Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 183

Harvard's new legacy

Harvard University is facing an affirmative action lawsuit based upon their admission processes, and things are not looking goof.

A study, published earlier this month in the National Bureau of Economic Research, found that 43 percent of white students admitted to Harvard were recruited athletes, legacy students, children of faculty and staff, or on the dean’s interest list — applicants whose parents or relatives have donated to Harvard.

Only 16 percent of black, Latino and Asian American students come from these categories.

Even more damning, the study also found that roughly 75 percent of the white students admitted from those four categories, labeled 'ALDCs' in the study, “would have been rejected if they had been treated as white non-ALDCs.”

Three quarters of the students at Harvard who were admitted because they play a sport well or because their parents attended Harvard, donated to Harvard, or work at Harvard don’t really belong at Harvard.

This is appalling.

The next time you meet a Harvard graduate - and especially a white Harvard graduate - you can probably discount their achievement by at least 33% (75% of 43%).

Let’s be clear: I happen to know several Harvard graduates who were more than deserving of attending that university, so I don’t mean to disparage the student body as a whole. But I have also spent more than two decades in education, watching affluent parents who understand how certain systems work and where the opportunities for influence lie bestow advantages upon their children that other equally capable, oftentimes harder working children do not possess.

And it enrages me.

We like to claim that America is a meritocracy, and on its best days, perhaps that’s true. After all, I managed to claw my way from homeless, poverty, and a possible prison sentence to where I am today without any assistance from my family or any financial backing. I worked incredibly hard for a long time, forgoing many other things, in order to achieve my goals.

But I am also a white, straight, healthy, relatively intelligent American man who does not battle substance abuse issues. Even when I was homeless and hungry, I was still one of the most advantaged people on the planet.

You should probably discount my achievements by at least 33%, too. Maybe a lot more.

But at least I wasn’t using Mommy and Daddy’s checkbook or their good name to gain me entrance into one of the most prestigious institutions in the land.

Stop the madness. Please.

I’ve spoken many times about how the best way to make decisions about how to spend your time is to try to envision what the 100 year-old version of yourself would say.

How would 100 year-old Matt want me to spend this day? This hour? This minute?

I spoke on this topic at a TEDx conference if you’re interested in hearing the complete story:

The problem is that human beings make choices based upon short term pleasure rather than the long term goals we have for ourselves. This can be as simple as the moment we choose to look at our phones instead of watching or playing with our children.

The 100 year-old version of any parent will always regret that you didn’t spend more time with your children, so if you try to keep that 100 year-old version of yourself in your mind’s eye at all times, you’re far more likely to put your phone in your pocket and push your kid on the swings instead or pay attention when she shouts, “Watch this!” for the one millionth time.

The same thing happens when we choose to eat the second cookie even though we’re trying to lose weight. Or when we dream of learning to play the guitar but spend the evening watching television instead of practicing. Or when we fail to pursue a moonshot business idea because we’re afraid to take the first step.

The 100 year-old version of yourself would tell you to avoid the cookie, practice the guitar, and stop being so afraid.

That is how I try to live my life.

And yes, I know it’s not possible to always live this way. I realize that short term pleasure will sometimes defeat long term planning. I also know that there are times in our lives when we need to tell the 100 year-old version of ourselves to shut up because “I want the funnel cake, damn it!”

I also know that I once had a gun pressed against the side of my head and the trigger pulled, so I have an acute understanding of the regret that a person feels when he knows with absolute certainty that his life is about to end. It’s a perspective few people share, and while I wouldn’t wish that experience and all that followed on anyone, I also know that it changed the way I live my life forever.

I lived my life since that day trying to avoid the regret of a life unfulfilled. I adhere to this philosophy with admitted zealotry, but if you can listen to the 100 year-old version of yourself just a little bit, I think your life will be better.

To that end, I present this horrifying statistic of destruction and chaos:

270 million people play Candy Crush every day.
9.2 million of those people spend more than three hours every day playing Candy Crush.

I don’t play video games today, but there was a time in my teens and twenties when I played a lot of video games, and I’m not opposed to spending your time this way as long as you’re playing with friends. Challenging yourself intellectually. Fostering relationships. Making memories.

I have incredibly precious memories of time spent in arcades with friends in my teens and networking pre-Internet desktop computers in my twenties so five guys could play the same game in the same room for an entire weekend.

Those were great days, filled with laughter and camaraderie and competition. I smile when I look back on those days.

Even today, Charlie and I will go to Dave & Busters a few times every year - usually on a rainy day - and have enormous fun playing games together.

I smile when I think of those memories, too.

I’ve never played Candy Crush. I’ve never played a single game on my phone ever, mostly because I know how addictive they are purposefully designed to be. Also because the 100 year-old version of myself tells me that every moment spent playing a mindless video game by myself on my phone is a moment of future regret.

270 million people play Candy Crush every day.

9.2 million people spend more than three hours playing Candy Crush every day.

Can you imagine what these people could be accomplishing with that time if they would just put down their phones and recover those lost hours? Imagine how their lives and maybe even humanity would be better off if they spent that time more productively.

Reading. Writing. Painting. Learning to play a musical instrument or speak a second language. Walking. Volunteering. Sculpting. Gardening. Playing ping pong. Walking the dog. Petting the cat. Registering voters. Talking to a parent on the telephone. Meditating. Swimming.

There are a lot of 100 year-old versions of people - at least 9.2 million of them - screaming at the top of their lungs for these phone zombies to stop wasting their lives on something they will someday most assuredly regret.

Die, suits. Die.

I’m going to buy a new suit today,.

It’s a little crazy, since I don’t wear suits, Or ties. Or anything formal at all.

I’ve been know to throw a sports coat over a tee shirt if necessary, but I completely abandoned neckties about 15 years ago (because they are stupid) and stopped wearing suits unless I’m working as the DJ at a wedding or officiating a ceremony wedding and am asked to wear one.

On Saturday I’ll be officiating the wedding ceremony of one of my very first students, so I’ve decided to up my game a bit. The suits that I own now are all too big for me, so if I must wear one, I’ll at least get one that fits.

That said, the suit industry is cratering. Suits are less expensive today - about 25% cheaper than back in 2000 - and overall sales of suits have steeply declined.

In 1950, the average American man purchased 0.5 suits per year.

In 2018, that figure was down to .07 suits per man.

The suit is dying a slow death, and thank goodness. Like the necktie, which is little more than a decorative noose, the suit It serves no earthly purpose, and in most cases, simply represents a barrier between those can afford a good suit and those who cannot.

The sooner these unnecessary ornamentations of the fashion industry die, the better.

Good riddance, you wasteful, pointless, stupid convention.

That said, I’ll buy my suit today and happily wear it on Saturday because I’m thrilled and honored and overjoyed to be officiating the wedding of a person who I first taught to read and write way back in second grade.

A young woman who later became the very first babysitter of our children.

A person who we have thought of as a member of our family for a very long time.

Though I admittedly become obstreperous and grumpy when I’m forced to wear something because of silly social conventions, this time it’s different.

I’m not wearing a suit because anyone is expecting or demanding that I do. I wearing a suit because I’m excited to do so for Allison, whose wedding day deserves to be perfect.

Speak Up Storytelling #67: Matthew Dicks

On episode #67 of the Speak Up Storytelling podcast, Matthew Dicks talks storytelling.

A solo show in which I critique one of my own stories. 

In our follow-up segment, I read an amazing email from a fan in Oxford, England and remind you about some upcoming events. 

STORYTELLING SHOWS 2019-2020

November 2: Great Hartford Story Slam, Hartford Flavor Company
November 9: Sara Kaplan: Champion of the World at Emmanuel Synagogue, West Hartford, CT
November 23: Twenty-one Truths About Love book release, CT Historical Society, Hartford, CT
December 14: “Crafty” at CT Historical Society, Hartford, CT
January 11: “Still Life: Stories of Stopping and Slowing Down” at the Wadsworth Atheneum
April 4: Speak Up at the Unitarian Universalist Society, Manchester, CT

STORYTELLING WORKSHOPS 2019

October 25-27: Storytelling workshop (beginners), Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health
November 9: Storytelling workshop (Beginner), CT Historical Society
November 16: Storytelling workshop (Advanced), CT Historical Society
December 6-8: Storytelling workshop (advanced), Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health
January 25: Storytelling workshop (Beginner), CT Historical Society
February 22: Storytelling workshop (Advanced), CT Historical Society

Next we listen to a story by me, Matthew Dicks.

Unlike previous solo shows, I do things a little differently this week. Instead of listening to the story and then offering some thoughts, I play the story in full and then play it again, stopping at various points to provide insight. 

I'm trying something new. I hope you like it!

LINKS

Purchase Storyworthy: Engage, Teach, Persuade, and Change Your Life Through the Power of Storytelling

Purchase Twenty-one Truths About Love 

Homework for Life: https://bit.ly/2f9ZPne

Matthew Dicks's website: http://www.matthewdicks.com

Matthew Dicks's YouTube channel:
https://www.youtube.com/matthewjohndicks 

Matthew Dicks's blog:
http://www.matthewdicks.com/matthewdicksblog

Subscribe to Matthew Dicks's weekly newsletter: 
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Flaubert and the art of the day job

I just learned about Flaubert’s dictum:

“Be regular and orderly in your life like a bourgeois, so that you may be violent and original in your work.”

I love this.

It is excellent advice for any writer, artist, actor, musician, or similarly creative person who hopes to launch a successful, profitable, sustaining career in their field upon stepping out into the world.

When I finally made it to college, I knew that I wanted to one day be an author. But I also knew that becoming an author would be easier said than done, so I would need a means of earning a living while I tried to start my writing career.

Thankfully, I had also always wanted to teach.

“Write for a living and teach for pleasure” was my dream.

So while in college, I earned an English degree with a concentration on creative writing while simultaneously earning my teaching degree, too. Not an easy task. Two degree programs is hard enough, but I was also managing a restaurant full time and working in the campus writing center part time as well. It also required exploiting a loophole that allowed me to take two full course loads at two different schools at the same time (including an all-women’s college), but it was important that I did both.

I knew that rent and food would not pay for themselves.

In Flaubert’s words, I knew that I would need to be regular and orderly in my life so I could be original in my work.

I started teaching at the age of 28. I sold my first novel when I was 36, and it published when I was 38. I’ve since published a total of four novels and a book of nonfiction, and I have three more books coming out in the next two years (including one next month). If I wanted to, I could retire from teaching today and earn a good living writing, speaking, and consulting.

But it took two decades after graduating from college to reach this point. It’s taken more than a decade since I sold my first novel to achieve this reality.

I had to be regular and orderly in my life for a long time before I could finally earn a living through my art.

The problem is that I love the kids. I love working with my students. Teaching them is an art in itself, and it’s not one that I’m willing to give up. At least not yet.

But I meet high school and college students all the time who are unwilling to do the regular and orderly work so they can be original in their own work. They want to be a writer or an actor or a sculpture and say things like, “I need to invest every ounce of energy into my art” or “I can’t try halfway” or “I need to do this when I’m young and not burdened by responsibility.”

This is all nonsense, of course. Einstein wrote his General Theory of Relativity while working as a patent clerk. John Grisham wrote his first two novels on legal pads while working as a lawyer. Harper Lee worked as a ticket agent for Eastern Airlines while writing “To Kill a Mockingbird.” Phillip Glass worked as a plumber and a cab driver while writing his music. Henri Rousseau was a tax collector, and even after his art began to sell, he would sometimes play the violin on the streets to make ends meet.

All of these people and many, many more - most artists of every kind - adhered to Flaubert’s dictum:

“Be regular and orderly in your life like a bourgeois, so that you may be violent and original in your work.”

You have to eat if you want to create.

It’s good advice for artists, but there is another side to this coin. I think it’s also good advice for those who don’t see themselves as artists. Folks who may be creative in some way but can’t imagine ever making something or doing something that people would someday love and admire. Lots of people - most people, I think - start to see themselves in a singular light rather than finding the courage or strength or willingness to step out of that light and into something else.

These are the people who loved to write or paint in high school or college but gave it up when they began their career. They are the actors who performed in college plays or community theater but surrendered that love to the demands of the everyday world. They are the people who have always wanted to learn the piano or have thought about sculpting when they retire or have an idea for a business that seems impossible to get off the ground.

These folks are already adhering to the first half of Flaubert’s dictum. They are already regular and orderly in their lives. Maybe they just don’t know that they can be original and violent in their work, too. Maybe they assumed that all artists devote their lives to their art. Perhaps they envisioned artists as folks toiling away in studios and offices and theaters for every waking hour of their life.

Maybe they didn’t know that quite often artists are also attorneys and patent clerks and plumbers and teachers.

People just like them, being regularly and orderly in our lives so we can be creative and violent in our art.

Maybe they could be one, too. That is what I hope Flaubert’s dictum inspires people to do:

To see themselves as potential artists, not limited by their current career or station in life, just waiting for them to step out of their singular light and into something new.

Look what I found

It’s not often that you discover a brand new food that is both surprising and spectacular and doesn’t include an ingredient that I’ve never heard of before.

But behold, the bacon lollipop, available at Turning Point in Manalapan, New Jersey.

Stupid words for simple things

Here’s an expression that I’ve been hearing a lot lately:

“Let’s talk about this offline.”

These words are used when a person directing a meeting wants to engage in conversation with a meeting attendee at a later time. Typically this occurs when the matter involves a small number of meeting attendees and need not waste the time of the group.

Sparing the group of wasted time is a lovely idea. But offline?

Why not, “Let’s talk about this later, since it doesn’t involve everyone?”

Or, “Let’s talk after the meeting. Okay?”

Or even, “Later, gator.”

But offline? Are we to believe that we are “online” when in the meeting? Because I have never had that thought in my life.

I hate when stupid jargon is applied to something that has been communicated effectively for decades with simple English.

I hate it a lot.

Which coincidence would be more coincidental?

Regina Spektor’s song "On The Radio" - a personal favorite - has a chorus that goes:

On the radio
You'll hear ‘November Rain’
That solo's awful long
But it's a good refrain

You listen to it twice
'Cause the DJ is asleep
On the radio (Oh-oh-oh)
On the radio

So here’s my question:

Which would be more surprising based upon these lyric?:

To hear ‘November Rain’ played twice on the radio (because the DJ presumably fell asleep) or to hear ‘On the Radio’ played twice?

Elysha says ‘November Rain.’

I say ‘On the Radio.’

Honestly, I was just happy that she indulged me by answering my stupid question.

Robots are coming for us

The scariest thing about this real life robot is that it’s even more lifelike and mobile than the robots that wiped out humankind in the Terminator movies.

What the hell are these engineers thinking?

Resolution update: September 2019

Each month I review the progress of my yearly goals and report on that progress as a means of holding myself accountable.

Here are the results for September.

__________________________________

PERSONAL HEALTH

1. Don’t die.

Super alive.

2. Lose 20 pounds.

I lost 2 pounds in September.

I’ve lost 8 pounds in total.

3. Eat at least three servings of fruits and/or vegetables per day, six days a week.

Done! Admittedly it was still mostly fruit (lots of apples) and French fries, but I did it!

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

Done. Planks are getting surprisingly easy except for the elbow and shoulder pain. I’ve started physical therapy, and I may need to stop push-ups for a while.

5. Do burpees three days a week.

I did 3-4 burpees per day, 3 times each week in September. My shoulder really, really hurts, and now my elbow hurts, too. I blamed it on the burpees, but apparently it’s my golf lessons.

I started physical therapy yesterday. My therapist told me to stop the burpees.

I love her so much.

WRITING CAREER

6. Complete my seventh novel before the end of 2019.

Writing has finally commenced.I won’t finish before the end of the year, but I’ll pretend that I might.

7. Write/complete at least five new picture books, including one with a female, non-white protagonist. 

I’m currently working on three different children’s books. I like one very much.

8. Write a memoir.

Work continues.

9. Write a new screenplay.

No progress, but I have a good idea. Maybe two, now.

10. Write a musical.

No progress.

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

I submitted a piece to the NY Times Modern Love column in April. I received word last month that it was not accepted.

One down. Four to go.

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

No progress.

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

I spent July strategically smiling in hopes that the biofeedback that a smile sends to the brain would alter my mood positively. I’ll be writing about the results this month.

I’m in need of two more behaviors to adopt.

Suggestions?

14. Increase my storytelling newsletter subscriber base to 3,000.

39 new subscribers in September for a total of 884 new subscribers in 2019. My list now stands at 2,994 subscribers. Just 6 subscribers away from the goal!

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

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15. Write at least six letters to my father.

No letters written in September. Two written so far this year.

16. Write 100 letters in 2019.

No letters written in September. A few surprise projects have taken away much of my time.

24 letters overall. Still have a lot of writing to do before the end of the year.

17. Convert Greetings Little One into a book.

A kind, generous, and amazing human being has begun work on this project. Entering the final stages, too.

I am so excited.

STORYTELLING

18. Produce a total of 10 Speak Up storytelling events.

DONE! One show produced in September. A total of 11 shows produced so far in 2019.

19. Begin selling Speak Up merchandise at our events and/or online.

Done! We began selling tee shirts and totes at our live podcast recording, and we’ll be selling again at our upcoming shows.

Next step is to make it available online. Suggestions?

20. Pitch myself to at least 5 upcoming TEDx events with the hopes of being accepted by one.

Done! I’ve pitched myself to five TEDx conferences and was nominated for a sixth.

All have now passed on my pitches. No one wants me.

I’ll just keep pitching.

21. Attend at least 15 Moth events with the intention of telling a story.

DONE! Elysha and I attended one Moth Mainstage in New Haven in September.

This brings my total to 18 events so far.

22. Win at least three Moth StorySLAMs.

DONE! So far in 2019, I’ve won two slams in NYC, one slam in Seattle, and three slams in Boston.

43 victories in all.

23. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

I finished in second place by a tenth of a point in a Moth GrandSLAM in Boston in January.

I finished in fourth place in a Moth GrandSLAM in Boston in March, but I think I might’ve told my best story ever.

I competed but did not win the NYC Moth GrandSLAM in June. Silent scoring (I’m not a fan) prevents me from knowing how I placed.

I may be competing in one more Moth GrandSLAM in NYC this year depending on the timing of the GrandSLAM and the number of storytellers in the queue ahead of me.

24. Produce at least 40 episodes of our new podcast Speak Up Storytelling. 

Three new episodes released in September (along with a rerun).

A total of 32 episodes so far in 2019.

Listen to our latest here or subscribe wherever you get your podcasts.

25. Perform stand up at least four times in 2019. 

No stand up performed in September.

Three down. Three to go.

26. Develop and teach a Storytelling Master Class, in which participants have an opportunity to tell at least two stories over the course of the day  or tell a story and then retell it based on feedback.

Done in June! It went surprisingly well, and I’ve been receiving requests to do another.

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

No progress.

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

I wrote to Marc early in January, asking for him to consider me as a guest.

I wrote again in August.

No response yet.

I’ve also officially requested that my publicist assist me in this endeavor.

If you know Marc Maron, or know someone who knows Marc or know someone who knows Marc’s producer or booker, please let me know. I know that Marc and I would have an amazing conversation, and it’s currently my biggest dream to get on his show.

NEW PROJECTS

29. Host a fundraiser for RIP Medical Debt, which would allow us to relieve the medical debt of struggling Americans for pennies on the dollar.

No progress.

30. Complete my Eagle Scout project.

No progress.

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

We received our estimate from the painters. Depending on other expenses, we will likely be painting several rooms this fall, at which point things can be hung on the walls.

32. Renovate our first floor bathroom.

Work will commence THIS MONTH. And not a moment too soon. The tile floor is falling apart.

33. Organize our second floor bathroom.

Nearly complete. I did it. Huzzah.

MISCELLANEOUS

34. Cook at least 12 good meals (averaging one per month) in 2019.

I made one meal for the family in September.

Six down. Six to go.

35. Plan a reunion of the Heavy Metal Playhouse.

I have a tentative date set. Attempting to confirm attendees now.

36. Ride my bike with my kids at least 25 times in 2019.

I rode my bike with the kids 4 times in September for a total of 10 times in all.

37. I will not comment, positively or negatively, about physical appearance of any person save my wife and children, in 2019 in an effort to reduce the focus on physical appearance in our culture overall. 

I did not comment on physical appearance in September.

I also explained my policy to my new batch of students, and once again, they loved the policy and supported it fully. Adults often this this policy is crazy. Children always love it.

38. Surprise Elysha at least six times in 2019.

DONE! Six surprises so far with two more still in the works, including one BIG ONE!

39. Replace the 12 ancient, energy-inefficient windows in our home with new windows that will keep the cold out and actually open in the warmer months.

I’ve got a window guy now in the event we manage to cobble together the fund for this much needed project.

40. Clean the basement. 

Almost done! I filled a dumpster and need another, but the remaining stuff to throw away is in an area, organized and ready to go. Some final organizational issues need to be addressed, but it is so much better. So close to being done.

41. Set a new personal best in golf.

I started taking lessons this summer, and I’ve committed myself to constant practice. The results are really beginning to show.

Last weekend, I bogied six of nine holes. This did not result in an excellent score, or even a score close to my all time best, but it represents increasing consistency.

I also have a new putter, so it’s been a process of getting my putting back to where it once was, and my short game is a disaster with my new swing, bit that is improving, too.

Sadly, my lessons and new swing have sent me to physical therapy. A new swing causes muscles and joints to stretch and strain in new ways, which has resulted in a lot of pain.

But pain is nothing when the ball is hit well.

42. Play poker at least six times in 2019.

Three games played in September. Four games played in 2019.

Two to go.

43. Spend at least six days with my best friend of more than 25 years.

Two days spent together so far. I’ve attempted a couple other days but schedules didn’t line up. Still trying like hell. I miss the guy.

44. Post my progress in terms of these resolutions on this blog on the first day of every month.

Done.