Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 135

My new toilet

Charlie took a cereal box and made me a pencil holder shaped like a toilet.

Pencils are kept in the taller section (the toilet tank).

Erasers in the toilet itself.

The lid of the toilet even goes up and down.

“Number 2 pencils, only, Dad,” he said. “Get it? Number 2?”

I got it.

How did these kids get so smart? When I was 9 years old, I was scratching in the dirt with sticks.

Worst death on film

A list of my worst movie deaths… the ones that still haunt me:

Volcano (1997): A rescue worker carrying an injured man on his shoulders leaps from a subway train into lava so he can toss the injured man to safety and then slowly melts to death in front of his friends.

Jack Reacher (2012): A low level bad guy has failed the big boss. The big boss explains that he survived a Siberian labor camp by chewing off his frostbitten fingers to avoid gangrene. If the low level bad guy can do the same, he gets to live. He tries but can’t. He is immediately killed.

Admittedly, I have not watched the gruesome horror movies of the last decade or two, so there are certainly horrific death scenes that I have thankfully not witnessed.

When it comes to television, there are also two:

The brutal murder of Abraham and Glen at the hands of Negan (and Lucille) in The Walking Dead:

I loved the show, but those deaths were so disturbing and haunted me for so long that I stopped watching the show and have yet to go back.

The death of Viserys Targaryen at the hands of Khal Drogo in Game of Thrones.

Though he certainly deserved to die, the means of death – molten gold poured over his head – was horrific. The image remained with me for weeks, and it still haunts me from time to time.

When Harry Met Santa

Want to see one of the best commercials – and possibly one of the best stories – I have ever seen?

Check out this  incredible, four minute commercial for Norway’s postal service, which uses vignettes so brilliantly to tell the full, complete, and surprising story of a man over the course of several years.

The story is also funny, poignant, surprising, revealing, but best of all, it’s so damn real despite the fact it couldn’t possibly be real. The specificity of detail used to convey character and emotion is breathtaking. The cinematography – from the opening scene to the final shot – is perfection.

It also somehow manages to say so much beyond its simple endorsement of the postal service. It’s both tiny and enormous at the very same time.

In fact, it’s just the kind of commercial that so many companies should be looking to create:

Don’t tell us what you do or how you do it. Tell us how we should feel about what you do.

Watch it more than once. Each time, you’ll see something different. I promise.

Cake in face

A Dear Prudence advice seeker wrote:

“I got married just before Christmas and am hoping to be divorced or annulled by the end of January. Obviously, that wasn’t the plan originally…”

The woman explained that when it came to her wedding, the only hard-and-fast rule was that her future husband not rub cake in her face at the reception.

“Instead, he grabbed me by the back of the head and shoved my head down into it. It was planned since the cake was DESTROYED, and he had a bunch of cupcakes as backup.”

Now she wants an annulment, and Prudence supports the decision.

As a wedding DJ, I have seen many wedding cake misadventures. Over the years, I also prevented many misadventures by whispering warnings to wild-eyed husbands about the hazards of making a mess with the cake.

I’ve also witnessed many, many couples have fun with the cake, playfully smearing frosting on noses and chins and cheeks.

The worst moment I’ve ever witnessed at a wedding took place early in my DJ career. After the bride smushed a bit of frosting on her newly minted husband’s nose, he reached into the cake up to his wrist, extracted an enormous clump of cake and frosting, then smeared it all over his bride’s face.

She actually laughed throughout the entire cake cut, but when she made it to the restroom to clean up and saw the state of her face and hair and part of her dress, she burst into tears and left the wedding, sequestering herself in her car in the parking lot and refusing to come out.

Since we had yet to open the dance floor, the wedding ground to a halt as Bengi and I played slow songs in hopes of biding our time until the bride returned. At one point, a handful of younger guests requested Metallica’s “Enter Sandman,” a song we had never and would never again play at a wedding.

But desperate to make something happen, we played it that night, followed by a Sinatra ballad.

Eventually I went to the car to speak to the bride and assure her that her guests were having a great time and completely unaware of her situation. I reminded her that she laughed throughout the cake cut, so although she was now rightfully upset, everyone assumed that the cake cut had gone swimmingly, so returning to the wedding would be no big deal.

Nothing about this statement was true, of course. As a wedding DJ, I’ve often said things like, “This happens all the time” and “You’re only running a tiny bit late” and “I’m sure your mother just misspoke.”

Anything to improve the spirit of a bride or groom.

Eventually, the bride exited her car and returned to dance with her father. The groom then danced with his mother, then the bride and groom came together on the dance floor alongside their bridal party to officially open the floor to dancing.

I’m not sure what took place after the wedding, but for the duration of the party, the couple seemed perfectly happy together.

Nearly two decades later, I like to think that they are still together. Sadly, our database shows that we’ve done eight weddings at that venue over the years, and I can’t quite recall which couple is was, so attempting to ascertain their marital status is impossible.

But of all the couples I’ve ever met while working as a DJ or minister, that was the couple I thought least likely to stay together.

Still, I’m not so sure about Prudences’ advice. Her husband was admittedly stupid, inconsiderate, and disrespectful, but she just married the guy.

Did her husband really mean to do harm? Were his intentions malicious, or could it be one of those unfortunate moments when he didn’t realize how serious her request really was?

It happens.

It’s terrible to experience your first marital bump in the road on your wedding day, but did she expect smooth sailing throughout the marriage?

Then again, Elysha probably has it right. When I asked if she thought the bride was being reasonable, Elysha said, “There’s other stuff going on there. It’s not just the cake.”

Probably true.

Still, I feel for the couple. One of the most joyous moments of your life was ruined by one stupid decision.

Forgiveness is hard, but if the bride’s decision to annul or divorce is really about the cake and nothing more, I think it might also be warranted.

“I’m so done with the pandemic”

People who say they are “so done with this pandemic” (a phrase I’ve been hearing a lot lately in conjunction with arguments to remove mask mandates, end vaccine mandates, and eliminate other forms of virus mitigation) would’ve been utterly useless to our country in 1943.

Two years into World War II. Another two years before we defeated the Nazis and Japanese.

Or 1867. Two years into the Civil War. Another two years before we finally reunited our country.

Or 1777. Two years into our War for Independence. Six more years before we freed ourselves from the shackles of British tyranny.

“I’m so done with the pandemic” is a perfectly reasonable sentiment. After nearly two years of pandemic protocols, it makes sense to feel frustrated and tired. But to use that sentiment as an excuse to ignore the recommendations of public health officials, forgo the overwhelming needs of our hospitals and healthcare workers, and simply quit now is a pathetic choice.

Justice Neil Gorsuch, for example, refuses to wear a mask on the bench, forcing Justice Sonia Sotomayor to participate in proceedings remotely because she has diabetes, a condition that puts her at high risk for serious illness, or even death, from COVID-19. When the omicron variant arrived on our shores, Chief Justice John Roberts requested that the justices wear a mask to protect their colleague.

All complied except for Gorsuch. He is apparently done with the pandemic, too.

These frail, pathetic, Faberge eggs act as if Americans have never been forced to make uncomfortable, collective sacrifices for more than two years before now.

Thank goodness these fragile snowflakes weren’t alive when Americans were battling for the very existence of our nation and the sacrifices required were even greater than they are today.

Ted Lasso Season 1 recap

I’ve completed season 1 of Ted Lasso. Here are my thoughts about the last few episodes and the season as a whole.

Again, spoilers ahead if you are one of the three other Americans who haven’t seen the show:
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I still believe this show was ideal for release during the pandemic. Though I think it would’ve been well received at any time, the spirit of Ted Lasso and the characters around him is joyous, ebullient, and absolutely infectious, which is just what we need these days. The show is absent any real stakes. It represents idyllic, oftentimes hilarious, heartwarming, stress-free viewing.

Yes, Lasso’s team faces relegation as the season progresses, but beyond a soccer team being forced to play the following season in a different league, nothing potentially disastrous ever looms on the horizon for any of these characters.

Ted gets divorced, but the decision is ultimately mutual and absent any real acrimony.

Keeley breaks up with Jamie, but Jamie handles the break-up well, and Keeley moves onto Roy, who is a far better boyfriend overall.

Both break-ups are nearly drama-free.

All of this seems particularly well suited for a world already filled more stakes than we’ve ever seen before. The show premiered on August 14, 2020, at a point in the pandemic when uncertainty still reigned, the delta variant was on the rise, and vaccines were still being developed. It was also the summer of protests following the murder of George Floyd, and Americans were on the cusp of a Presidential election like no other.

It was a difficult, oftentimes frightening time in America. It still is. We didn’t need the next “Breaking Bad” or “Killing Eve” or “Dexter” to debut. Americans needed something to remind us of a world where things work out and people get along. Ted Lasso arrived at exactly the right moment to fulfill those needs.
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The show remains surprisingly free of antagonists. Even Jamie Tartt was redeemed in the final episode when we learn that his father is a rotten human being who demands that he play selfishly. Jamie not a bad man. He’s a man plagued by an overbearing, unkind, apparently volatile father.

The note sent from Lasso to Tartt in the closing moments of the season was an especially beautiful moment. A real Ted Lasso moment.

One could argue that Rebecca’s ex-husband, Rupert, is an antagonist, but he is little more than a thorn in the side of Rebecca. He does nothing to harm Ted Lasso or the team in any way. He’s a jackass, for sure, but not one who needs to be defeated.
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The final moments of the final soccer match of the season, when Richmond scores the goal that ties the game, is not filmed well. The surprise that Jamie Tartt and Manchester City is going to charge back to score the winning goal in the final seconds was spoiled by the way the celebration is filmed, absent any reaction shots of Manchester City players when Richmond scores.

Almost immediately after the Richmond goal was scored, I said to Elysha, “Uh oh.”

I knew that Manchester City was going to score just by the choices made in editing.

Then, as Jamie Tartt sprinted downfield, the choice to keep the shot on Tartt and not show any Richmond opponent as a possible savior, made the goal all but certain.

That surprise could have been much better preserved with better editing.
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Ted’s absence from his six year-old son is still ridiculous. It runs counter to everything that Ted represents. A man who delivers individually boxed biscuits to his boss every day couldn’t possibly allow his son to grow up without him. It’s a flaw in the show. A messy bit that the audience is expected to overlook, but I simply cannot. Even if I’m to accept that Ted traveled across an ocean to give his wife space, their divorce should have freed Ted up to return home rather than agreeing to coach the team the next season.

The UK soccer season runs from August to May, leaving Ted two months free to travel to the United States to be with his boy. It’s just not realistic. It’s sloppy and stupid and annoying. I genuinely love the show and can even see why people have watched it multiple times.

But that doesn’t mean Ted’s absence and continued absence from his son’s life makes any damn sense.

Perhaps season 2 will bring Ted and his son together in some way. Maybe his ex-wife moves to Richmond out of the kindness of her heart. Maybe she’ll get hit by a bus and put into a convenient, longterm, soap opera-like coma. Perhaps she will have her custodial rights revoked after attempting to build a small nuclear reactor in her basement.

I hope so, because if Ted’s absence from his son continues, it undermines the show.
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The theme or message or (in my terminology) thesis statement of the show seems to be this:

Bad people do not exist. Only broken people. And all broken people can be fixed with the right amount of empathy, compassion, and love.

It’s not exactly a realistic view of the world, but it’s a beautiful one, and one that I quite enjoy in 30 minute installments.

I liked Ted Lasso a great deal. It’s not close to my favorite show of all time, but it’s damn good.

I look forward to season 2.

Resolution update: January 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 January 2022.PERSONAL FITNESS

1. Don’t die.

Alive and kicking. Recovered from COVID-19. Recovered from surgery. Still don’t have any feeling in my upper left thigh except when it’s occasionally on fire, but as long as I can swing a golf club again, I’m all good.

2. Lose 20 pounds.

I added three pounds in January.

Great start, Matt.

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

I won’t be able to resume this goal until March 1 at the earliest thanks to my surgery.

4. Cycle for at least 5 days every week. 

I rode the bike on 26 of 31 days in January. I spent much of it listening to music, but I’m also watching “Lost in Space,” which is not quite good enough to warrant spending any focused amount of time watching but is perfect for the distracted viewing of a 45 minute bike ride and the constant interruption of children.

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

Can’t play golf with snow on the ground, though I’ve admittedly done it a few times. But this is a lot of snow.

WRITING CAREER

6. Complete my seventh novel.

I’m doing a final proofread of “Someday is Today.”

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

At last I can turn my eye to fiction. I started writing this past week.

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.

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’ve written about 25,000 words for both, so I really need to choose one and move forward.

Instead, I wrote about 1,000 words in each during January, which was not smart.

10. Write a new screenplay.

No progress.

11. Write a solo show.

No progress.

12. Write a musical.

No progress.

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.

No letters written in January.

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. 

Two books – “The Passion Economy” and “Empire of Pain” – read in January. Being quarantined in my bedroom for four days with COVID-19 helped. I never turned on the television even once, instead focusing on reading, writing and resting.

I’m nearly finished John Green’s “The Anthropocene Reviewed” as well.

Off to a good start.

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. 

Lots of recording happened in January. Lots of re-recording happening in January. Harder than it looks. I need a better office. Mine is small, frigid, and exposed to noise of all sorts: barking dogs, neighborhood children, and the damn wind.

20. Engage with LinkedIn at least once per week.

Success. I responded to 12 comments and queries on LinkedIn in January. My plan was to actually post content to LinkedIn, which I will, but instead of ignoring all of the messages and mentions on LinkedIn, as I typically do, I engaged.

One of those engagements resulted in a new client, so the effort has already paid off.

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. We’re in the midst of a pandemic pause.

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

None progress.

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

I had tickets for a Moth StorySLAM in January, but with infections rates so high, I decided to skip it.

I’ll be back at The Moth in February, ready to tell a story.

24. Win at least one Moth StorySLAM.

No progress.

25. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

No progress.

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

Recording commences in February.

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.

No progress. Waiting for open mics to return.

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. I’m already one behind.

HOME

32. Clear the basement.

Scheduled for mid-February.

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 need to get the large number of giveaway books out of the house now.

FAMILY/FRIENDS

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

Done. The texts were short , but it’s a start.

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

Done.

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

No photos taken of just Elysha and me in January. I need to find a way to remember this.

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 2020 in an effort to reduce the focus on physical appearance in our culture overall.

Done.

I complimented once person on how relaxed and happy they appeared after a day of struggle, but they mistook the compliment as being about their clothing.

I did not correct them.

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. There were two days in January when I had to consciously offer a compliment to someone to meet that goal, and in both cases, I complimented Elysha on something she did.

40. Surprise Elysha at least six times in 2021.

No surprises in January but a great surprise planned for February.

41. Play poker at least six times in 2021.

I have our first game scheduled for Saturday night.

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. Also, I’m driving a friend’s car as I wait for issues with the title to be sorted out by the dealership, so I really need a car before I equip it with an emergency preparedness kit.

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

I’m working on “Come on Eileen” by Dexy’s Midnight Runners. I’ve played it hundreds of times at weddings and listened to it many other times, but damn, I didn’t know half of those lyrics.

Like this one, for example: “Toora loora toora loo rye ay”

What?

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

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 working on “I’m Nobody! Who Are You?” by Emily Dickinson.

I also made a list of poems I have 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.

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

Done.

 

The Privilege Walk

A friend recently told me about “The Privilege Walk.”

The typical college classroom version of this activity involves between 10-40 participants. Throughout the privilege walk, the following statements are read by the facilitator and the participants are asked to take a step forward or backward based on their responses.

This activity forces participants to confront the ways in which society privileges some individuals over others. It is designed to get participants to reflect on the different areas in their lives where they have privilege as well as the areas where they don’t.

The following is the complete set of statements from the classroom version of this activity. I’ve included the steps that I would take had I been participating in The Privilege Walk.

Perhaps you can determine how many steps forward or back you would end up, too.

If your ancestors were forced to come to the USA not by choice, take one step back.If your primary ethnic identity is “American,” take one step forward. FORWARDIf you were ever called names because of your race, class, ethnicity, gender, or sexual orientation, take one step back. BACKIf there were people who worked for your family as servants, gardeners, nannies, etc. take one step forward.If you were ever ashamed or embarrassed of your clothes, house, car, etc. take one step back. BACKIf one or both of your parents were “white collar” professionals: doctors, lawyers, etc. take one step forward. FORWARDIf you were raised in an area where there was prostitution, drug activity, etc. take one step back.If you ever tried to change your appearance, mannerisms, or behavior to avoid being judged or ridiculed, take one step back. BACKIf you studied the culture of your ancestors in elementary school, take one step forward. FORWARDIf you went to school speaking a language other than English, take one step back.If there were more than 50 books in your house when you grew up, take one step forward.If you ever had to skip a meal because there was not enough money to buy food when you were growing up, take one step back.If you were taken to art galleries or plays by your parents, take one step forward.If one of your parents was unemployed or laid off, not by choice, take one step back. BACKIf you have health insurance take one step forward. FORWARDIf you attended private school, take one step forward.If your family ever had to move because they could not afford the rent, take one step back.If you were told that you were beautiful, smart and capable by your parents, take one step forward.If you were ever discouraged from academics or jobs because of race, class, ethnicity, gender or sexual orientation, take one step back. BACKIf you were encouraged to attend college by your parents, take one step forward.If you have a disability take one step backward.If you were raised in a single parent household, take one step back.If your family owned the house where you grew up, take one step forward. FORWARDIf you saw members of your race, ethnic group, gender, or sexual orientation portrayed on television in degrading roles, take one step back.If you own a car take one step forward. FORWARDIf you were ever offered a good job because of your association with a friend or family member, take one step forward.If you were ever denied employment because of your race, ethnicity, gender, or sexual orientation, take one step back.If you were paid less, treated less fairly because of race, ethnicity, gender, or sexual orientation, take one step back.If you were ever accused of cheating or lying because of your race, ethnicity, gender, or sexual orientation, take one step back.If you ever inherited money or property, take one step forward.If you had to rely primarily on public transportation, take one step back.If you attended private school at any point in your life, take one step forward.If you were ever stopped or questioned by the police because of your race, ethnicity, gender, or sexual orientation, take one step back.If you were ever afraid of violence because of your race, ethnicity, gender or sexual orientation, take one step back.If your parents own their own business take one step forward.If you were generally able to avoid places that were dangerous, take one step forward.If you were ever uncomfortable about a joke related to your race, ethnicity, gender or sexual orientation but felt unsafe to confront the situation, take one step back.If you use a TDD Phone system take one step backward.If you were ever the victim of violence related to your race, ethnicity, gender or sexual orientation, take one step back.Imagine you are in a relationship, if you can get married in the State of ___ take one step forward FORWARDIf your parents did not grow up in the United States, take one step back.If your parents attended college take one step forward.If your parents told you that you could be anything you wanted to be, take one step forward.If you are able to take a step forward or backward take two steps forward. FORWARD

My result was three steps forward.

I’m not sure how that compares to others who take The Privilege Walk, but I also know this:

I am a white, cisgendered American man with no physical disabilities or mental illness. This makes me one of the most privileged human beings that has ever walked the planet. Add to this that I am reasonably intelligent and was educated in relatively effective, safe school system, and my privilege knows no bounds.

I even managed to avoid war. My great grandfathers fought in World War I. My grandfathers fought in World War II. My father was drafted and fought in Vietnam. I’m a member of the first generation in a long time not required to risk my life in a foreign land on behalf of my country.

The only thing missing from my remarkable privilege was money. I grew up in a broken home with little money, and I was forced to leave home after graduating high school, but even that is nothing in comparison to the challenges faced by people who not male, white, or cisgendered.

Regardless of the many challenges that I have faced, I hit the lottery in terms of privilege.

When asked how I managed to overcome the admittedly daunting obstacles of my life, I’m happy to point to my hard work, intellectual curiosity, an intense desire to prove myself in the face of those who doubted and dismissed me, and a conscious, purposeful decision to avoid all illegal and potentially addictive drugs during high school and beyond. I’m thrilled to point to those who lifted me up in times of need and mentored me when others chose to abandon me.

Each of these factors were critical to my success.

But all of that would’ve been meaningless had I also been facing the overwhelming challenges of institutional racism or sexism, the discrimination and violence routinely suffered by members of the LGBTQ community, or the added challenges of a physical disability or mental illness.

Imagine if I had been an immigrant facing those same challenges. Imagine what might’ve happened to me had I been educated in a failing school system. How might my life have been different had I been drafted into the military and forced to kill human beings in another country.

I’m not saying I wouldn’t have found a way to succeed, but my slope to success would’ve been far steeper, and the trail would’ve been far longer.

Maybe too steep and too far for even me.

I was supposed to succeed. I was given nearly everything I needed to succeed. My success should be viewed as expected and fairly ordinary. I’m a white, cisgendered American man. The carpet was practically rolled out for me.

I know this is hard for some people to hear. It’s far more appealing to think of yourself as someone who has achieved a level of success based solely upon effort, talent, and gumption. It’s convenient to dismiss your privilege as irrelevant to your rise. It’s easy to ignore that college degree that your parents paid for or the car that they bought you or the private school you attended or the roof available to you whenever you stumbled.

You can still feel good about your success. Proud of your achievements. Happy with yourself for all that you have accomplished. I certainly do. I tell myself that story every day as a means of moving forward and trying even harder. But if you fail to factor in the privilege that you’ve enjoyed if you’re someone like me, you’re lying to yourself and dishonoring the struggle of others.

You’re no better than those cowards who want to pull books about Ruby Bridges or Rosa Parks or Martin Luther King from school libraries because those stories might make their white, privileged children feel bad that black people were owned like livestock by white people less than two lifetimes ago.

Privilege isn’t something convenient to acknowledge, but it’s real. When you refuse to acknowledge it, you simply expose your small, fragile ego, your unwillingness to help others less fortunate than yourself, and your bigotry toward those whose struggles are far greater than you could even imagine.

Three steps forward in The Privilege Walk doesn’t feel like nearly enough steps forward for someone like me.

Happy Days might be too happy

Happy Days debuted 48 years ago today. It ran from 1974 through 1984.

I watched it in re-runs as a kid and enjoyed the hell out of it.

I thought about maybe introducing the kids to the show, then it occurred to me:

Watching Richie Cunningham and the Fonz navigate a world absent of pandemic, insurrection, climate change, and tribalism would only make me hate them for their goddamn happy days.

The show’s title sequence alone was almost too much for me to take.

Maybe in a year or two, if we manage to finally tame this virus and preserve our democracy.

Swearing is not this thing

Charlie, who despises swearing more than anyone I have ever met, said, “The worst movie I could ever imagine would be A Young Boy’s First Introduction to Swearing.” Not a bad title for a film. I’m not exactly known for my swearing, nor is Elysha, but Charlie’s opposition borders on fanatic. I don’t know where he gets this aversion.