Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 125

Ask about allergies first

My family and I went to dinner last week at the 11o Grill in Canton, CT. Before taking our orders, the server asked, “Are there any food allergies we should be aware of?”

Clara is allergic to peanuts, and I’m allergic to mustard, so we often need to tell servers these things when ordering, but never before had a server proactively asked this question.

I thought it was brilliant.

A restaurant should want to know about the food allergies of its guests. The last thing they want is to have a diner experience a possibly lethal allergic reaction in the middle of their restaurant.

Asking the question also signals to your customer that this is something you take very seriously. As someone whose child has a peanut allergy, this simple question was enormously appreciated by Elysha and me. We knew that these people understood the dangers of a food allergy and were taking it seriously.

You’d think everyone working in a restaurant would take food allergies seriously, but you would be mistaken. We have been accidentally served food containing peanuts and mustard on more than one occasion. We’ve ended up in the emergency room with Clara at least twice after a server accidentally gave Clara something containing peanuts because they had forgotten about her allergy. We’ve had servers fail to respond when Clara informs them of her peanut allergy, requiring us to ask if they heard her. We’ve had servers respond dismissively when Clara informs them of her allergy.

I once stormed behind the counter and into the kitchen of a Panera after the person taking our order told me that Clara’s requested grilled cheese sandwich contained no peanuts, so there was no need to alert the kitchen to her allergy.

The decision to enter the kitchen area in anger didn’t go so well.

So asking about allergies up front says to customers that this establishment understands the issue and thinks it important enough to ask about it before taking any orders.

Also, by asking proactively, it eliminates the need to add your allergy onto the order, which can be confusing when more than one person at the table has an allergy. For years, Clara has been ordering her food then adding, “Also, I have a peanut allergy.” This is fine, but it’s also equivalent to:

I’d like a grilled cheese sandwich, please. Also, some of the stuff in your kitchen – stuff you put on lots of things – might kill me, so head up.”

These two things probably shouldn’t be said together. Dealing with the deadly stuff first before asking about what a person wants to eat feels right.

I don’t know why I’ve never seen this proactive questioning done before, but I wish every restaurant would adopt this policy. It takes about three seconds to ask the question, and if the answer is no, then the customers simply answer in the negative and begin ordering.

If the answer is yes, everyone at the table with a food allergy (and their parents) feels seen, heard, and a little safer.

Pogo

Extreme pogo stick (you must watch the video) is a reminder that the elevation and expertise of almost any activity can be appealing to the masses.

Find something you love. Then work like hell to excel in that thing. Or better yet, find a way to do it like no one has ever done it before.

The pogo stick has never looked so cool or been so entertaining. But taking something once seen as pedestrian and elevating it to something special is not new.

People have turned cup stacking into an art and sport.

Coney Island made competitive hot dog eating into a contest important enough to be covered on ESPN.

PechaKucha has turned PowerPoint presentations into battles of art and wit.

Bog snorkling, cherry pit spitting, chessboxing, and toe wrestling have all been made into competitions that attract sizable audiences.

Doodling, butter sculpturing, reverse graffiti, and light painting are all relatively new but greatly appreciated and respected art forms.

When I was writing my first novel, I discovered that lock picking is a highly competitive sport with an entire community of enthusiasts.

Back in 1997, The Moth turned storytelling into a competition.

Thank goodness for me.

Though storytelling is very much an art and significantly difficult to judge objectively, some storytellers win far more often than others. So although the competitions are admittedly imperfect, the best storytellers – over time – win more often and become known for their skill and expertise.

Like poker, the best ultimately rise to the top.

And it’s only been through my success at The Moth that I was first recognized by corporate America, business owners, universities, magazine editors, filmmakers, advertisers, attorneys, the clergy, and many others as someone who could assist them in their endeavors. My speaking and consulting career would not exist today had someone not decided to elevate storytelling beyond something once only done informally around the dinner table, the campfire, the occasional salon, and between friends.

Find something you love. Then work like hell to excel in that thing.

Or better yet, find a way to do it like no one has ever done it before. Turn something previously pedestrian and make it extraordinary.

Unluckiest and luckiest

Twitter is an odd place where you can see what people are saying about you simply by looking at your mentions.

Most of the time, this amounts to someone saying something kind about one of my books or performances. Sometimes it’s a person commenting on work I’ve recently done for a company. Every now and then someone is quoting a line from one of my books.

But occasionally, I see something a little more surprising, like this:

In response to the question:

“Who are some storytellers and creators I should collaborate with? Every year, I come up with a mantra to focus my efforts (rather than set goals/metrics). This year: Go calmly, go with others. So many reasons why. Would love your suggestions!”

… a person with the Twitter handle @Wafflebeaver tweeted this admittedly interesting and possibly apt description of me.

It never gets any less exciting

Look what showed up at my house yesterday!

Ordinarily, the opening of the envelope or box containing the first copy of my new book is a big deal in our house, complete with pomp and circumstance, but when Elysha handed me the envelope, neither she nor I knew what was inside, so I unceremoniously tore it open in the middle of cleaning out the pantry.

Quite a surprise.

This is my eighth published book – my second book of nonfiction – but it never, ever stops being exciting. There was a day, not that long ago, when publishing just one book was a dream that that might never happen.

Now that dream has come true yet again.

For all you writers out there, toiling away at manuscripts of your own, hoping to one day see your book on a bookstore shelf, my heart goes out to you. I hope you can experience the same kind of excitement that I felt upon opening that envelope and holding the first copy of my book.

I also hope you’ll join me on Saturday, June 18 at 7:00 PM ET at the Connecticut Historical Society in Hartford, CT for the launch of my next book, Someday Is Today: 22 Simple, Actionable Ways to Propel Your Creative Life. 

I’ll be telling stories from the book, offering some brand new strategies for making your creative dreams come true, and taking questions from the audience. I’ll also be joined by Elysha Dicks, author of the foreword, and Matthew Shepard, author of the afterword, and Jeni Bonaldo, frequently maligned figure in the pages of the book, to talk about their part of the process, too, as well as two very special guests.

We’ll also play games, give away prizes, sign books, and more!

RJ Julia Booksellers will be onsite to sell books, and refreshments will be provided courtesy of the Historical Society.

Click here for tickets.

A suggested donation of $10 is requested – all proceeds go directly to the Connecticut Historical Society.

If you live locally (or if you’re willing to travel), I hope you’ll join me for a fun night!

How many of these things have you done?

I’ve done 32 out of 50.

Most of my misses are related to locations where I have not yet traveled.

Also, for the record, I have no desire to fly in a helicopter, go on a cruise, downhill ski, jump out of a plane, get a piercing, or get a tattoo, so achieving 50 out of 50 will be impossible unless I experience multiple changes of heart.

But I’ve had at least 7 rides to the hospital in the back of an ambulance, so I think that should count twice.

I’ve had more speeding tickets than you could possibly imagine – when I was much younger, of course – so maybe that should count for two as well.

Also, I’ve never served on a jury, but I’ve been on trial for a felony which seems like an even higher bar than just serving on a jury. My arrest and subsequent trial has actually kept me off juries in the past, so perhaps I should get credit for that one, too.

Then again, this is just a random list that someone sent to me, so arguing over semantics is probably unnecessary.

In fact, I should just make my own list.

Yes. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll make my own list!

Also, my list won’t suffer from the stupid inconsistencies and errors that this list contains.

For example, why does the list ask if I’ve “Been to Paris” but “Visited Mexico?” Pick a paradigm and stick to it.

Also, the word “horse” is not a proper noun, so it shouldn’t be capitalized. And it’s adjacent to “Rode an elephant,” which isn’t capitalized.

In what bizarre mind are horses and elephants different when it comes to capitalization?

Fear not. You won’t suffer these indignities when you’re answering the questions on my equally meaningless list, coming soon.

Dunning Kruger Effect illustrated

If you believe in the paradigm illustrated here, (also known as the Dunning-Kruger Effect), it doesn’t take long to separate the informed from the uninformed.

Possibly the smart from the stupid, too.

Simply listen to the quality and frequency of questions asked. Keep a weather-eye for people who lead with certainty. Identify those who listen from those who don’t.

That’ll often tell you everything you need to know about a person.

Poop

Charlie despises swearing.

He can’t stand graffiti.

He is an aggressive rule follower, which can really annoy me at times.

But while playing golf the other day, we sat on a bench while waiting, where he found this small bit of graffiti.

Despite being graffiti and an unequivocal example of someone who didn’t follow the rules, Charlie nevertheless approved.

I guess that despite his strident positions, he’s capable of making exceptions when it comes to certain, specific things.

“The Velocipastor” is a bad movie but a great story

I asked my student how he spent this weekend.

He told me that it saw the film The Velocipastor.

I thought I heard him wrong, but no, The Velocipastor is a real film. Rated 56% fresh on Rotten Tomatoes. A tight running time of just 75 minutes and made for a budget of $35,000.

The plot follows pastor Doug Jones who becomes infected by a Chinese artifact, resulting in him turning into a velociraptor when he becomes angry. The movie includes dismemberment, a sex worker with a heart of gold, and a ninja strike team.

My student did not enjoy the film. Sadly, he and his family purchased it via a streaming service.

Happily, the film is also streaming for free on Peacock, so after hearing about it, I watched it myself.

How could I not?

Admittedly, I watched the entire film in about 20 minutes, skimming through much of it and stopping only on scenes that looked interesting.

I’d like to say that the 2o minutes was the perfect length of time to dedicate to this film, but that is surprisingly not true.

Ten minutes would’ve probably been more appropriate.

Two things about The Velocipastor that fascinated me:

The difference between the promise of the movie poster and the actual appearance of the velocipastor in the film is striking. I understand the desire to overpromise audiences in order to put butts in seats, but this might be one of the greatest examples of overpromising that I’ve ever seen. Look at the photos below and judge for yourself.Which came first: The title or the concept for the film? Did writer, producer, and director Brendan Steere first think of the idea for the movie then find the perfect name, or did the name “Velocipastor” come to him first, resulting in the formulation of character and plot to match title?

I went looking for an answer and found it in a Forbes article on Steere and his film.

Steere said, “Way back in 2010, I was trying to type ‘Velociraptor’ into my phone, and it autocorrected to Veloci Pastor. I was in film school at the time, at the School of Visual Arts in Manhattan, and I was like, ‘That sounds like a movie to me!”

Isn’t that great? Steere started with the title, then he wrapped a movie around it.

In my new book, Someday Is Today – available for preorder (in case you haven’t heard) – I write about idea generation and the importance of staying alert to all avenues for creation. You simply never know where the next great idea might be found.

Brendan Steere found an idea for a film via auto correct on his phone. He spelled a word incorrectly, and the end result was a movie.

For the record, The Velocipastor has become a cult hit, earning more than enough money to warrant a sequel. It’s an awful movie, but in the minds of many, it’s an awful movie that is also hilarious for its awfulness.

I may not have enjoyed the movie, but many do. Enough that the film has turned a considerable profit. Enough that it’s streaming on Peacock and Amazon Prime and available for purchase on many other platforms. It’s grabbed enough of the zeitgeist that Forbes is interviewing Steere about the film and his sequel is already in production.

Good for Brendan Steere. He made something ridiculous and campy that people love.

Oddly, The Velocipastor has brought joy to the world. What more could a creative person want?

Naming a business is a tricky business

I’m quite certain that Acme Music in Cheshire, CT is a brilliantly operated business, but there was a moment when someone chose this name, and I can’t help but think they weren’t trying very hard.

“Acme” admittedly begins with two letters at the front of the alphabet, so if we were living in the age of the yellow pages, when you wanted your business to appear first on a list, this may have meant something.

But that time has long since past.

Acme also means “the point at which someone or something is best, perfect, or most successful,” but I think this definition was perhaps more well known in a time before Wile E. Coyote began purchasing explosives from the fictional Acme corporation in order to blow up his mortal enemy, the Road Runner.

It’s not even a terribly original name. In Connecticut alone, Acme is used in the name a car dealership, a wire company, a typesetter, a small chain of grocery stores, and a furniture store, amongst many others.

I believe in thoughtful, strategic, meaningful naming of all things.

Elysha and I debated the name of our storytelling company, Speak Up, for a long time before finally deciding on a name.

We can’t agree with whose idea it was, or more accurately, Elysha is misremembering whose idea it was, but that’s beside the point. The name works well. We encourage people to find and tell their best stories. We want them to “speak up.”

My newest company is named Storyworthy, which is also the name of my book, “Storyworthy: Engage, Teach, Persuade, and Change Your Life Through the Power of Storytelling.” The word will also be included in the title of my next book on storytelling. I like the name a lot, particularly because I preach the idea that everyone lives a life filled with stories that deserve to be told.

Admittedly, I don’t always nail the names of businesses. My DJ company, for example, is named Jam Packed Dance Floor DJ’s. The meaning of the title is clear, but it doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. I think we probably regretted the name about three months after we went into business, but by then, we’d booked about 25 weddings and were off.

When I was in high school, writing term papers for classmates in exchange for money, I would send customers a hand-written receipt with the company name “Dicks Writes For You.”

Again, it’s a very descriptive name, but it’s not exactly a good name. Also, when you’re business is covert and illicit, as my term paper writing business was, why give it a name at all? Why create a paper trail for teachers and principals and the IRS to one day find?

Maybe Acme Music isn’t so bad after all.

Our Harry Potter journey

I’ve made some outstanding parental decisions in my time:

Marrying Elysha was probably the best. If you want to have outstanding children, marry an outstanding person. It’s no guarantee that your child won’t be rotten or impossible, but it’s a solid hedge on your bet.

Agreeing to adopt cats after our last two cats and Kaleigh passed away – something I never thought I’d do again – was also very good. The kids adore those cats and have received so much love and laughter from them over the years.

Giving Elysha those many years at home to raise the kids while I found ways to make ends meet – and sometimes barely meet – is something for which I’ll always feel enormous pride.

Requiring the children to turn their dirty clothing right-side out – since I do all of their laundry – is a recent but brilliant innovation.

But here is by far one of my best:

On January 10, 2o21, I began reading “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone” to Charlie.

Clara told me that she had no interest in the book, but knowing that she was sitting in her bedroom, devouring her own book, I sat on the edge of my bed, closest to the open door, and began reading to Charlie, loudly. Hoping that my words were making their way into her bedroom, where she might listen and change her mind.

It worked. At the end of that first chapter, she called out, “That actually kind of was interesting!”

A mere 482 days later – on Friday night – the family gathered in the living room for the last 80 pages of the last book in the Harry Potter series. We didn’t typically read 80 pages in a single sitting, but the next day, Saturday, we were headed to New York City – first to the Harry Potter store and then onto Broadway to see Harry Potter and The Cursed Child, the sequel to the Harry Potter series, written only in play form.

We needed to finish the last book to avoid spoilers and be prepared.

It’s been such a wondrous journey for the family. Endless hours spent reading, discussing, and debating the books. The kids found a simulation of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Minecraft and have been exploring ever since. They play a Harry Potter game online that allows them to occupy Hogwarts in a time before Harry Potter arrived. We’ve bought them wands, owls, companion books of spells and beasts, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, and so much more.

Charlie owns a full set of Gryffindor house robes. When he wears them, he looks just like Harry Potter.

We all went to Pottermore.com and allowed the Sorting Hat to assign us houses, wands, and Patronuses.

Clara and Elysha are Hufflepuffs.

I’m a Ravenclaw. I took the quiz years ago when I first read the books and was sorted into Slytherin, but I have apparently changed since then.

Charlie is a Gryffindor.

After each book, the family sat down to watch the film adaptation. We debated the merits of the book versus the movie. Looked for difference between the two. Ate lots of candy.

During the worst of the pandemic, Elysha, Charlie, and I watched all the Marvel movies for the first time, in order. It was a silver lining in a very scary time. It’s something we’ll never forget.

Harry Potter was even better, both because Clara joined us this time, and I think because their was so much more to wonder about, predict, speculate upon, and adore.

Books really are better than movies.

Our Saturday spent in New York City was spectacular. The Harry Potter store was as good as advertised, filled with toys and clothing and books but also dressed up beautifully based upon the story. A London telephone booth. Hagrid’s enormous shoes. An elevator made to look like the Floo network. An enormous sculpture of a hippogriff in the center of the store. Real props from the films. A butterbeer bar.

The kids loved it. Elysha and I loved it. We vowed to return this summer when we have more time to explore.

The play was even better. I think I spent more time watching the looks on Clara and Charlie’s faces than I did at the stage. The story was very good. The special effects were great. The theater was beautiful. Our seats were excellent.

All was fantastic. Charlie declared it the best day of his life. Clara is still debating but it’s in her top 10.

It’s a day our family will never forget.

Last night, Charlie said, “I’m really going to miss Harry Potter.” There was real sadness in his voice.

I feel the same way.

482 days ago, I read the first sentence of the Harry Potter series:

“Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.”

That sentence opened the door to hundreds of hours spent together as a family, sharing in literature and ideas and heartbreak and joy.

Thank goodness I read it loudly enough for Clara to hear that night and fall in love along with the rest of us.