Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 208

This map is terrible. So is this administration.

The Trump administration is not a fan of details.

This was apparent early on when Trump’s official inauguration photo contained the sentence:

“No dream is too big, no challenge is to great.”

So stupid.

Since then, the American people have been subjected to misspellings of every kind, as well as obvious errors in administrative procedures and a fundamental lack of understanding of how the American government works. For example:

The disastrous attempted rollout of a racist travel ban

Children separated from their parents at the border that still cannot be found

Errors in his tax cut legislation that have prevented whole industries from benefiting from the cuts

Time and time again, the Trump administration has proven to be unconcerned and unaware of basic policies and procedures that govern this nation.

Which brings us to this map, which Treasury Secretary Steve Mnuchin stood beside last week.

See anything wrong with the map?

First, the United States is cut in half. Maps shown by United States officials don’t typically short-shrift our own country, particularly when countries like Russia and China are shown nearly in full.

But even worse (considering the cloud of suspicion that the Trump administration is under):

The symbol representing the White House is placed smack-dab in the middle of Russia

It might turn out to be symbolically accurate when all is said and done, but it’s just another detail that this administration has ignored and makes them look stupid.

Ignoring details isn’t always a terrible thing. I am famously ignorant of many, many details in life, so much so that it occasionally irritates colleagues and friends, including Elysha, who has an artistic eye and will obsess over aesthetic details that are completely lost to me.

I was once asked what color house we own, and I answered incorrectly. I argued vehemently that I was right until we arrived home and was forced to concede my mistake.

In the words of Plato Karafelis, I am the eagle (a position on a Native American spirit wheel). I see the big picture but am rarely close enough to attend to the minutiae.

Elysha, he went on to say, is the mouse. Detail-oriented (which is true) and able to see the small but significant things (also true) but sometimes unable to grasp the larger context.

Elysha pointed out that eagles eat mice, which didn’t make her feel good and was perhaps not the peppiest of pep talks for a wife who wanted to strangle her husband.

But not untrue.

All of this is fine, of course. because I am me. If I miss a detail, a test score doesn’t get entered in some probably meaningless computer software. Or I miss a row or three while mowing the lawn. Or I somehow put on two pairs of underwear before leaving the house.

But when you have your hands on the nuclear football, or you’re cruelly and indiscriminately separating kids from families at the border, or you’re enacting enormous and complex legislation designed to return money into the pockets of the wealthiest Americans while screwing the middle class, details are important.

They really, really matter.

The Trump administration, through their own actions, disagrees, and that should frighten us all.

Spielberg didn't hire me. Big mistake.

When I was 14 years-old, I went to see Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom at The Stadium in Woonsocket, Rhode Island.

After seeing Raiders of the Lost Ark three years earlier and loving it, I couldn’t wait to see the latest installment in this franchise.

When I left the theater after seeing the movie, I went straight home and wrote a letter to Stephen Spielberg, explaining to him that I thought he was a brilliant director who told fantastic stories but needed someone to watch the finished film to show him all the dumb parts so he could take them out.

Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom is filled with dumb parts.

To her credit, my English teacher at the time found the address of Paramount Pictures and sent the letter off for me, which was not an easy thing to do in a pre-internet 1983.

Spielberg, you’ll be surprised to hear, did not respond.

Honestly, I thought he would. In my 14 year-old mind, I felt certain that I had made an offer he couldn’t refuse.

More than 35 years have passed since that day, but I remain firm in my belief that filmmakers would do well to ask me to watch their movies and point out the dumb parts.

Recently, for example, I wrote about how in both Mary Poppins Returns and Wonder Woman, a white guy ends up saving the day when that job should’ve clearly been put in the hands of the female protagonist. These mistakes were so egregious that I can’t begin to imagine how those films ever made it to the screen without someone correcting the errors in these stories.

Last week Elysha and I watched Spielberg’s latest film Ready Player One. I had read and adored the book a few years ago, so I had low expectations going into the film.

It’s rare that a movie outpaces a book, though Spielberg has managed to accomplish this feat more than once with Jaws, Minority Report (a short story), and maybe Jurassic Park (I’m still not sure).

My low expectations were sadly realized.

Still, even though the film was never going to be better than the book, there were moments of real stupidity in that story that didn’t need to be there. Odd decisions by characters never paid off, shifts in tonality that tilted the film on its side, and at least one moment where an exceedingly obvious solution to an enormous problem was ignored by literally hundreds of people.

All would’ve been easily corrected had Spielberg asked me for advice. Had he answered my letter in 1983 and partnered with me then.

His loss, I guess.

Even so, things have worked out surprisingly well. Today I spend an enormous amount of time helping storytellers revise their stories.

I’m working with a documentarian, reading and revising scripts, looking for ways to improve her storytelling.

I’m working with an ad agency, helping to infuse more effective storytelling into national ad campaigns.

I’m working with small businesses, large corporations, universities, religious institutions, and hospitals to help them craft stories about their products, services, and missions.

I’m working with writers, reviewing their books, book proposals, magazine pieces, and television and film scripts and offering suggestions to improve their stories.

And I work with storytellers, listening to the stories they tell on stages and at the pulpit, in board rooms and in classrooms, at commencements and sales conferences, and everywhere in between.

Oddly, I’m doing the job that I first proposed to Spielberg 35 years ago.

It took me a little longer to get there, and perhaps I’m more skilled today than when I was 14 years-old, but it’s surprising - shocking, really - to realize that I have been on this same path for far longer than I would’ve ever imagined.

Ever since I was a kid, I was watching and listening to stories and trying to find ways to make them better.

It only took me 35 years to realize this.

No wonder Spielberg didn’t hire me back then.

Why the Kit Kat is a terrible candy bar

Here’s how I know that the Kit Kat is a terrible candy bar:

It’s not because it’s cheap chocolate poured over a tasteless wafer bar.

It’s not because it’s dry and crumbly.

It’s not because eating a Kit Kat makes you thirsty.

It’s not even because it tastes like despair.

No, it’s none of those things.

I know a Kit Kat is a terrible candy bar because it’s designed to be highly shareable. Nestle, the maker of the Kit Kat, knows that no one has ever wanted to eat a whole Kit Kat, so they have made it possible to share this awful excuse for a candy bar with up to three other people.

The Kit Kat isn’t a good candy bar in any sense of the word. It’s simply designed to make you look generous. Except the thing that you’re sharing is disgusting and unwanted.

That’s a Kit Kat.

Storyworthy: The Illustrated compendium

Someone far more creative and clever than I will ever be read my book, Storyworthy: Engage, Teach, Persuade, and Change Your Life Through the Power of Storytelling and created this amazing illustrated set of notes.

If you read the book, you’ll see how remarkably accurate these notes are. They truly capture the most important aspects of my instruction.

It’s really something.

Its also always an incredible honor to see someone engaging in something I have made in such a meaningful, personal, and creative way.

Makes me feel terrible for never building a diorama based upon a Kurt Vonnegut novel or never writing an epic poem about Ben Gunn’s life on Treasure Island.

Trump demonstrates his ineffectiveness with startling clarity

Here’s a particularly stupid act of Trumpian stupidity.

Back on January 4, 2018 Trump congratulated someone (I have no idea who) when the Dow exceeded 25,000 points for the first time.

Traditionally, Presidents don’t tout the rising of a stock market because the market can be unpredictable and exceptionally fickle. Attach your success to a rising Dow, and when market turns south, the implications are obvious:

You suck.

Also, the economy is far too complex for a President to credit himself for any short term rise in any index.

Every President before Trump has understood this and avoided taking credit for any short term changes in the market lest they end up looking stupid and ineffective.

Case in point:

On January 30, 2019, almost exactly one year after that first tweet about the Dow exceeding 25,000, Trump once again tweeted the news that the Dow had exceeded 25,000. This is because between last year’s tweet and this year’s tweet, the market had fallen considerably and spent the end of 2018 climbing out of the hole.

Essentially, what Trump did was point out that within the previous calendar year, the Dow had failed to grow at all.

In other words, he sucked.

In fairness, Trump probably didn’t realize any of this because he knows nothing about economics, nor does he seek the advice of economists or even invest in the market.

He’s simply an ignoramus when it comes to economics.

In fact, had he taken the $60.7 million that his father had given him (not the $1.5 million dollars that Trump claimed for years) and invested it in a simple index fund, Trump would be far wealthier than he is today and wouldn’t have needed to pursue a Trump Tower in Moscow throughout the campaign while lying about it to the American people again and again.

Gratitude and perspective on the eve of the Super Bowl

I’m writing this an hour before the kickoff to Super Bowl 53 to remind myself about how I’m feeling right now in case some ridiculous catch or devastating strip sack ruins my night.

My friend, Steve, says that as a Patriots fan, I’m spoiled, and he’s right. But more than spoiled, I’m so incredibly fortunate.

For the past 19 years - in the prime period of my adulthood, in a time when I’ve owned season tickets and attended most of the Patriots home games, I’ve had the honor of watching the greatest sports dynasty maybe ever.

The Yankees might contend for that title, but since I’m also a Yankees fan, I don’t need to squabble over positioning.

The point is that I realize how lucky I am. Truly.

I have watched the team I love - the team that I first fell in love with while sitting at my grandfather’s feet on Sundays, cheering on the team - play in 11 Super Bowls.

21% of all Super Bowls ever played.

I watched the Patriots lose in ‘86 while sitting in the living room of my childhood home. I was 14 years old, and I wept that day.

I watched them lose again in ‘96 in my friend’s living room. As Desmond Howard ran back a kickoff for a touchdown, I threw my shoe through the wall above the TV, angering my friend’s wife quite a bit. .

Then I was sitting in Shep’s living room in 2001 when the underdog Patriots beat the same team they play tonight for their first Super Bowl championship.

I wept that night, too.

Beginning that year, I have spent countless Sundays and the occasional Monday and Thursday night in Gillette Stadium watching this team play brilliant football.

I have watched Tom Brady’s team play in 13 AFC championship games. I have personally attended 7 of those games.

I’ve watched the Patriots go undefeated in the regular season. I’ve watched them win a record 21 games in a row. I’ve watched Tom Brady win 11% of all Super Bowls ever played.

Yes, there has been disappointment, too.

The goddamn helmet catch. Mario Manningham’s catch. The Welker drop. Brady’s lost season. Last year’s strip sack. Singular plays that cost the Patriots three more Super Bowl championships.

But I also watch the Patriots win their first Super Bowl as the clock ticked down to zero. I watched Adam Vinatierii make two impossible kicks in the snow to send the Patriots to the AFC championship game. I watched an unlikely cornerback named Malcolm Butler intercept a pass in the end zone at the end of a Super Bowl to secure a Patriots victory. I’ve watch the Pats come back from 28-3 to win a Super Bowl in overtime.

It’s been a glorious run. And thankfully, I’ve been in a position to enjoy every moment. Tom Brady took over the team when I was 30 years old. Old enough for me to have watched those two early Super Bowl losses. Old enough to know the pain of a 2-14 season back in ‘92. Old enough to remember Steve Grogan and Stanely Morgan and John Hannah and Andre Tippett and Steve Nelson. Old enough to remember the snowplow game. Old enough to have lived through so many losing seasons.

Also old enough to watch every single game of this remarkable run. Almost half of them in person with some of my best and closest friends.

Yes, I’m spoiled. And win or lose tonight, I will consider myself so very fortunate to have been a Patriots fan through this remarkable period in the franchise’s history.

Having said that, I really, really hope we win.

Speak Up Storytelling #35: Ophira Eisenberg

On episode #35 of the Speak Up Storytelling podcast, Elysha Dicks and I talk storytelling!

In our followup segment, we hear from a teacher who is using Homework for Life in her classroom and a listener who had to do one of the strangest things I've ever heard of in a storytelling show.

We also get a little more information on Harry Belafonte. 

In our Homework for Life segment, we talk about how we're often in the middle of the story, and if we're patient enough, an ending will eventually reveal itself (as unfortunate as that ending might be). We also talk about choosing the structure of a story based upon the time frame of your story.

Next we listen to Ophira Eisenberg's story about a mysterious box in the closet.   

After listening, we discuss:

Effective humor throughout the story

Stakes!

Echoing the thoughts of your listeners 

Effective pacing in a story when the surprise is no longer surprising

Specificity

Next, we answer a question about extending stories told on the stage to the written form.  

Finally, we each offer a recommendation.  

LINKS

Harry Belafonte on The Muppets

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 

Subscribe to Matthew Dicks's weekly newsletter: 
http://www.matthewdicks.com/matthewdicks-subscribe

Subscribe to the Speak Up newsletter: 
http://www.matthewdicks.com/subscribe-speak-up

RECOMMEDATIONS

Elysha:

Hidden Figures: The True Story of Four Black Women and the Space Race by Margot Lee Shetterly

Matt:

Ophira Eisenberg - The Accident

Bravery beyond compare

Last night I did something exceptionally daring. Some might say courageous.

Elysha was in the middle of a sentence when she stopped, searching for a word that she could not find.

I thought I might know the word that she wanted, but I hesitated for a moment, because we all know that this can only go two ways:

You suggest the correct word, and you are an instantaneous hero. A champion. Finding the word that your beloved is searching for is a perfect indication of your intimacy and shared human experience. You were made for each other. This relationship was meant to be. It’s likely that you’ll be making out before long.

You suggest the wrong word, and your loved one dismisses your suggestion like a piece of trash. You shrink under the weight of their disappointment and scorn. You can’t believe how stupid you are.

Then, in an attempt to make things right again, you suggest a different word. That one is wrong, too, and now your loved one thinks of you as human garbage. Their voice is filled with irritation and disgust. Suddenly your entire relationship is drawn into question. A chasm tears open between the two of you as your beloved wonders how they could’ve ever thought that this relationship was meant to be.

Offering a word to your loved one is treacherous ground. Sometimes deadly. Oftentimes it’s better to simply remain silent and allow your loved one to flail about unassisted.

But last night I steeled myself against possible ruination and suggested the word that Elysha might be seeking, and I was right.

Huzzah!

Champion-status attained. Relationship validated. We lived happily ever after.

Sometimes we have to step and be brave in the face of possible disaster, people. Last night I did just that, and it paid off handsomely.

An answer to the stupid question, "How can it be so cold if global warming is real?"

Trump tweeted about the weather at least twice last week, calling into question climate change and global warming given the cold temperatures that have recently gripped the nation.

This is so stupid and so dangerous. Climate change is one of the greatest threat to our country. American intelligence agencies, including the Pentagon, have said so repeatedly.

This is no joke. Our inaction will cause enormous suffering for our grandchildren and great grandchildren.

And the science is clear and peer-reviewed. Seventeen of the warmest years on record have occurred in the last 18 years, according to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. 

Isn’t that enough evidence? In the 169 years that we have been methodically recording global temperatures, the last 18 have been warmer than the previous 151. Beyond the mountains of data collected by climate scientists, isn’t that enough to convince even the most willfully ignorant that climate change is happening?

When faced with one of these climate-denying morons (like Trump) or someone who is honestly and naively questioning the science because of an especially harsh cold spell, this xkcd comic might be helpful:

Resolution update: January 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 January.

__________________________________

PERSONAL HEALTH

1. Don’t die.

Completely alive. Unless, of course, this is all just a computer simulation, which is entirely possible. But if that’s the case, there’s nothing I can do about it.

2. Lose 20 pounds.

I have lost exactly zero pounds in January.

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

Done! It required a lot of bananas, grapes, and apples, but I did it!

Also, potatoes in any form are a vegetable.

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

Done.

5. Do burpees three days a week.

Done. I did 1-6 burpees per day, three days a week. I also hurt my thumbs in the process. They are really sore.

What the hell?

WRITING CAREER

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

Wrapping up my middle grade novel this week and will dive into the next adult novel next month.

Kind of waiting for a go-ahead from my editor, too. This is the problem with being two books ahead. No one is in a rush for your 2022 novel.

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

No progress.

8. Write a memoir.

I started writing. I wrote three pages and hated all three of them.

I’ve decided to start in a new place, which means I’m now starting over again.

9. Write a new screenplay.

No progress.

10. Write a musical.

No progress.

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

No progress.

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.

No progress. Also, I need three behaviors to attempt.

Thoughts?

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

249 new subscribers in January. Two more months with numbers like that and I’ll achieve my goal before spring.

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

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Thank you!

15. Write at least six letters to my father.

None written in January but I received one, which was very exciting.

16. Write 100 letters in 2019.

Two letters written in January. Off to a flying start.

17. Convert Greetings Little One into a book.

A couple of people are considering taking on this project on my behalf, so there is possible positive movement in this regard.

STORYTELLING

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

No shows produced so far in 2019.

We launch our season at Infinity Hall in Hartford on Saturday, February 23. You should come!

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

Revisions of the new logo continue. Once it is finalized, swag can be ordered.

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

I’ve pitched myself to three TEDx conferences so far.

One has expressed interest. No word from the other two.

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

I attended two Moth events in January:

A StorySLAM and a GrandSLAM.

22. Win at least three Moth StorySLAMs.

I won a Moth StorySLAM in Boston in January.

One down. Two to go.

23. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

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

I’ll be competing in another GrandSLAM in March.

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

Four new shows released in January. We didn’t miss a week.

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

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

I’ve hit a bit of a snag in terms of this goal. The open mic night where I’d been performing was shut down thanks to stupid people behaving in stupid ways. I have an opportunity to perform in a local comedy showcase, which I will do, but I’d also like an open mic where I can perform on a regular basis.

If you know of an open mic in the Hartford area, please let me know.

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! Scheduled for June 1. Enroll today!

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.

No response yet.

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.

No progress.

32. Renovate our first floor bathroom.

Contractor has visited our home and advised us in terms of the work required. Elysha has tentatively chosen tile and sink. Work should commence soon.

I can’t wait.

33. Organize our second floor bathroom.

No progress.

MISCELLANEOUS

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

I made breakfast for dinner for the family in January. Pancakes and bacon.

One down. Eleven to go.

35. Plan a reunion of the Heavy Metal Playhouse.

No progress.

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

Weather has made this impossible.

37. I will not comment, positively or negatively, about physical appearance of any person save my wife and children, in 2017 in an effort to reduce the focus on physical appearance in our culture overall. 

Done! I did not comment on physical appearance with the exception of my wife and children in January.

Done with ease.

38. Surprise Elysha at least six times in 2016.

I mailed a card to Elysha’s school, telling her how I much I love her.

One surprise complete.  

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.

No progress.

40. Clean the basement. 

Incremental progress. Every week I throw away or organize a few items. It’s still going to require a full day at some point and perhaps a trip to the dump.

41. Set a new personal best in golf.

Weather has made this impossible.

42. Play poker at least six times in 2019.

No progress.

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

I spoke to my friend and we agreed to see each other much more often. He proposed an evening out in January, but I was unavailable. We both agreed to get together in February.

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

Done.