Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 217

Just another Saturday night

It’s Saturday night in our house. An evening to relax. Enjoy ourselves. Have some fun.

What did our 9 year-old daughter, Clara, choose to do with her free time?

She read books on ancient Greece and ancient Rome, and then for funsies decided to create a Venn diagram comparing and contrasting the two cultures.

She’s cool that way. A real party animal.

"I had nothing else to do"

A few days before the midterm elections, Trump told reporters that he listened to one of President Obama's campaign speeches for Florida Democrats.

“I was in the plane,” he said. “I had nothing else to do. He had a very small crowd. They don’t tell you that."

Did you catch that? The leader of the free world had “nothing better to do.”

It’s appalling.

Trump had nothing to read? Nothing to plan? Not a single thing to learn? No member of Congress or governor or mayor or foreign leader to call? No supporter to thank? No meeting with a Cabinet member? No update on the California wildfires or North Korean weapons testing or the Syrian civil war or Brexit negotiations?

Not a single briefing from anyone in his administration?

Trump had “nothing better to do” so he watched Obama’s speech.

Had Trump said that he watched Obama’s speech to analyze his opponent’s strategy for winning the upcoming election, that would’ve been perfectly acceptable. A normal thing for a politician to do on the eve of the midterms.

But no. Trump didn’t watch the speech in order to scrutinize or strategize. He watched Obama’s speech because he had “nothing better to do.”

That sentence speaks volumes.

In at least the past 25 years, there has never been a single moment of my life when I had “nothing better to do.”

No exaggeration.

Honestly, the last time I can remember having “nothing better to do” was when I was 22 years-old and homeless, waiting out the long nights in the cold and the dark in the backseat of my Toyota Tercel.

I have always had something better to do. I am constantly waiting to get to my next thing. My plate is always overflowing. There is never a single second of my day when something hasn’t needed to be repaired, revised, refined, adjusted, examined, altered, advanced, or completed.

And I’m just me. Just an ordinary person with family and friends and work.

I’m not the President of the United States.

When Trump was campaigning for President, he constantly criticized President Obama’s work ethic. Complained about the President’s love of golf. Promised that he wouldn’t have any time for such things. Assured his voters that he’d be working all the time.

"I love golf,” Trump said. “But if I were in the White House, I don't think I'd ever see Turnberry again. I don't ever think I'd see anything — I just wanna stay in the White House and work my ass off, make great deals, right? Who's gonna leave? I won’t have time to go and play golf. Being President is too important. "

Since becoming President, Trump has spent, on average, one out of every 4.5 days at one of his golf clubs. More than twice as many rounds of golf than Obama played over the same period.

162 days in total so far (out of 666 days as President), often refusing to allow cameras to film him as he plays. Often refusing to answer questions about playing. Often denying playing even after reporters spotted him on the greens.

Trump has spent 24.3% of his time in office on a golf course, costing taxpayers more than $80,000,000 in security and travel.

In addition, Trump does not arrive to the office until 11:30 AM on most days and leaves before 5:00 PM, spending his mornings in the residence, watching cable news and calling members of the media.

He has yet to visit any of our troops overseas.

Skipped a World War I commemoration because of the rain.

Didn’t visit Arlington National Cemetery on Veteran’s Day.

Ignored Martin Luther King, Jr. Day and played golf instead.

This is a President who promised to work relentlessly for his voters yet finds himself with “nothing better to do.”

Appalling.

My son, the conceptual percussionist

Our son, Charlie, age six, designed a drum kit out of several of his toys.

Then he conceptualized a song called "Exploring Your Life" that... well, he can explain better than I ever could.

Whenever my kids do something like this, I cannot help but think that when I was their age, I was a small, useless parasite incapable of little more than eating, watching television, and playing in the dirt.

Trying to tell me something?

Working on one of my next books this morning when I looked up and saw this.

Apparently he doesn’t approve of this morning’s progress.

What is the meaning of life?

During the Q&A portions of my author talks, I always invite audience members to ask me challenging questions. No subject is out of bounds. The stranger the better.

I even give away prizes to the most challenging questions. 

At a recent author talk, perhaps in an attempt to receive a prize, someone asked me "What is the meaning of life?"

It's an age-old question that has been answered a million different ways (and probably be avoided more often than it is answered). 

For example:

“Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can’t help them, at least don’t hurt them.” ―The Dalai Lama

A good answer, but apparently not convincing enough, because the Dalai Lama has also said, “The very purpose of life is to be happy.”

You can flip-flop on your favorite diner, but the meaning of life should probably be more certain.

Other answers that I liked:

“The true meaning of life is to plant trees under whose shade you do not expect to sit.” ―Nelson Henderson

"Happiness is the meaning and the purpose of life, the whole aim and end of human existence." ― Aristotle

The meaning of life is not to be discovered only after death in some hidden, mysterious realm; on the contrary, it can be found by eating the succulent fruit of the Tree of Life and by living in the here and now as fully and creatively as we can. ― Paul Kurtz

“42” ― Douglass Adams

My least favorite answers to this questions come from actor Alan Alda:

“The meaning of life is life.”

Thanks, Alan. That really says a lot.

My answer on the night I was asked was this:

“The meaning of life is to stay alive for as long as possible.”

As soon as I said it, I knew that I liked it. Simple, straight forward, and in my experience, accurate.

If you’ve ever faced an honest-to-goodness life-or-death situation, you’ll know that taking just one more breathe can quickly become more important than any else in this world.

When standing on the brink of oblivion, another moment of existence feels like a lifetime.

Get Storyworthy for less than a dollar!

I am excited to announce that Storyworthy: Engage, Teach, Persuade, and Change Your Life Through the Power of Storytelling is being featured in a special 99-cent Autumn eBook Sale, which offers 12 amazing eBooks, from bestselling authors like Shakti Gawain, Don Miguel Ruiz Jr., HeatherAsh Amara, and more, for just 99-cents each (in the US only), from now until Thursday 11/15!

Order here! http://www.superbooksale.com

Trump has solutions for rising oil prices, a falling stock market, and the California wildfires. Thank goodness!

Fear not, friends. Recent tweets within the last 24 hours show that the President knows exactly what this country needs and has solutions to all of our problems.

For example, just yesterday morning:

Did you see that? When it comes to the price of oil, Trump demonstrates a remarkably nuanced understanding of supply and demand while simultaneously negotiating via Twitter using that often forgotten lever of power known as “hope.”

Yes, friends. The President “hopes” that oil prices stay low. With that kind of leadership, we should expect nothing less.

Or this tweet, which he also sent yesterday morning:

Trump points out that the complex and interconnected web pf the United States economy is not dependent upon corporate profits, global trade, interest rates, the cost of labor and other inputs, governmental regulations, consumer confidence, the soaring national debt, or his recent trade war with a host of nations.

None of those boring and complicated things are nearly as important to the US economy as how the Democrats in Congress treat him. Even before they take power in the House, the mere threat that Democrats might impose some level of accountability or provide a few checks and balances has sent the market into a tailspin.

Yesterday, at least.

The market has actually given back most of its 2018 gains over the course of the last three months, but still!

If the Democrats say mean things to the President, stocks suffer. If they are nice, the market will rebound.

Economics at its best, my friends.Lastly, the President offered these two gems over the weekend (in between skipping a service honoring Americans who died fighting in World War I because it was raining):

Surprise! The President has thankfully found a the solution for the California wildfires that continue to increase in size and severity:

Threaten and berate.

While many scientists, forest management professionals, and firefighters point to climate change as a key factor in the rise in these wildfires, the President says no.

Climate change is not real. Or is actually good for our country. Or something.

Instead, the public servants who manage our forests must simply need to “Get smart!” and “Remedy now!”

Thanks, Mr. President!

He also seems to think that cutting the budgets of these agencies when they are struggling to control these wildfires in the first place might also do the trick. This is the old, “You can’t do the work with this much money? Try doing it with half that amount!”

It’s out-of-the box thinking like this that makes me think America is indeed in good hands.

Speak Up Storytelling: Jenny Steadman (with special guest Danielle Dnes)

On episode #25 of the Speak Up Storytelling podcast, Matthew and Elysha Dicks are joined by storyteller Danielle Dnes to talk storytelling!

In our followup segment, we talk about upcoming Speak Up shows and messages received from around the world. 

Next, we talk about finding and collecting stories in your everyday life using "Homework for Life." Danielle recently reached the 100 day mark in her Homework for Life and shared it with Matt and Elysha. We poke through the 100 days to find some stories that Danielle didn't initially see upon first glance. 

Then we listen to Jenny Steadman's story about the pressures of playing golf with her grandfather and his pals. 

After listening, we discuss:

Effective character and location descriptions

Planting seeds early in a story that will sprout later

The best way to repeat a laugh line throughout a story

Pacing and pausing 

"The curse of knowledge" in storytelling

Next, we answer questions about a storytelling improv game that we use in workshops and is detailed in Storyworthy. We even play a round to demonstrate. 

Finally, we each offer a recommendation.  

If you haven't rated or reviewed Speak Up Storytelling on Apple Podcasts, PLEASE do! Reviews and ratings help others find our show.

How I fight crazy, strange, and beautiful people

Yesterday I wrote about my unusual Uber ride from the Jacksonville airport to Amelia Island.

In response to that post, friends and reader commented on how often I seem to meet such “interesting” and “strange” people and how my life can oftentimes seem more storyworthy than most.

This is not true, but I understand the perception. Two things make this so:

I open up a space for others to speak.

My Uber driver didn’t volunteer his conspiracy theories to me, and he didn’t launch into his misguided political diatribe unprompted. After getting into the car, I engaged in conversation. I asked him his name. I asked him if he drove for Uber for a living, which led to him describing his two other jobs.

Then I asked about those jobs. I demonstrated genuine curiosity. I learned a lot about the process of iPhone screen repair. I can now tell you the economics of mall kiosks in the Jacksonville area and the way that Apple ships parts to repair technicians. I can explain to you why repairing an iPhone screen is easier than repairing a Samsung screen, and I can explain how a nail salon can pay more than $200,000 in rent each year and still turn over an excellent profit.

All of this came from me asking questions and demonstrating a genuine interest in his life.

Then I asked him what he did in the little bit of free time he had. “Do have time for hobbies?” I asked.

“Do you like conspiracy theories?”

“Not really,” I said. “But I’d love to hear what you think.”

This is how I ended up with a story.

I open up space for people to talk and tell me stories. Instead of staring at my phone for the duration of the ride, which would’ve been easy, I decided to leave the damn thing in my pocket and engage with a human being. I did the same thing on the four flights to and from Florida. On each leg of the trip, I opened up a space for my seat mate to speak.

The first was not interested. He was watching a movie on his phone, so I did the same.

The next one spoke limited English, making conversation impossible.

The third, a young woman, fell asleep almost instantly and ended up awkwardly draped across my chest (a story in itself).

But the fourth, a man named Dave who lives in Meriden, chatted with me for a while, telling me the story of his visit with his ailing mother and “impossible sister.”

Not exactly conspiracy theories and iPhone economics, but he shared a story with me before turning back to his phone.

I talk to people. Part of this is a learned behavior after spending 15 years with my wife, Elysha, and part of it is my desire to hear stories. Engage with people. Make the moments of my life more meaningful and memorable than a screen ever will.

I tell my own stories.

While in Florida, I told a story about a challenging time during my childhood to an audience of a few hundred. I was honest, authentic, and vulnerable. I spoke about things that many are not willing to speak about.

In response, at least a dozen people shared their own stories with me. Some told me deeply personal stories about their own childhood struggles. I spoke to one man about our mutual love for the Atari 2600 game Adventure (and have since downloaded the game using an online emulator). The general manager of a hotel on the island offered me a free room if I bring my family for vacation.

One woman told me a secret that she had been carrying for more than 40 years. She had tears in her eyes as she spoke to me.

When you tell your stories, others are compelled to tell you their own, and as a result, connections are made. Doors are opened. The chance for storyworthy moments increases significantly.

It’s true that my life has been filled with some unusual moments. My life has been saved by paramedics twice. I was homeless for a period of time. Arrested and tried for a crime I did not commit. Carried from my childhood home in the middle of the night by a firefighter. Survived a horrific armed robbery. Been victimized by an anonymous, widespread attack on my character and my career. Fed my pet rabbit at Thanksgiving.

A lot of crazy stuff. You have some, too, I’m sure.

But eventually you tell all those stories. All those storyworthy moments from your past become known.

Then what?

When people say that my life seems more storyworthy than most, I point out my willingness to say yes to whatever opportunity crosses my path. My ability to see stories in moments that others do not.

But I also point out my willingness to listen. My desire to open up space and time for others to tell me their stories, and my willingness to share my own.

A storyworthy life is one filled with people. Connection and engagement. It’s about getting out of the house, turning off the television, lifting your face from the screen, and finding someone new. Doing something new. Opening your heart and mind to opportunities.

It means asking your Uber driver questions about his life rather than reading email or scrolling through social media. And finding out some disturbing facts about him in the process.

I had a terrifying Uber right in Florida last night.

I spent about 45 minutes in the back of an Uber last night on the road between Jacksonville International Airport and Amelia Island.

It was almost 2:00 AM when I climbed into the back of the car, so perhaps that’s why things got weird.

My driver was quite the conversationalist and had a lot to say. He was also an avid conspiracy theorist who was anxious to spread his propaganda. Among this many beliefs were these:

THEORY #1

In the 1940’s, the United States began cloning human beings to serve as doubles for any human being who needed to be eliminated or replaced. The most famous of all these replacements:

Michael Jackson

When Jackson’s hair caught fire on a Pepsi commercial shoot in 1984, his face was also horribly burned. The only way for the King of Pop to continue to entertain was for the government to activate his replacement clone, and since the technology was not exact, that is why Jackson’s complexion seemed to change over the years.

When I asked why the government thought it necessary to replace Michael Jackson, the driver said, “Michael Jackson was amazing. The world needed him.”

THEORY #2

The Illuminati controls NASA, which is not actually a space exploration agency but instead is instead a secret bunker-building construction company designing hideouts for the wealthiest human beings for when the apocalypse comes.

His proof: NASA in Hebrew (according to him) means “To Deceive” and the Illuminati like to hide clues in the open.

“Why do they hide clues out in the open?” I asked.

“It’s cooler that way,” he said.

It was disconcerting to think that there are Americans who have been fooled into believing conspiracies like this (and so many more), but here was the most frightening of his beliefs:

Jeff Bezos, founder and CEO of Amazon, is a terrible human being because when Donald Trump gave tax cuts to corporations, lots of them gave their employees holiday bonuses but Amazon didn’t. He was working for Amazon at the time at a fulfillment center and wanted the $500 bonus that Trump had tried to put into his pocket.

Up until this point, I had only listened. But with this, I had to speak up. I said something like this:

“I’m not saying Bezos shouldn’t be doing more for workers, but instead of a a tax cut for corporations and the wealthiest Americans, how about just a plain old middle class tax cut? You know, the kind Trump promised during the campaign and then lied about prior to the midterms? Remember when Trump said his wealthy friends were going to hate his plans for taxes? They loved his tax cut on the wealthy. A tax cut for the middle class would give you a lot more than $500 in your pocket, and it wouldn’t be a one-time payment. It would help you every day.”

His response:

“Yeah, but when I’m one of the wealthiest Americans someday like Bezos, then I’m going to love me some of that tax cut.”

The man is 34 years old. He has three jobs:

He drives Uber overnight.
He does nails at his mother’s salon.
He repairs cracked screens on iPhones.

He works three jobs and has a 7 year-old daughter to support, and instead of wanting the promised middle class tax cut, he would prefer $500 in cash and a tax cut just waiting for him when he makes it big.

That was the scariest thing he said all night. He is a man who really believes that tax obligations should be apportioned with the thought that he and everyone else will someday be as wealthy as Jeff Bezos.

He’s not the only one. Again and again, Americans vote against their self-interests with some eye to a future that is unlikely for them and impossible for everyone.

Help middle class families who are living paycheck to paycheck or line the wallets of the ultra-wealthy because some day you might be wealthy, too, and until then, $500 will make you feel good.

Give me Michael Jackson clones and an Illuminati-controlled NASA any day.