Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 256

I've been told that I'm going to hell. I'm not sure I agree.

About a month ago, I wrote a post that criticized Pastor Greg Locke, an outspoken, Trump supporter who opposes the rights of gay, transexual, and transgender Americans and has gone so far as to call them mentally ill and criminal. 

Specifically, I attacked the ridiculousness of Locke's ""Don't you dare lecture us" rhetoric in response to Eminem's freestyle rap video about Donald Trump after it was clear that Eminem had already lectured to him and he had already listened to it. 

It's a bit of verbal puffery that I cannot stand. 

In response to this piece, a man wrote to me (via Facebook), saying, "Your going to hell."

After pointing out to the gentleman that his response required the contraction "You're" instead of the possessive "Your," I found myself wondering how someone who is religious found his way to believing that this blog post was enough to send me to hell.

As you may know, I'm a reluctant atheist, so the threat of hell is fairly meaningless to me. Even when I possessed faith in God as a child, I never believed in the existence of hell. But this man probably does, and he apparently believes that I am going to suffer eternal damnation as a result of my critique. 

It seems like a bit of a stretch. One blog post and I'm forced to suffer the fires of hell for all time? 

I clicked on the parts of his Facebook page that are public, and he seems like a decent man. He lives in Hillsboro, Alabama and makes his living as a welder. He has a beautiful family. Smiling children. A seemingly loving wife. They are a family that seem to enjoy football and their faith.  

Yet he believes I'm going to hell.

Would he still believe this if he didn't know me via the Internet? Would he says these words to my face if we were eating a meal together? If our families were picnicking together? If we were watching a football game side by side?

I like to think not. 

Yes, I have my many flaws, and yes, as much as I wish I had faith in God, I don't.

But I want faith. I strive for faith. Does that count for anything?

I also have two cute-as-a-button kids with kind hearts and great minds who love me. I married a remarkable woman who still loves me eleven years after we were first married. I've dedicated the last 20 years of my life to teaching children in the public schools. I just spent a weekend in Kansas City, donating most of my time and expertise to help the poor, the homeless, and the underserved tell their stories. Last night I worked with the children of Holocaust survivors to tell their story. I've worked with ministers, priests, and rabbis to help them preach to their congregants. I have good friends who love me. Family who loves me. Neighbors who like me. I have a 16 year-old dog who my vet says is alive today only because I have given more time and money to her than any pet owner he has ever met. 

I have even been invited to lead a worship service at a local church in the spring. 

Am I really going to hell because I oppose the words of a pastor who calls my gay friends "criminal" and "mentally ill?" Am I going to hell because I support and love my transgender students? Am I going to hell because I stand against a pastor who supports a President who makes fun of the disabled, brags about sexual assault, attacks military veterans and Gold Star families, and lies with impunity?

Does this man really believe that the Jesus depicted in the New Testament would send someone like me to hell? I've read The Bible cover to cover three times, and I can't see the Jesus who I know from that book suggesting that I belong in hell.   

This is the problem with the Internet. People are emboldened to say things that they might never say in person. They type words that might never come from their mouths, feeling like digital distance protects them from judgment. They often become the worst versions of themselves.

Whenever I write something online, I ask myself, "Would I say this in real life?" Admittedly, I tend to say things that others might not, but I like to think that the thoughts, ideas, and opinions that i express online are the same as those I speak in real life.

I don't think enough people ask themselves this question. 

I'm not a bad person. Certainly not evil. If there is a hell, I am fairly confident that I will not be going there. 

I'm also fairly confident that if I had the opportunity to spend an afternoon with this man, we would find more commonality than difference. More to like than to hate. More reason to be friends than to be enemies. 

I like to think that if he knew me, he might change his mind about my eternal damnation.

Vin Scully's boycott of the NFL is stupid

In response to football players kneeling during the national anthem, Vin Scully has announced tat he will not watch the NFL ever again. 

His comments:

"I have only one personal thought, really. And I am so disappointed. And I used to love, during the fall and winter, to watch the NFL on Sunday. And it's not that I'm some great patriot. I was in the Navy for a year -- didn't go anywhere, didn't do anything. But I have overwhelming respect and admiration for anyone who puts on a uniform and goes to war. So the only thing I can do in my little way is not to preach. I will never watch another NFL game."

Questions:

Does Scully not know that the players who are kneeling are protesting police brutality and racism in the criminal justice system and not the flag or our servicemen and women?

Has he not heard that thousands of military veterans have openly supported the players' First Amendment right to kneel, arguing that this is exactly what they fought and risked their lives for? Some have even taken a knee in solidarity with the players. 

Has no one told Scully that at least one Major League Baseball player also kneeled in protest this past season? Is he done with baseball, too? 

Has he forgotten that he is a wealthy, white man who grew up in a segregated America, attended a prep school, and has no clue about what it's like to be an African American in America today? He can't begin to imagine what it's like to be an African American man during a routine traffic stop or what it's like to be locked up for a crime while your white counterpart goes free. 

Could someone please clue this old, white guy into the stupidity of his boycott, please? I've always liked and admired Scully, but this nonsense is seriously tarnishing his image.

Porn in a McDonald's line

I was standing in line at a McDonald's inside Bradley International Airport on Friday afternoon, minding my own business, hoping to grab a bite to eat before boarding my flight. 

Then I noticed the phone in the hand of the woman standing in front of me, 

She was watching porn on her phone, earbuds jammed into her ears. I looked closer, thinking that perhaps this was simply a sex scene from a standard Hollywood film, but no.

This was pornography.

No question about it.

I found this both disturbing and impressive. 

Disturbing the carelessness way in which she was flashing her porn to the world, but also impressive in her brazen, unadulterated, dare I say courageous willingness to be herself regardless of the judgement of others. 

This was a woman who did what she wanted, regardless of societal norms and mores. 

My hope is that she at least scanned the area for children, nuns, and Mike Pence before turning her porn on, but once the coast was clear, I fully support her decision to watch whatever the hell she wants on her handheld device. 

It's not something I'd do, and it's not something I'd want a friend traveling with me to do, but as long as you're not harming anyone, be yourself. Do your thing. Be the person you want to be, even if the people around you would choose a decidedly different path.

That is the bravest and truest way to live.

Daylight Saving should be celebrated (or eliminated)

Daylight saving time should be eliminated. It's one of those things that we continue to do because we've always done it, but it's an asinine policy. 

But as long as we're going to keep Daylight Saving Time intact, could we at least allow the time change to happen when it can be appreciated and enjoyed?

I was awake in a hotel room in Kansas City at 1:59 AM on Saturday night, so I watched the clock kick back to 1:00 AM, but most people were asleep and couldn't take advantage of the extra hour.

Why not turn the clock back at noon? Just imagine:

You've just finished Sunday brunch, and as the clock is about to strike noon, it kicks back to 11:00. 

Time for second breakfast!

When I was younger, my best friend, Bengi, and I would always host a party on the evening of Daylight Saving because it meant an extra hour to party. To reinforce this idea, we set our clocks back at 6:00 PM so when people entered the house, they were already operating on tomorrow's time.

We understood the value of celebrating the extra hour instead of allowing it to tick by unnoticed.  

But short of this workaround. Daylight Saving goes almost unnoticed unless you have babies or small children whose sleep schedules are now fouled up. 

Let's stupidly, archaically shift our clocks back at a time that would at least give rise to a little joy. In a world where everyone is constantly whining about never having enough time (but doing little or nothing to eliminate that problem), an extra hour every year would be cause for celebration. 

Damn fine answer, Yasmin.

My kind of kid. I wish she were in my class. 

Bill Murray was wrong. Groundhog Day is AMAZING.

I had a Groundhog-like Day dream last night. The same day repeated again and again.

It was a more precarious and intense day than Bill Murray's character experiences in the classic film, but the premise was otherwise the same:

The same day, in the same town, again and again. No matter what happened during that day, I started the day over every morning in the same place, in the same condition as when I started. 

Here is what I learned:

Bill Murray's character was crazy to want to escape this day. An eternal, consequence-free existence of endless possibilities was amazing.

Perhaps after a century or two, the novelty of this existence would begin to wear off, but a solid 100-200 years, the endless possibilities and consequence-free lifestyle is something I would take in a heartbeat.

Universe?     

I accidentally assaulted my son in a public restroom

I took Charlie to the restroom in Bertucci's last night. 

Charlie is five years-old and has started using urinals when they are positioned low enough for him to reach. He's quite proud of himself.

He still drops his pants to his ankles when he uses one, so the pride is a little unfounded, but I'll eventually fix that. 

Since Charlie has become so self sufficient, my job when taking him to the restroom is to simply stand by and ensure that hands are washed when the job is done.

I was standing by last night when I heard Charlie flush. A second later, he cried out. I looked, and he was pressing his hands to his groin. I instantly understood what had happened. 

He has caught his penis in the zipper of his pants. 

I ran to him, dropped to my knees,  and began trying to undo the button and zipper on his pants. As I reach down, he pushed me away with his shoulder. Elbowed me. Turned his back. Yelled, "Stop it! Stop it! Leave my penis alone!"

Just imagine what might've happened had someone walked into the restroom at that moment.

"Charlie," I said, finally getting a hold of him. I unbuttoned his pants and yanked down the zipper. "Relax. I'm trying to help." 

"Then why are you pulling my pants down?" shoving me away again. "I pinched my finger on the flusher,"

"Oh."

He hadn't been grabbing his groin. He was simply holding his pinched finger close to this body in pain.

"Can I pull my pants up?" he asked. "This is not okay."

I apologized, but he still wasn't very happy with me. "I want to see Mommy," he said as he washed his hand. Then he walked out while I was still washing my hands.. Didn't say a word. 

I really don't blame him. 

Peruvian beauty pageant contestants steal a moment

Contestants competing in the Miss Peru 2018 beauty pageant were supposed to take the stage and recite their body measurements for the judges and the audience.

Why this still happens is beyond me. 

Beauty pageants of all kinds are sad, disgusting vestiges of a sexist, patriarchal world that saw women as objects of beauty rather than people of equal or better worth. They are the kind of thing that a man like Donald Trump would own.

But just imagine having to parade in front of judges and an audience and announce your measurements like you're a piece of meat. It's as if they are trying to make the beauty pageant as disgusting as possible.  

However, in this instance, these women ignored this ridiculous, demeaning requirement and instead took the opportunity to highlight a statistic related to violence against women in Peru.

"My name is Karen Cueto, and I represent Lima, and my figures are: 82 femicides and 156 attempted femicides this year."

"My name is Juana Acevedo, and my figures are: More than 70 percent of women in our country are the victims of street harassment." 

Watch the video. It's an inspiring moment. 

I wish that the Miss Peru contest didn't exist. I wish the female contestants would boycott the pageant altogether. I wish advertisers would refuse to support the pageant and audiences would refuse to watch. I yearn for the day when we look upon beauty pageants in the same way we look at a time in American when women weren't allowed to vote:

Archaic, ridiculous, sexist, and demeaning to women.  

But if these pageants must exist, I can't imagine a better way for women to take back a small part of it for their own purposes. 

Resolution Update: October 2017

PERSONAL HEALTH

1. Don’t die.

Still breathing. 

2. Lose 20 pounds.

Two more ponds lost in October, bringing total weight loss to 11 pounds. Another nine pounds in two months during the holidays will be tough.  

3. Do at least 100 push-ups and 100 sit-ups five days a week.

Done.   

Someone recently doubted that I am still doing these exercises as often as this goal requires, but that person is obviously a jackass with self-esteem issues. 

4. Practice yoga at least three days a week for at least 15 minutes each day.

I participated in a full week of yoga while teaching at Kripalu back in August. It was incredibly boring.

I have done nothing since.  

5. Take the stairs whenever I am ascending or descending five flights or less.

Done. 

WRITING CAREER

6. Complete my sixth novel before the end of 2017.

Work continues in earnest. The book was due last month month. I'm closing in on the finish line.   

7. Complete my first middle grade/YA novel.

Work continues in earnest. Due date is December.  

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

I'm still working on a non-fiction picture book about the great Idaho beaver airlift of 1948.

I also pitched a series of picture books to my agent. She liked them. Eventually.

I've also begun a picture book about primitive life before cellphones.

9. Complete a book on storytelling.

DONE! We have entered the copyediting portion of the process.  

10. Write a new screenplay.

No progress. This is looking unlikely. 

11. Write a musical.

DONE!

I was not able to watch the debut performance of "Back in the Day" but I hear it went really well. 

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

I have submitted one piece to the Times so far in 2017. No luck. Also, I suck in terms of this goal.  

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

Note-taking completed. My proposal will need to include some sample chapters, so that process has begun. Slowly.  

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

No progress.

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

On the suggestion of a reader:

I spent April praying to God at least once a day. Quite often three or more times per day. As you may know, I'm a reluctant atheist, so I hadn't prayed in a very long time. 

I'll be writing about the experience on my blog this month, which I've been saying every month. 

In October, I followed James Altucher's suggestion about turning the water ice cold for the last few seconds of your shower. It sounds crazy, but science suggests it really might make you more productive for the rest of the day. 

I'll be writing about the results of this experiment later this month.

One to go... Suggestions?

16. Increase my author newsletter subscriber base to 1,600.

I grew my list by just 14 subscribers (my second lowest monthly increase so far) in October (and 256 overall this year). Total subscribers now stands at 1540.

I'm cutting this one close. I need to find 60 subscribers in two months. 

If you would like to subscribe to my newsletter and receive writing and storytelling tips, Internet recommendations, recordings of new stories, and more, you can do so here:

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17. Write at least six letters to my father.

Five written so far. 

18. Convert Greetings Little One into a book.

No progress. I am willing to hire someone to take the content of the blog and convert it to book format, but I have yet to find that person. 

Recommendations?

19. Record one thing learned every day in 2017.

DONE!

My favorite thing learned in August is this:

The German word kummerspeck means excess weight gained from emotional overeating. Literally, grief bacon.

STORYTELLING

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

DONE!

We produced a show at Infinity Hall in Hartford, bringing our total number of Speak Up events in 2017 to 15. 

21. Deliver a TED Talk.

DONE!

I spoke about the important things that teachers do at The Pomfret School in April.

I've pitched talks to two other TED events. One has rejected my pitch. I still await the other.  

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

DONE!

I attended Moth StorySLAMs in October at Housing Works in NYC and Oberon in Cambridge, MA, bringing my yearly total of Moth events to 17. My name was not drawn at Housing Works, and I placed second at Oberon. 

23. Win at least three Moth StorySLAMs.

DONE!

I won two Moth StorySLAMs in Boston and two in New York in 2017. My win total now stands at 32.

24. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

I was unavailable to compete in the Moth GrandSLAM in my three chances in 2017.

Hoping for one more shot before the end of the year.

25. Produce at least 50 episodes of my new podcast Live Better.

I pulled down my first episode after receiving feedback from a friend who works in radio. I'm currently re-recording with a slightly different format.

That same friend has agreed to build me a template for the show. Obviously 50 episodes will be impossible this year, but if I successfully re-launch the podcast, I will be satisfied. 

26. Perform stand up at least once in 2017. 

I attended the open mic at Sea Tea Comedy Theater in August, not realizing how many comics regularly perform during these open mic nights. Elysha and I arrived about an hour late, and there were 19 comics already on the list. I will return on November 20 and perform to complete this goal. 

27. Write a one-person show.

DONE!

The "writing" for this show is complete. I performed the show at Kripalu, altered slightly so I could teach lessons between stories. 

I'll begin the process of booking a theater for a formal performance now.  

NEW PROJECTS

28. Explore the option of teaching a college class.

I met with a professor from a local college and described my proposed class. She approved of my idea and promised to pass the information onto her department head.    

This isn't enough, of course. I need to speak to a department head or higher myself. 

29. Cook at least 12 good meals (averaging one per month) in 2017.

A friend has passed on ideas and recipes for meals that I plan to make. So far I have done nothing.

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

The search for a location continues, though I am getting frustrated by the lack of forward momentum. 

MISCELLANEOUS

31. I will stand in vocal opposition to every negative comment made about age disparities between male and female romantic couplings because I choose to respect a woman’s choices of romantic partner regardless of their age or the age of their partner.

Nothing to stand against in October. 

32. I will report on the content of speech during every locker room experience via social media in 2017.   

DONE! 

Over the course of the month, I heard no man bragging about sexually assaulting women in any locker rooms (or anywhere else for that matter). This included the locker room at my gym and a locker room at a golf club.  

33. I will stop presenting the heteronormative mother-and-father paradigm as the default parental paradigm when speaking to my children and my students.

DONE!

Not as hard as I thought. I switched over to "parents" in January and haven't slipped yet.     

34. 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 learned that at least seven other people have adopted this policy, which thrills me.    

35. Surprise Elysha at least six times in 2017.

I "surprised" Elysha with a new washing machine in October, which is to say I was in the process of buying us a new washing machine when she decided to start the process herself. So I told her, "Surprise! I'm already doing it." Then she promptly took over the process. 

Five surprises so far in 2017. 

36. 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.

Our windows were cleaned by professionals, but this does not count. 

37. Optimize our television for a streaming service. 

DONE!

Apple TV is alive and well in our home, thanks to Elysha. 

38. Set a new personal best in golf.

Not even close in September, even though I am definitely getting better.

39. Play poker at least six times in 2016.

THREE poker games in October, bringing this goal into reach! 

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

Four days spent working as DJ's at weddings in total.

I invited him to attend another Moth StorySLAM and a Patriots game in October. 

He declined.   

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

DONE!

Is God now here, or is God nowhere?

This church sign in Newton, MA is fascinating. What did you see when you saw it? 

Presumably the intent was, "God is now here."

But if you're me, I saw "God is nowhere."

Spacing is everything. 

But maybe I'm being too presumptuous. Perhaps the minister or sign attendant or even the congregation took a long, hard look across the American landscape and thought, "What has happened to our country?"

A serial adulterer who bragged about sexual assault, attacked Gold Star families, publicly disgraced veterans, failed to keep his promise to release his tax returns, operated a fake university that stole millions from American citizens, and has spent more than 25% of his days in office on a golf course is now President of the United States.  A billionaire's wife who never set foot in a public school is Secretary of Education.A billionaire who spent his career suing the Environmental Protection Agency is now running (and dismantling) the EPA.A millionaire who campaigned on the desire to eliminate the Department of Energy (and did not know it regulated the nuclear power industry) is now running the Department of Energy. 

Maybe whoever is responsible for this sign assessed the state of our country and decided that God is nowhere to be seen. 

Or perhaps this is a signal of an existential crisis. The minister or groundkeeper is doubting God's existence. Maybe the person responsible for the sign is like me:

 A non-believer who wishes he could believe in a higher power.

Maybe not the vengeful, wrathful, violent God of The Bible who sent 42 boys to death at the hands of two bears after they insulted a Hebrew prophet's hairline (2 Kings 2:23-25), but a kinder, gentler God who is less prone to pointing large, angry mammals at disrespectful children.  

I would like that kinder, gentler version God to be somewhere.