Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 242

Best and worst April Fools Day ever

It's a day late, but I thought I'd chronicle the two greatest April Fool's Day pranks ever played on me. 

On Sunday, April 1, 1990, I awoke before the crack of dawn. Despite staying up until the wee hours of the morning, enjoying another one of our keg parties, I needed to be at McDonald's at 5:00 AM to open the store. 

I exited my bedroom, carefully stepping over friends and total strangers scattered throughout the house in sleeping bags and under blankets. I scurried past piles of empty beer bottles and solitary popcorn bags that I hoped would be cleaned up before I returned home later that day. I quietly pushed open the front door and walked across the lawn to the parking lot, where I spotted some poor soul's car wrapped so completely in toilet paper that the shape of the car was no longer discernible. It looked like an enormous rectangle of toilet paper.

I laughed as I walked the length of the row to my own car. 

When I reached the end of the row, I stopped. "Where's my car?"

No.

But yes. That car, wrapped in what must have been hundreds of rolls of toilet paper, was mine. It was so buried in toilet tissue that I hadn't recognized it as my own. It took me 30 minutes to clear off the car, making me late for work for the first time in my life. When I finally clawed my way down to the windshield, I found a small block of wood stuck under one of the wipers. Written on it were the words, "Daughters of Triton." 

I still have that block of wood. 

Sherry Norton and Jennifer Cull, who were still sleeping somewhere in my house that morning, were were responsible for that April Fools Day prank, which ranks high in my book of pranks pulled on me. 

The following year, on Monday, April 1, 1991, my friend, Kate O'Hare, came over to our house and told me through tears that she was pregnant.  

She allowed me to believe this for a long, long time. Eventually, I was at a party with Kate, and I saw her drinking. I panicked.

"Does she know she's not supposed to be drinking?" I wondered. I went over to her and asked. 

She laughed. "You still think I'm pregnant?" 

My friend, Bengi, may or may not have been in on this prank. He remembers being aware of it, but he can't quite remember if he was also pranked or merely helped to keep it alive. 

The longevity of Kate's prank makes it the best ever pulled on me, but The Daughters of Triton was a close second. 

My worst April Fools Day moment came in 2004 when I met with my principal, Plato Karafelis, early one morning in the back of the auditorium to inform him that I was dating Elysha. I had previously been dating the school psychologist, and I thought he should know about the change in girlfriends.

Better to hear it from me than through the grapevine. 

When I had started dating the school psychologist months before, I asked him if there was anything I should know in terms of staff members dating. His response:

"Don't let it end ugly."

I listened (though I've always ended relationships well). I'm still friends with that school psychologist today, and I was the DJ at her wedding two summers ago.

When I told Plato about Elysha, he said, "Yeah, right. I know it's April Fools Day."

"No," I said. "I'm serious. I'm dating Elysha."

Plato turned and walked away. "Like Elysha Green would ever date you!"

Three years later, Plato was the minister at our wedding ceremony.

It was an amusing moment. But it took about a week before he believed that we were dating, and his words stung a bit. 

"Like Elysha Green would ever date you?"

Admittedly I was a little surprised myself, but I really didn't need that level of astonishment reinforced so early in our relationship.   

Resolution update: March 2018

PERSONAL HEALTH

1. Don’t die.

Not even a near-death experience in March, which for me is saying something. 

2. Lose 20 pounds.

Two more pounds lost in March, bringing my total fo six. 

3. Eat at least three servings of fruits and/or vegetables per day. 

I had three servings of fruits and/or vegetables on 22 of 31 days in March. I also ate cabbage for the first time since I was a child (still tastes terrible) and quinoa (not a fruit or vegetable in some people's mind, but anything growing out of the ground is an accomplishment for me and should be counted).    

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

Done. 

5. Identify a yoga routine that I can commit to practicing at least three days a week.

No progress.

6. Stop using the snooze button.

Done. And I must tell you, I feel so much better when I climb out of bed when that first alarm sounds or I simply wake up.

Science is right. Snoozing is a terrible practice that you must end immediately.   

WRITING CAREER

7. Complete my seventh novel before the end of 2018.

My agent and I have yet to settle on the next novel. The decision should be made soon. 

8. Complete my second middle grade/YA novel.

I've submitted my first middle grade novel to my editor and am awaiting word. I can't choose or start the next book until the first is complete. 

9. Write at least three new picture books, including one with a female, non-white protagonist. 

No progress. 

10. Write a proposal for a memoir.

My agent and I have yet to decide upon which memoir to write. That decision should be made shortly. 

11. Write a new screenplay.

No progress.

12. Write a musical.

Initial talks for the plot, characters, number of songs, and deadlines have begun.

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

I've submitted one piece for consideration so far. It was rejected.

4. Write a proposal for a nonfiction book related to education.

No progress. 

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

No progress.

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

No progress. I'm still looking for possible behaviors to adopt. Suggestions welcomed. 

17. Increase my author newsletter subscriber base to 2,000.

Twenty-two subscribers added in March. A total of 89 added since January 1. At this pace, I will come close to hitting my goal by December.  

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18. Write at least six letters to my father.

One letter written in March, bringing my total to one. 

19. Write 100 letters in 2018.

Three letters written and mailed in March. Fifteen in total so far. 

20. Convert Greetings Little One into a book.

No progress.  

21. Record one thing learned every week in 2018.

Done! My favorite from March:

In July 1973 John Paul Getty III, grandson of wealthy tycoon John Paul Getty, was kidnapped. The whole story is fascinating, but here is one of the most fascinating parts:

In November 1973, an envelope containing a lock of red hair, a human ear, and a note was delivered to a daily newspaper with a threat of further mutilation of Paul unless $3.2 million was paid. The letter read, "This is Paul's first ear. If within ten days the family still believes that this is a joke mounted by him, then the other ear will arrive. In other words, he will arrive in little bits."

At this point, the reluctant tycoon Getty Sr. negotiated a deal to get his grandson back for about $2.9 million. Getty Sr. paid $2.2 million—the maximum amount that was tax deductible—and he loaned the remainder to his son, who was responsible for repaying the sum at 4% interest. 

STORYTELLING

22. Produce a total of 12 Speak Up storytelling events.

We produced one show in March - a showcase featuring storytellers from Voices of Hope - bringing our 2018 total to two. 

23. Deliver a TEDx Talk.

Both of my TEDx Talks - at Wesleyan University and The Birch Wathen Lenox School in New York City - have been cancelled.

Annoying.

I've applied for two more TEDx conferences and await word. Suddenly this goal became a lot more challenging.    

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

I did not attend a Moth event in March. My work with other organizations in a storytelling capacity sucked away all my time. My total stands at two. 

25. Win at least three Moth StorySLAMs.

I won my 35th StorySLAM in NYC in February. One down. Two to go. 

26. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

Done! I won my fifth GrandSLAM in Boston in February. I compete in another in April. 

27. Produce at least 25 episodes of our new podcast Storyworthy. 

Logo created.
Format decided.
Music is being chosen now.
I have every intention of recording in April.

28. Perform stand up at least four times in 2018. 

No progress. I had to cancel my paid standup performance in March due to a snowstorm. That has been rescheduled to May, and I plan on doing an open-mic in April.

29. Pitch my one-person show to at least one professional theater.

No progress.  

30. Pitch a new Moth Mainstage story to the artistic director of The Moth. 

No progress.  

NEW PROJECTS

31. Write a syllabus for a college course on teaching. 

No progress, but I am frustrated, annoyed, and disappointed by developments with a local college in terms their curriculum for student teachers, so I'm doing a lot of thinking on this issue. 

32. Cook at least 12 good meals (averaging one per month) in 2018.

No progress. 

33. Plan a 25 year reunion of the Heavy Metal Playhouse.

No progress. 

MISCELLANEOUS

34. Pay allowance weekly.

Done! 

35. Ride my bike with my kids at least 25 times in 2018.

No progress. 

36. I will report on the content of speech during every locker room experience via social media in 2018. 

Done. I spent 20 days at the gym (including the locker room) in March, and I did not hear a single comment related to sexually assaulting women.  

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. Once you stop commenting on physical appearance, you quickly realize how pervasive it is in our culture. I don't think it's a good thing at all.    

38. Surprise Elysha at least six times in 2018.

One down. Five to go.

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 received some more reasonable estimates for this project. It might actually be doable.     

40. Clean the basement. 

I threw away another handful of items in March in preparation for a full cleaning later this year.  

41. Set a new personal best in golf.

I played my first round of golf yesterday morning. I scored bogies on the first two holes and played fairly well until the last two holes. No where close to a personal best.  

42. Play poker at least six times in 2018.

I was forced to cancel my March game because a lack of players. An April game is scheduled.   

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

No progress.   

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

Done.

Traffic might make me a little crazy

I'm obsessed with this video, but I'm worried that I might be the only person in the world obsessed with this video, and that may say something not-so-great about me as a human being. 

It's always strange when state-run TV and the President aren't totally in sync

When state-run television Fox News publishes poll data like this, there should be absolutely no question about the will of the American people. 

Yet not a single one of these measures have been put into place. 

When the American people overwhelming support legislation, and that legislation does not happen, there is only one reason:

Money. 

Republican donors, including and especially the NRA, are blocking this legislation with threats to withdraw campaign donations, and politicians who favor dollars over the will and safety of constituents are allowing it to continue.  

Even more important, we must remember that when it comes to issues related to guns, America is not nearly as divided as Republicans and the NRA would have you believe. This poll - commissioned and published by Fox News - shows enormous consensus amongst Americans related to these basic, common sense measures.  

A large majority of Americans want gun reform. Reasonable, rationale, sensible gun reform. It's only a loud, political active minority with money to burn and the gutless, useless politicians who take their money who are preventing  it from happening. 

International Night: A reminder of what our country can and should be

Last night my family attended my school's first ever International Night.

I didn't know what to expect. I wasn't involved in the planning of this event, so when I arrived, I was blown away by all that we experienced. Lining the walls of the cafeteria and the hallway were booths featuring countries from around the world, each managed by students and families who originated from those countries. 

My school is filled with immigrants from all over the world:

Nepal, Israel, Peru, China, India, Germany, Sweden, Poland, Ireland, Vietnam, Mexico, Korea, Columbia and many, many more. 

Each one of these booths featured foods, information, and artifacts from the country, and it was staffed by adults and children who were excited to tell us all about their homeland.

Later, there were performances in a packed auditorium. We watched a Chinese yoyo demonstration, a martial arts demonstration, and lots and lots of dancing and music from all around the world. 

Elysha and the kids sat between a Nepalese family and two children from Vietnam. I watched one of my colleagues perform an Irish step dance. I chatted with folks from Poland, Peru, Columbia, and Mexico. 

Best of all, I didn't sit with my family. I chose to stand, partially because I wanted to be ready to take photos and videos of some of my student performers, but also because I wanted to watch my children's faces as they watched the performances. I love to see the wonder in Clara and Charlie's eyes as they watch something new and exciting, and these performances did not disappoint.

The little girl who loves learning about new countries and cultures was enthralled by every moment, and the boy who can't sit still for a single second sat still for nearly the entire time. It was as much fun to watch them as it was to watch the action taking place onstage.

It was a beautiful celebration of the many cultures that come together within our schoolhouse walls every day. 

We live in a country of immigrants, and this is one of our greatest blessings. My daughter ate Chinese moon cake and Irish cheese. She chatted with a student from China and asked questions from an immigrant of Sweden. Charlie was awestruck by the model of the Taj Mahal and stared in fascination at the Chinese yoyo. He "might want to learn to Irish step dance."  

What a remarkable evening of learning, connection, and understanding.

There are people in our country today who truly believe that America is a white, Anglo-Saxon, Christian nation, despite everything that our Funding Father's wrote and the long and storied history of the people who built this country. There are people in this country who would have us close our borders to the world, even when every economic study published states clearly and unequivocally that immigration strengthens a nation's economy. 

We have a President who would build a wall on our Southern border. We have a President who seeks to reduce immigration in our country to its lowest levels ever by removing family reunification systems and threatening DACA recipients by eliminating their protections. 

We have a President who routinely lies about the rate of illegal immigration and characterizes immigrants - documented and undocumented - in the most vile terms. 

We have a President who has been routinely deporting US military veterans because of their immigration status. They are good enough to risk their lives for us in Afghanistan and Iraq but not good enough to continue to reside in this country.    

Their country. 

Last night was a bold reminder about how beautiful our country can be when people of different cultures come together for a common cause. My heart and spirit were lifted last night as I looked across an auditorium that was awash in every color under the rainbow and saw nothing but smiling, happy faces.

Three continents in a single day

There is something to be said about the golden age of literature:

The time when television, film, video games, and the internet did not steal away eyeballs of potential readers.

Authors like Fitzgerald, Hughes, and Austin had enormous audiences of readers just waiting for their next books, aching for a new story or poem, because reading was one of the primary sources of entertainment in the world.

Today we have to shout and flail just to be noticed above the noise. More than a quarter of Americans report not having read a book within the past year. And more books are published today than ever before.

It ain't easy finding an audience. 

But there are some distinct advantages to publishing books in today's world. Yesterday was a fine example: 

It started with an email from a teenage girl in Columbia, who wanted to know if my upcoming book, Storyworthy, was going to be translated into Spanish. She's read Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend and The Perfect Comeback of Caroline Jacobs (both available in Spanish) and was hoping for the same from my next book. 

We exchanged emails throughout the day. She asked me questions about my novels and my writing process, and I asked her about the town where she lived and what she wanted to do for a living when she was finished with school. Despite the fact that we lived on two different continents and spoke two different languages, we connected in a way that would've been impossible just 20 years ago. 

I ended my day with an interview via Skype with an Australian-based podcast. The host of the show and I discussed Storyworthy and my storytelling career. Specifically, we talked about the teaching of storytelling, the components of an effective story, the best means of delivering presentations, keynote speeches, and the like.

I was able to engage in a face-to-face conversation with a woman on the other side of the world, and that conversation will be turned into a podcast that can be listened to by anyone in the world. 

Remarkable.    

But the moment that best illustrates the good fortune I feel about being alive today came in the middle of the day, when I received a Facebook mention from a reader in India.

He wrote:

"Awestruck seeing how the basic human emotions n stories are the same across continents and time zones and developed and developing countries.. one of my favourite author Matthew Dicks feeling the same in America which I sit and feel here in a corner in India.. Nostalgia is universal..."

This says everything.

A reader in India is reading my blog.

A reader in India is reading my books.

I'm the favorite author of a man in India. 

Best of all, thanks to the internet, enormous distances, multiple time zones, and countless cultural boundaries are pierced rather easily, bringing two people together in both thought and sentiment in a way that could've never happened before the twenty-first century.

I can't tell you how excited and surprised I was to see this appear on Facebook. Thrilled, even. 

Fitzgerald and Hughes and Austin had larger, more attentive audiences for sure. There were far fewer books being published in their day.  

But none of them could've connected with readers on three different continents, in two different languages, in a single day. If given the choice, I would absolutely take a larger, more attentive, more voracious audience of readers, but if that can't happen, I'll take days like yesterday and consider myself blessed. 

Memorizing phone numbers: An artifact of bygone days

My aunt sent a text message to the family this week informing us that her landline phone number was no more. 

It was a phone number that I have known since I was a boy (41 years according to her), and it's one of the last phone numbers that I know by heart

I know Elysha's phone number. 

I know our own landline number.

I know my father's phone number, which is also a landline (as far as I know, he has never owned a cell phone).

I don't actually know my phone number most of the time without looking at my phone. 

I know my friend Jeff's phone number, only because I use his name and number whenever I take out a golf cart. In the event that something goes wrong, they will come after Jeff instead of me.

I know my friend Bengi's landline and his parent's landline numbers, if those landlines still exist. I haven't called either one in more than a decade. 

I know the phone number of the parents of my high school girlfriend, though I'm not sure if that landline still exists, and she and her father have since passed away (and it kills me all over again just to write those words).  

I know the phone number of the school where I have worked for 20 years, and I can recall the number of two of the McDonald's restaurants where I once worked (one in Milford, MA and one in Hartford, CT), though I can't confirm that those landlines still exist.  

That's it, I think. 

Twenty years ago, I knew dozens of numbers. As a teenager and young adult, I probably knew well over 100 phone numbers by heart. Friends, family, and businesses that we called often.  

I remember loving my grandparent's phone number: 883-8642. So simple to remember. As a boy, I wondered how they tricked the phone company into giving them such a good number.  

I remember memorizing my own childhood phone number, 883-8309, at a table just outside Mrs. Dubois's kindergarten classroom with Mrs. Carroll, the woman who also taught me to tie my shoes.

Back then, area codes existed by were largely irrelevant, used only if you were calling a distant number. 

I still have old phone books filled with the phone numbers of my friends. One of these books contains close to 200 phone numbers. Friends who I called all the time, back in a day when plans were made and then executed without any adjustments because once you had left the home, communication was impossible until you were face-to-face with your friends. 

Back then, "Meet me at 7:15 in the parking lot of the Stop & Shop" meant something.  

I'm guessing that not a single one of those numbers in those books still exists today. 

It's not that I'd prefer to go back to a day when phone numbers were written in books and memorized. While that time feels nostalgic and lovely to me, there's nothing advantageous to the nostalgia. There's nothing positive about filling your mind with seven digit numbers. 

Even talking on the damn phone can be a pain in the ass. 

Conversely, I can see a multitude of benefits to a childhood spent without cellphones (a fact about my childhood for which I will be eternally grateful), but if human beings are going to have phones in our pockets, we might as well have a means of storing phone numbers by name.   

Still, I'm saddened by the news that my aunt's phone number is no more. It was a tiny piece of my childhood that still existed in today's world: a pristine artifact from a time long gone that has now succumbed to the relentless wheel of progress. 

Goodbye 883-8120. My aunt says she had that number for 41 years, and I probably knew that number for most of them. 

I suspect that it's a number I will always remember, even if dialing it will no longer cause a phone on the wall of my aunt's kitchen to ring.   

New Evangelical definition of marriage

Just so we're clear:

Evangelicals now believe that marriage is between a man, his third wife, a porn star, and a Playboy model.

March For Our Lives 2018

Elysha and I didn't attend the March for Our Lives yesterday. Thankfully, blessedly, our two children are unaware of the Parkland shooting and all that has happened in response. We've done our best to shield them from this unfortunate reality for as long as possible.

Preservation of childhood innocence. A chance to move through the world with a little less anxiety and fear.   

But that didn't stop me from following the marches online, which her extraordinary. We live in a challenging time, but yesterday's march, and The Women's March, and the students walk-out last week give me great hope. 

The American people are politically motivated and activated in a way I have never seen before. Young people want to change the world, and they have the tools today to do it. It gives me great hope for a brighter, better future.

Also, I think protest signs are fantastic. A burgeoning art form. Here are my favorites from yesterday. 

Book clubs on boats. Book clubs in cars. Book clubs complete with game shows and nudity.

In the past nine years, I've attended hundreds of book clubs to talk about my books. It is by far one of my favorite ways to meet readers, because unlike a book store or library appearance, these folks have already read my book and are prepared to ask some interesting questions.

I've also learned that not all book clubs are alike. I've seen some strange and fascinating things over the years while visiting with book clubs, including:

Game shows - complete with theme music and large, colorful props - designed to test book club members' knowledge of the storyPower point presentations arguing in favor of the next bookBuffets only containing foods mentioned within the bookSkinny dipping (admittedly, that was my own book club, and not me)End-of-year, Academy Award styled awards shows for favorite books and characters from the previous year (voted on by secret ballot by members of the book club)Heated arguments (and one woman storming out of the house) over disagreements about themes and plot points, (even though the author was there to definitively answer the question)

I've attended book clubs in living rooms, restaurants, backyards, libraries, community centers, and churches. I've joined book clubs via Skype with people from all over the country and the world. I once spoke with a group of Saudi Arabian women wearing head scarves that covered everything but their eyes.

Twice I've attended a book club hosted on a boat.

Perhaps the strangest book club I ever visited was one who I joined while driving through the Bronx. Elysha and I were on the way to a Moth StorySLAM and planned to arrive early so I could join the group via Skype on my phone to answer a few questions before the show. Traffic slowed us, so the call from the book club came as I drove through the Bronx to the show. 

Elysha pointed the camera at me, and as I navigated my way through the streets, I answered questions about Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend. The group even asked Elysha some questions about being married to an author.

We spoke for about 15 minutes. In that time, I found the theater, parallel parked, and wrapped up the call in the car while Elysha went to get a spot in line. 

I've often thought about writing a book about my wide and varied experiences with book clubs: both my own book club and the ones I've visited. It wouldn't be a terribly long or especially profound book, but that might make it the perfect book for book clubs everywhere.