Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 132

Thou shall not steal

In my youth, I stole, among other things:

Two dozen children’s shoes – all left footed – and the display table upon which they were sittingMany orange traffic conesA grocery cartA New Bedford high school snare drummer’s sticks and his backup sticksA stethoscopeThe blank, white pages from hundreds of children’s booksA candlepin bowling ballA payphone receiverThe Scottie dog from at least a dozen a Monopoly gamesAll of the underwear that Robert Archambault packed for our week at Yawgoog Scout ReservationThe flag and mascot (a stuffed beaver) of a North Adam State University’s frat houseA “Speed Checked By Radar” traffic sign (which I still own today)Many, many pepper shakersLester Maroney’s grade bookA blue spruce tree from a neighbor’s front lawnA case of McDonald’s birthday cakesSeveral garden gnomes

Happily, I have since learned to walk the straight and narrow. Not only is theft illegal and immoral, but it can sometimes lead to terrible results:

Case in point:

Last week, a thief broke into a box truck in Denver and stole a dolly and a box labeled “Science Care.” It’s unlikely that the thief knew what the box contained, because it was filled with several human heads bound for medical research.

I was astounded to discover that the shoes my friend and I stole were all left-footed children’s shoes.

Just imagine how the thief who opened a box filled with human heads felt.

The old adage “Crime doesn’t pay” has never been more true.

Speaking to the dead and yelling at the Russians

I spoke to Charlie’s class fourth grade class last week about writing authentically: Using the power of the written word to affect change in your life and the lives of others. Moving writing beyond its academic purposes and into the real world.  This can come in many, many forms. In my classroom, for example, requests are submitted in writing, and my students know that well written notes and emails are far more likely to receive an affirmative response than those dashed off without thought or care.  My students are currently designing and writing picture books. When finished, I’m going to teach them how to write to literary agents in an attempt to get their books published. My students routinely write emails, letters, and cards to teachers and staff in the school. They make requests of the principal. Thank custodians for cleaning the classroom. Request menu changes from the cafeteria. Just yesterday, I found a student writing a “get well soon” card to a math teacher who is having surgery.  I host writing contests in my classroom constantly, offering classroom currency, certificates of achievement, and other perks and privileges to the winners. Winners’s names are also added to plaques in my classroom that stretch back nearly two decades. It’s not uncommon for a student to want their name to appear on the plaques more often than their older sibling, and they often work like hell to make it happen.  Students also host writing contests in my classroom, determining their own topics, judges, due dates, and prizes.  In the past, students have written letters ailing relatives, politicians, and celebrities. I’ve taught them to write to restaurants when the service is poor or food is disappointing. A couple of years ago, Chilli’s sent one of my students $100 in gift cards to make up for the disappointing meal. That was a joyous day in my classroom indeed. Authenticity in writing – offering students a meaningful purpose for writing – is critical to helping them become highly effective, life long writers. When students see writing only as a means of responding to questions, completing assigned essays, and earning grades, writing is viewed as onerous, academic, and unnecessary. As a result, they don’t write. They abandon the craft as quickly as possible and lose all joy in placing words on the page.  We must find one million reasons for students to write in authentic, meaningful ways. Then we must find one million more.   When talking to Charlie’s class and asking about who they might write to and why, a new reason for writing arose that I have never heard of before: Writing to deceased loved ones.  More than one of Charlie’s classmates proposed writing to grandparents and other relatives who they barely knew before passing away. In the words of one child, “I can’t talk to my granddad, but maybe if I write to him, he will hear me.” I was astounded by the beauty and simplicity of this idea.   More than one student also proposed writing to Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy and the Ukrainian people, offering their love and support. Being my son, Charlie proposed writing to the Russians, telling them to get the hell out of Ukraine and go back where they belong.  The kids were filled with ideas and excitement. Two days later, I found a handful of notes in my mailbox, written by Charlie and other members of his class, thanking me for visiting.   I’ve already written back.  A day later, Charlie emailed this to me from his classroom: Дорогая, Россия. Большая часть мира знает о том, что вы делаете с Украиной. Большинство других частей мира хотят, чтобы вы остановились. И я тоже. Если вы продолжите это делать, вы можете вызвать Третью мировую войну. Ни один человек в мире этого не хочет. Если это произойдет, может случиться много плохого. Так вы бы вырезать его? Ни одна из этих вещей, которые могут произойти, не является хорошей. Мол, если случится мировая война, она может уничтожить вашу страну! Это не будет хорошо. Так что ПОЖАЛУЙСТА, ОСТАНОВИТЕСЬ!!! То, что ты делаешь, нехорошо! Могут случиться плохие вещи. Надеюсь, ты послушаешь. До свидания.От, Чарльз члены He apparently knows how to use Google Translate. It reads: Dear Russia. Most of the world knows what you are doing with Ukraine. Most other parts of the world want you to stop. And me too. If you continue to do this, you may cause World War III. Not a single person in the world wants this. If that happens, a lot of bad things can happen. So would you cut it? None of the things that can happen are good. Like, if a world war happens, it could destroy your country! It won’t be good. So PLEASE STOP! What you are doing is not good! Bad things can happen. The Ukraine people deserve to be free. I hope you listen. Goodbye. From,Charles Wallace Dicks We’re sending the note to the Russian delegation at the United Nations in New York. I don’t expect a response, but then again, I didn’t expect Chilli’s to send my student $100 in gift cards, so who knows?  Even if they don’t respond, Charlie has transferred thought and feeling to the page, and that physical page will now land in the hands of another human being.  That is how you create an enthusiastic, highly effective, life long writer.  It’s not hard.

Special Invitation! Join my Launch Team!

I am pleased to announce that my new book of Someday Is Today: 22 Simple, Actionable Ways to Propel Your Creative Life will be available wherever books are sold in the US on Tuesday June 7th and in other countries shortly thereafter!

I wrote Someday is Today to help empower you to make manageable changes so you can achieve the creative things you want to make happen without upending your life.  The practical advice I offer in the book has worked for me personally, as well as the countless other creative people I have consulted with, whether their goal is to sing, knit, draw, write, or teach.

And I’m not alone on this one. The foreword to the book is written by my wife, Elysha, and the afterword is written by my friend, Matthew Shepard.

Reviews and marketing around the book’s publication date are essential, so I am working with my publisher, New World Library, to create a special launch team of volunteers who are willing to pre-order the book and post a reviews on Amazon once the book becomes available.

If you join the team, you will be among the first people to read the book via a free sneak peek advance PDF copy that my publisher will provide in advance of the pub date and you’ll receive some bonus perks as well! 

THE COMMITMENT

Step 1: Pre-order a print copy of the book from Amazon as soon as possible.

• If you live in the US use this link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1608687503

• If you live in Canada use this link: https://www.amazon.ca/dp/1608687503

• If you live in the UK use this link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/1608687503

• If you live in Australia use this link: https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/1608687503

If you live elsewhere, you can order the book through your local Amazon or via the Book Depository using this link.
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Step 2: Sign-up to be on my launch team by the end of the day on Tuesday March 15th (you will need your receipt or order number from Amazon).

To sign up, just click this link and complete the Launch Team form.

Step 3: Receive a sneak-peek PDF copy of the book by email in early April.

Step 4: Read the advance PDF copy of the book.

Step 5: Post a review of the book on Amazon.com. When you receive the PDF copy my publisher will give you a specific date range sometime after the publication date of Tuesday June 7th to post your review based on the first initial of your last name.

THE PERKS

Receive an advanced PDF of the book! Read it before anyone else!Join me in early May for an online Zoom meeting wherein I will share at least one new productivity strategy that didn’t make it into the book, as well as answer ANY AND ALL questions about the book and anything else that you may want to know. This Zoom call will be recorded and can be sent to you in the event that you are unavailable.Receive three digital animations featuring productivity strategies that didn’t make it into the book.Enjoy my undying gratitude.

Thank you for considering this request and for being a part of my community. Please sign up only if you are committed to doing all of the above.

Trucks are not always trucks

According to the automotive research firm Strategic Vision, 35 percent of truck owners have never put anything in the bed of the truck.

I’m not sure why I think this is hilarious, but I do.

There’s nothing wrong with owning a truck, of course. Some of my closest friends own trucks. I like having friends who own trucks for those times when I need something moved that requires a truck.

I can also confirm that every one of my friends who owns a truck puts things in the bed of their trucks.

Firewood. Power tools. Golf clubs. Bicycles. Camping gear. Christmas trees. Fishing poles. Lawn mowers.

They all use their trucks as trucks.

But as you drive around town today, just think:

More than one-third of the trucks you pass have never actually been used as a truck.

This means that one third of truck owners bought their truck either thinking they might need to haul something someday (but never did) or they just wanted to be someone who owned a truck.

I think both of these scenarios are hilarious.

Library and restroom problems

I mentioned an unfortunate encounter in a restroom last week, and I was asked to elaborate. Here is the elaboration:

Years ago, I was returning a book to the library. The librarian informed me that late fees were due on the item, so I removed my wallet and offered up my money with a smile.

“Best two dollars I’ve ever spent,” I said. I was serious. The fine had allowed me to keep the book long enough to finish reading it, and the money was going to a great cause.

Win-win, I thought.

The librarian disagreed. She was annoyed with my flippant attitude about my overdue fine, explaining to me that fines are designed to encourage patrons to return books on time.

“Someone else might’ve been waiting for this book,” she said.

I explained to her that when you create a system wherein a patron can spend a small amount of money for the convenience of keeping the book, some people are going to take advantage of your offering.

She explained that it wasn’t an offering. It was an overdue fine, charged to patrons who failed to return books on time.

I explained that she could call it whatever she wanted, but I preferred to think of it as a convenience cost.

This eventually devolved into me telling the librarian that she didn’t even own the books. As a resident of the town, I actually had greater claim on the book than she did, since I lived and paid taxes in the town and she did not.

The discussion became heated on both sides. Not the typical hushed tones of a library setting.

My anger was not surprising. I hate when librarians try to make me feel badly about returning books late. While I adore librarians and call several of them my friends, the occasional holier-than-thou attitude that I have received upon returning something late has always irked me. If you design a system that allows me to pay money for returning an item late absent any other repercussions, don’t be surprised, disappointed, or annoyed when I return items late.

When I received my library card, I agreed to the paying overdue fines. I didn’t agree to the finger wagging, passive-aggressive sighs of disgust or the ineffectual attempts to shame me for valuing time over money.

In the librarian’s defense, I may have been a little aggressive with my tone. This issue had annoyed me enough over the years that it’s possible I saw this as an opportunity to finally take a stand.

The discussion became so heated that after paying my fine, I turned and stormed out of the library. But as I reached the outer hallway, I turned again and charged into the adjacent restroom, still heated about the exchange but also needing to pee, only to find myself standing over a half-naked woman sitting on the toilet.

In my defense, it was a small, single occupancy restroom. I took about four steps before I was looming over her, but admittedly, those four steps happened before I even noticed that she was there.

Apparently the woman had also been wearing some kind of jumper that had required her to be more naked than I have ever been in a public restroom.

It was an uncomfortable moment for both of us, but perhaps slightly more uncomfortable for her. Perhaps even a little frightening.

And yes, part of the blame falls on the more than half-naked woman for failing to lock the door to the single occupancy restroom, but had I not been so angry, I may have offered a courtesy knock before entering. At the very least, I wouldn’t have made it all the way across the restroom before noticing her presence.

I apologized as I turned and exited the restroom. Then I fled the building.

No need to subject the poor woman to my presence one more time.

I felt awful for plowing into the restroom like that, and I certainly accept some of the blame for my action. But I also placed some blame on that librarian, who had so enraged me by casting aspersions on my more-than-reasonable behavior.

She may not have been standing in that restroom with me, but her aura was still with me.

Happily, the system of charging fines for overdue items has been eliminated by many libraries in recent years, thereby eliminating the need and opportunity for librarians to scold me for returning items late.

Little did they know that this change in policy may also be protecting half-naked women in restrooms from unexpected intruders.

But I was also more than happy to pay the overdue fines when I returned a book late, and I still am. I really do see overdue fines as a means of compensating the library system for a convenience that they provide.

Keep a book an extra week or two. Add a few dollars to the library’s coffers.

Instead of eliminating the fines, perhaps libraries could have simply removed the smarmy response that I have very occasionally received from less-than-pleased librarians who find my willingness to exchange money for time abhorrent.

They should read my upcoming book, “Someday Is Today,” which hits bookstore shelves on June 7. It’s all about valuing time over money.

With luck, it might even find its way onto the shelf of your local library. If so, return it a few days late for me.

Think of it as an act of solidarity.

 

This pandemic is better.

It looks like we may be coming to the end of many of the pandemic mitigation strategies that have consumed so much of the world, including our schools. Just this week, my students and I were given the option to remove our masks. Though many continue to wear them – to protect themselves and those around them – it was a welcomed change in my classroom. Thanks to vaccine rates in the northeast exceeding 75% and more and infection rates plummeting, we are slowly returning to some new version of normal.

As we’ve struggled through the past two years of teaching in a pandemic, I’ve heard many justifiable concerns over what this pandemic has done to our children, and it’s true.

Our kids have been through a lot. Fear and anxiety rule the day. Depression and suicide are on the rise. Important time spent learning has been lost. It’s been a devastating time for so many children and their families.

But I’ve also been reminding parents about how lucky we are, too.

If you think the pandemic has been hard on kids, try to imagine how hard racism has been on children of color, both historically and still today.

If you think the pandemic has been hard on kids, try to imagine how hard life must have been for a gay or lesbian or transgender child growing up a decade or two ago, and still today.

If you think the pandemic has been hard on kids, try to imagine how hard life was for disabled and neurodiverse children prior to the Americans with Disabilities Act, IDEA, and all the legislation designed to protect and support these kids.

This is not to say that any of these problems have been solved, either. Not by a long shot. But there was a time, not long ago, when the pandemics of racism and bigotry raged like a wildfire in the American schoolhouse. Less than a single lifetime ago, black and white children in many places in this country did not attend school together. Black and white children were segregated, and it required the National Guard in some places to end this bigoted policy.

There was a time, a hell of a lot less than a lifetime ago, when gay, lesbian, and transgender kids remained silent about their gender and sexuality lest they be ostracized by their communities.

In many places in America, this remains the case today.

All of these issues continue to be enormous problems today, but compared to when I was growing up, things have vastly improved.

My children go to school in racially diverse classrooms. They have black friends. They have friends in the LGBTQ community.

My daughter is a member of an inclusivity club at school, designed to “promote an environment of acceptance and inclusivity within their diverse community and to bring awareness to cultural celebrations throughout the year.”

She’s also a member of Pridefully You, a club “intended to be a supportive space for members of the LGBTQIA+ community and their allies.”

Last night at dinner, Clara referred to one of her friends with the pronouns “them” without missing a beat. Last week she explained to me why one of her peers uses the pronouns she/they. Charlie corrected me on the use of someone’s pronouns last week.

I teach in a classroom in a relatively affluent superb in Connecticut where less than half of my students are white. When my students and I talk about the history of segregation in our country and policies that once removed students with special needs from the general population, we look around and are appalled at how many of us would no longer be together if racism, bigotry, and intolerance still determined school attendance.

The pandemic made school less than ideal from the spring of 2020 through today. It was oftentimes hard, disappointing, infuriating, frightening, and ineffective.

It was especially hard on those who experienced one of those milestone years.

But it also sucked to attend school in 1952 and 1963 and 1981 and 1993 when the mental health needs of a transgender boy or a black girl or a lesbian sophomore or a Peruvian immigrant were often, if not almost always, ignored. It sucked to attend school in a time when white children attended one school and black children attended an inferior school. It sucked to attend school for children with Downs Syndrome who were forced into highly restrictive environments far away from their more typical peers.

This is not to minimize the pandemic caused by COVID-19. I have spent the last two years teaching, so I understand the struggle and suffering. Since the fall of 2021, I have spent every day in a room of two dozen students, masked, socially distanced, and missing so many things that were once integral parts of the fabric of the school day and year. I have watched my students, my colleagues, and my wife get sick and battle this disease. I’ve witnessed the struggles of my own children as the pandemic raged on.

But this is not the first pandemic that our children have suffered. If you’re white and middle class, it may be the first pandemic that you or your children are experiencing, but the losses that your children have suffered over the last two years pale in comparison to the losses once suffered and are still suffered today by children of color, immigrants, kids in the LGBTQ community, non-English speakers, students with disabilities, and many more.

This is a pandemic causes by a virus, but the pandemic of racism, bigotry, and intolerance has been raging for as long as children have attended school. Let’s not forget this as we lament the losses and struggles of the last two years.

My children have lost much. Struggled mightily. Experienced enormous fear and anxiety.

But thank goodness they attended school in 2020 and 2021 and 2022, when they can sit beside a black student and a transgender student and a student of special needs and an openly gay student and a non-English speaking refugee in a diverse classroom predicated on the belief that all children deserve equality and respect.

The COVID-19 pandemic has been indescribably hard, but I’d take this pandemic over the bigoted and intolerant pandemics of the past any day.

Why Stories?

Earlier this summer, I delivered a talk at TEDxBerkshires on why it’s important to tell stories.

Here’s the recording.

Watch it, then tell a story.

We had a dance party.

Somewhere along the way on Saturday, Charlie discovered that glass jars, flashlights, and food coloring could produce a disco ball effect.

Probably read it in some stupid book.

Shortly thereafter, a party was being planned. Clara and Charlie prepared a playlist. Games and snacks were decided upon. Outfits were chosen. A schedule was made.

I was not exactly excited about this party. I thought it might last ten minutes at best. The kids would dance to a couple songs then quickly discover that parties require more than disco balls and playlists.

I was wrong.

The kids started out dancing to a handful of songs from their playlist while Elysha and I watched.

This was followed by a high energy game of Taco Cat Goat Cheese Pizza. Elysha won, as always, but Clara was just a single card away. Music continued to play during the game, including Springsteen’s “Thunder Road.”

“I played this one for you, Dad,” Clara said.

Then the kids danced some more. Elysha and I joined for a bit.

This was followed by a game of Simon Says. I’m the greatest Simon of Simon Says history, so the kids had a hard time not getting called out.

Then more dancing.  The party ended with Charlie and I dancing to “Dynamite.” Raising our hands in the air. Jumping around. Laughing.

I was actually sad when it was over.

My original thought was for the party to end almost as quickly as it began. Send the kids to bed early so that Elysha and I could watch a movie.

I’m so happy my plans fell apart and it turned out that the kids were right.

Storytelling!

Speak Up Storytelling, in partnership with Wolcott School, it thrilled to announce our third annual fundraising event on Saturday, March 19 at 7:00 PM EST.

Due to ongoing pandemic restrictions, this show will be produced virtually via Zoom.

Join us as Wolcott staff members, including our school nurse, Tracey Roberts, special education teacher Tamara Maldonado, former student and current teaching assistant Kayla Yousman, fifth grade teacher Matthew Dicks, and more will be telling hilarious and heartfelt stories from their school days.

Hosted, of course, by Elysha Dicks, kindergarten teacher at Webster Hill School.

Tickets are a suggested $10 donation per household, and all proceeds from the show will be used to support our Welcoming Schools initiative to provide support and resources to families in need.

Hope to see you on March 19 for a great show for a great cause!

Click here for tickets.

Resolution update: February 2022

Every month I report the progress of my yearly goals in order to monitor progress (or the lack thereof) and hold myself accountable.  The following are the result from February 2022.PERSONAL FITNESS

1. Don’t die.

I still don’t have any feeling in my upper left thigh except when it’s occasionally on fire, but I’m otherwise feeling great. I have a nerve conduction test in March, which I’ve been told will be terrible.

Hooray for me.

2. Lose 20 pounds.

I lost the three pounds that I gained in January plus one additional point.

So I’m down exactly one pound in 2022.

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

I can resume sit-ups, push-ups, and planks today. Getting back to 100 per day isn’t going to be easy.

4. Cycle for at least 5 days every week. 

I rode the bike on 22 of 28 days in February, missing five days in a row because of a trip to Bermuda.

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

Handicap established. After playing 81 holes of golf in Bermuda, my handicap is a whopping 35.4.

Should not be hard to lower that by at least 2. I hadn’t swung a club since mid October and was playing in high wind.

I can’t be that bad.

WRITING CAREER

6. Complete my seventh novel.

“Someday is Today” is complete. It hits bookstores on June 7.

I’ve submitted “Storyworthy 2” and my golf memoir to my agent for consideration.

I’ve begun the process of getting my first middle grade novel into shape for publication while tinkering with my next adult novel.

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

The first 40,000 words are in excellent shape and in the hands of my agent. The remaining 40,000 words are still in rough draft form.

I await word from her.

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

I’ve begun writing a new picture book entitled “Hug a Fish.”

I’m also working on a partially written manuscript from 2021 entitled “Who Put the Baby in a Tree?”

9. Complete a memoir.

I have two memoirs in progress:

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.

I think I’ve decided to focus on this one. Writing it will also help inform the musical that my writing partner and I are working on.

I wrote about 5,000 new words in February.

10. Write a new screenplay.

No progress.

11. Write a solo show.

No progress.

12. Write a musical.

Outline (written on the way home from a Moth StorySLAM) received from my writing partner, Kaia.

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

One essay submitted and rejected in January.

14. Write at least four letters to my father.

No progress.

15. Write 100 letters in 2022.

One letter written in February. First one of the year.

16. Convert 365 Days of Elysha into a book.

I’ve passed this project onto my production manager, so does that count as progress?

17. Read at least 12 books. 

I finished John Green’s “The Anthropocene Reviewed” in  February.

I’m now reading “Liar’s Poker” by Michael Lewis and “Matrix” by Lauren Groff.

My list of completed books now includes:

“The Passion Economy”
“Empire of Pain”
“The Anthropocene Reviewed”

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

No progress.

STORYTELLING/SPEAKING CAREER

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

I have abandoned my small, currently frigid office for an actual studio. I spent 10 hours on Saturday recording, and I’ll spend another 10 hours next Saturday, at which point I should have all of the recording for my first course complete.

It’s not a great way to spend a Saturday, but it’s getting the work done.

I’m also purchasing a whisper room, which is a pre-fab recording studio for the basement. This will eliminate my struggles with the noise and interruptions of children, the wind, the neighbor’s dog, our cats, and doorbells.

20. Engage with LinkedIn at least once per week.

Success, though it was fairly easy. I received 11 direct messages in February and responded to each of them.

21. Produce a total of 6 Speak Up storytelling events.

We scheduled our first two shows for 2022:

A benefit show for my school on March 19 and a live, outdoor show on July 13 in partnership with the Hill-stead Museum.

We’ll be scheduling additional shows soon. Venues are clamoring for our return, and I think our pandemic pause might end soon.

22. Pitch myself to at least 3 upcoming TEDx events with the hopes of being accepted by one.

No progress.

23. Attend at least 6 Moth events with the intention of telling a story.

I attended a Moth StorySLAM in February at Housing Works in NYC.

My first of 2022.

24. Win at least one Moth StorySLAM.

DONE! I won the February StorySLAM in New York. I’m on a roll. Four StorySLAM victories in a row!

25. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

Waiting for the next Moth GrandSLAM to be scheduled.

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

Recording was going to commence in February. It did not. March?

27. Convert my YouTube channel into an actual channel. 

Progress! My production manager has begun to structure and re-design the channel, and I’ve been accumulating content for release.

28. Perform stand-up at least 3 times in 2022.

It appears that the open mic comedy night is now running at The Elbow Room in West Hartford, and I found a listing of possible open mics throughout Connecticut.

I’m getting my five minutes ready.

29. Pitch a story to This American Life.

No progress.

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

No progress.

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

One newsletter sent in January. One newsletter sent out in February.

I’m two behind.

HOME

32. Clear the basement.

The job is about 80% complete. Huge progress. The basement is officially organized. I need to eliminate many, many things from the basement now, which may require a dumpster.

33. Organize the children’s books.

Enormous progress made. Books have been removed from the kids’ bedrooms and divided into three bins:

Keep in rotation for kids/studentsStore for future grandchildrenGive away to those in need

I’ve been slowly emptying the giveaway bin.

FAMILY/FRIENDS

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

Done.

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

I was away from the kids for four days while in Bermuda, but Elysha took pictures during that time, so done!

I need to take more pictures of Clara, who avoids the camera more than her brother.

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

No photos taken of just Elysha and me in January or February.

I’m a giant failure, particularly given that Elysha is so damn pretty.

But my friend Kate Byroade has offered a suggestion that should work well going forward.

37. Plan a reunion of the Heavy Metal Playhouse.

No progress.

38. I will not comment, positively or negatively, about 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. One of my students arrived to school with her hair styled in a new way and asked me what I thought.

I said, “I think you’re a fantastic person, a kind-hearted soul, and I think the work you’ve been doing with fractions this month has been amazing.”

She smiled and didn’t ask me again about her hair, which did look lovely.

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

This turns out to be easier than I thought, at least as long as I’m teaching. I constantly give my students positive feedback, and I compliment my own children quite a bit.

It’s also fairly easy when I’m playing golf. While my friends and I relentlessly tease each other about bad shots and stupid decisions on the golf course, we also constantly compliment one another about well played shots. I was worried that while in Bermuda, I would need to consciously compliment people to meet this goal, but it turned out to be automatic.

In an effort to raise the bar, I complimented a McDonald’s employee on his cheerfulness every day and four of my colleagues for things they do all the time that perhaps go unnoticed.

40. Surprise Elysha at least six times in 2022.

Yesterday I met Elysha with a Starbucks caramel macchiato, which doesn’t sound like much but it was perfectly timed. It also meant that I had to enter a Starbucks, which is like a distant planet to me, and ask for something “small, sweet, and delicious” for my wife.

When the barista suggested a caramel macchiato, I thought, “I don’t understand the words he just said, but if the caramel in the drink is the same caramel that I put on my ice cream sundaes, it will probably be good.”

So I said, “Yes, please.”

Elysha was very pleased.

Earlier in the month, I presented Elysha with her latest Pusheen Club box, filled with an assortment of movie-themed Pusheen gifts.

I also presented Elysha with the complete set of Smith College china – not on Valentine’s Day like I had planned because I’m an idiot who ruined the surprise – but 10 days before.

That’s three surprises so far in 2022.

41. Play poker at least six times in 2022.

Two games played in February. One virtually and one live in Bermuda.

Two in total in 2022.

Another virtual game scheduled for March.

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

No progress. We have spoken and texted but not yet gotten together.

NEW PROJECTS

43. Create an emergency preparedness kit for each car.

No progress.

44. Memorize the lyrics to at least 5 favorite songs. 

I’m still working on “Come on Eileen” by Dexy’s Midnight Runners.

I’ve also nearly memorized the lyrics to Queen’s “Fat Bottomed Girls.” Elysha questioned the choice, but it’s Queen, damn it.

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

I missed a week while in Bermuda but otherwise done!

46. Convert our wedding video to a transferable format.

Another task passed off to my production manager, who has been working on it.

47. Memorize 5 new poems.

I considered memorizing “Casey at the Bat” or “The Charge of the Light Brigade,” and I may still try one or both, but they are long, and I wanted one a little shorter to start, so I’m still working on “I’m Nobody! Who Are You?” by Emily Dickinson.

I also made a list of poems that I’ve committed to memory, to ensure they remain committed to memory through occasional practice.

48. Write to at least 3 colleges about why they should hire me.

No progress.

49. Understand Instagram better.

No progress.

50. Complete my Eagle Scout project.

No progress. I started plotting the completion of this task in early February, but it brought back feelings of disappointment and regret that annoyed the hell out of me. Boy Scouts was the most positive force in my life when I was young. I still use so many of the skills that I learned in Scouting today. Yet to miss out on becoming an Eagle Scout because of a near-fatal car accident and the Boy Scouts of America’s unwillingness to grant me an extension still stings, even 30 years later.

I’ll complete the project, but I won’t be as happy about it as I once thought.

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

Done.