters to each other since 2013. Since we speak little, it’s been a great way to get to know a man who disappeared from much of my life at the age of eight. I intend to write to him with the continued hope that he will also write to me.

14. Write 100 letters in 2022.

I wrote 61 letters in 2018, 28 in 2019, 53 in 2020, 114 in 2021, and 201 in 2022.

I’m setting 100 as the goal again. The plan is to write a letter (paper, envelope, and stamp) every three days or so, to students, colleagues, friends, family, and anyone else deserving of praise, gratitude, recognition, scathing retribution, or the like.

It’s a way of making a day a little brighter for another person that appeals to me greatly. The results in some cases have been extraordinary. Remarkable responses and incredible connections.

I can’t recommend this enough.

15. Convert 365 Days of Elysha into a book.

Back in 2019, friend and storyteller Kathryn Gonnerman transformed my blog, Greetings Little One, into six beautiful tomes that the kids adore.

I plan to do the same for “365 Days of Elysha.”

In 2015, I wrote down one lovely observation about Elysha every day for a year, and I presented her with this Word document on our anniversary.

A Word document is nice, but it wasn’t exactly romantic.

I’d like to have this project turned into a book as well. Though I suspect that converting a Word document into a book will be easier, I failed to complete this goal in 2021 and 2022, so I am keeping it on the list for 2023.

I’ve also turned this project over to my production manager, but given her workload, I may need to find another way to complete this goal.

16. Read at least 12 books. 

A completed goal in 2022 (I read a total of 27 books last year) that I will repeat again in 2023.

I’ve noticed that podcasts have been crowding out books, but Stephen King rightfully said, “If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.”

Americans read an average of 12 books per year, but the median number of books read per year is just four, meaning that the blessed folks reading 100 books annually are artificially boosting the average.

I’ll shoot for 12. One per month.

17. Write to at least six authors about a book I love. 

On New Year’s Eve of 2021, I received an email from a woman who read my first novel in middle school and has been following my work ever since. She credited me for helping her fall in love with reading and has just finished writing her first novel. It was a joyous way to end the year.

I decided that I should do the same for authors whose books I adore.

I wrote six letters in 2022, and my goal is to do this at least six times in 2023.

STORYTELLING/SPEAKING CAREER

18. Complete the re-recording of Storyworthy For Business. 

Storyworthy for Business is complete and available for purchase. I’m currently re-recording the lessons contained in the course, improving both the image and sound quality as well as expanding the content.

My goal is to complete these re-recordings in 2023.

19. Record the next Storyworthy course.

I plan to record my next Storyworthy course in 2023 for a new target audience. That audience will be determined by me and my team, who know how to research such things to find the next most lucrative market.

20. Produce a total of six Speak Up storytelling events.

Since we launched Speak Up back in 2013, we have produced a total of 113 shows.

2013: 3
2014: 8
2015: 12
2016: 17
2017: 17
2018: 13
2019: 17
2020: 12
2021: 8
2022: 6

We will likely produce more than six shows in 2022, but six seems like a reasonable goal.

21. Pitch myself to at least three upcoming TEDx events with the hopes of being accepted by one.

In 2015, I delivered a TEDx Talk in the Berkshires that went very well and has been viewed more than 76,000 times.

In 2016, I delivered a TEDx Talk in Natick, MA, that also went very well and has been viewed more than 30,000 times.

Also in 2016, I delivered a TEDx Talk at The Country School in Madison, CT, repeating that first TED Talk that didn’t get recorded well in 2013. I had to hold a microphone, which complicated things a bit, and there was no timer, so I had to rush for fear of going long. It’s been viewed more than 35,000 times, but I’m still not entirely satisfied with the talk. I want to repeat it under optimal circumstances.

In 2017, I delivered a TEDx Talk at the Pomfret School. Again, I had a handheld mic and no timer, and the recording was amateurish at best. Still, I thought it went well, but it’s only been viewed about 800 times.

In 2021, I delivered a TEDx Talk in the Berkshires that went very well and has been viewed 7,500 times.

In 2022, I delivered a TEDx Talk at Cornell University that also went well. The video has yet to appear on the internet.

I’ll be speaking at TEDx UConn in February of 2023.

I’ve also delivered TEDx Talks at the AT&T Conference Center, Boston University, and Western Connecticut State University. None of those talks were recorded or posted online properly, which is always deeply disappointing.

I plan on pitching new talks to at least three conferences in 2023.

22. Attend at least eight Moth events with the intention of telling a story.

My Moth attendance ever since attending my first Moth StorySLAM in 2011 has been:

2011: 4
2012: 9
2013: 19
2014: 19
2015: 31
2016: 31
2017: 20
2018: 15
2019: 22
2020: 15
2021: 12
2022: 18

Note that this represents the number of times I attended a Moth event, including StorySLAMs, GrandSLAMs, Main Stage performances, The Moth Ball, and more. It does not represent the number of times I’ve actually performed.

Sadly, my name does not always get drawn from the hat.

As opportunities to speak and perform at other venues for various organizations have increased, the time I’ve had to dedicate to Moth events has decreased, even though they remain my favorite shows in the world.

Give me a Moth StorySLAM any day.

Attending eight Moth events in 2023 is a low number given my previous record, but my children are getting more involved in activities that I want to be sure to attend, so I want to ensure balance in my life while striving to achieve goals.

23. Win at least one Moth StorySLAM.

Last year my goal was to win one Moth StorySLAM.

I managed to win four slams in eight attempts, including my first in Washington, DC.

Uncertain about how the pandemic would impact live events, I set a lower goal than usual. For the previous five years, the goal was three wins. That had always felt ambitious, but since 2011, I’ve won 58% of the Moth StorySLAMs that I’ve competed in, and that percentage has remained fairly steady over the years.

But given the uncertainty of 2023 regarding my work and home life (and trying like hell to maintain balance), one victory feels like the appropriate goal. I’ll consider any other win icing on the cake.

This goal depends upon the decisions of others (which I try to avoid when setting goals), but competing in StorySLAMs isn’t enough to justify the goal.

I need to win.

24. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

I won one GrandSLAM in 2014.
I won two GrandSLAMs in 2015.
I won one GrandSLAM in 2016.
I failed to win a GrandSLAM in 2017.
I won two GrandSLAMs in 2018.
I failed to win a GrandSLAM in 2019.
I failed to win a GrandSLAM in 2020.
I won one GrandSLAM in 2021.
I won two GrandSLAMs in 2022.

I’ve won 9 GrandSLAMs in 32 attempts for a 28% win rate.

Much harder to win a GrandSLAM with all of those annoyingly excellent storytellers, not to mention the three times I was defeated by stories that I helped find and craft.

Arming my competition. A terrible strategy.

This goal also depends upon the decisions of others (including how quickly my turn in a GrandSLAM comes up) but competing in a Moth GrandSLAM isn’t enough to justify the goal.

Once again, I need to win.

25. Produce at least 24 episodes of our podcast Speak Up Storytelling.

Since launching our podcast in 2018, Elysha and I have produced the following number of episodes:

2018: 30 episodes
2019: 44 episodes
2020: 30 episodes
2021: 14 episodes
2022: 0 episodes

Several factors curtailed our production schedule in 2022, but we are excited to re-launch the podcast in 2023. We aim to produce one per month together, plus one episode cohosted by a special guest or recorded entirely by me. With my production manager, Kaia, now editing the podcast, things should be easier on my end, so this feels much more doable.

26. Perform stand-up at least six times in 2022.

I performed stand-up six times in 2018 and four times in 2019. Thanks to the pandemic, I have not returned to the stage.

This is the year I return. I may even have a friend willing to join me in this endeavor.

27. Pitch three stories to This American Life.

I had a story on This American Life in May of 2014. Since then, I’ve occasionally pitched stories to someone I know who works for the show, and last year, I pitched one story through more formal channels.

This year I plan to pitch the show at least three times.

28. Pitch myself to Marc Maron’s WTF podcast at least three times.

When I list possible publicity opportunities for my publicist, Marc Maron’s WTF has always been at the top of my list. I’ve been listening since his first episode, and I would love to have a conversation with him. I’ve pitched myself to him before, including three times a year for three years, and I’ll do it again, at least three times, in 2023.

29. Send a newsletter to readers at least 50 times. 

My new company will likely make this easy, as newsletters will become part of the marketing for the product, but I’ll continue to send out my weekly newsletter offering insights into storytelling and a peak into my life.

HOME

30. Clear the basement.

My basement was cleaned and cleared at the onset of 2022. It looked great.

Then we had a studio built in the basement, which relocated many things and has once again left the basement in disarray.

I plan to clean and clear the basement once again in 2023.

31. Clean and clear the garage.

The garage is the land of misfit children who take things that are not toys, use them as toys, then never put them back properly. This ends in 2023.

Also, there are things that need to leave the garage forever. Storage boxes, ancient scraps of wood, old lawn chairs, and more. All of it goes away in 2023.

32. Furnish and decorate the studio. 

The basement studio still requires furniture, organization, and art on the walls. It’s coming along, but there is still work left to do.

33. Eliminate clothing not being worn and closet bins.

My closet is organized and neat, but there is definitely clothing that I don’t wear that can be donated. There are also three large bins of the children’s old clothing that need to be eliminated, too.

I plan on completing this task in 2023.

FAMILY/FRIENDS

34. Text or call my brother or sister once per month. 

My brother, sister, and I don’t talk enough. I’m going to speak to either one at least once per week via text or phone call.

35. Take at least one photo of my children every day.

I successful goal from 2022 that returns in 2023.

As I scanned through my photos on a plane ride to Indiana in 2019, I noticed a decline in photos taken of the kids over the years. This is only natural. When a child is born, photos are taken every nine seconds, but as time passes, this burst of photography subsides a bit.

One photo per day, every day when I see the kids, in 2023 is the goal once again.

36. Take at least one photo with Elysha and me each week.

A goal that I failed to complete in 2022 returns in 2023.

Even worse than the decline in photos of the kids is the rarity of photos of just Elysha and me. We need to rectify this as well, so at least once per week, I will take a photograph of just the two of us.

37. Plan a reunion of the Heavy Metal Playhouse.

My friend, Bengi, and I lived in a home that became known as the Heavy Metal Playhouse from 1989-1993. It was four of the best years of my life. Enormous parties, the closest of friendships, and the wildness of youth left an indelible mark on me. While I stay in touch with many of my friends from those days, I have not seen many of them in a long time. We have attempted to plan a reunion in the past without success.

Starting in 2016, I’ve tried to make a reunion happen but failed. 2021 convinced me that a virtual reunion via Zoom might be the best option, given some of our friends are spread out around the country.

We had a reunion scheduled in 2022, but vacations and illness derailed that event. I plan on making it happen once again in 2023.

38. I will not comment – positively or negatively – about the physical appearance of any person save my wife and children in order to reduce the focus on physical appearance in our culture overall.

In 2016, I decided to avoid all negative comments related to a person’s physical appearance.

In 2017 I decided to add positive comments as well (save my wife, children, and in-laws) in an effort to reduce the focus on physical appearance in our culture overall.

I’ve achieved this goal for the past six years. By writing about it, I’ve also convinced at least two dozen other people to adopt the policy as well.

For this reason, I will repeat this goal in 2023, even though it’s now simply become something I do.

39. Surprise Elysha at least six times in 2023.

A completed goal from the last five years that I will repeat in 2023.

40. Play poker at least six times in 2023.

I love poker. I paid for our honeymoon with profits from poker. I made a mortgage payment in 2012 with poker profits when it was still legal online. I am a very good poker player who stopped playing regularly in 2015 as I shifted my time to writing and storytelling.

But over the past few years, I’ve been making a more concerted effort to play.

Six games in 2023 is a reasonable goal, though I failed to achieve this goal in 2022.

41. Spend at least six days with my best friend of more than 30 years.

Bengi and I met in a Milford, MA, McDonald’s back in 1987, and we have been friends ever since. We once lived together (in the aforementioned Heavy Metal Playhouse) and started our DJ business together back in 1996. We have been through a great deal together, but in the last few years, we have seen less of each other even though we live 15 minutes apart. Our interests have shifted away from the things each likes to do, and our families are demanding more of our time, but that’s no excuse for not getting together more often.

Six days is more than reasonable, though I failed to achieve this goal in 2022.

MUSIC

42. Memorize the lyrics to at least five favorite songs. 

A completed goal from 2022 that returns in 2023.

You know those songs that you’ve listened to all your life but never found the time actually to learn the lyrics?

I’m going to rectify this in 2022 by learning the lyrics to a few of my favorites in this category.

43. Learn to play the piano by practicing at least three times a week. 

I completed this goal in 2022, but I don’t feel any closer to being a piano player today than I did a year ago.

Maybe I need lessons from an actual human being rather than the online lessons I’ve been taking

I’m going to give it another year, practicing at least three times a week for at least 20 minutes at a time, in hopes that things (including my left hand) (and I’m left-handed!) finally click.

MISCELLANEOUS PROJECTS

44. Learn the names of every employee who works at my school.

There was a time – years ago – when the number of adults working in my school numbered 50 at most. Today, with teaching assistants, paraprofessionals, and other specialists, that number has grown considerably. As a result, I often walk by people during the workday whose names I do not know.

I plan to rectify this in 2023.

45. Convert our wedding video to a transferable format.

Our wedding video only exists on the ancient Mac that I originally made it on, but I have yet to be able to remove the file from the laptop. It plays on the laptop, but I can’t move it onto another machine or to the cloud.

I’ve been working on this project for three years. I plan to find a way to make this happen in 2023.

46. Memorize five new poems.

A completed goal in 2022 that returns in 2023.

Back in college, I was required to memorize and recite one poem every week for a poetry class, and many of those poems are still locked in my brain today.

I also have several French poems still memorized from French class in high school.

I like having these poems memorized. It’s fun to be able to recite them whenever I please. About ten years ago, on a rainy day at Camp Jewell, we conducted Theater Olympics for our 100 or so fifth graders. One of the events was “Unknown Talent Show” where the teachers had to perform a talent that no one knew they possessed.

I recited French poetry to my principal, who stood on a chair with a mop over his head.

Memorization is also an excellent way to preserve long-term brain health.

My goal this year is to memorize five new poems while maintaining the memorization of the poems I have always committed to memory.

47. Write to at least three colleges about why they should hire me.

A failed goal from 2022 that returns in 2023.

I should be teaching teachers in college. Specifically, I would like to teach four classes:

Engaging and motivating students through funEffective classroom managementEstablishing and maintaining positive relationships with parentsTeaching writing in the way that actual writers write

As far as I can tell, none of these classes exist in a teacher’s preparatory program today, despite the fact that discipline, motivation, and a strong parent-teacher partnership are three of the most important things a teacher can do to guarantee a successful learning environment. Philosophy, pedagogy, and curriculum are truly irrelevant without them.

In 2023, I am going to write to the administrators of local colleges with teacher prep programs offering my services. More hubris, I know. But I would also be damn good at this, and it’s not happening enough in colleges these days.

48. Complete my Eagle Scout project.

Back in 1988, I was 17 year-old-Boy Scout preparing to complete my Eagle Scout service project so I could earn the rank that I had dreamed about for most of my childhood. In truth, I was qualified to earn my Eagle rank almost two years before, having earned the required merit badges and more, but my service project had been sitting on the back burner, waiting to be completed.

I needed a parent or two to light a fire under my butt and support me in this endeavor, but I wasn’t graced with that level of parental involvement at the time.

My plan was to plant trees and clean up a cemetery in my hometown of Blackstone, MA. My troop had planted trees in that same cemetery about five years earlier, but those trees had died. I wanted to replace them and complete the work that we had originally promised.

Then, on December 23, 1988, I was in a car accident that nearly killed me. As a result of the accident, I was in a full-length leg cast for three months and required an enormous amount of healing and recovery. With just three months left until I turned 18 (the deadline to complete an Eagle service project), my parents requested an extension, and it was denied.

Though upon reflection, it occurs to me that perhaps that extension was never even requested.

Either way, my childhood dream of becoming an Eagle Scout was over. It’s one of my life’s greatest regrets.

Maybe the greatest.

But I recently decided that it would be good to complete that Eagle Scout project even though it won’t come with my much-desired Eagle Scout rank.

It feels right. Maybe I’ll feel a little better about the past.

I’ve planned on doing this for the last two years. Now that Charlie is a Scout, it feels much more doable in 2023.

49. Post my progress regarding these resolutions on this blog and social media on the first day of every month.

Resolution update: 2022 in review

At the end of each month, and now at the end of the year, I report on the progress of my New Year’s resolutions (or lack thereof).

Overall, I completed 35 of my 51 goals for a completion percentage of 69%.

This is higher than my 13-year average of 54.7% and my second-highest success rate ever.

Here are the previous year’s results.

2010: 44%
2011: 62%
2012: 30%
2013: 60%
2014: 60%
2015: 59%
2016: 59%
2017: 71%
2018: 50%
2019: 48%
2020: 54%
2021: 45%
2022: 69%

Some of my goals were missed for good reasons.

My writing a memoir was placed on the back burner when my agent told me that the memoir market is not exactly sizzling at the moment for non-celebrity types like me.

My screenplay is very much waiting for my writing partner to complete it, though I rightfully could’ve started writing another one.

Others were very much my fault, and some were downright disappointing.

Failing to take a weekly photo of Elysha and myself, failing to spend adequate time with my friend, Bengi, and failing to write to colleges (all for the second year in a row) immediately come to mind.

Elysha and I also failed to record a single episode of our Speak Up Storytelling podcast in 2022, which not only disappointed fans but certainly impacted sales for my new business.

I only played two games of poker in 2022. Granted, more than six games were scheduled but canceled when I failed to find enough players for each game, but I love poker. I need to find new blood if my friends are going to fail me routinely.

My failure to transfer our wedding video off an ancient computer and my failure to produce a hardcopy of “365 Days of Elysha,” both for the third year in a row, are deeply disappointing. I had 365 days to complete each task but failed miserably.

Nevertheless, 2022 was an excellent year in terms of overall goal completion. Here are my results through the end of 2022.

PERSONAL FITNESS

1. Don’t die.

Done.

Another year spent avoiding death. I began 2022 in isolation with COVID-19 and recovering from hernia surgery, but it was smooth sailing after I recovered.

2. Lose 20 pounds.

Failed.

I lost eight pounds in December, entirely due to illness at the end of the year. I dropped all eight pounds in a week as a result of a complete loss of appetite and constant fever.

Thanks in part to a virus, I lost 12 pounds in 2022.

3. Do at least 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, and three one-minute planks for five days a week.

Done.

4. Cycle for at least five days every week.

Done.

5. Establish my golfing handicap, then lower that handicap by at least 2. 

Done.

My handicap established at the beginning of 2022 was a whopping 35.4.

My handicap at the end of 2022 is a lackluster but much improved 17.6.

WRITING CAREER

6. Complete my seventh novel.

Done.

“Cardboard Knight” – my first middle-grade novel – is complete.

7. Prepare “Storyworthy 2” or update “Storyworthy” or both for a potential sale. 

Done.

The follow-up to “Storyworthy” – “You Are Storyworthy” – won’t be my next nonfiction title, but it’s written. I’ll be writing a different storytelling book first for strategic reasons.

Still, the book is done and will eventually be published.

8. Write/complete at least three new picture books, including one with a female, non-white protagonist and one protagonist who is not neurotypical.

Done.

One picture book is completed and in the hands of my agent. We will be looking for a publisher shortly.

“Who Put the Baby in a Tree?” and a still-untitled picture book are also finished. I’ll need to revise both before sending them over to my agent, but solid first drafts are complete.

9. Complete a memoir.

Failed.

I had two memoirs in progress in 2022:

One about the two-year period when I was arrested, jailed, and tried for a crime I did not commit, which also led to homelessness then a pantry off a kitchen that I shared with a goat. I was also the victim of a horrific robbery at that time that left me with a lifetime of PTSD, amongst other awfulness. Also participation in an underground arm wrestling and gambling ring.

The second is about the two-year period in which a lowly band of anonymous cowards attempted to destroy my teaching career.

My agent and I have decided to put these books on the back burner. Memoir is a tougher sell right now unless you’re a legitimate celebrity or the inventor of a bionic eye.

Both ideas will make excellent books, but neither was completed in 2022.

10. Write a new screenplay.

Failed.

My plan in 2022 was to write a screenplay with a partner, but his schedule prevented that from happening. I could’ve written a screenplay on my own, of course (as I’ve done in the past), but I did not.

11. Write a solo show.

Failed.

This goal took an interesting turn in 2022.

I started the year working on a solo show based on my arrest and trial for a crime I didn’t commit. Though I continue to work on that show, I’ve started working with a director on a new show, and we’ve made substantial progress.

I’ve already inquired about the availability of local theaters in early 2023 and received some possible interest.

I also had a new idea:

List all the things I’ve ever stolen on a chalkboard and then tell a story about each one. Cleverly construct a narrative that encompasses all the stories in a larger story of my life.

I’ve been structuring that idea, too.

Substantial progress was made in 2022 on several fronts, but none of these shows are complete.

12. Write a musical.

Failed.

Writing commenced in 2022, but it’s still almost entirely in outline form, so a lot of work is still needed.

13. Submit at least five Op-Ed pieces to The New York Times for consideration.

Done.

Seven essays were submitted to the New York Times in 2022.

14. Write at least four letters to my father.

Done.

Two letters were sent in December to finish off the year. I wouldn’t have sent those letters had I not set this goal. Just another reason why goal setting is so damn important.

15. Write 100 letters in 2022.

Done.

A total of 17 letters were written in December, including letters to students, my own children, authors, Nancy Pelosi, and a handful of creative souls.

A total of 201 letters were written in 2022. By far the most letters I have ever written in a single year.

16. Convert 365 Days of Elysha into a book.

Failed.

I’ve passed this project on to my production manager, but she’s busy with other things at the moment.

17. Read at least 12 books. 

Done.

I read 27 books in 2022.

In December, I read “Foreverland” by Heather Havrilesky

I’m currently reading books:

“Fairy Tale” by Stephen King
“From Saturday Night to Sunday Night” by Dick Ebersol
“Wow. No Thank You” by Samantha Irby
“Think Like a Monk” by Jay Shetty
“The Groucho Letters”

My list of completed books now includes the following:

“Foreverland”
“We Don’t Need Roads: The Making of the Back to the Future Trilogy”
“Confidence Man”
“Telephone”
“I’d Like to Play Alone, Please”
“Revolutionary Summer: The Birth of American Independence”
“The Nineties”
“The Presentation Secrets of Steve Jobs”
“Nice Try”
“The World’s Worst Assistant”
“Adventures in the Screen Trade”
“I’ll Show Myself Out”
“How to Tell a Story”
“The Lightning Thief”
“Contagious”
“In the Great Green Room: The Brilliant and Bold Life of Margaret Wise Brown”
“It’s So Easy”
“Poetics”
“The Office BFFs”
“Making Numbers Count”
“The Passion Economy”
“Empire of Pain”
“The Anthropocene Reviewed”
“Liar’s Poker”
“Matrix”
“Coreyography”

18. Write to at least six authors about a book that I especially like. 

Three letters were written and sent in December to Amy Edmondson, Chuck Klosterman, and Chip Heath.

Six letters were written in 2022.

STORYTELLING/SPEAKING CAREER

19. Complete the recordings for my new business for at least two target consumers. 

Failed.

I completed the recordings for only one target customer (and I’m re-recording those videos).

20. Engage with LinkedIn at least once per week.

Done.

LinkedIn has become a place where I regularly post content and find new customers and business partners.

21. Produce a total of six Speak Up storytelling events.

Done!

Six shows were produced in 2022.

22. Pitch myself to at least three upcoming TEDx events with the hopes of being accepted by one.

Done.

I pitched to a total of five TEDx conferences in 2022.

Two have passed on my pitches. I await word on two others. TEDx UConn has accepted me for their conference in February 2023.

23. Attend at least six Moth events with the intention of telling a story.

Done. Two Moth events attended in December.

A total of 18 Moth events were attended in 2022.

24. Win at least one Moth StorySLAM.

Done!

FOUR TIMES!

I won a StorySLAM in New York in February.

I won a StorySLAM in Boston in June.

I won a Moth StorySLAM in Washington, DC in August.

I won a Moth StorySLAM in Boston in December.

25. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.x

Done.

TWICE!

I won Boston’s Moth GrandSLAM at The Wilbur on April 26.

I won New York City’s Moth GrandSLAM at The Music Hall of Williamsburg on May 16.

It was my eighth and ninth GrandSLAM championships.

26. Produce at least 12 episodes of our podcast Speak Up Storytelling.

Fail.

We did not record a single episode in 2022.

27. Convert my YouTube channel into an actual channel. 

Done.

My personal channel is re-designed and curated. My team has also launched a second YouTube channel for our new business.

28. Perform stand-up at least three times in 2022.

Fail.

I did not return to the stand-up stage in 2022.

29. Pitch a story to This American Life.

Done.

I pitched one story to This American Life in April.

30. Pitch myself to Marc Maron’s WTF podcast at least three times.

Done.

Three pitches were made in 2022. No response.

31. Send a newsletter to readers at least 25 times (every other week). 

Done.

Four newsletters were sent in December. A total of 33 newsletters were sent in 2022.

HOME

32. Clear the basement.

Done.

The basement was later upended when I had a studio built in a significant portion of the basement, so this goal will need to return to my 2023 list because work is once again required.

33. Organize the children’s books.

Done.

Books were removed from the kids’ bedrooms and divided into three bunches:

Keep in rotation for kids/students (now been returned to shelves).Store for future grandchildren (now stored in the basement)Give away to those in need (now donated).FAMILY/FRIENDS

34. Text or call my brother or sister once per month. 

Done.

35. Take at least one photo of my children every day.

Done.

36. Take at least one photo with Elysha and me each week.

Failed.

I took photos of Elysha and me in less than half of the weeks in 2022.

37. Plan a reunion of the Heavy Metal Playhouse.

Failed.

A date had been chosen for August, but because of vacations, I need to reschedule.

38. I will not comment, positively or negatively, about the physical appearance of any person save my wife and children, in 2022 in an effort to reduce the focus on physical appearance in our culture overall.

Done.

This has become nearly automatic for me.

 39. Compliment one person every day on a topic unrelated to physical appearance. 

Done.

Upon reflection, it turns out that I do this far more often than I realized. Between my students, my clients, and my wife and kids, it’s almost automatic.

40. Surprise Elysha at least six times in 2022.

Done.

I surprised Elysha 23 times in 2022.

In December:

I surprised Elysha by dropping off her phone and a card at her school after she forgot the phone at home. Doesn’t sound like much, but after finding the phone on her desk, she texts:

“Honey, you’re the best and some kind of magician. I love you sooo much.”

So a legitimate surprise.

I also mailed a letter to every one of her students to open in class. I received a lovely collection of kindergarten responses.

The list of surprises in 2022 included:

Tickets to “The Old Man in the Pool” with Mike BirbigliaA well-timed Starbucks caramel macchiatoPusheen Club box, filled with an assortment of movie-themed Pusheen gifts.A complete set of Smith College chinaA card on her dashboard following a less-than-ideal April vacation.A surprise visit to her classroom on an especially challenging day to bring her a cupcake.A card mailed to her school with thoughts of encouragement and love, written by “The Universe.”A planned weekend getaway (later this summer) for her and a friend to Water’s Edge, a resort and spa on the coast of Connecticut.Flowers on Mexican Mother’s DayPusheen Club box, featuring garden-themed Pusheen gifts.A signed first edition of “From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler” by E.L. KonigsburgTickets to Hamilton on BroadwayPusheen Club box, featuring school-themed Pusheen gifts.A box of small gifts presented on the night before the first day of schoolTickets to Beetlejuice on Broadway for NovemberTickets to the CT Forum to see Sonia Sotomayor in NovemberCupcakes for our Labor Day “end of summer” dinner

41. Play poker at least six times in 2022.

Fail.

Just two games in total in 2022.

42. Spend at least six days with my best friend of more than 30 years.

Fail.

Four days spent together in 2022.

NEW PROJECTS

43. Create an emergency preparedness kit for each car.

Done! Emergency preparedness kits were purchased. Several items were added to each.

44. Memorize the lyrics to at least five favorite songs.

Done.

Songs I’ve memorized this year include:

“Fat Bottomed Girls
“Come On Eileen”
“Mr. Blue Sky”
“Come Sail Away”
“Come a Little Closer”
“More Than a Feeling”

45. Learn to play the piano by practicing at least three times a week. 

Done.

46. Convert our wedding video to a transferable format.

Failed.

Another task passed off to my production manager. Apparently, this is trickier than previously expected. I need to find a professional to make this happen.

47. Memorize five new poems.

Done.

Memorized:

“Fire and Ice” by Robert Frost“The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost“This Is Just to Say” by William Carlos William“I’m Nobody. Who Are You” by Emily Dickinson“Harlem” by Langston Hughes

48. Write to at least three colleges about why they should hire me.

Failed.

49. Understand Instagram better.

Done! My social media team is now running parts of my Instagram, and I understand what they are doing, how they did it, and why they are doing it.

50. Complete my Eagle Scout project.

Failed.

I’ve reached out to a local church and the town of Newington in an effort to move the project from Blackstone, MA to Newington, CT and perhaps involve Charlie’s Boy Scout troop. I have yet to connect with the person in charge because even small-town government moves slowly.

51. Post my progress in terms of these resolutions on this blog and social media on the first day of every month.

Done.

Expand your life

When stumped by a life choice in 2023, let me suggest you choose “expansion” over happiness.

Jungian therapist James Hollis argues that major personal decisions should be made not by asking, “Will this make me happy?” but by “Will this choice enlarge me or diminish me?”

We’re terrible at predicting what will make us happy. It’s almost ridiculous to try. It’s why, like Hollis, I endorse saying yes to every possibility afforded to us. To believe that you know what a new opportunity might yield is nothing more than ridiculous, blind hubris.

I was recently told by a 19-year-old woman that she didn’t need to learn to jump rope because she was never going to need that skill in the future.

Just imagine the amount of hubris required to believe that you can accurately predict your future preferences and needs at the age of 19.

It’s astounding.

You simply never know.

When given the choice, expand your life. Add to it whenever possible. Try new stuff.

When I took a stage in New York City in July of 2011 intending to tell one story for The Moth, I never could’ve guessed that my first victory would eventually lead to another 100 Moth StorySLAMs, 58 victories, and 9 GrandSLAM championships.

More importantly, I never imagined it would afford me the opportunity to perform on stages around the world.

I could never have imagined that the decision to tell one story on one stage would one day result in me consulting with Fortune 100 companies, universities and school districts, attorneys, clergy members, filmmakers, public speakers, and more. Writing and publishing books on storytelling. Building a new storytelling business with partners from around the world.

I could never have predicted that one night on a New York stage would lead to the launch of Speak Up. I could never have envisioned that Elysha and I would produce more than 100 live shows throughout New England, create a podcast that receives tens of thousands of downloads every month, and build a worldwide audience. I didn’t have the foggiest notion about the number of fascinating people we would meet and the new friends we would make while running our company.

It wouldn’t have seemed possible that we would have a United States Senator on the Speak Up stage someday.

Choose expansion over happiness whenever possible. Add things to your life whenever possible and watch what happens.

When my friend asked me to be a wedding DJ with him – something I did not want to do – I chose expansion over happiness, and it made all the difference.

When my friends asked me to play golf – a game I had always thought of as stupid, boring, and elitist – I chose expansion over happiness, and it has made all the difference.

When my friend asked me to write a musical with him – something I absolutely did not want to do – I chose expansion over happiness, and it has made all the difference.

When Elysha told me that she wanted two new cats – something I never wanted again after the death of our dog and cats – I chose expansion over happiness, and it made all the difference.

When Elysha told me that she wanted another child – when I thought one was just fine – I chose expansion over happiness, and it has made all the difference.

Choose expansion whenever possible.

A fuller life is almost always a happier life.

Happy New Year.

Never Have I Ever

I posted “Never Have I Ever” lists in 2014 and 2018.

Four years later, it’s time again.

My “Never Have I Ever” list.

I revisited the list from 2018 to see how much is still true, and it turns out that all 12 are still true today, and I’ve managed to add three more to the list.

Never purchased or used an illegal drug of any kindNever purchased a lottery ticketNever tasted coffeeNever smoked a cigaretteNever bruisedNever slept past 9:00 AMNever swore in the presence of my parentsNever shopliftedNever watched an episode of The Real Housewives, The Bachelor, or anything involving a KardashianNever owned an umbrellaNever used an emojiNever eaten a saladNever taken a selfieNever worn a piece of jewelry (except for my wedding ring, which I don’t wear)Never owned or worn a watch (except for a golf watch designed to provide distance to the hole)

Notes:

I’ve never purchased or used an illegal drug of any kind because I was keenly aware at 18 that I was on my own, without any familial safety net. I knew I couldn’t afford to get into the kinds of trouble that drugs can cause because I had no one to bail me out.

I was on my own.

I also avoided drugs (and alcohol) throughout high school, recognizing their dangers and frankly never feeling the need to experiment.

For the record, Elysha never drank alcohol in high school either, so when people tell us that “kids are going to drink, no matter what we say or do,” we scoff.

If we could resist, it is possible for others to do the same.
_____________________

Certain people are obsessed with getting me to try coffee. I resist, of course. I purposely decided to avoid coffee at an early age after seeing people “need their coffee” every morning and abhorring its complexity. The multitude of preferred temperatures, brews, flavors, sweeteners, brands, and creams make this drink just too complicated for a person who strives for simplicity.

Also, I just don’t like hot beverages of any kind.
_____________________

I can’t explain why I don’t bruise, but I don’t. I’ve been with Elysha for nearly 20 years, and she’s never seen a bruise on my body even after plenty of accidents and major surgery. When I was 17, I nearly died in a head-on automobile collision that sent my head through the windshield and tore my legs open to the bone, but still no bruises.

It’s a stupid superpower, useful for nothing.
_____________________

My refusal to use an emoji is stupid. It’s gone from something I thought silly years ago to me just being a jerk now. They’re cute and easy to use today, and they’ve actually become quite useful in communication, but I resist only because I’m a jerk.
_____________________

I define a “selfie” as a photo taken of yourself by yourself. I’ve never taken one of these photos. I’ve taken photos of myself with other people, and I’ve appeared in many photos taken by someone who also appears in the photo, but I’ve never taken a photo of me by me.

This also started because I thought selfies were ridiculous (and for a while, the selfie stick confirmed this), but honestly, I never find myself in a moment when I want or need a photo of just myself.
_____________________

I don’t wear my wedding ring because it’s steel and can’t be resized. I lost about 50 pounds after Elysha became pregnant with Clara, and the ring now slides off my finger easily.

I should get a new one. I know.

Patrol flags past and present

When I was 13 years old, I was elected patrol leader by my fellow Boy Scouts. In addition to my many other responsibilities, I was required to choose a name for our patrol and create a flag.

I chose The Gumby Patrol.

Gumby was a claymation character featured in a television series that ran from 1953-1969 who experienced a revival of sorts in the 1980s after Eddie Murphy’s famous Gumby sketches on Saturday Night Live. Reruns of the original show returned briefly to television, and a new Gumby show was also aired.

Gumby merchandise, for a brief moment, was everywhere. Clothing. Toys. Lunchboxes. The works.

I fell in love with Gumby during that revival. I watched the original show. Memorized the theme song. Even bought a couple of tee shirts.

Naming my new patrol after Gumby seemed like a no-brainer.

It really wasn’t.

At the time (and even today), most Boy Scouts named their patrols after imposing animals like bears, hawks, tigers, and eagles, usually accompanied by an equally imposing adjective.

Terrible Tiger Patrol
Angry Bear Patrol
Steely-Eyed Eagle Patrol

The choice of name typically attempted to indicate the toughness of the Scouts and their likelihood of success in the challenges that lie ahead.

I chose to do something very different in choosing my name. The Gumby Patrol was far less imposing than a traditional patrol name, a little bit silly, and slightly ironic, as were so many of my choices when I was young.

When I could do something differently, I usually did.

While my fellow Scouts supported the idea, the name caused my Scoutmaster to roll his eyes upon hearing it.

Making my Scoutmaster’s eyes roll was one of my finest talents.

But that flag, almost 40 years old, still exists today, ribbons and all. It somehow survived my many moves and a brief bout with homelessness and had been waiting in the basement for the day, earlier this month, when Charlie became responsible for helping to name his new Scout patrol and making a flag of his own.

In keeping with family tradition, Charlie also avoided a traditionally imposing name, going instead with Exploding Turtle Patrol.

Not exactly a fictional clay creature with a pony pal named Pokie, but not too far off, either.

Unlike my flag, which was made from cloth and a black marker, Charlie’s flag is far more elaborate, with sewn pieces of fabric and fancy letters.

Still, both flags are leaning together in a corner of our living room right now, another reminder of how some things really do come full circle in life.

Our engagement anniversary

Today is Elysha and my engagement anniversary!

Eighteen years ago today, I proposed marriage to the woman I love, and she miraculously accepted.

Kind of.

Happily, the day of our engagement remains clear in my memory, partly because it was such a perfect day and partly because when we arrived home that night, I immediately wrote down everything I could remember from that day so I would never forget it.

Here is what I wrote:

On December 28, 2004, I asked my wife to marry me. My goal was to propose in a way that she would never forget.

Here is the story:

Elysha’s favorite room in the world is the main room in Grand Central Terminal in New York City. She adores everything about the room – the iconic clock, the constellation-filled ceiling, the architecture, and its history. This, in combination with the likelihood that it will remain standing for a long, long time, made it the perfect location for the proposal.

I also wanted the proposal to be a complete surprise, so I chose December 28, right in between Christmas and New Year’s Day and less than two weeks before her birthday. I figured that if Elysha was suspecting a proposal, she might expect it to happen on Christmas, New Year’s Eve, or her birthday, so deliberately avoiding those three days would increase the chance of surprise.

Elysha had also told me months prior that no one had ever thrown her a surprise party, and she hinted that she would like me to throw one for her someday. So I told her that I would plan a surprise party for her very next birthday and would still manage to surprise her despite the forewarning.

She doubted me.

My plan was simple:

After she agreed to marry me, I’d tell Elysha that the marriage proposal counted as her surprise party. Ten days after the proposal, I’d surprise her again with a birthday party that I was already planning at the home of friends. So in the midst of planning a marriage proposal, I was also planning her surprise birthday party as well.

It was a busy time for me.

It worked, by the way. We arrived at the home of our friends, Justine and Charles, on her birthday for what Elysha thought would be a simple dinner for four. She managed to walk halfway into a room filled with people before even noticing them. When we shouted, “Surprise!” she was most definitely surprised.

But before all of that, I needed to execute the perfect engagement.

First, I needed a reason to be in New York City on the day of the proposal, so I enlisted the support of Elysha’s sister, Emily, who helped me tremendously. Two weeks before the proposal, Emily called and asked us to come into the city that day. She also arranged for a luncheon at Ruby Foos following the engagement.

My plan was to propose to Elysha on the top steps of Grand Central, overlooking the famous clock and the throng of holiday shoppers and tourists that were sure to be jamming the place that day. Embedded within that mass of travelers and holiday shoppers would be our friends and family, remaining hidden amongst the crowd in order to watch the proposal and then surprise Elysha immediately thereafter.

This required a lot of coordination. Emily and our friend, Cindy, were instrumental in this task. First, I had to get word to everyone who I wanted to invite, making sure that they maintained absolute secrecy from anyone not invited until after the proposal. We had to arrange for these people (22 in all) to be on a train from New Haven prior to the train that Elysha and I would be traveling on, and we also had to ensure that they would be out of the New Haven terminal before Elysha and I arrived.

We also had people living in New York City who were coming in for the proposal, as well as one family who was on their way home from Washington, DC, who would be stopping at Grand Central to join us. Coordinating the timing and placement of these people in the terminal was quite a challenge, particularly in 2004, when texting on a cell phone was still somewhere in the future.

In order to purchase the engagement ring, I assembled a committee of four of Elysha’s friends. While she was in an after-school meeting at work, the committee convened in the classroom of one of these friends. While I kept a watchful eye on the hallway, these women went online to choose the perfect ring based on the specifications I had gleaned from Elysha over the previous year and their own knowledge of her.

Once they were all in agreement, they purchased the ring and had a shipped to the home of another colleague for safekeeping.

Delegation, people. Never underestimate it.

All was in place when Elysha and I left the house on the morning of December 28, 2004. Plans were finalized, reservations for lunch were set, and the diamond was stuffed deep into my coat pocket.

Of course, nothing ever goes perfectly.

About 15 minutes from the station, Cindy called. While I pretended to be speaking to my mother, Cindy informed me that my friend, Jeff, was running late (almost certainly because of his wife) and might still be in the New Haven terminal when Elysha and I arrived. I purposely took a wrong turn off the exit to add time to our trip and was immediately berated by Elysha for doing so.

Upon arriving at the New Haven terminal, I discovered that MetroNorth had unexpectedly added another train to their schedule: an express train that would put us into New York just minutes behind the train that our friends were already riding. Elysha saw the earlier train on the schedule and suggested that we take it.

This was not good.

I knew that Cindy and Emily would need time to position everyone in the terminal, and a few minutes might not be enough. Thinking fast, I explained to Elysha that Emily was expecting us on the later train, and since we had time to kill, we could get some breakfast and relax for once in our lives since we were usually sprinting to make every train we had ever taken.

She agreed, and the potential disaster was averted.

Trouble raised its ugly head again about halfway to New York when a train in front of us broke down, forcing our train back to Bridgeport in order to switch tracks. In all, our trip was extended by 45 minutes, which was fine for me but began driving Elysha batty. The last thing I wanted prior to my proposal was a frustrated future fiancée staring me in the face. Thankfully a New York magazine crossword kept her busy enough to remain sane, or else things might have been ugly.

As she attempted to decipher the clues to the crossword, I went to the bathroom in order to call Cindy and warn her of the delay.

The last bit of trouble occurred upon arriving at the station. Because we had been switched to an alternate track, our train arrived somewhere in the bowels of Grand Central, on a track that Elysha and I had never seen before. Our friends and family had been positioned with the expectation that we would be arriving at a specific track number, and now I had no idea where we might emerge into the station. And because we were deep underground when we arrived, I had no cell phone service with which to warn Cindy.

All she knew was that Elysha was wearing an orange coat.

Thankfully that turned out to be enough.

As we emerged into the station, I grabbed Elysha’s hand and pulled her toward the stairs, aware that our friends could be anywhere at this point. I told her that I wanted to show her something. She rolled her eyes and followed. Someone in our group of friends spotted the orange coat climbing the stairs, and everyone was watching as we reached the precipice. At the top of the stairs, amongst a throng of people, I stopped Elysha and turned her toward me.

The dialogue that took place was as follows:

Me: I chose this place because I know it’s your favorite room in the world.

Elysha: Huh?

Me: And I wanted a place that would always be here so that someday we could show our kids, so…could you hold my book?

I had a book in my hand and wasn’t smooth enough to drop it to the floor. Elysha took the book, and I removed the ring box from my pocket. Just then, a police officer stepped between us.

Police officer: Please keep moving. You can’t block the stairway.

A second later, she saw the ring box and smiled.

Police officer: Oh… (stepping back)

Me: (Dropping to one knee)

Elysha: (Starting to cry)

Me: (On one knee) Elysha Green, I love you with all my heart and want to spend the rest of my life with you. (Opening the ring box) Will you marry me?

Elysha: (Starting crying and reaching out to hug me, never answering the question)

Screams erupted in the distance. It was our friends, shouting with joy, then immediately surrounded by National Guard soldiers.

Me: That’s all of our friends screaming, honey…

Elysha: (Continuing to cry)

The country was on threat level ultra-bad red that day, so the military was on high alert. When two dozen people erupted into cheers, the soldiers sprung into action, immediately surrounding the source of the disturbance. After assuring the National Guard that they weren’t preparing to commit an act of terrorism, our friends began racing up the stairs, with the principal of our school, Plato Karafelis (who would officiate our wedding two years later), in the lead, shouting and pumping his fist.

Elysha: Is that Plato?

Then a moment later…

Elysha: Oh my God. Where did you all come from?

The rest of the day was perfect. After the proposal, we all enjoyed lunch at Ruby Foos and then made our way down to Rockefeller Center to check out the tree and have our photo taken beneath it. Snow was lightly falling, the streets were abuzz with holiday shoppers, and things could not have been more beautiful.

It was a perfect ending to a perfect day.

Elysha, however, has yet to answer my question.

This past summer, I finally made kept that promise by bringing Charlie to the very spot where I had proposed to Elysha 18 years earlier. He stood on the spot overlooking Grand Central and said, “Good choice, Dad.”

Brouse Rule of Sleeping

On Christmas Eve, Charlie said that he was worried that he might be unable to sleep.

“Too excited,” he said.

“You must follow the Brouse Rule of Sleeping,” I told him. “You know the rule. Right?”

He did.

The Brouse Rule of Sleeping was bestowed upon me a few years ago by my friend and former colleague, Steve Brouse, while taking care of students overnight at Camp Jewell, a YMCA camp in northern Connecticut. I had been bringing students to this camp for two decades, but it was Steve’s first time.

During a meeting with the boys prior to sending them off to bed, a student asked, “What f I can’t fall asleep?”

Steve jumped in. “You either sleep or you pretend to sleep. Those are your only two options.”

Sleep or pretend to sleep.

Brilliant.

Practical. Specific. Unarguable. Best of all, this rule increases the chances of the child falling asleep while doing nothing to jeopardize the sleep of those around him.

I began using this rule every year until the pandemic hit, preventing us from returning to Camp Jewell.

I also brought the rule home to my kids.

In fairness, Charlie ended up in a sleeping bag on our floor on Christmas Eve. Even with the Brouse Rule in effect, he could not sleep and was anxious about spending the whole night awake and alone. We would never allow him to sleep in our bed, of course, but a sleeping bag on the floor is acceptable in circumstances such as these.

Despite the uncomfortable floor, he was out like a light.

Side note:

Camp Jewell is open once again, but as is the case so often, administrators never let a good crisis go to waste, so we have yet to return to a place where we had been bringing students for almost 50 years.

Just easier, I suspect, to make the trip quietly go away than muster the time and resources required to return an important and vital tradition to our students, many of whom have never been away from home, never been hiking in a forest, and never had the opportunity to discover the confidence and strength that comes from doing something new, hard, and maybe a little bit scary.

It infuriates me.

When I retire from teaching someday, it will be because of shortsighted, cowardly decisions like these.

Christmas morning thrills

We took a lot of photos on Christmas, but this dark, grainy, difficult-to-discern photo might be my favorite.

After waiting for more than an hour for Elysha to wake up and come downstairs to open presents, Clara and Charlie were finally released from their perch on the stairs and charged into the living room toward the Christmas tree.

The excitement in this photo is palpable.

It’s what I remember best from Christmas morning as a child:

Not the actual gifts themselves, but the anticipation and excitement just before the wrapping started flying.

That has always been the best part for me.