Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 141

My football friends

The Patriots defeated the Buffalo Bills on Monday night in one of the most important football games of the year.

I’m not complaining, but Elysha decided not to watch the game with me. Granted, I was teaching a workshop until after 10:00 PM that night, so I was forced to watch the game on tape delay, meaning that instead of running in its customary 8:15 PM until 11:30 PM time slot, I finished watching the game closer to 2:00 AM.

I guess that was a little late for her, especially given that we had to work the next day.

Or technically the same day.

And yes, if the Patriots had lost, the three hours of sleep that I enjoyed that night might’ve made the next day hard, but happily, the good guys won, in spectacular fashion, so I popped out of bed at my usual 5:00 AM with a spring in my step.

It’s amazing what a victory can do for the spirit.

But since I was watching on tape delay, I wasn’t even able to text with friends during the game, as I usually would. Text messages were piling up on my phone all night, but not wanting to spoil the outcome, I had to put my phone in the other room and ignored it completely.

Watching a football game late at night, all alone, isolated from the world, isn’t the best way to enjoy the action.

Happily, I had my cats.

I know it sounds silly, but having Tobi and Pluto with me all night, sometimes on my lap, sometimes flanking me, and sometimes wrapped around my neck, was so much better than watching alone. Granted, they didn’t get quite as animated as me on that ridiculous unnecessary roughness call. They didn’t respond to my joyous remarks about the Bills’ inability to stop the run even though they knew it was coming. I’m not even sure if they were aware of the score at all times.

But they were with me. Squeezing their little bodies up against mine. Purring incessantly. Dozing off at times. Most importantly, desiring to be with me until late into the night. Sitting alongside me as they are right now as I write these words:

Tobi to my right, about a foot away, asleep on the radiator, and Pluto lying across my forearms, making it harder than necessary to type.

I’d much rather have Elysha sitting alongside me. I’d be thrilled if Charlie – who loves football – could’ve been watching the game with me. I’d even take Clara – not a football fan and prone to off-topic comments at the worst moments.

But cats are pretty great, too. It’s so odd that a species of animal so unlike us in so many ways has not only learned to coexist with human beings but genuinely prefers spending time with us.

My cats could’ve been doing anything while I watched that football game, but they chose me.

It’s good to have such faithful companions. They may not understand the complexities of a zone defense or the risks inherent in blitzing the safety. but they sit quietly and let you know that you’re loved, which is at least on par with a Patriots victory.

The end of candy forever

I took Charlie to the dentist last week to have sealant applied to his teeth to reduce the chances of cavities.

When Charlie and the dentist remerged from the office, the dentist said, “Okay, no candy or sticky foods. Okay?”

“Sure,” I said.

Ten minutes later, we were in 7-11, buying milk. Charlie asked for a bag of potato chips, and I said yes. He had been nervous about the sealant but had handled it well. He deserves some salty goodness.

As we left 7-11, Charlie looked back and said in the saddest, more forlorn voice I’ve ever heard, “I’m really going to miss candy.”

It took me a moment to understand what he meant. Then it hit me.

“Charlie,” I said. “The dentist only meant no candy today. Not forever. You know that. Right?”

Charlie stopped and sighed the biggest sigh I’ve ever heard him sigh. “Oh, thank God,” he said. “I was so sad about never having candy again.”

“You thought you’d never be able to eat another piece of candy in your life?”

“Yes,” he said. “And I was so sad.”

It sounds silly, but knowing that Charlie was that sad for about 15 minutes still breaks my heart. I think about him sitting in the back seat of my car, running through all the things that he loves in his mind and knowing he could never taste them again.

Licorice laces. Starburst. Lollipops. Skittles. Candy bars.

Something about knowing how sad he was, even if it was short lived and unfounded, kills me.

It’s also a good reminder of how strange and scary the world can seem to children. Misconceptions abound. Confusion and misinterpretation are commonplace among kids. It’s why we teach them about science and history. It’s why we sit them down and teach them about sex. It’s why we work like hell to get kids to trust us, so that they are willing to tell us about the things they may have misconstrued or misjudged. It’s why we keep kids talking as much as possible, as long as possible.

The more they say, the more we know about how they see the world.

You never know what misguided sadness or fear might be lingering in their heart. It’s impossible to predict how one offhanded comment or misunderstood message might have them feeling frightened or confused. You can’t know what tiny bit of stupidity, uttered by a classmate, could have then reeling inside.

Charlie’s misunderstanding was only about sugary sweetness. It wasn’t the end of the world. But in the mind of a nine year-old boy, it was the end of an important part of his world. The sweet part. The part he truly adores.

Even 15 minutes of world ending sadness is too much.

Charlie and the Box

Charlie made a movie.

Not surprising – since he and I talk storytelling a lot – it has all of the components of a well crafted story:

A clear, identifiable locationA protagonist facing a considerable obstacleAbsence of unnecessary, self serving, storying-killing discourseA lean, clean plotSuspenseHumorA dash of cognitive dissonanceA singular moment at the end of the story that says it allOperantly metaphorical

I’ve only watched it about 100 times.

Granted, I love the actor more than most.

Surgery survival tips and stupid mistakes

I’m happy to report that I’m starting to feel better post surgery. I’m still dealing with some unexpected (and slightly inexplicable) neurological complications, but otherwise, I’m well on the mend.

Three strategies that helped me get through a challenging recovery.

Theme songs:

Early on in the recovery, moving from one position to another was extremely challenging. It hurt a lot, so playing a theme song on my phone or even in my head actually helped a lot. The songs inspired me to suck it up and move.

Mainstays included the theme to Superman, “I’m Still Standing” by Elton John, “Born to Run” by Bruce Springsteen, “The Show Must Go On” by Queen, and The Imperial March from Star Wars.

Darth Vader’s song.

Remembering that pain is temporary:

Chronic pain is an awful thing, but post-surgical pain is temporary. It’s fleeting, and it’s theoretically getting better every day, so I reminded myself continually to not allow it to dominate my life.

I continually assured myself that it would be gone before I knew it.

I’m experiencing some nerve pain in my leg now as a result of the surgery, and though the pain can be sharp, biting, and persistent, I constantly remind myself that it’s also phantom pain, detached from any actual injury. My nerves are firing off pain signals even though I’m not actually hurt.

It doesn’t make it any less painful, but it makes it feel slightly less relevant. It diminishes it’s importance, thus it makes me feel a little better.

Still, I can’t wait for it to stop.

Having good friends:

I received constant calls and text messages from a handful of friends throughout my recovery, including jut last night. When you’re home, alone, and suffering, it’s really good to know you haven’t been forgotten.

You can’t call and check on a person too often, whether that’s recovering from surgery, battling COVID, or grieving over a recent loss.

I also had four Egg McMuffins delivered to me during my two weeks of at-home recovery, as well as dinner at least twice. The parents of my students were also exceedingly kind and generous as well.

I’m also thoroughly incapacitated due to my surgery, unable to lift for than 10 pounds safely, so my neighbor, Andrew, did some heavy lifting for me whenever I asked. It’s good to have someone living next door who is always willing to help.

Then there was Dan, who delivered an Egg McMuffin to my home, saw the enormous box containing Charlie’s new basketball hoop, which I could not assemble given my condition.

In fact, I wouldn’t be able to safely assemble it until February 1.

So Dan returned later that afternoon with his tools to assemble it for me.

I didn’t ask. He just did it.

It actually took two sessions to complete since we were rained upon during the first half of the assembly. In total, Dan volunteered nearly four hours of his time to assemble that hoop.

My plan was to hire an handyman for the job.

Fantastic friends. A supportive wife. A son who constantly asked me how I was feeling. A daughter who offered to help at every turn.

This is how you get through surgical recovery without losing your mind.

My one mistake:

I didn’t understand my surgery at all. The surgeon gave me materials to read, but everyone told me how simple and easy hernia surgery would be. Friends told me how they were on their feet and back at work in three days, so even though the surgeon specifically warned me about how painful the surgery would be, I ignored him, assuming he was being overly cautious.

I didn’t even understand what the surgery entailed, so when I first removed my dressings and saw my abdomen, I couldn’t believe it. I was expecting a small incision somewhere near my belly button. Instead, I had five, two-inch incisions stretching across my abdomen in a half moon shape. They were glued shut, so I could see them clearly. I looked like Frankenstein.

I was horrified. I had no idea.

It turns out that yes, some hernia surgeries are much easier, and the recovery is much faster. Others, like mine, require three hours in surgery and have an exceedingly demanding recovery period.

The material that the surgeon gave me to read explained all that, but I put it aside and moved forward with both ignorance and bravado.

So if you’re ever having surgery, don’t do that.

On Saturday, I shot hoops with Charlie after Dan finished assembling the hoop, which is to say I shot the ball three times before the pain in my abdomen started screaming at me, reminding me that this was also a stupid decision.

Too early to play basketball or even toss up a shot.

Instead, I watched Charlie play, which wasn’t nearly as good as playing with him but not too shabby either.

Perfect parenting for nearly two hours

There are definitely days when your parenting leaves something to be desired.

You say the wrong thing.

Make the wrong decision.

Let your child down.

Parenting is a long and arduous path. There are bound to be slips, stumbles, and falls. My list of parenting failures is both long and storied. On my first night of solo parenting, while six week old Clara was asleep in her crib, I left the house to get a Diet Coke at 7-11, forgetting that my infant daughter existed.

On Saturday, Charlie received his second vaccination shot. As he panicked about the prospect of the needle, and as Elysha and the nurse calmly convinced him that all would be well, I began bribing the boy with toys from a local store, even after we had told him that we would absolutely not be buying any toys this close to Christmas.

Had he held out any longer, I might’ve offered him the keys to my car.

So yes, I’m not the perfect parent. Not even close.

That’s why it’s so important to acknowledge those days when you somehow – via carefully planning, blind luck, or an iron will – hit one out of the park. Remember your parenting successes so that the failures don’t sting quite as much.

So…

On Friday night, Clara asked if the family could just sit around the fire for the evening and read. So that’s what we did. For a solid 75 minutes, we all sat in front of a roaring fire, surrounded by Christmas decorations, and quietly read.

Clara read fantasy. Charlie read a nonfiction tome about minerals. I read a friend’s manuscript. Elysha read a novel.

After that was done, I read Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince to Elysha and the kids for another half hour  before sending the children to bed.

Our family spent a Friday night reading by the fire.

For one glorious evening, Elysha and I crushed it.

I will keep that evening in the forefront of my mind the next time I fail miserably as a parent, which may have already happened, but I just haven’t noticed yet.

Politics on the playground

Charlie and his friends discussed how he is a Democrat and they are Republicans, but they can still be friends because they have so much still in common and are really good friends.

So sweet.

Also a little bizarre. I wonder if any of these children could accurately identify the difference in opinions between Democrats and Republicans.

The real Republicans, I mean. Not the sycophant Trump wing of the Republican party, of course. Trump literally didn’t have a platform during his last campaign, so to pin Trump and his loyalists down on anything substantive is challenging.

Racism, of course. Authoritarianism. The expansion of Russian power. The revising of maps with Sharpies to cover up meaningless errors. The constant, shameless lying. The whitewashing of an attempted insurrection. The turning of a blind eye to hush payments to porn stars and rampant corruption. The degradation of American democracy. The greatest expansion of US debt in history. The disregard and criminal mismanagement of a worldwide pandemic.

But beyond that? It’s really hard to tell.

If Trump and his loyalists are Republicans in the truest sense of the word, then the definition of “Republican” needs to change considerably.

Still, I liked the way Charlie and his friends handled the situation.

I have friends who are Republicans, but they are the original brand of Republicans. Decent human beings who disagree with me on things like the role of government in a person’s life, the interpretation of the Second Amendment, and the size of the social safety net. We disagree on the kind of things that reasonable people can both disagree about and hopefully find some common ground.

Not the kind of hateful, racist, xenophobic, antidemocratic things that lead to a record spike in hate crimes, Nazis marching in Charlottesville, the attempted kidnapping of a state Governor, and an attempted insurrection the US Capitol.

I think we need a lot more wisdom of my son and his four grade friends in this world.

Last pillow fight

On the day of his assassination, an hour before his assassination, Martin Luther King Jr. started a pillow-fight in his motel room.

I love this so much. I’m so happy that he was able to experience such joy on his last day.

As a twenty-something, my friends and I had enormous, knock-down, drag-out pillow fights in our apartment, usually with the lights off. Pillows, couch cushions, and throw pillows were all fair game. Minor injuries, broken lamps, and an occasional bout of romance often resulted from these unexpectedly intense battles.

I started a long term relationship with a girl in the midst of one of these massive pillow fights.

I nearly lost an eye to a zipper once. I’d frequently end fights with scratches across my face and arms thanks to the zippers on sofa cushions.

The neighbors once pounded on our door, demanding that we shut up because the battle was so loud.

It took another 20 years before I would go to war again with pillows… this time with my own children.

The lights remain on and the battles are decidedly less intense, but they are still joyous.

I hope Dr. King’s last pillow fight offered him as much laughter as pillow fights have afforded me in my lifetime.

 

Pandemic plans revisited

On March 14, 2020, as my school closed and our world entered lockdown, I was determined to make the best use of my time as possible, so I made a list of things to accomplish while awaiting for the world to reopen.

I was not under any illusion at the time that lockdown would last a couple weeks. As we exited the school on March 14, I warned colleagues that we wouldn’t be returning again for the school year.

Some scoffed. Others stared in disbelief. A few already knew what I knew:

This virus wasn’t going away anytime soon.

In fact, I has been warning some colleagues as early as late January to stock up on prescription medicine, shelf stable food, and yes, toilet paper. In early March, one of these colleagues said to me, “It’s like you could see the future.”

Not too much. I pay attention to the news, and I have clients in medicine and biotech who warned me.

So my list wasn’t intended for the initial two week lockdown but a much longer period of time.

A little more than 20 months later, I thought I’d review my list and see how I did.

Accountability. I believe in it wholeheartedly.

Write a new book.

Done. While writing Someday is Today, my book on personal productivity that publishes next year, I also wrote the follow up to Storyworthy and perhaps the follow up to that follow up depending on how we decide to format the book.

Hopefully that book will follow on the heels of Someday is Today.

Watch as many Marvel movies as possible with Charlie and Elysha. We have barely watched any of these films, but armed with the proper order to watch them, we will proceed through the catalog thanks to our Disney streaming subscription.

Done. Elysha, Charlie, and I watched every Marvel film in order during the pandemic. It was one of those bright, silver linings during the most frightening of days. Elysha and I still look back on those evenings in front of the TV as some our favorites of the year.

Clean out the garage. The kids have made it a mess by using every item in the garage as a toy and never putting anything away. They are quite annoying.

Done, but sadly, it needs to be done again. Kids are the worst.

Empty the basement. I live in a town that provides its residents with free bulk pickup every week, so there will be a constant stream of old furniture and other related items on my curb every Thursday morning for quite a while.

Progress was made, but there is still much to do. Bulk pickup was suspended for a long period of time, making this one harder to achieve.

Play every board game that we own with my family at least once. Donate the ones we don’t like anymore.

We played many, many games during the pandemic, but we did not play every game, mostly because we already know which ones suck and should be donated.

Read at least two books.

Done. I read a total of 16 books before the end of 2020 alone and 4 books before June 1 of that year.

Wash and fold all the laundry in the house, including the bags of old clothing that were recovered from recent closet cleanings.

Done.

Do a 10-minute plank.

Not even close. What the hell was I thinking? I tried. I did a lot of planks. I even purchased a device to make planking more entertaining, but 10 minutes was a ridiculous idea.

Write and mail 25 letters.

Done. I wrote at least 32 letters before June 1. Possibly more.

Begin writing a musical with my partner, Kaia.

This was impossible during lockdown for important reasons, but progress is being made now.

Record two Speak Up Storytelling podcasts, bonus content for our Patreon account, plus the final episode of my Twenty-one Truths About Love podcast.

Done.

Record at least two new videos for my YouTube channel.

Done.

Explore the possible avenues for producing my storytelling instruction for an online platform.

Done. My partners and that company was born during lockdown and is now accelerating toward our first offering.

Go through the children’s toy bins at night while they are asleep and throw away or donate old toys that they no longer play with or even know exist. Don’t tell them.

Done.

Ride my bike with the kids.

Done. I fell in love with biking during lockdown. With the streets empty of cars and a deer on Main Street in Newington, there was never a better time to bike. I was on my bike every day beginning in March, and the kids joined me a great deal.

Another pandemic silver lining.

If it’s even close to warm enough, play a round of golf.

Done a lot. It turns out that in a pandemic, when being outdoors is considerably safer than indoors, golf is a perfect way to hang out with friends. Many agreed. Tee times became hard to get at times, and golf’s popularity soared. I played a lot.

Vaccines are not political

In case you mistook the choice to be vaccinated as a political issue, please take note:

The following people have been fully vaccinated against COVID-19:

Donald Trump and every other living U.S. PresidentAll 50 state governors – Republican and Democratic alikeNearly 100% of the United States CongressThe current Surgeon General and every other living Surgeon GeneralEvery member of the Joint Chiefs of StaffEvery member of the Supreme Court98% of American physicians92% of American nursesMore than 95% of the US military

Who’s not vaccinated?

99.2% of all people currently dying of Covid-19

The decision not to get vaccinated is not a political one. Democrats and Republicans throughout our government, our armed forces, and the healthcare system have already been fully vaccinated. The people who we have chosen to represent, lead, and protect our country have chosen to get the vaccine, and nearly all of them have urged Americans to follow suit.

When it comes to politics on both the federal and state level, COVID-19 vaccination represents the greatest bipartisan unity since 9/11. Nearly every American leader of consequence in both political parties has gotten vaccinated and is urging their fellow Americans to do the same.

Even the major news networks – from liberal leaning MSNBC to ultra conservative Newsmax – require employees to be vaccinated.

This is not a Democrat vs. Republican issue.

This is not a liberal vs. conservative issue.

I understand that some may think it’s political because because 92% of Democrats have been vaccinated, while only 61% of Republicans have done so, but when nearly every leader of your chosen political party has been vaccinated and is urging you to do the same, your refusal to get vaccinated has a lot less to do with your political affiliation.

Instead, the decision to get vaccinated is simply a divide between the well informed vs. the tragically misinformed.

The selfless vs. the selfish.

The patriotic vs. the proud.

The smart vs. the stupid.

Nothing more.

Resolution update: December 2021

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 November 2021.PERSONAL FITNESS

1. Don’t die.

Surgery recovery continues. Still breathing. Getting better every day.

2. Lose 20 pounds.

After bring down 15 pounds pre-surgery, I am not only down 3 pounds. Several factors conspired against me:

Abdominal surgery often results in weight gain as the body retains fluids to assist in healingLimited movement for nearly a month while I recoveredA complete lack of exercise for more than a monthThanksgiving

Losing 17 pounds in December will require the loss of a major limb, so this goal – which once seemed within reach – is looking impossible now.

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

All of these exercises have stopped before and after my hernia surgery. I can’t do a single push up, sit up, or plank until February 1, 2022.

4. Cycle for at least 5 days every week.

Zero rides in November due to recovery. I can begin biking next week on a stationary bike only.

5. Set a new personal best in golf.

Done! I shot a 44 for 9 holes at Rockledge Golf Course.

I also managed to shoot a 5-over-par 36 on a par 31 executive course. By far a personal best for that course, too.

WRITING CAREER

6. Complete my seventh novel before the end of 2021.

Progress continues on this novel, but I’ve been getting my golf memoir into shape in order to send to my agent.

It won’t be my novel, but a different book will be completed before the end of the year.

7. Complete Someday is Today before the end of 2021. 

DONE!

8. Complete Storyworthy 2 before the end of 2021.

DONE! I sent the first draft of this book (it might be two books) to my agent for her review. Given that I finished another book on storytelling before the book I have under contract, I may need to wait a bit before we sell Storyworthy 2, but it looks promising.

9. 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 been working hard on three different books but have yet to finish any of them.

But I’ll need to get my ass in gear if I hope to finish any of them this year.

10. Write 40,000 words of a memoir.

Progress! More than 20,000 words written.

I’m thrilled with the progress, but the 40,000 word goal is looking unlikely.

11. Write a new screenplay.

I have a writing partner who is still working on the first pass of The Other Mother, then I will parachute in and do a pass of my own.

12. Write a solo show.

Work continues in earnest. I haven’t met with my collaborators since March, but I have been making solid progress.

13. Write a musical.

My partner, Kaia, have outlined the first half of the show, and writing has begun.

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

Submitted one piece to the New York Times in November. Sadly, rejected.

Three pieces submitted thus far to the New York Times in 2021.

15. Submit one or more short stories to at least three publishing outlets.

No progress.

16. Select two behaviors that I am opposed to and adopt them for one week, then write about my experiences on the blog.

No progress.

I still need to write about my experiences with ASMR and my reading of 50 Shades of Grey from last year.

This has been a big, fat failure.

If you have suggestions on something I should try or adopt, please let me know. I’m struggling to find new things to try.

17. Increase my newsletter subscriber base to 6,000 (from 4,497).

I added another 52 subscribers in November for a total of 5,095.

If you’d like to sign up for my newsletter, you can do so here:

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

Two newsletters sent in November.

A total of 19 newsletters sent so far in 2021.

19. Write at least six letters to my father.

Two letters in total sent in 2021.

20. Write 100 letters in 2021.

A total of 6 letters written and sent in November. Four to students. Two to nurses who helped me during my surgery.

A total of 94 letters written and mailed so far in 2021.

21. Convert 365 Days of Elysha into a book.

I’ve passed this task onto my assistant, Kaia. Given that I have no eye for design, she will ultimately do a better job than I ever could.

22. Complete and release my limited episode podcast on “Twenty-One Truths About Love.”

DONE. Completed and published. You can listen to the five episode series in the Speak Up Storytelling feed.

STORYTELLING/SPEAKING CAREER

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

DONE!

Elysha and I produced a show for the Copper Beech Institute in November.

Seven shows so far in 2021.

We’ve also producing our final show of 2021 – virtually – on Saturday, December 4. You should attend!

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

DONE! I pitched talks to TEDx events in New Haven, Boston University, and Salem University.

I await word.

I was also approached by TEDx Cornell about possibly speaking.

I also delivered a talk at TEDx Berkshires on July 24. It went well. You can watch it here.

25. Pitch myself to Master Class at least three times in 2021. 

One pitch made in November. Two so far in 2021.

Sadly, I can’t crack the Masterclass fortress to reach their production team. They are also not accepting unsolicited pitches, so I’ll need to find another way in.

Anyone know anyone? Anyone have a thought about how I might get their attention? Anyone want to organize a Matthew Dicks rally outside of Master Class headquarters?

26. Attend at least 5 Moth events with the intention of telling a story.

DONE! I’ve performed in a total of six Moth events in 2021 – three live StorySLAMs, one virtual StorySLAM, and two virtual GrandSLAMs.

I was supposed to attend a StorySLAM in November, but recovery from my surgery has been more challenging than expected, so I bailed.

Including events where I didn’t perform, this brings my total to 11 events in 2021.

27. Win at least one Moth StorySLAM.

DONE! I won my 53rd Moth StorySLAM in September in Boston. My second Moth StorySLAM victory of 2021.

I also won the story slam at the International Festival for Arts and Ideas in New Haven, Connecticut in June.

28. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

DONE!

I won my seventh Moth GrandSLAM in May.

I9. Produce at least 25 episodes of our podcast Speak Up Storytelling.

No episodes recorded in November. My assistant, Kaia, is now editing the podcast, which will make things a little easier for us, but we still failed to record.

A total of 14 episodes so far in 2021.

30. Perform stand-up at least 3 times in 2021.

No progress, but my friend, David, has a solid 5-10 minutes of material and is ready to give standup a shot. As soon as open mics are running again, we’ll be there, ready to perform.

31. Pitch at least three stories to This American Life.

No progress.

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

One pitch made in November.

Two pitches made so far in 2021.

33. Produce at least 12 new videos for my YouTube channel in 2021. 

No videos produced in November. One video so far in 2021. But I’ve been recording content for a new business that I am launching with partners, so this had taken the place of my YouTube content for now.

34. Explore a means of producing my storytelling instruction asynchronously for an online platform.

DONE! Partners found. Contracts signed. We are on our way!

HOME

35. Print, hang, and/or display at least 25 prints, photos, or portraits in our home.

Elysha has hung three pieces of art in the living room. Much more to do, but it’s a start.

We are scheduling someone to do some touch-up painting and assist us in hanging things this month.

36. Assemble an emergency preparedness kit.

DONE! I purchased a pre-packaged survival kit and have since been added needed items, including a seed kit, survival straws, emergency blankets, N-95 masks, duct tape, and some personal items.

37. Clear the basement.

Several items removed every week in November along with trash pickup.

Incrementalism at work, though a full day commitment would be ideal. Sadly, my hernia recovery will prevent me from lifting anything heavy for eight weeks.

I have also hired my assistant to take on this job during winter break.

FAMILY/FRIENDS

38. Call brother or sister once per week. 

My sister and I spoke on the phone once in November.

No calls to my brother.

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

Done!

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

No photos taken of Elysha and me in November. Oy.

41. Plan a reunion of the Heavy Metal Playhouse.

No progress, but an online reunion feels quite doable now.

42. I will not comment, positively or negatively, about physical appearance of any person save my wife and children, in 2021 in an effort to reduce the focus on physical appearance in our culture overall.

Done.

43. Surprise Elysha at least six times in 2021.

DONE!

A total of 13 surprises so far.

In November, I sent a vase of flowers to Elysha while she was working. I honestly can’t recall the reason or occasion.

Also, Elysha’s next Pusheen Fan Club package arrived. Halloween themed. Four days after Halloween.

I also gave Elysha a Yankee Candle advent calendar. One small candle for the 24 days before Christmas. Naturally, Elysha – not knowing I was giving her an advent calendar – simultaneously gave me an advent calendar featuring Funko characters from The Office.

In January, I surprised Elysha by sending flowers to her while at work on her birthday. They were reportedly some of the best flowers she has ever received.

In February, I surprised Elysha with a Pusheen knit hat. It was actually a replacement hat after the one I purchased for her birthday did not fit.

In May, I sent Elysha some especially awesome flowers that caused her colleagues to comment repeatedly about the quality of the arrangement.

In May, I surprised Elysha with weekend plans on Martha’s Vineyard for our anniversary.

In June, I surprised Elysha with Springsteen on Broadway tickets.

Also in June, I sent a cleverly designed card to her school, timed to arrive during the last week of classes.

Also in June, I cleaned the litter boxes for her during her last week of school when things got busy. Having cleaned the litter boxes for out last two cats, she’s agreed that this chore is hers for these cats.

In July, I surprised Elysha with a pile of anniversary presents after we agreed that our trip to Martha’s Vineyard would be our gift to each other.

In August, I surprised Elysha by signing her up for the Pusheen Fan Club. Every three months she will receive a box filled with Pusheen paraphernalia. In August it was beach-themed.

In September, I sent a vase of flowers on the first day of school to Elysha and a second vase of flower for her students.

44. Play poker at least six times in 2021.

Two games so far in 2021.

I have one game 0 virtual – scheduled in December.

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

Bengi and I DJ’d a wedding in May.

One day spent in 2021 so far.

NEW PROJECTS

46. Play music in class.

Done.

In November, we spent the first ten minutes of every morning listening to Earth, Wind, and Fire and Simon & Garfunkel.

I missed two weeks recovering from surgery.

The rest of the featured artists include Sam Cooke, Stevie Wonder, Tom Petty, ELO, CCR, Aretha Franklin, Bruce Springsteen, Queen, and Dolly Parton.

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

Done.

I averaged a little more than 3 days of practice per week in November, though the numbness in my hand thanks to my surgery has impeded progress.

48. Convert our wedding video to a transferable format.

I’ve passed this assignment off to Kaia.

49. Memorize 5 new poems.

I’ve memorized “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost. Admittedly I knew more than half of it before I began, and I will continue to need to reinforce it before I am sure that it’s committed to memory for good, but it’s essentially done.

I also memorized “Dust of Snow.”

I’ve finally, at last, memorized “In Flanders Field” by John McCrae.

I’m also working on “Harlem,” “This Is Just to Say,” and “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night.”

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

No progress.

51. Understand Instagram better.

No progress.

52. Complete my Eagle Scout project.

No progress.

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

Done.