Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 248

$1.50 and a deleted tweet says everything you need to know.

This is a real tweet, posted and then quickly deleted by Paul Ryan after an enormous backlash from the internet.

This is what Republican lawmakers actually think:

An extra $1.50 per paycheck is a meaningful increase. Something worth bragging about. 

Meanwhile, estimates

What Ryan doesn't want you to know is five things:

More than 80% of the tax cut benefits went to the top 1% (which is why this secretary is only seeing an increase of $1.50 per paycheck).Trump will save an estimated $15 million dollars thanks to the tax cut, and his son-in-law, Jared Kushner, will save an estimated $12 million dollars. The U.S. government is set to borrow nearly $1 trillion this year, an 84 percent jump from last year, thanks to the tax cut. The rising national debt has already triggered a rise in interest rates, which were partly responsible for the Dow's 666 point selloff on Friday. Ryan received a $500.000 donation from the Koch family immediately after the tax bill was signed. 

This is truly the fleecing of America. Enormous sums of money are now running directly into the coffers of the wealthiest Americans, while high school secretaries are left with $1.50 extra per week. 

It's not wrong. It's not irresponsible. It's just plain evil. 

The offer of a golden toilet seems just right

If you're looking to make a charitable donation to a worthy organization, might I suggest you consider the Guggenheim Museum in New York?

Thanks to a recently leaked email, when the White House emailed the Guggenheim in September and asked to borrow Vincent Van Gogh's 1888 painting "Landscape with Snow," the curator made a counteroffer:

A fully functional 18-karat gold toilet.

The toilet is an interactive work titled “America” that critics have described as pointed satire aimed at the excess of wealth in this country.

It might not seem like much, but institutions like the Guggenheim art can play a role in refusing to normalize this Presidency, which is important.

Other examples:

Obama's inaugural concert featured Beyoncé, Mary J. Blige, Jon Bon Jovi, Garth Brooks, Sheryl Crow, Josh Groban, John Legend, John Mellencamp, Bruce Springsteen, James Taylor, U2, and Stevie Wonder, with speeches and readings by Jack Black, Steve Carell, Rosario Dawson, Jamie Foxx, Tom Hanks, Samuel L. Jackson, Ashley Judd, Martin Luther King III, Queen Latifah, Laura Linney, George Lopez, Marisa Tomei, Denzel Washington, Forest Whitaker and Tiger Woods.

Trump's inaugural concert featured Lee Greenwood, Three Doors Down, and a speech by Jon Voight.  

Trump also declined the traditional Presidential invitation to the Kennedy Center Honors for fear of backlash, and he refused to attend his own White House Correspondence Dinner, becoming the first President since Reagan to weasel out of this annual event. 

He has also declined to be interviewed prior to this year's Super Bowl, making him the first President in 17 years to skip this tradition.

Add to this his historically low rating for his recent State of the Union address, his historcally low approval rating, and the enormous number of Republican Senators and Congressmen who have announced their retirements prior to the 2018 midterm election, and it's clear that as much as Trump wants to claim victory at every turn, this is not a normal Presidency, and America and its institutions are working hard not to normalize it.

Including offering him a golden toilet instead of a Van Gogh.

These things also make Trump look stupid and sad, which ain't a bad outcome, either.   

Four books in two months has been challenging, and this isn't helping.

I'm working like hell to wrap up my first middle grade novel. It should be done in a day or two.

I'm excited about the idea of writing a book aimed at the students I teach. Although Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend and The Perfect Comeback of Caroline Jacobs crossed over into the YA market, this book is actually written with kids in mind.

It's a highly autobiographical novel entitled Cardboard Knight.

It's also a month late, which is not like me, but things got a little crazy at the end of 2018. Many books required attention all at once: 

My first book of nonfiction, Storyworthy: Engage, Teach, Persuade, and Change Your Life Through the Power of Storytelling, hits the bookstores on June 12. I'm proofreading now and will be narrating the audio version this spring. 

It's available for preorder. If you want to help an author out.  

I also finished my next adult novel, currently titled How I Ended Up Here: A List, just a few weeks ago. It's in the hands of my editor, so I'll be revising soon.  

I'm also in the process of revising a novel entitled The Other Mother, which will come out in the US in 2019 or 2020 but will publishes in the UK in November of 2018. 

It's a long story that I'll share someday soon. 

In short, it's been a busy couple months. 

Also, this is definitely not helping in terms of getting the work done.  

Resolution update: January 2018

Note: I've added a goal since posting my 2018 goals on January 1:

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

I've had the honor of performing two stories on Moth's Mainstages over my career. I'd like to pitch another story to them in 2018.

PERSONAL HEALTH

1. Don’t die.

The AFC championship game got pretty intense, and a strange man in the stands at Gillette Stadium kept massaging my shoulders, but I survived, and happily, so did the Patriots . 

2. Lose 20 pounds.

Four pounds down. At this rate I'll be 48 pounds lighter by the end of the year and resemble something of a dish rag.

Fear not. I always start the year out strong. 

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

I had three servings of fruits and/or vegetables on 21 of 31 days in January.  

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. The allure of ten more minutes in bed is strong, but the refreshed feeling of rising immediately is better.  

WRITING CAREER

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

I'm in the process of proofreading my next book and revising my next novel for the US and my next novel for the UK, so the launch of this novel has not yet commenced. 

8. Complete my second middle grade/YA novel.

I'm in the process of proofreading my next book and revising my next novel for the US and my next novel for the UK, so the launch of this novel has not yet commenced. 

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.

No progress. Once proofreading and revisions are complete, my agent and I will discuss which of these memoir ideas should be written first.

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.

No progress. 

14. 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 also looking for possible behaviors to adopt. Suggestions welcomed. 

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

63 subscribers added in January. I'm off to a roaring start. 

18. Write at least six letters to my father.

None written in January.

19. Write 100 letters in 2018.

No letters written in January. Finishing a book was a priority. 

20. Convert Greetings Little One into a book.

No progress.  

21. Record one thing learned every week in 2018.

Done! My favorite from January:

In 1950, the city of Guadalajara moved a telecommunications building 10 feet in order to widen a city street while employees of the telephone company continued working inside. Also inside the building were the wife and son of Jorge Mantute, the architect of the move. They were positioned in the building to demonstrate Mantute's faith in the safety of the telecommunication workers. 

Today a statue of Mantute stands in his honor. 

STORYTELLING

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

We produced one show in January at Infinity Hall in Hartford. 

23. Deliver a TED Talk.

I will be delivering a TED Talk at Wesleyan University in April. 

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

I did not attend a Moth event in January. I was scheduled to attend two, but poor weather and an Elysha illness kept me home. 

25. Win at least three Moth StorySLAMs.

No progress. 

26. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

I am competing in a Moth GrandSLAM in February. 

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

No progress.

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

No progress.

I am performing standup twice in February, including my first paid performance.

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. 

NEW PROJECTS

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

No progress. 

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 21 days at the gym (including the locker room) in January, 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. I've also encouraged my students to adopt the same policy, at least while in the classroom.

38. Surprise Elysha at least six times in 2018.

No progress. 

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 looked into the cost of this project. Yikes!    

40. Clean the basement. 

I threw away 11 items in January in preparation for a full cleaning later this year.  

41. Set a new personal best in golf.

No progress. 

42. Play poker at least six times in 2018.

I was forced to cancel a planned game in January because weather moved an event onto my poker night. I also planned on playing at a Patriots tailgate but ended up talking and eating for the entire time. 

I have a game scheduled for February.

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.

This video has aged badly. Very, very badly.

I like this song. It's always a hit when I play it at a wedding. 

But the video has not aged well. In fact, I would argue that it's become nearly unwatchable. If Michael Jackson were alive today, it would behoove him to scrub it completely from the Internet. 

It's not good in a really not good way. 

You're a writer? A real writer?

The oddity of being a writer is this

You often find yourself constantly explaining that yes, it's true. You are in fact a published writer. A paid writer. A professional writer. A person whose career is to assemble words in an entertaining and informative order.

While eating large amounts of protein at a tailgate recently, my friend, Shep, joked about how you never know when something you say or do might end up in one of my books. 

"Wait," the guy standing next to me said. "You really write books?"

"Yes," I said. 

"Real books?" he asked. "Like on Amazon?"

Happily, Shep came to my rescue. "Yes, he publishes books. He gets paid to write them. He writes for magazines and other stuff, too." 

I was happy for the assist. It's always awkward to justify your existence. Always a little embarrassing to be forced to validate your career. Sometimes I wish I had a business card that read: 

"Yes, I'm a writer. I've published four novels and have three more, plus a nonfiction book on storytelling, coming out in the next two years. My books have been translated into more than 25 languages, and one of them is an international bestseller. Three are optioned for film. I also write the humor column for a regional magazine and occasional for publications like Parents magazine. And I've been writing a daily blog for more than a decade. Also, I'm not rich. I'm not close to being rich."

Hand the card over and end the interrogation. 

"Interrogation" is not an exaggeration. I can't tell you how many times I tell someone that I'm a writer (or Elysha tells someone that I'm a writer) and we are immediately bombarded with questions about the validity of my claim. Questions that include:

Do you sell books at fairs and farmer's markets and stuff?Are they just e-books that you make on your own? Do you publish with an actual book company?Where can I get your books?Can I find your books in actual stores? Libraries? Amazon?Do you actually make money on your books?How come I've never heard of you?

And the shockingly common:

Do you sell your books out of the back of your car? 

I suppose there are other professions that get similar questions. If I was a professional baseball player, actor, sculpture, or musician, I might be asked to justify my career, too. 

But why?

If asked what you do for a living, and your answer is, "I'm in a band," you should not be required to provide a tax return in order to prove that you make money playing your guitar and singing backup vocals in your folk-metal fusion quartet.

Or that yes, people buy my naked lady sculptures for their gardens. Or yes, I am paid to perform Shakespeare onstage. Or yes, I'm the backup catcher for the Rochester Redwings of the International League.  

I suppose that because their are no amateur attorneys or accountants or astronauts, it is presumed that these people earn a living from these pursuits, and thus proof of income is not required. 

After all, I've performed in local theater and never been paid. And my son came home yesterday with a sculpture of a mouse that has yet to receive any offers from collectors. And yes, there was a time when I was writing and not earning any money for my efforts. 

Still, when someone asks what I do for a living, and I say writer, it would be nice if people would assume that "earning a living" means "Yes, I get paid to write stuff."

Save money. Pee on this page.

For the first time in the history of the world, a company wants you to pee on their magazine ad, and it's brilliant. 

I love this and hate this.

It's rare that a document can bring joy to my heart and enrage me all at the same time. 

King Jordan, the student who wrote this journal response, clearly has strong and justifiable feelings about Columbus Day and the reality of the explorer's accomplishments. While his journal response might not be the most measured and thoughtful reflection of his learning that day, he is being both honest and passionate. A teacher should be thrilled with a journal response like this.  

I would be. I loved this journal response. I admired it. 

King is also a kid. While he was admittedly not as respectful in his response as I might like, he should be afforded some latitude when it comes to expressing his feelings in writing. He was angry. He felt powerless. And he's a kid, damn it. Give him a break. He's writing. Finding his voice. Experimenting with the craft. Help him write a more respectful and perhaps effective response, but celebrate this attempt. Cheer him on. Encourage this level of passion and honesty always.    

Instead, the teacher makes a bunch of terrible choices. Rather than being open to criticism and the possibility of divergent thinking, he reacts emotionally and defensively. He takes his student's criticism personally.

Instead of offering the constructive criticism that this student deserves, he responds in a single sentence, and his feedback is both irrelevant and thin-skinned. He also puts this meaningless and atrocious feedback in writing, thus making it both public and permanent. He doesn't encourage further conversation or reflection. He simply tells his student that he doesn't like what he wrote and that it makes him sad.

He also randomly and incorrectly capitalizes the J in journal in his response, which annoys me to no end. 

It's a selfish, stupid response that does a disservice to the teaching profession and a greater disservice to a student who is passionate about his education. 

King's response to his teacher's feedback is brilliant: 

"OK." A single word that offers nothing by way of emotion or agreement.

It's all a response like this deserves. 

Our boy watches Star Wars for the first time

My son Charlie, age 5, watched episodes 4, 5, and 6 of Star Wars with me and Elysha over the past two weeks. 

It was quite the experience. 

Though he knew almost nothing about Star Wars, he owns about a dozen action figures and received a Millennium Falcon for Christmas this year. He knew there were good guys and bad guys, but that was about it. He had sadly realized just a couple weeks before that the movie's title is Star Wars and not Star Whores. 

He was primed for viewing.

He loved the first Star Wars movie, originally titled Star Wars when I sat in the aisle in The Stadium in Woonsocket, RI back in 1977 to watch it for the first time.

Today it's titled A New Hope, and although George Lucas has tinkered with the film several times over the years, it's just as great as it was when I watched it as a six year-old boy.

The first picture was taken as John William's opening began and the famous Star Wars scroll appeared. He was saddened at the death of Obi Won Kenobi and shouted with joy when the Death Star was destroyed. 

When I told him that the next episode was titled The Empire Strikes Back, he said, "Uh oh. Doesn't sound like the good guys are going to win."

It was a tough movie for him. The Rebellion struggles throughout the movie, but what was most upsetting to him was the discovery that Darth Vader is Luke's father. The second photo was taken as that information was revealed for the first time.

He was genuinely upset. Confused, too. 

A day later, he asked me in a hushed tone, "Dad, will you ever turn to the dark side?"

I realized that this was the first time Charlie saw a father behave badly. It shook him to the core. 

Later, he said, "Dad, I think Darth Vader will turn back to the good side."

Of course, he was right. In Return of the Jedi, Darth Vader sacrifices himself in order to save his son's life and kill the Emperor. Charlie cheered again but was saddened to discover that Darth Vader was dying.

"But he's good now. Why does he have to die?"

Later, Luke cremates Vader's body. Charlie asked what was happening, and I explained that some bodies are buried and others are burned into ashes. Charlie said, "You'd better not burn me."

He has all three movies available to him now on his iPad, which is unbelievable to me. I watched that first film in a theater so jam packed that I had to sit in the carpeted aisle, and then I didn't see the movie again for more than a decade.

He has them at this fingertips.

He's watched A New Hope a couple times since that first viewing and still cheers when the Death Star is destroyed. I suspect that he may go back to Return of the Jedi at some point, too. 

But it might be a while before he returns to The Empire Strikes Back. Charlie prefers to live in a world where fathers never turn to the dark side and the good guys triumph in the end. 

Who can blame him?

The hardest and best apology

I've managed to do this several times in my life, and it's true. Life becomes a lot easier when you simply forgive, absent of any apology.

It's like lifting an enormous weight off your shoulders.  

I've also failed to find this type of unsolicited forgiveness at least twice in my life. In both cases, I know that my peace of mind would be far greater if I could just find forgiveness in my heart, but alas, it has thus far eluded me.

Some things are just harder to forgive than others.