Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 12

Broadway and Hollywood: Sometimes it works. Sometimes not.

Hollywood and Broadway have been intermingling quite a bit in recent years, and since we see a lot of shows on Broadway, I’ve had a chance to compare many of them.

The results, I think, have been mixed.

For example, I was not surprised to discover that “The Outsiders” was better as a film than a Broadway musical.

The musical was very good, but the movie is so much better.

Same for “Beetlejuice.” A great Broadway show, but even better as a movie.

Not surprisingly, “Back to the Future” was also a far better movie than a Broadway show.

The musical wasn’t great.

Same for “Mrs. Doubtfire.” Excellent film. Bad Broadway show.

However, all of these shows began as movies, later adapted for the stage, so a nearly limitless art form — film — became hampered by the scope, size, and temporal limitations of the stage, making it difficult to improve upon the original.

But there are a few Broadway shows that might be better than the movie.

“Life of Pi,” a book I loved, made for a good movie, but it was even better as a Broadway show.

I’m not a fan of the “Lion King” story, so I wasn’t fond of the original film, and I wasn’t particularly enamored of the Broadway show, but it was admittedly better than the film.

Last month, Elysha and I saw “Glengarry Glen Ross” on Broadway and liked it a lot, but upon leaving the theater, my first thought was this:

“The movie is so much better.”

Not because the performances are better, but because the film expands the story brilliantly, introduces new characters, and adds significant depth to the existing ones.

Both were written by David Mamet, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He made his great story even greater by adapting it to a more expensive, flexible medium.

The one I am debating now is “Wicked,” which I have seen more than once on Broadway and love. But the first installment of the film was incredibly impressive, so once I see the second movie, which concludes the story, I’ll be forced to decide:

Which is better?

The brilliant, unforgettable live performance of a fantastic story, or the fully realized, world-expanding version on the silver screen?

I look forward to the internal debate.

Own your critics. Win the day.

Liquid Death is a canned water company with a fantastic name, an ingenious marketing campaign, and a product that is so much better for the environment than the plastic alternative.

Aluminum cans are recycled at a rate more than twice that of plastic, and aluminum doesn’t produce microplastics or other potentially adverse health concerns.

The brand is also brash, which I love.

Liquid Death recently partnered with Kylie Kelce to produce a “Kegs for Pregs” campaign, offering women the opportunity to enjoy a keg while pregnant.

It’s water, but it’s in a keg!

Clever.

The video is amusing. The campaign is memorable. The idea is smart.

After seeing the ad, a woman tweeted at Liquid Death, complaining that she found the name of the product “just horrible,” and seeing the image of a pregnant woman drinking the product, “even more horrible. She also reminded the company that words have energy.

Liquid Death’s response:

They produce an ad featuring the tweet, with the person’s name blurred to protect her identity, alongside a very pregnant Kylie Kelce drinking from a keg of Liquid Death and toasting her critic.

Instead of ignoring, running away, or hiding from the criticism, Liquid Death used it as fodder for an ad that went viral.

Brash, smart, and confident. Everything people want in their brands.

They owned their critic, thus turning her criticism into profit.

This is similar to the strategy used by Jimmy Kimmel in his “Mean Tweets” segment, in which celebrities read the terrible things said about them on Twitter while on camera. Kimmel knows that highlighting the cruelty and ignorance of internet trolls makes for great comedy.

The celebrities apparently know this, too, since they willingly participate in the fun, thus making these trolls look small, foolish, and sad.

Transform some of the most vile comments made about you online into comedy gold, and you win.

This is similar to how Taylor Swift used criticism of her love life as inspiration for one of her best-known songs, “Shake It Off.”

I stay out too late
Got nothing in my brain
That’s what people say, mm-mm
That’s what people say, mm-mmI go on too many dates
But I can’t make ’em stay
At least that’s what people say, mm-mm
That’s what people say, mm-mm

Swift steals her critics’ power by using their very words to write and record a joyful anthem that spent four weeks at #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 and another eight weeks at #2.

“Shake It Off” was one of the best-selling singles of the decade in the United States, selling 5.4 million digital copies and being certified Diamond by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA). The single remains Swift’s biggest hit on the Hot 100, where it spent nearly six months in the top 10 and another 50 weeks in the top 100.

Not bad for a song that opens with her critics’ mean-spirited words.

Swift used this same strategy in her song “Mean,” which my daughter told me “got me through eighth grade.” It’s another song that highlights all of the mean things said about her online and in the media. It didn’t perform as well as “Shake It Off” (maybe because it was a country song), but it reached #11 on the Billboard Hot 100 Chart and #2 on the Billboard Hot Country Songs chart, selling more than 2 million digital copies.

Once again, Swift used her critics’ words to make a zillion dollars.

A beautiful combination.

The television show “Hacks” illustrates this concept in the eighth episode of its fourth season, when the mayor of Las Vegas is persuaded to appear on Deborah Vance’s late-night talk show to discuss her recent sex scandal. Rather than hiding away and allowing other late-night hosts to make fun of her, she appears on Deborah’s show, owning her mistake, making fun of herself for it, and winning over the crowd by embracing her stupidity rather than hiding from it.

This is fiction, of course, but the principle is still valid. Steal your critics’ power by embracing, owning, and transforming their criticism into something that benefits you.

I learned this strategy early on in life.

When my classmates discovered the amusing nature of my last name in third and fourth grade and began making fun of me about it, I quickly realized that if I could make fun of my name in ways even better than my classmates, I could become the funniest person in the room.

I could steal the power from my enemies and transform it into something good for me.

So I quickly started writing jokes about my name.

I still use many of those jokes onstage today. They still make audiences laugh.

Thirty years later, I was one of a dozen Americans who sued Donald Trump (via The Knight Foundation) for blocking me on Twitter after he declared his Twitter feed an “official White House channel.” When we won that lawsuit, forcing Trump to unblock me, my name was published in the New York Times, which led to an onslaught of hate and threats directed at me online.

My response?

I reposted many of these hate-filled messages alongside expressions of gratitude for all the attention they were bringing me.

This response incensed the trolls, but it garnered me many followers and an outpouring of support.

Rather than ignoring the criticism or hiding from it, I highlighted it. Celebrated it. Laughed in its face. In doing so, I won. The trolls disappeared, but my new followers stayed.

We can all learn from Liquid Death’s response to criticism:

Recognize its value and exploit it. Make hay from it.

Don’t flee from the criticism. Don’t ignore it, hide from it, or hope it will go away.

Instead, steal its power. Turn it into something of value. Demonstrate your utter lack of concern for the words that others as

Be Brash, smart, and confident.

Everything people want in their brands.

A sign of not-so-good things

A survey of US adults found that 30 percent of respondents consult a fortune teller, tarot cards, astrology, or a horoscope at least twice a year, with astrology being the most common by far.

Most do it for fun, which is a relief but also odd.

How is something like reading your horoscope or tarot cards fun?

Reading a novel? Sure.
A self-help book? Possibly.
Gary Larson’s “The Far Side” comic? Absolutely.

But an opaque, esoteric, pretend prediction of a day or week or year?

How is this fun?

But more concerning is this:

About 1 percent of respondents said they rely heavily on what they learn from such divination to make decisions, which sounds like a small number, except it amounts to about 2.6 million American adults.

That’s a lot of human beings who are confused about fiction and reality.

James Clear’s excellent, bad advice

A quote from author James Clear:

“Worrying about the future is like watching a leaf fall and trying to predict where it will land. Stop trying to guess where the wind will blow and get to work.”

I agree. Completely and fully.

James Clear and I are on the same page and probably think very much alike. I’ve been told that many of his productivity strategies in “Atomic Habits” are similar to the ones I wrote about in “Someday Is Today,” so we would likely get along well.

But I also think his advice is meaningless.

Telling someone not to worry does not produce a sudden change in the way that person views the world.

Telling someone not to worry does not make them stop worrying.

In fact, I think advice like this can be counterproductive, serving only to make the worriers of the world feel bad about themselves and their worries.

Sometimes people worry because it’s simply how they are wired. Chemically and biologically, they cannot help but experience anxiety about the future. They can’t turn their brain off with a simple metaphor. Comparing the future to a falling leaf is not the insight required to alleviate their struggle.

Sometimes the solution to this kind of anxiety is medication.

Sometimes it’s a tool like meditation.

Sometimes, it’s a daily practice, such as positive self-talk, a mantra, or therapy, that, over time, can realign thoughts to alleviate, mitigate, or eliminate anxiety, worry, and catastrophizing.

Sometimes nothing can be done. People worry, and nothing they do can stop them from doing so.

James Clear is correct.

Worrying about the future is fruitless, pointless, and counterproductive. It’s often a barrier to peace, happiness, and even success.

I am thrilled that I don’t suffer from an ounce of anxiety about the future or anything else.

But telling people not to worry does not help.

However, this James Clear quote is much more helpful:

“One way to stand out is to look for pockets of low competition.
Wake up early—less traffic, fewer people.
Go deeper or narrower in your field—less noise, more space.
People are drawn to where it is crowded. Look for the quiet spaces inside your areas of interest. Excellence often hides at the edges.”

This piece of advice provides a tactical approach to achieving success.It is prescriptive and doable.Clear and specific.It’s something most people can accomplish if they set their mind to doing so, apply the right amount of energy commitment, and afford themselves the time and patience required to find their own “pocket of low competition.”Yes, I think James Clear is correct again.Move to a place where no one else is moving.
Plant your flag on untrodden ground.
Find your niche.Doing so may allow you to find greater success in life, and with that greater success, you may start to worry a little less.Telling people not to worry is a fruitless endeavor. Helping people realize success and make their dreams come true might be just what folks need to reduce their anxiety and feel better about the future.

Global Entry achieved

About a year ago, I applied for Global Entry, which would allow me to skip passport control lines and expedite entry into U.S airports.

I’m traveling much more frequently these days for speaking and consulting, including a significant amount of international travel, so anything that makes the process a little easier is worth it to me.

After submitting the paperwork, I waited months for an interview, which took place at the airport. During that interview, the Customs and Border officer, while staring at a computer screen, asked me, “Have you ever been arrested?”

“Yes,” I said.

He nodded.

“And have you ever been charged with a felony?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.

He nodded again.

“And were you indicted and tried for that crime?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said again.

Another nod.

I couldn’t tell if this interview was going well or poorly. He seemed pleased with my responses, but the line of questioning wasn’t exactly rainbows and bunnies.

Then he asked me where and when the trial took place, and I gave him my best guess:

Arrested in Bourne, Massachusetts, in 1992 and tried somewhere on Cape Cod in 1993. “Spring? I guessed. “Maybe April?”

“What was the result of that trial?” he asked.

“Not guilty,” I said.

This time, he did not nod. He explained to me that my case was not closed. According to the federal database, those charges against me were still pending — 32 years later.

It was as if I were still awaiting trial.

He told me that I would need to contact the clerk at the courthouse where my trial took place to get documentation indicating I had been found not guilty.

Other than knowing the trial took place somewhere on Cape Cod, I had no idea where that might be.

“It could be any town on the Cape,” I said. “I really don’t remember.”

“Good luck finding it,” the officer said.

Thus began the process of retrieving a 32-year-old record from an unknown courthouse that was presumably still in existence.

Phone calls to the Bourne police station, the Massachusetts Court System, and two different courthouses eventually led me to the Barnstable County Superior Court, where most felonies in Barnstable County are tried. And after several phone calls over several days to people working at the courthouse, I finally found myself speaking to a clerk with a Massachusetts accent that I once had and felt so familiar.

After explaining what I needed — a 32-year-old court record — she sighed.

“That document,” she said, “if it exists, is somewhere in the basement vault. None of that material was ever digitized. It could take us a while to find it, if at all.”

I sighed.

“I’ll contact you if we ever find it,” she said.

I was not hopeful.

The next day, I received an email. The clerk had found herself with some free time that morning and decided to make her way to the basement vault, where miraculously, in less than an hour, she found the document I needed.”

“It’s in the mail and on the way,” she wrote. “Three certified copies, in case you ever need it again.”

I immediately wrote a letter to the clerk and dropped it into the mail.

Two days later, I sent her flowers.

She thanked me for the gestures but assured me they weren’t necessary. “I was just doing my job.”

I explained to her that bureaucracy is so often brutal, inpenetrable, and exhausting. In this case, a simple document indicating my “not guilty” verdict — an outcome that someone failed to enter into a database more than three decades ago — was keeping me from avoiding the long lines and lost time associated with clearing customs.

As someone who values his time more than anything else, this was a big deal to me. Those hours in a customs line pile up quickly and could be spent with my family and friends. Absent this conscientious, industrious, and kind courthouse clerk, I might still be stuck in those long lines today.

I sent the document, marked “NG” for “not guilty,” to the Customs and Border office at the airport and waited, expecting to receive another call for a follow-up interview.

Yesterday, I received my Global Entry card by mail. A small card with my name and face that will return precious hours to me.

It sounds a little ridiculous, but receiving that card felt like an enormous accomplishment to me. I didn’t finish another novel, perform a new story onstage, write a new joke, teach a student to multiply by double digits, or even score a birdie on the golf course.

I navigated a system that included paperwork, phone calls, emails, a Customs and Border officer, and a court clerk. I spent nine months trying to obtain a small, laminated card that would allow me to bypass lines and travel to and from my destinations a little faster.

Joni is an unfunny jerk

If you didn’t hear:

Iowa Senator held a Town Hall meeting on Saturday to address constituent concerns about the Republican agenda in Washington, DC.

She held that Town Hall meeting at 7:00 AM because Republicans are getting verbally assaulted by their own constituents every time they attempt one of these things. In fact, GOP leadership has advised Republican lawmakers to stop doing Town Halls because they are all going so miserably.

So Ernst thought a 7:00 AM meeting might make for a quieter, more chill meeting.

She was wrong.

While discussing the millions of poor, disabled Americans – including many children — who will lose their healthcare coverage when Medicaid is cut to pay for billionaire tax cuts, someone in the audience shouted, “People will die!”

This is true. Statistically speaking, people die more frequently when they do not have healthcare coverage. Also, removing healthcare from millions of Americans will end up costing Americans even more because the medical care these disabled, impoverished adults and children receive will ultimately be paid for by American taxpayers at a far steeper rate in emergency rooms and urgent care facilities.

In response to, “People will die!” Ernst started to say, “No one will…” then pivoted and said, “We’re all going to die.”

All of this was terrible optics for Ersnst. It made national news. Late-night hosts had a field day with it. And it will surely be used against Ernst and the Republicans in upcoming elections.

But on Sunday, Ernst doubled down with a faux apology video recorded in a cemetery in which she sarcastically expressed regret for failing to realize that not everyone in the audience understands that “we will all perish from this Earth” and expressing gratitude for not needing to address the truth of the tooth fairy as well.

All terrible, again. Really bad.

The national media ran with this one even harder. More jokes. More outrage. More fodder for upcoming elections.

She also concluded by telling the viewers that if they wish for eternal life, they should embrace her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, who spent his life teaching people about the importance of caring for the poor, the marginalized, and the vulnerable.

Aside from the stupidity and hypocrisy of her statements, the thing that really irritated me was how Ernst thought she was being funny.

She doesn’t have a funny bone in her body.

By launching into what sounded like a sincere apology before pivoting to sarcasm, she attempted to use expectation and misdirection to produce a laugh, but thanks to a brutal combination of tone-deafness, bad writing, and poor delivery, she was aggressively unfunny.

Stupidly unfunny.

Then she attempted to use the tooth fairy to create an amusing analogy, but this also failed because the writing sucked, the material sucked,  and her delivery was atrocious.

She then ensured that any amusement that might still be alive was decapitated by closing with a reference to Jesus in a video about stripping healthcare from the poor, the sick, and the disabled — the people Jesus spoke about most.

Most poliitians suck at being funny, and Republican politicians usually suck the most. Even when someone like Trump gets his audiences to laugh, he does so by force of personality because his jokes always suck, too.

He’s not funny. He’s just ugly, callous, and offensive, and unfortunately, that combination makes stupid people laugh.

The thought of Joni Ernst finishing that video and thinking she just got off a good one is the funniest thing about the damn video. Imagining a U.S. senator wandering through an Iowa cemetery on a Sunday afternoon, staring at her phone and recording what she thought would be amusing, is hilarious.

The joke is on Joni. She didn’t tickle a single funny bone. She didn’t produce a single giggle. She came across as a heartless, stupid hypocrite who Jesus would struggle to refrain from punching in the face if he knew what she was doing.

People will die, Joni. That is true. But people will die sooner and in greater numbers because you think that tax cuts for the wealthy should be prioritized over healthcare for impoverished Americans, including children and the elderly.

How very Christian of you, Joni. Keep trying to be funny. Your stupidity is hilarious.

Patriots pride

The Patriots tweeted a photo of Gillette Stadium on June 1, highlighting the Pride flag in celebration of Pride month.

I had two thoughts:

It would have been easy for the Patriots to ignore Pride Month. NFL teams are not required to recognize this off-season month of acknowledgment and recognition, so it’s great for the Patriots to do so.This image will spark bigotry and hate online from the most ignorant, vile, and frightened human beings, and I was not wrong. The comments about the photos are filled with bigotry, including endless references to Trump, MAGA, and a whole bunch of ignorant straight men who seem to “doth protest too much, methinks.”

I don’t suggest reading it. It’s vile. Rest assured, it’s a lot of frightened little men shouting about their heterosexuality, celebrating their indoctrination into MAGA, and professing their love for leaders like Trump.

Real independent, free-thinking people.

I wish this kind of hatred and stupidity didn’t exist in the world, but if it must — and it probably always will because people with even a little power will always feel threatened when attention is turned away from them for even a moment — I think a post like this is helpful for a few reasons:

It’s a reminder that so much of this brazen hate exists only online, where anonymity protects cowards. While bigotry absolutely exists in our world in many forms, most people are either good, decent human beings or too afraid to speak their ugly thoughts aloud, so they crawl around on the internet, snickering in mall, dark corners to like-minded monsters.

It’s also an outstanding bigot-identification device. When someone leaves a comment like that, we know exactly how hateful and stupid they are.

No more wondering if Phil is a good person. He’s not. He sucks.

But best of all:

It’s great to see these little monsters wasting their time spreading their vile nonsense on a social media post that will soon be forgotten. Rather than creating real things, engaging in real activities, and doing something real, these tiny, sad trolls roam the internet, seeking places to waste their time posting meaningless ephemera that is forgotten almost as quickly as it’s written.

Snowflakes who can’t stand the sight of a Pride flag are terrible, ridiculous, and pathetic.

Knowing how much time they waste scouring the internet for minuscule, irrelevant, ephemeral opportunities to deposit their venom warms my heart.

Wasting time is one of the worst things a person can do. Knowing that is precisely what these bigots are doing is fantastic.

Charlie is an interesting human being

My son, Charlie, turned 13 this weekend.

It’s hard to remember exactly what I was doing when I was his age, but in a lot of ways, the teenage version of me and Charlie have a lot in common.

I played the flute, bassoon, and drums, and I marched in the Blackstone Millville Marching band, competing throughout New England and winning six Massachusetts championships and two New England championships.

Our band was a serious piece of business.

Charlie plays the guitar, trumpet, and piano. He’s a member of his school’s select jazz band. He has perfect pitch, which enables him to hear a song and then play it.

It’s like a superpower, but it’s also a little creepy.

I was playing in my final season of Little League when I was Charlie’s age. I won a championship in my final year of baseball and played in my only All-Star game.

I still have the trophies.

Charlie is playing baseball now, too. He’s moved on from Little League to what they called Babe Ruth in my day. I can’t remember why I didn’t advance to Babe Ruth, except I was probably too busy with the marching band to play ball.

I was probably not good enough to play in Babe Ruth, either.

Charlie is an outfielder and a catcher, just like his dad.

When I was Charlie’s age, I was a Boy Scout. I was a patrol leader at the time, but I would quickly rise to become Senior Patrol Leader.

For much of my youth, Scouting was as important to me as anything else in my life. I probably learned more from my time with the Boy Scouts than from any other experience.

Charlie is a Scout today, too, alongside his sister. Baseball often interferes with his participation, but he’s involved and loves it.

But that might be where our similarities end.

Charlie is also a railfan — a person who enjoys railroads and trains, often as a hobby. This can include riding trains, photographing them, studying their history, and collecting related memorabilia.

I have no idea how this happened. One day, he didn’t care at all about trains, and the next day, he was an expert and enthusiast.

Charlie has a YouTube channel about trains and a model train set. When my business partner asked me how he might get from Newark Airport to Hartford when he visits this summer, Charlie was able to give him three very specific options off the top of his head, including the type of train and frequency of departure.

Another creepy skill.

Charlie’s also a cuber, competing in cubing tournaments throughout New England.

I don’t know this happened, either. He spent two days on YouTube, learning to solve a Rubik’s Cube, and now he can solve all kinds of cubes, pyramids, and clocks.

He also managed to get himself into our town’s Aerospace Academy, switching middle schools in the process, despite the lack of support from Elyhsa and me. We liked his previous middle school and were familiar with all the teachers and administrators there. The school was five minutes from our home.

His desire to join the Aerospace Academy, extend his school day by more than an hour, and start taking a bus to school all seemed kind of ridiculous to us.

So we actively opposed his attempts and undermined his efforts.

He still got in, and it turns out that he was right. It’s an incredible opportunity for him, and he’s loving it.

He’s also an aviation enthusiast — wants to be a pilot when he grows up — and next week he’ll be flying in a small plane for the first time alongside an instructor.

Charlie is also an avid fisherman who has a fish tank in his bedroom.

He’s a fan of “The Far Side” because he knows good comedy when he sees it.

He’s a Minecrafter, a fledgling golfer, and a surprisingly good poker player.

I’m known as someone who gets a lot done. Fills his life with variety. Constantly expands his horizons.

I wrote a book — Someday Is Today — to explain how I manage to do so much and offer those strategies to others.

Charlie would seem to be following in my footsteps, except he just became a teenager, and his life is already full. More full than when I was a teenager for sure. Jam-packed with hobbies, sports, music, and other things.

I love it.

I know some kids specialize in one thing. They focus all of their attention and effort on a singular goal. They often become very skilled at their one thing and sometimes rise to the top.

Others, like Charlie, are more generalists. He wants to be very good at a lot of things instead of great at one thing, and I think that’s probably the best way to be.

Do a lot.
Know a lot.
Explore as many corners of this world as you can.
Invite new challenges.
Seek out new experiences.

Happy birthday to my brand-new teenager. He still has a lot to learn. His bedroom is probably a mess, his lunchbox is likely still in his backpack, and he probably has one or two assignments that still need to be completed. Still, overall, he’s doing a fine job of being an interesting human being.

Following in my footsteps and then some.

Resolution update: May 2025

Every month, I record my progress on my yearly goals to hold myself accountable and occasionally seek help and advice from readers willing to offer insight, ideas, and solutions.

Here are my results from May.

PERSONAL FITNESS/ATHLETICS

1. Don’t die.

I had my annual physical.

Blood pressure and cholesterol are excellent. My calcium score remains zero, indicating that there is no discernible plaque in my arteries.

I also received my pneumonia vaccine. It made golfing difficult for two days — my arm was incredibly sore — but it will prevent pneumonia from trying to kill me.

2. Lose 10 pounds.

No weight lost in May. A total of four pounds down so far.

3. Do a targeted push-up workout at least four times per week. 

Done.

4. Complete 100 sit-ups four times per week. 

Done.

5. Complete three one-minute planks four times a week.

Done.

6. Cycle for at least five days every week. 

I completed 25 rides in May. A total of 126 rides so far this year.

Three were outdoors!

7. Try at least three new vegetables I have never eaten before or do not like. 

No progress.

8. Get a DEXA Scan and VO2 Max test at least once in 2025.

Appointments are scheduled in July.

9. Lower my handicap to 19.9. 

I played six rounds of golf in May, and my handicap remains at 25.3.

Sadly, I’m playing pretty well. Shooting under 100 but over 90 every time out, which unfortunately equals a handicap of about 25.

I need to get better. Lessons are happening.

WRITING CAREER

10. Complete my eighth novel.

Work continues.

11. Write, edit, and revise my golf memoir.

No progress.

12. Write my “Advice for Kids” book.

Solid progress. Nearly complete.

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

No progress.

14. Write about my childhood in partnership with my sister, Kelli, at least once per month. 

No progress.

15. Write a new solo show.

Done!

16. Submit at least three Op-Ed pieces to The New York Times for consideration.

No progress.

17. Write at least four letters to my father.

I sent my father a birthday card in March.

One letter so far this year.

18. Write 150 letters.

A total of 11 letters were written in May to students, colleagues, and someone kind enough to write me an unexpected and lovely letter.

A total of 91 letters have been written in 2025 so far.

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

No progress.

STORYTELLING/SPEAKING CAREER

20. Launch a new Homework for Life app.

The app is currently being reviewed by Apple for final approval in the App Store.

21. Record and publish at least 25 videos on my YouTube channel.

Four videos were posted in May. A total of 15 videos have been posted in 2025 so far.

Thanks to my production manager, my YouTube channel is really taking off.

Subscribe here.

22. Perform a new solo show.

Done! Two sold-out shows were performed in May. New venues are now being sought.

23. Revise my free Storyworthy Academy.  

Done.

Thanks primarily to the work of my partner and production manager, we have an outstanding free academy for anyone who wants to learn more about storytelling.

Check it out at storyworthy.com.

24. Record and produce at least three new Storyworthy courses.

One course completed in May.

Another is nearly complete.

25. Produce a total of six Speak Up storytelling events in 2025.

One show was produced in May at the Connecticut Museum of Culture and History.

We have an upcoming show scheduled on June 7 at the Mark Twain House.
The Great Hartford Story Slam is scheduled on June 28 at Hartford Flavor Company.

We have produced three shows in 2025 so far:

January 11 at the Connecticut Museum for History and CultureFebruary 7 at District in New HavenMay 10 at the Connecticut Museum of History and Culture

26. Submit pitches to at least three upcoming TEDx events, hoping to be accepted by one.

No progress.

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

I attended one Moth StorySLAM in May. Sadly, my name remained stubbornly in the bag.

A total of five Moth events in 2025.

28. Win at least one Moth StorySLAM.

Done! I won my 62nd Moth StorySLAM in March.

29. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

No Moth GrandSLAM opportunities yet.

30. Pitch “You’re a Monster, Matthew Dicks” or my new show to six theaters in 2025. 

No progress.

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

No progress.

32. Perform stand-up at least six times. 

No progress in May.

I’ve performed stand-up once in 2025.

33. Pitch three stories to This American Life.

No progress.

34. Submit at least three pitches to Marc Maron’s WTF podcast.

No progress.

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

Five newsletters were sent in May.

I’m also launching a Substack in June.

I’ve sent 31 newsletters so far in 2025.

HOME

36. Organize the basement.

Tons of progress! Bins cleared. Ancient furniture was eliminated. More than half done.

36. Clear the garage of unwanted items.

Done! The garage is officially clean, and all unwanted items have been removed.

37. Replace our backyard shed.

A new shed has been purchased. Permitting is complete. Arrival time is 4-6 weeks.

38. Refinish the hardwood floors.

The work is scheduled to be completed in June.

FAMILY/FRIENDS

39. Travel to Europe.

Waiting on possible speaking tour dates to Australia, Germany, and Saudi Arabia before we finalize European dates.

We may opt to travel to someplace other than Europe this summer.

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

Done.

41. Bring my brother, sister, and me together at least twice in 2025.

No progress.

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

Except for days when I was away and unable to take the photograph, done.

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

I only took three photos with Elysha and me in May.

44. Plan a reunion of the Heavy Metal Playhouse.

No progress.

45. I will not comment positively or negatively on the physical appearance of anyone except my wife and children to reduce the focus on physical appearance in our culture overall.

Done.

46. Surprise Elysha at least 12 times.

I surprised Elysha three times in May:

I delivered special desserts to Elysha and her colleagues.I gave Elysha a special care package on the eve of ukulele camp, complete with a songbook, chord chart, picks, and a ukulele T-shirt.I arranged to have a mocktail kit sent to Elysha every month for the year as a Mother’s Day present.

I’ve surprised Elysha seven times in 2025:

A surprise birthday party on January 4Post Valentine’s Day flowersClever and amusing office suppliesFlowers on the first day of testingDesserts for Elysha and her teammatesUkulele care packageMocktail subscription

47. Play poker at least six times.

I played poker twice with Charlie in 2025 — both times using a video poker game on a plane.

I’ve also begun playing poker online again. Small stakes. Two very profitable sessions so far.

Four games of poker in 2025.

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

No progress.

MUSIC

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

No progress.

50. Practice the flute at least four times per week.

No progress.

MISCELLANEOUS PROJECTS

51. Host at least three dinner parties where I cook.

No progress.

52. Develop a course on self-confidence. 

Progress continues. Strategies are being collected, an instructional outline is being developed, and I’m conducting interviews to gather thoughts and ideas.

53. Develop a list of strategies to help people deal with loneliness and produce it in some form.

I’ve started writing a book on the subject, based on the list of strategies I’m developing.

This was a surprise to me and my literary agent. Instead of writing the full book, I’ll write a proposal for it.

54. Read at least 12 books.

I read two books in May:

”Fight” by Jonathan Allen and Amie Parnes
“Steal Like an Artist” by Austin Kleon

I’ve read 10 books thus far in 2025:

“Unreasonable Hospitality” by Will Guidara
“Schtick to Business” by Pete McGraw
”The Humor Code” by Pete McGraw
“Catching the Big Fish” by David Lynch
“Simply Said” by Jay Sullivan
”Miracle and Wonder” by Bruce Headlam and Malcolm Gladwell
“Revenge of the Tipping Point” by Malcolm Gladwell
”Factfulness” by Hans Rosling
”Fight” by Jonathan Allen and Amie Parnes
“Steal Like an Artist” by Austin Kleon

55. Finish reading TIME’s 100 Best Children’s Books of All Time. 

No progress in May.

I’ve read five additional books in 2025, bringing my total to 44 total books read off the list.

56. Edit our wedding footage into a movie of the day.

No progress. 

57. Digitize a pile of DVDs that contain dance recitals, plays, and other assorted moments from the past.

Done!

58. Memorize three new poems.

Done!

I’ve memorized the following poems in 2025 thus far:

“This is Just to Say” by William Carlos Williams
“Fire and Ice” by Robert Frost
“Trees” by Joyce Kilmer

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

Done.

House and couch

People decide whether or not to buy a house in an average of just 27 minutes.

But it takes those same people an average of 88 minutes to decide on a couch.

We are strange animals.