Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 150

Why I don’t worry about my big mouth?

I was asked last weekend:

“You’re very outspoken about lots of things. Like vaccinations, for example. Aren’t you worried that your friends who choose to remain unvaccinated will get angry at you for what you say and write?”

“Apparently not,” I said. “Otherwise I wouldn’t speak and write so adamantly on the subject.”

I wasn’t being coy. It’s true. I don’t worry.

I don’t worry for three reasons:

First, I care about my friends, so if they’re unvaccinated, I want them to get vaccinated and will continue to speak openly and clearly on the issue, hoping it might make a difference.

Second, I assume that my friends want me to be me. If a friend wants me to muzzle myself on certain topics lest I make them uncomfortable about their own position, they probably aren’t a very good friend.

As one of my friends once said, “Matt lives out loud.”

If you’re my friend, you know that. This means that every single time I do something stupid, embarrassing, foolish, or ridiculous, I’ll happily share that with the world, much to the delight of many people.

But it also means that if I strongly believe something, I’ll share that, too.

The alternative, it seems to me, would be a vanilla world, absent of sharp edges and unexpected twists and turns that make life interesting

No, thank you.

But here’s the most important reason:

I once had two very religious friends who would often warn me that if I didn’t find belief in God, I would burn in hell. I didn’t think burning in hell was a realistic expectation (and I still don’t), so although their warnings were both harsh and persistent, they didn’t bother me. In my heart, I knew it wasn’t true, so I simply smiled and ignored their warnings.

But they remained my friends. Their intentions were good. It was their doctrine that was bad.

I also have a friend who routinely tells me that Diet Coke will kill me. I don’t think this is true (nor do any of my doctors), so although his warnings are constant, persistent, and somewhat authoritarian, they are also easily ignored.

He’s still my friend. He’s just hell bent on offering me bad advice.

Good intentions. Bad information.

If a friend, neighbor, or colleague isn’t vaccinated and believes that it’s the right decision for them, nothing I say should have any impact on them. Just like I can put aside threats of burning in hell and warnings about Diet Coke because I don’t believe either to be true, my friends and colleagues should be able to look past my opinions on vaccines, too, and be secure in their own beliefs.

If they are bothered by what I say, perhaps the strength of their convictions isn’t quite what they thought it was or pretended it to be. In that case, maybe I can change their minds after all.

Either way, I wouldn’t ask my friend or colleague to blunt their opinions to protect my feelings. I might ask them to refrain from offering their opinion while I’m trying to sink a putt or enjoying a cheeseburger or collecting my American of the Year award, but if the forum is appropriate and the timing is right, I wouldn’t be upset about their opposing view.

Nor should my friends.

So am I afraid that my friends, or even my acquaintances, will be upset by what I say or write?

Not at all. When they disagree, they let me know. Or ignore me. Or grumble about me behind my back.

Either way, I get to be me, and they continue to be my friends.

All good.

Also, if you’re not vaccinated against COVID-19, get vaccinated, damn it. You’re already vaccinated against a dozen other deadly diseases already. You’ve already contributed to the eradication of polio, the mumps, diphtheria, meningitis, small pox, and many more.

What’s one more?

Women have lapped men. Huzzah.

At the end of the 2020-21 academic year, 59.5 percent of college students in the United States were women.

Men accounted for only 40.5 percent of those in higher education.

And it’s not that men has lost their access to higher education. Admissions officers are not keeping men out of the college classrooms. Men are simply choosing not to go.

The reasons for this disparity are varied and uncertain, and many are worried. Stories in the media have described this shift in enrollment numbers as “alarming,” “concerning.” and “disturbing.”

But here is what I know:

In 1971, the year when I was born, women couldn’t legally obtain a credit card in their own name.

In 1971, women were frequently and legally fired from their place of employment for getting pregnant.

In 1971, women couldn’t serve on a jury in all 50 states.

In 1971, women could be legally raped by their husbands since spousal rape wasn’t criminalized in all 50 states until 1993.

Also in 1971, 57 percent of students enrolled in college were men, compared to just 43 percent who were women.

These numbers have essentially reversed over the course of my lifetime.

I wonder if the words “alarming” and “concerning” and “disturbing” were used to describe female college enrollment in 1971. I can’t say for sure, but my gut tells me no. If women couldn’t own their own credit cards or refuse sex with their husbands, I hardly think female enrollment in higher education made the list of most concerning issues at the time.

So yes, it’s important to understand why young men are rejecting higher education in greater numbers than ever before. It’s crucial to know why advanced degrees no longer appeal to men as they once did. It’s critical that we figure out why young men are struggling in school like never before.

You need not look hard to see what a bunch of disaffected, angry, uneducated men are capable of doing.

But maybe we can also celebrate the fact that women are kicking ass, too. Making up for years of repression. Getting their bite of the apple at last.

Women are still earning just 82 cents for every dollar that a man makes, so until those numbers are closer to being equal, I think women should do everything in their power to rise up, reach for the brass ring, and do everything in their power to gain the upper hand.

I would prefer a world with more women in positions of leadership and power. I would love to see more women find seats at the table. I would love for women to find the equity that they deserve.

Frankly, I don’t think this college enrollment trend is necessarily a bad thing at all.

He said my story was apocryphal. This was my response.

During intermission at a recent solo show performance, I was approached by an audience member who wanted to tell me how much he enjoyed my story about the time I worked at the stripper for a bachelorette party in the break room of the McDonald’s restaurant where I was working.

It was a long time ago.

“Apocryphal, I’m sure,” the man said. “But still funny.”

In case you’re not aware, the word “apocryphal” describes a story that is often told but almost certainly untrue. Sort of like George Washington chopping down the cherry tree or almost anything Donald Trump has ever said.

I was instantly angry. I can thankfully count on one hand the number of times someone has approached me to challenge the veracity of a story, but I also remember each of those times exceedingly well because it really hurts. You stand on a stage and share a moment of your life with a group of strangers, often baring your soul in the process, only to have a middle-aged white guy approach you to express his doubts about your story.

It’s happened exactly five times in my life. It’s always been a middle aged white guy.

My responses to these horrible human beings have varied.

Once I earnestly argued the veracity of my story, going so far as to tell the man that I had a newspaper clipping at home that essentially verified most of the story and offering to send him a photo of the clipping the next day.

Another time, a friend who was deeply involved in the story was also present in the audience that night, so I offered to drag my friend over to verify my story.

Still another time, I simply walked away in disgust.

Telling someone that you don’t believe their story is a despicable and cruel thing to do to anyone, but it’s especially rotten right after someone has stepped off the stage following a performance.

When this man told me that my story was “Apocryphal, I’m sure,” I immediately decided upon a new course of action. Instead of defending the story or offering to prove its veracity (I still own the thong that I wore that night) or simply ignoring the jerk, I went on the offensive.

“What is wrong with you?” I asked. “Is your life so tragically boring and utterly forgettable that you can’t begin to imagine someone doing something as crazy as what I described in my story?”

He tried to interject, but I didn’t allow it.

“No,” I said. “I’m fine. I’m a professional, so people like you mean nothing to me. But there are performers in shows like this telling stories and performing for the first time. Or the fifth time. Or the tenth time. Say something as cruel to them like you just said to me, and they may never take the stage again. So even if you doubt the truth of a story, keep your mouth shut. You never know. I once stripped in the break room of a McDonald’s in Milford, Massachusetts for a bachelorette party, and nothing you say or think will ever change that.”

I can’t promise that my words came out exactly that way, but it’s pretty close, I think. And it’s what I will say if it ever happens again.

As I was speaking, two women had approached to congratulate me on the first half of the show (and suggest I pitch something to Netflix), so they caught the second half of my tirade. I suspect this was why the man stormed off when I finished.

It’s easy to be rotten to someone when you’re one-on-one. It’s a lot harder with an audience.

For the record, the man returned to his seat for the second half of the show. It took me a couple minutes to find him, but when I did, I was sure to make a lot of eye contact with him.

There have been a handful of times (or maybe a couple of handfuls of times) when I’ve heard someone tell a story and seriously doubted its veracity, mostly because of logical inconsistencies in the story or the sheer improbability of events. But I would never think to approach that storyteller after the fact to challenge their story, because you just never know.

The world is a strange and wondrous place. Bizarre and improbable coincidences happen all the time. Remarkable and unbelievable confluences of events occur almost every day. The impossible often becomes possible.

Strange and bizarre and crazy things have happened to me many times, often as a result of my own stupidity or foolishness or bad luck, but sometimes because people and events collided in just the right way.

I suspect that less than one percent of the thousands of stories I’ve listened to over the years have been untrue, but even those stories that aren’t true probably contain bits of truth, distorted by exaggeration, embellishment, or fictional elements.

But if I’m right and less than one percent aren’t true, that isn’t a bad ratio of truth to fiction.

And if a storyteller needs to invent a story from whole cloth rather than simply sharing a truth from their life?

I feel sorry for them. I’m saddened by the thought that they don’t see their actual life worth sharing with others. These storytellers don’t deserve my ire or outrage. Instead, I pity them for not seeing all of the stories in their lives that audiences would undoubtedly find entertaining, interesting, and compelling.

But those people who tell storytellers that their stories aren’t true? Doubt the veracity of a story? Declare it apocryphal?

Ire and outrage henceforth. It’s exactly what they deserve.

If you were curious about my stripping story, I told it at a Moth GrandSLAM years ago (at Elysha’s urging, to her credit). Here is the recording:

 

Zoo homework

Some people go to their favorite zoo – Southwick Zoo in Mendon, Massachusetts – to look at the animals, read the occasional plaque, and maybe eat a hot dog.

Others spend the hour prior to leaving for the zoo by taking notes, creating checklists, and familiarizing themselves with the layout of the zoo so they can optimize the visit, avoid missing a single animal,  and take notes on everything they see.

Zoo homework, people. Some people assign themselves zoo homework.

Vaccines are super popular

While unvaccinated Americans continue to create enormous problems in our country in terms of increasing infection rates, mounting deaths due to COVID-19, and worst of all, the overwhelming of hospital resources and staff, here is a fact we should keep in mind: The United States has now vaccinated 70 percent of adults with at least one shot against COVID-19, making vaccination one of the most popular and shared experiences across the entire country. COVID-19 vaccination has now passed the 69 percent of Americans who use Facebook, the 65 percent who drink alcohol, the 63 percent who like any sport team, the 62 percent who voted in 2020, and the 56 percent who have cable or satellite television. Being vaccinated against COVID-19 is now more popular than drinking alcohol and watching football in America.   It is quite literally one of the most popular things to do in our country.  This is sometimes easy to forget this given the volume, agitation, and violence of those opposed to vaccination. It’s easy to forget how incredibly popular vaccination is given the burden that the unvaccinated are putting on our healthcare system and their incessant mewling.  They seem to be everywhere. Billboards. Churches. State houses. Protesting on street corners. Constantly appearing on the news.  Sometimes for the worst of reasons.  In the month of August alone, FIVE conservative radio hosts who aggressively preached against vaccination and the use of masks died from COVID-19.  Self-described “Mr. Anti-Vax” Marc Bernier succumbed to the virus last week. Earlier in August, the death included: Phil Valentine, a popular radio host in Tennessee who advised listeners not in “high-risk” categories to not get the vaccine. Jimmy DeYoung, a nationally syndicated Christian preacher also based in Tennessee who argued that the vaccine was a widespread attempt by the government to sterilize its citizens. Dick Farrel, who had worked for stations in Miami and Palm Beach, as well as for the conservative Newsmax TV channel, who declared the pandemic a “scam-demic” and asserted that Anthony Fauci invented the delta variant to keep Americans from living their lives. Tod Tucker, a pro-Trump radio programmer and occasional host in Daytona who referred to people who took the vaccine as “idiot lab rats.” Four of these stupid men retracted their opposition to vaccines and masks in their dying days. Too late for them, of course, but perhaps it will change the minds of their listeners. It’s easy to become despondent over the state of the pandemic given stories like this. It’s easy to give up hope given the rise of the delta variant, the soaring infection rates in certain parts of our country, and all the noise that the anti-vaxxers are making. But remember this: If you’re vaccinated, you are amongst the vast majority of Americans who have also done so. Most of us have done our jobs. We got vaccinated for the benefit of ourselves, the people around us, and our country.  We tend to throw fewer fits in airports, protest less often at state capitals, drive around with fewer American flags affixed to the back of our pickup trucks, punch fewer flight attendants, and pay for fewer billboards promoting our ridiculous causes. We are generally an enormous but quieter group of people who go about our business doing the right thing for those around us without screaming about it.  We are in the vast majority of reasonable, rational Americans who believe on science, public health, and doing the right thing.  Vaccination is exceedingly popular in America. One of the most popular things in America today. Not yet popular enough to bring this pandemic to an end, but not nearly as unpopular as the loud, angry, belligerent, sometimes violent anti-vaxxers might have you believe.

Billionaires really need me

Mark Zuckerberg posts a video of himself on Instagram on the Fourth of July riding an electric surfboard and carrying an American flag while John Denver’s “Take Me Home, Country Roads” plays in the background. He is widely mocked. He looks ridiculous. Jeff Bezos returns to Earth after his brief trip in space aboard his Blue Origin rocket and promptly places an enormous cowboy hat on his head for the press conference. He is widely mocked. Bezos also thanks Amazon employees and customers for making the trip possible, apparently tone-deaf to the reality that Amazon doesn’t pay its workers well, fights their every attempt to unionize, and pays no federal taxes. He is widely mocked again. Elon Musk tweets, “Am considering taking Tesla private at $420. Funding secured.” as a 420 marijuana joke.  The stock plummets. The post leads to a lawsuit from the SEC which resulted in a settlement that required Musk to pay a $20 million fine. He was also made to step down as the chairman of Tesla’s board of directors for three years. This kind of thing happens all the time. Billionaires say and do stupid things. And let’s be clear: I am not opposed to Zuckerberg’s Fourth of July video or Bezos’s cowboy hat on face value. If it makes them happy, I’m fine with both decisions. I don’t comment or criticize people based upon physical appearance and find the practice fairly loathsome.  But since Zuckerberg posted his video on Instagram and Bezos wore his hat to a press conference, I don’t think their intention was to be widely mocked. But I could’ve told both of them beforehand that wide scale mockery would take place. I could’ve told them how the public would react. I could’ve told them to stop.  But for some reason, people with a lot of money are often blind to these realities. They may have the ability to make a fortune, but when it comes to common sense, public relations, and overall likability, many are lacking. Enter Matthew Dicks. The Billionaire Whisperer. It’s clear to me that whoever is working for these billionaires is afraid to speak the truth. Too nervous to tell Bezos to remove the damn hat and shut the hell up or Zuckerberg to take down that video or Musk to rethink his tweet.  They’ve apparently surrounded themselves with frightened, agreeable sycophants. Either that or foolish people with terrible foresight and questionable judgment.  These billionaires need someone like me. Someone thoroughly unimpressed by wealth. Someone completely indifferent to hundred room mansions and and enormous yachts. Someone fully aware of how so many of them were born on third base still thinking they had hit a triple. Someone completely and totally willing to tell them like it is. This is no joke. I’m ready to go.  Matthew Dicks: The Unapologetic Voice of Reason. If you know a billionaire, please put us in touch. Actually. I’m willing to work with multimillionaires, too. I’m not picky.

Not all parental disputes are the same

In the event that your relationship with your parents is occasionally or persistently contentious, perspective can be especially helpful.

As bad as your relationship might be, this is probably worse:

A judge has ordered a couple to pay their son $30,441.54 in restitution after he sued his parents for throwing away his apparently astoundingly large collection of pornography.

They must also pay $14,519.82 in attorney’s fees.

David Werking moved into his parent’s home following his divorce. During that time, his parents stumbled upon his pornography collection and disposed of it without their son’s permission.

In response, their son sued them for damages.

By filing the lawsuit, not only did Werking create a likely rift between himself and his parents, but he also made the entire situation public.

$30,441.54 is a lot of money, but is it worth irreparably damaging your relationship with your parents? Parents who, I’ll point out, were willing to take you in following your divorce?

Was it also worth announcing to the world that you once owned a pornography collection worth more than a brand new, fully loaded Ford Mustang?

I’m not so sure.

So the next time you find yourself bickering with your parents over something trivial or something less than trivial, take a moment and think about David Werking and his parents, and perhaps remind yourself how lucky you are.

Not almost famous

I performed a couple weeks ago at the Phoenicia Playhouse in Phoenicia, New York. As we wandered the town of Phoenicia and the adjacent town of Woodstock, NY, we continually encountered flyers advertising my performance.

Affixed to telephone poles. Posted in the bookstore and restaurants. Even an actual billboard (my first) (and probably my last) featuring my image on the turnoff into Phoenicia.

Charlie became especially enamored with the signage

“You’re famous, Dad,” Charlie said again and again.

I tried to dispel him of this notion again and again.

He really wants to think of his father as famous.

This week, I started teaching a new batch of fifth graders. On the first day of school, one of my students asked, “Are you famous?”

I assured him that I was not.

He frowned. “But my parents told me that you’re famous,” he said.

A student sitting beside him leaned over and said, “Tell your parents to call my parents. They’ll tell you how not famous he is.”

I won’t tell Charlie about this. It’ll disappoint him.

It even disappointed me a little.

The hits just keep on coming…

I had an especially excellent class last year when it came to pranks, which is to say…

I did an especially good job teaching them the finer art of pranking.

Not only did they pull off some brilliant trickery over the course of the year, but their ability to be patient was extraordinary.

Case in point:

It’s day two of my new school year. The remnants of Hurricane Ida have passed and the sun has finally returned to the sky. At the end of the school day, I reach for my Retroviewer, a personalized Viewmaster Viewer that Elysha gave me for Christmas a few years ago, complete with reels of images of our family.

A perfect gift for me:

The combination of nostalgia, memory, and a toy.

Whenever I need a pick-me-up at work, I grab my Retroviewer, peer into the lenses, and disappear for a moment into photographs of our family, our wedding, and memorable vacations.

I lifted the Retroviewer to my eyes, but as I looked inside, the images of our wedding appeared blurry.

I removed the photo wheel and replaced it, assuming it was misaligned.

No better.

I removed it again. Dusted it off. Replaced it.

Still nothing. I could see the images, but each one of them was blurry. I worried that my Retroviewer was somehow broken.

Then I examined the Retroviewer itself. I couldn’t believe what I saw.

Covering the two eye holes were two perfect circles of Scotch tape matching the size of the lenses exactly. The tape was nearly invisible to the naked eye but absolutely capable of blurring the images inside.

Taped to the bottom of the Retroviewer was a tiny note that read:

“Troubling seeing?”

My fifth grade students from last year left my classroom back in June, secure in the knowledge that their prank would pay off the following school year, long after they were gone.

They would never see the result of their efforts, but they knew it would eventually happen.

That is what I call “playing the long game.” Waiting days, weeks, months, and even years for a prank to finally pay off. An exceptionally difficult feat for adults, but almost impossible for children.

Except for last year’s class.

So damn impressive.

I hope they are bringing the same kind of frustrated joy to their middle school teachers this year.

Resolution update: August 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 August 2021.PERSONAL FITNESS

1. Don’t die.

Definitely alive. Hernia surgery scheduled for October, so I’ll be hurting foe a while, but definitely not dead.

2. Lose 20 pounds.

Lost 0 pounds in August.

Stupid ice cream.

Still down 10 pounds in 2021.

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

All of these exercises needed to stop until I have my hernia surgery (and for 2-3 months after my surgery). It’s killing me.

Also, when I finally return to these exercises, they will be twice as difficult.

4. Cycle for at least 5 days every week.

Done! 28 days spent cycling in August. A total of 11 rides IRL and 17 rides on the NordicTrack.

5. Set a new personal best in golf.

I tied by best round ever back in June and again in August with a 9-over-par 45 for 9 holes.

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

Still looking to set a new personal best on a regulation course, but I am definitely playing better overall. Next year’s goal should not be based upon a single round of golf but a handicap.

WRITING CAREER

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

Progress continues on this novel, but there is a twist:

I wrote a memoir years ago about a summer spent playing golf, and this may be the next book we try to launch into the world, so I am getting my memoir into shape first.

Nevertheless, writing continues.

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

Progress continues. Due last month!

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 begun writing my first and second picture books of 2021. One is nearly finished. The other is outlined. Excited about both. I plan to continue the work once the school year begins.

10. Write 40,000 words of a memoir.

Progress! More than 10,000 words written!

11. Write a new screenplay.

Progress! I have a writing partner who is 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 it’s simply because I’m making solid progress and want to wait until I stall out to meet with them.

I’m also consumed in finishing Someday is Today. 

I did, however, review the show with a producer who offered a couple good notes and loves the idea.

13. Write a musical.

My partner, Kaia, and I have shifted away from our original idea to a new one, and work has begun with greater earnest. The original idea is still good, but this one is just as good or better. It’s also the topic of my new memoir, so there is some serious synergy between the two projects.

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

Two pieces submitted and rejected by the New York Times. Two in total 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 Gray from last year.

If you have suggestions on something I should try or adopt, please let me know.

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

I added another 72 subscribers in June for a total of 4,936.

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). 

One newsletter sent in August.

A total of 15 newsletters sent so far in 2021.

Still on pace to hit my goal.

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 8 letters written and sent in August. Former students, friends, recent fellow performers.

A total of 66 so far in 2021. Almost on pace for 100.

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.

We produced a fantastic show at the Hill-stead Museum in Farmington, CT in August. Our first live show in more than a year, outdoors.

Five shows so far in 2021.

We’ve also scheduled live shows (depending on the pandemic) with the Wadsworth Atheneum, the Copper Beech Institute, Voices of Hope, and the Connecticut Historical Society for the fall.

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 also delivered a talk at TEDx Berkshires on July 24. It went well.

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

One pitch made so far in 2021.

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 attended a live StorySLAM in August, My second this year.

This brought my total to 10 events in 2021.

I’ll be attending another Moth StorySLAM in Boston in September.

27. Win at least one Moth StorySLAM.

DONE! I won my 51st Moth StorySLAM in February. Certainly not the same as a live, onstage StorySLAM, but it’s always an honor to tell a story to an audience of any kind.

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 August. My assistant, Kaia, is now editing the podcast, which will make things a little easier for us, but we still failed to record.

Getting a kindergarten classroom ready, on top of sucking the marrow from summer, make it impossible.

A total of 14 episodes so far in 2021. Still ahead of schedule, but barely.

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 so far in 2021.

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

No videos produced in June. One video so far in 2021. But I will be recording content for a new business that I am launching with a partner, so this may need to wait.

Also, my production assistant will be digitizing content on DVD’s that can be uploaded soon.

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.

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

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.

In July, I added three wilderness survival books to the kits.

37. Clear the basement.

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

Incrementalism at work.

FAMILY/FRIENDS

38. Call brother or sister once per week. 

My sister visited my home in August. First time ever.

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.

Done! Second month when this goal was accomplished!

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. Not even tempted to make a comment.

43. Surprise Elysha at least six times in 2021.

DONE!

Nine surprises so far.

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 singing 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.

44. Play poker at least six times in 2021.

Two games so far in 2021.

Two scheduled but cancelled games because of poor attendance.

A virtual game scheduled for September.

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. But I’m trying.

NEW PROJECTS

46. Play music in class.

Done.

I wish I had played more, but we listened to several musicians during the 2020-2021 school year.

I will continue this in the fall with my new batch of students.

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 August.

48. Convert our wedding video to a transferable format.

I’m passing this assignment off to Kaia. I’ve also been offered some suggestions from a friend.  Between the two…

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’m still working on “In Flanders Field” by John McCrae. For the sixth month. I nearly have it.

I know I’ve said that before.

This goal is disappointing me.

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. One day late because I wanted to post on the first day of school.