Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 107

Best compliment a storyteller can receive

Someone sent me this message about a story I have posted on my YouTube channel:

“Love this story. Didn’t know where it was going but was with you every moment. Great ending!”

I cannot imagine a better compliment for a storyteller.

There are lots of things that go into crafting and telling a great story. A multitude of things, really, but if I could choose just one thing to get right, it would be this:

My audience was trapped in a constant state of wonder, suspense, and surprise that ultimately led them to the perfect ending.

I want to grab an audience’s attention early on. I want them to laugh. I want them to cry. I want to hear a gasp or two somewhere along the way. Maybe even a groan. I want to describe things with striking clarity and the fewest words possible. I want my story to connect and resonate with an audience. I want to be authentic and vulnerable. I want people to be thinking about my story long after I’ve finished speaking. I want my story to change the way they see themselves or the world. I want to deploy an escalating series of stakes that maintain tension. I want the dialogue to be crisp. I want my word choice to be specific and clear. I want to pace the story well. Structure it effectively. Include ideal anecdotes. Choose the right chronology. Connect emotionally with the story as I tell it. I want to make good use of volume and tone. Pause at just the right moments. Remember the damn thing.

All of this and so much more.

But if I could choose just one thing to get right, give me “Didn’t know where it was going but was with you every moment” every time.

None of the rest is relevant if your audience isn’t hanging on your every word. Nothing matters if your audience has stopped caring. You can be vulnerable and hilarious and crafty beyond measure, but if they aren’t paying attention, then you might as well stop talking.

Everything flows from your ability to hold an audience’s attention through wonder, suspense, and surprise and the audience’s subsequent desire to listen to you speak.

Make that your first, last, and most important goal.

My surprisingly numerous super powers

Here is a list of my superpowers. I may have more superpowers than these, of course, but I am not yet aware of them.

I’ve vomited just twice in my life:

Once on the Music Express at Rocky Point Amusement Park in 1982, and once in 2007 when a stomach bug – the only one I’ve ever had in my life – destroyed me for a day.

But other than those two moments of weakness, possibly associated with a kryptonite-like substance, I don’t throw up.

This is more unlikely than you might think. I drank an enormous amount of alcohol from the ages of 19-22, yet I’ve never had a hangover. In fact, after drinking enormous amounts of alcohol, I would awaken the next morning feeling fantastic.

I was fairly intolerable.

Despite this, I rarely drink nowadays. Wedding toasts and other celebratory moments are the only moments when I might drink a glass of champagne. I have friends who say I’m wasting my talent – superpower – by not drinking more often. But alcohol has lost its luster for me.

It’s also a far healthier choice to avoid it altogether.

Even better, not drinking simplifies my life. No longer do I need to linger over wine lists, keep a variety of alcohol in my home, or listen as some server describes their signature drink.

Best of all, I don’t have to talk about alcohol, which is a boring and repetitive topic of conversation but also one that drinkers engage in constantly.

These days, I drink Diet Coke, water, orange, apple juice, lemonade, and more recently, a lot of carbonated water. I’ve shifted quite a bit of my Diet Coke consumption to carbonated water. But fear not. I would never give up Diet Coke completely lest I rid myself of all vices and silence the soulless nags who feel the need to comment on the nutritional choices of others.

Oftentimes from a persistently sedentary position.

But I digress. Back to my superpowers.

I have also never bruised. Not once. Despite having been injured more than anyone I know, including a car accident that sent me through a windshield headfirst and left me dead for a few moments, I escaped without a single bruise.

The nurses thought I was a freak of nature.

I was punched in the face and many other body parts many times as a teenager, and I did my share of punching as well, yet the result of these fights was never a bruise on my body.

Elysha and I have been married for 16 years and have been together for almost 19 years, and she has never seen a single bruise on my body. By contrast, Elysha can bump into a throw pillow and find herself with an enormous bruise the next day.

I have yet to find a use for this superpower, but it’s super!

I can also hold my breath for an exceedingly long time. So long, in fact, that I have frightened Elysha and others on many occasions by diving into a lake and failing to emerge for what seems to me an unfathomable amount of time.

Twice in my life, lifeguards have leaped off their chairs and into the water of public pools, fearful that I had somehow lost consciousness underwater.

Both times they were exceptionally angry at me, accusing me of trying to frighten them.

Not true, but I admit to finding the whole thing amusing.

Holding my breath for long periods of time might not seem useful, but when I am aboard a cruise ship that overturns after being attacked by a sea monster, requiring someone to swim through an upside-down galley that has flooded with ocean water to press a button on the other side, I’ll be your man. And unlike the current crop of young people, I also have never owned a pair of goggles in my life and can open my eyes in pool, lake, and ocean water, so navigating that galley will be a piece of cake.

I am also a supertaster, verified via an actual test. My friend doubted my claim that I taste better than most (and therefore like fewer foods than most), so she purchased a supertaster test kit to prove me wrong. At a gathering of friends, our friends placed strips of paper on their tongues and were asked to identify the favor on the paper

None of my friends tasted a thing. I identified all the flavors correctly.

I taste food better than most, which is something children can also do. The older you get, the fewer taste buds you have. Therefore, the older you are, the less you taste. Your palate hasn’t gotten more sophisticated over time, as some arrogant dumbasses like to think.  You’ve simply lost the ability to taste things as your tastebuds slowly die.

You like that food that you despised when you were young because you can’t taste it like you once did.

Unless you are a supertaster or a child, of course. This is why we possess limited palates. While you plebian tasters are missing out on a multitude of flavors, we are tasting them all, and a lot of them suck.

Supertaster is obviously a superpower, but perhaps a Hulk-like superpower. Not exactly preferred.

I can also smell exceptionally well. At a tailgate a couple of years ago, my friend, Tony, opened a Ziplock bag containing marinating ribs. From a dozen feet away, in the open air, I said, “That barbecue sauce contains mustard.”

I’m allergic to mustard.

No one else, including Tony, could smell a thing, and Tony was sure that the barbecue sauce he and his wife used did not contain mustard. But just to be safe, he called his wife, who informed him that she had just purchased a brand new barbecue sauce for the first time. After checking the label, she confirmed that it contained mustard.

Everyone was dumbstruck. How the hell could I smell mustard when no one else could?

Simple:

I’m a superhero.

I’m a vomit-resistant, hangover-resistant, bruiseless, breath-holding supertaster and super smeller.

Maybe even a future Avenger.

Are you impressed?

Pro-tip: Kindness

Be kind whenever possible. Of course.

Also, here’s a pro tip:

It’s almost always possible to be kind.

Or stay silent.

Unless the person is super jerky, of course.

Or a Jets fan.

Amazing corn maze

Have you visited a corn maze during this rapidly dwindling autumnal season?

Have you ever visited a corn maze? Maybe scampered through one as a child?

If I asked you when the corn maze was first invented, what year would you guess?

What century would you guess?

Would you believe me if I told you that the very first corn maze was constructed in…

1993.

Yes, that’s right. In the same year that the source code for the internet was first made public and Beanie Babies were introduced to the world, the very first corn maze in history was created after a man named Don Frantz looked down on midwestern farmland during a cross-country flight, saw the clean lines of the fields, and envisioned an American version of the English mazes designed from hedgerows.

1993! Less than 30 years ago!

This reminds me of inventions like wheels on suitcases and self-adhesive postage stamps:

Things that should’ve been invented a long time ago.

Here’s a fun game to play with people:

Ask anyone over the age of 40 if they remember wandering in a corn maze as a small child. I’ve been asking people ever since I learned about this 1993 date, and many say yes, meaning they have a false memory of wandering around something that did not exist in their childhood.

Watching them try to square that circle is quite amusing.

This video below is a great history of the corn maze, as well as an explanation as to how they are constructed.

Normality is easy

The thing Van Gogh doesn’t mention is that those flowers are sometimes thorny and even poisonous. The ground beneath that unpaved road is rutted and uneven. Monsters are lurking amongst those flowers, ready to strike.

To be different is dangerous.

Still, it’s a hell of a lot better than a paved road.

Future happiness

A friend of mine has recently been going through an especially challenging time in their life. It’s the kind of upending life event that can sometimes result in years of struggle and pain.

“I’m so sorry you’re going through this awfulness,” I said to my friend recently.

“Don’t be sorry for me,” they said. “Be excited about my future happiness.”

So damn impressive.

So much of life is your choice of mindset. The positive framing of your struggle. The decision to look to the light.

My friend is going to be just fine. Better than fine, even. I won’t stop thinking about them, but I’ll be doing so with a lot less worry and a lot more hope in my heart.

And their perfect words and powerful example will remain with me for a long, long time.

Procrastination isn’t what you think

Contrary to popular opinion, procrastination is not born solely from laziness.

In fact, laziness oftentimes has little to do with it.

It’s typically the result of two things:

A lack of preparation and a fear of failure.

Lack of preparation includes:

Being disorganized. When your life lacks systems, routines, and order, work becomes harder and procrastination becomes far more appealing.Failure to prioritize sleep, stress reduction, and overall mental health. Your prefrontal cortex is the area of the brain responsible for thoughtful, long-term decision-making, but it does not work well when you are feeling tired, anxious, stressed, or overwhelmed. When we fail to prioritize sleep, exercise, and the things we need to reduce anxiety, we invite and almost guarantee that we will procrastinate on the things that matter most.

Fear of failure includes things like fear of mistakes, the foolish pursuit of perfectionism, concern over the opinions of others, aversion to criticism, and niggling self-doubt.

Combined, these things result in a failure to take action, and thus procrastination.

The defeat of procrastination is not accomplished via caffeine, a pep talk, or a rewards system. Instead, you can procrastinate less and accomplish more through a more organized life, an increased focus on your mental health, and accepting the reality that mistakes are an inevitable and expected part of any worthwhile pursuit.

The good news is that you’re not lazy.

The better news is that your inability to move forward is absolutely correctable.

Allowing space for the minority opinion

In the midst of a recent meeting, someone mentioned the challenges facing teachers in this not exactly post-pandemic, highly polarized environment. Teachers are struggling, she explained. Forces beyond our control have combined to make the job more difficult than ever before.

Then she added, “That said, I also know that not everyone is struggling. Some are managing these challenges just fine, so if you’re one of those people, I don’t mean to put any of these feelings on you or make any assumptions that aren’t true for you.”

Such a smart thing to say, and so appreciated.

I’ve been in many situations in my life where the popular sentiment is assumed for all, and I never like it.

Sometimes these faulty assumptions don’t amount to much. I arrive at a complimentary breakfast, for example, only to discover that the sole beverage being served is coffee because most people drink coffee. I’ve never even tasted the stuff, so I am stuck beverage-less.

Annoying but ultimately not a big deal.

But when you’re feeling really good about yourself for excelling despite the challenges you face, and someone makes the claim that “Everyone is struggling” or “We’re all having a tough time,” it doesn’t feel very good. The implication is that your success isn’t real, or you must be missing something, or your achievement doesn’t matter.

Back in college, I was sitting in a class one day, listening to the professor talk about the struggles of my classmates and her intention to alter the syllabus to accommodate their needs. “Maybe I assigned too much work,” she said. “Or maybe we just need to slow down a bit. But either way, I can’t keep moving forward at this pace while everyone is struggling to maintain a low C at best.”

The problem:

I had an A in the class. Through hard work but mostly a relentless passion for the subject, I had managed to achieve excellence in a class that I frankly didn’t find all that challenging.

When you love your job, it doesn’t feel like work.

I wasn’t unsympathetic to my classmates’ struggles, and I certainly wasn’t going to protest a change in the syllabus, but I felt lousy about being lumped in with my many struggling classmates.

If the professor had simply said, “I can’t keep moving forward at this pace while most of you struggle to maintain a low C at best,” I would’ve felt just fine. But by placing my classmates’ struggles on my shoulders, too, I felt like my efforts and achievement were irrelevant and meaningless. Possibly unnoticed or unappreciated.

I was annoyed. A quarter century later, I’m still annoyed.

This is why I appreciated what my colleague said in that recent meeting. Yes, it’s true. Many teachers are struggling these days. A multitude of forces – many related to the effects of the pandemic and growing partisanship – have made the teaching profession more challenging than ever before. My colleagues are wholly and fully justified in their struggle.

But some teachers are undoubtedly managing these challenges well. Brilliantly, even. Some are excelling at their work and loving their job despite the forces aligned against us. Some might be just as happy with their profession today as they were four years ago.

I might even know a few of those people. I might even resemble some of them.

Space needs to be made to acknowledge them, too. Not a lot of space, of course, but just enough to allow them to feel good about themselves and the work they are doing.

They need to know that they are seen, too.

Like my colleague did.

Making general but accurate statements about the majority is fine, just as long as you carve out a tiny space for those in the minority who are feeling and doing differently and want to know that they have been seen and acknowledged, too.

Unpopular Positive Opinion Challenge

I liked this challenge a lot.

Some of my unpopular, positive opinion films include:

Reign of Fire (2002): 42%
50 First Dates (2004): 45%
Jumper (2008): 15%
Terminator Salvation (2009): 33%
The Book of Eli (2010): 45%
Battle: Los Angeles (2011): 37%
Terminator Genisys (2015): 26%

I also like Waterworld (45%) and The Postman (8%), but those movies were released in 1995 and 1997 respectively.

Get vaccinated AND boosted

Charlie asked last night if the pandemic is over.

Ask a politician, and the answer will almost all be yes. It’s in their best interest to say yes.

But scientists, doctors, and public health experts would say otherwise.

“The refrain of the pandemic has been that no one is safe until everyone is safe,” WHO director-general Tedros Ghebreyesu said last month. “The pandemic is not over, but the end is in sight.”

Though the advent of vaccines and effective treatments have transformed the fight against the virus, doses of these life-saving treatments remain scarce in some low and even middle-income nations. And the more the virus circulates, experts say, the more chances it has to mutate into something more dangerous.

But some good news: Pfizer and BioNTech announced last week that their new COVID booster is nearly four times as good as its predecessor at protecting against the currently dominant version of the virus for people over age 55 and is likely just as effective in all ages.

Now the bad news: Only about 8% of Americans ages 5 and up have got the booster.

I am one of that 8% of Americans. I humbly suggest you join the ranks.

It’s a good idea to get the new booster simply because fully vaccinated people die at a remarkably lower rate than the unvaccinated and under-vaccinated, and people are still dying.

More than 2,500 last week in the United States. A blessedly low number compared with the past, but still a significant number, particularly if you or a loved one happened to be one of them.

The chart below is pretty striking in terms of COVID deaths in the United States for the first half of this year.

I know some people are worried about all of those microchips included in the vaccine. Others are concerned about their DNA being mutated via the shot. Still others are incapable of receiving the vaccine because their fragile egos can’t handle the thought that doctors could be right, they might be wrong, and they might need help in order to survive an attack by the virus.

“Fragile ego” is surprisingly one of the most deadly of all the comorbidities.

But if you don’t suffer from any of these problems, get your booster.

That orange bar is a hell of a lot bigger than that tiny, purple bar.