Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 268

Trump makes my head hurt

From yesterday's Press conference in France, Trump managed to

(a) make a false claim
(b) admit it may be false, then
(c) continue on as if it were true.

You can't make this stuff up.

Someone remind my children that I pay the mortgage

Even though my kids don't currently contribute to the mortgage, they seem to believe that they possess more control over the house than they actually do.

Recent signs in my home have indicted that the first floor bathroom is now Tickle Monster Jail and a new sign on my daughter's bedroom door (co-written by her sleepover buddy) apparently gives access to the room to our two cats only.

I'll be informing her that she can't have this level of control unless she's planning to hand me some cash every month.   

Though I have to admit that Clara's writing - in all its backwards lettering, misspelling, and crayon smudges - is completely precious.

I can't stand the thought of the day when it becomes more conventional. 

Republican men decide that women can't wear sleeveless dresses because they are apparently afraid of lady shoulders

In an apparent effort to establish "appropriate business attire," House of Representatives under Speaker Paul Ryan is enforcing a dress code in the Speaker's Lobby—a space adjacent to the front of the House chamber—that bans women from showing their shoulders.

Several female reporters have already been kicked out of the lobby for wearing sleeveless dresses.  

Yesterday Republican Congressperson Martha McSally, a former fighter pilot and the first woman in American history to fly into combat, ended her speech in the well of Congress by saying, “Before I yield back, I want to point out, I’m standing here in my professional attire, which happens to be a sleeveless dress and open-toed shoes. With that, Mr. Speaker, I yield back.” 

Some (mostly stupid white men) complained that with all the problems facing America today, dress codes should not be a priority.

But here is the thing:

Paul Ryan and his male dominated Republican caucus have decided to enforce this arbitrary dress code. Republicans like Ryan have also demonstrated an obsession with policing women's bodies, and this policing is highly relevant to many of their GOP positions. These are positions that impact economic policy, healthcare, civil rights, and the criminal justice system.

When a man in power has creepy ideas about what women should be wearing and the freedoms they should be permitted to enjoy, it has far reaching consequences. 

Yes, it's a dress code, but it represents a whole lot more, and in the battle for women to have control of their bodies and their destinies, not one inch should ever be surrendered. 

Donald Trump has blocked me on Twitter

After almost a year of tweeting at Donald Trump, he finally blocked me from access to his Twitter feed yesterday. 

This is mostly bad news.

Admittedly, it has become a badge of honor to get blocked by Trump. Since he has stated unequivocally that he is the only person with access to his personal Twitter account - a statement which appears to be true based upon many of his incredibly offensive and legally damaging tweets - getting blocked means that Trump has at least read your tweets, and they have managed to penetrate his remarkably thin skin.

That is a good thing.

I also join the ranks of folks like writers Stephen King and Bess Kalb, political activists, civic organizers, actors, athletes, organizations like VoteVets (which represents 500,000 veterans and their families) and Andy Signore, creator of the Honest Trailers series on YouTube.    

Joining that group is quite an honor. 

But this is where the good ends. In truth, I was disappointed - upset, even - to discover that I had been blocked. Over the course of the last year, I was tweeting at Donald Trump regularly in response to many of the things he wrote. His supporters (and perhaps Trump himself) would refer to me as a troll, but in truth, I was tweeting at Trump because it amused me. It made me happy to spend a few minutes a day giving him a piece of my mind. It felt good to speak truth to power. I took great pleasure in the knowledge that Trump reads his Twitter feed, and that perhaps there were days when my words might have penetrated the White House bubble.

Apparently they did. 

My tweets have been getting a lot of attention by the thousands of people who hate-follow Trump (and many of his supporters, too). Many of my tweets were receiving hundreds and thousands of likes and retweets. Apparently enough was enough, and the thin skinned, petulant, would-be child King decided to silence me. 

This doesn't mean I can't see his tweets. There are work-arounds to gain access to his Twitter feed, including a new Twitter account, the use of a different Web browser, the use of Google's Incognito mode, and more, but it's going to be clunky, time consuming, and no matter what I do, @MatthewDicks, the Twitter account that represents me, can no longer comment on what Trump tweets.

There is a lawsuit making its way through the courts on behalf of blocked users, arguing that since Trump has stated that his personal account represents the "official statements of the President," it is a violation of my First Amendment rights to be denied access to his feed.

This makes sense to me. Americans have a right to access official statements from our government officials. I'll be following it closely.  

I still have access to his @POTUS Twitter account, but he rarely uses this account and is clearly not the one tweeting from it. The material is inoffensive and benign. 

Not exactly Trump's way of communicating.

Mostly, I'm just sad that the few joyful minutes I spent each day, speaking truth to power and retorting Trump's offensive, racist, misogynistic statements and blatant lies, have now been denied to me.  

People like Mitch McConnell, Paul Ryan, Sean Spicer, Steve Bannon, Mike Pence, Kellyanne Conway, and even Donald Tump Jr. are all worthy targets of my Twitter scorn, but none will be nearly as fun as that large, white bag of lies, ignorance, and indiscretion.  

Let us hope that the courts decide in my favor and the First Amendment wins the day.  

Fill your life with young people

Yesterday I mentioned that someone on Facebook recently asked his friends when they knew that they were old.

It was an annoying answer, I know, but I responded by saying that I still feel young.

As young as I felt 20 years ago. Truly.

I wrote yesterday about the importance of aggressively trying new things whenever possible as a means of always feeling young.  

It's hard to feel old when life never gets old.

I suspect that I also feel young because I am constantly surrounded by younger people. As a teacher, my life is filled with kids who are decades younger than me, but because we spend so much time together and become so close, those decades always seem to melt away. Kids who are just 10 and 11 begin to understand me better than some of my own friends, and I feel the same about them.

Later on, when these kids grow up, many come back. They babysit my children. Attend my storytelling shows. Visit the classroom. Become genuine friends. 

This week I'm teaching storytelling at Miss Porter's, an all girls school in Connecticut. I'm working with girls ages 11-15, and I have a staff of juniors, seniors, and college students working with me as well. 

I'm spending my days telling stories. Listening to their stories. Teaching. Laughing. Walking around campus together. Eating meals together. I'm a 45 year-old man sitting at a table with 19 and 20 year-old women, but except for the occasional reference that I make that soars over their heads, I honestly don't feel much older than them.

We're working together. Doing the same job. Trying to make the same difference in the lives of these girls. 

And it's not only through teaching that I stay in contact with young people. Last week at The Moth, I spent the evening with my twenty-something friend. Met his girlfriend. Hung out with some of his other friends, all younger than me.   

Keeping young people in your life is important.

I suspect that the reverse does not apply in this case. These younger people whose company I enjoy likely see me as older than they are. Much older in many cases.

I know this.

They know my life story. They know how long I have been teaching. They are aware of my writing career.  They understand the long journey I have taken to get to this place. They see the bits of gray hair and know that I was alive before the Internet even existed.   

I'm quite certain that the decades don't melt away as easily for them as they do for me.

But that's okay. It doesn't matter. When I spend time in the company of people who are one or two or three decades younger than me, those decades really do melt away for me. Before long, I see them as fellow human beings, occupying a space in my life like any other person, regardless of age.

It's a beautiful thing when you feel as close to a 10 year-old boy or a 20 year-old woman as you do to your 45 year-old friends. 

Recently, I played golf with three friends who are about my age. We had a great time together, but throughout the day, there were the occasional groans associated with getting older. Painful joints. Tired muscles. Expanding waist lines. Laments about a time when they could hit the ball farther and straighter.

I have no problems with the groans. I try to avoid them myself, and on that day, I honestly felt none of them. I play golf more often than these friends, so perhaps my body was better prepared for the rigors of the game.

I've also never hit the ball that far to begin with.

But I tried to imagine how I might feel if I was constantly in the company of friends and colleagues who lamented their advancing ages. Groaned about muscles and joints. 

I think I might start to feel old, too.

But it turns out that children and teens and even people in their 20's and 30's don't lament their age. They don't groan about their ailments.

This is a good thing.         

If you want to feel young, find a way to spend time in the company of people younger than yourself. 

What are you doing that scares you?

Next month I'll be performing stand-up for the first time. 

I'm terrified. 

I tell stories. Many of them are funny, but they don't have to be funny. If an audience doesn't laugh at something that was meant to be funny in one of my stories, I'm still telling a story, which is my real job. I can't get away with a failed bit of humor.

Stand up, on the other hand, requires humor. You're expected to be funny. 

A friend asked me to try stand up with him a few months ago. I said no, but then changed my answer to yes after reminding myself that I don't say no.

I also think that doing new and scary things is extremely important in life. 

Someone on Facebook recently asked when his friends knew that they were old. It was an annoying answer, I know, but I responded by saying that I still feel young. There are a few reasons behind this feeling, I think, but an important one is my aggressive attempt to try new things whenever possible.

This year it's stand up. I'm also writing for new magazines, writing my first nonfiction book, and writing my first middle grade novel. I'm also launching a new podcast, changing my golf swing, and trying my hand at some picture books and a less-than-conventional novel.

Last month, I conducted my first marriage ceremony that included storytelling. I told a lengthy story about the couple after interviewing them and finding something that I could turn into a captivating, enlightening story about their lives together.

It wasn't an easy thing to do, and I was nervous. Probably the most nervous I have felt speaking to an audience in a while. In the end, it went very well. The story got lots of laughs and lots of tears. I thought it was a crazy request on the bride and groom's part, but it went over beautifully. Two other couples from that wedding have already inquired about me conducting their ceremony. 

New, intimidating, and frightening things. I look for these things. I seek them out. Then I force myself to take the plunge.

You should, too. 

It's hard to feel old when life never gets old. 

Sharing your vacation photos is lovely, but how about some wisdom and insight to go along with it?

On Thursday night I had one of those nights at a Moth StorySLAM where two sets of judges thought I did quite well and awarded me high scores, but the third judging team disagreed severely (earning a rarely heard chorus of boos from the audience), thus ruining my chances at winning.

Always frustrating.

I've been fortunate enough to win 30 Moth StorySLAMs, but winning a slam never gets old.

As I was leaving, a fellow storyteller stopped me. He told me that something that I had written about a month ago about the power of incremental progress has really made a difference in his approach to life. He was sincere, thankful, and sweet. 

It almost made up for the frustrating night with the judges. Almost.

But here's what I thought as I walked to my car:

When I wrote that post on incremental progress, I didn't think it would have any real impact on anyone. I write these things as much for myself - as sort of a personal mantra - as I do with the hope that someone might benefit from the tiny bits of wisdom that I've gleaned over the years.

I send my thoughts, ideas, and experiences into the world, through books, magazines, blog posts, social media, and live performances, and more often than you could ever imagine, something good and oftentimes surprising comes back.

Sometimes it's a day later. Sometimes it takes a month. There have been times when it's been five years later. It's pretty amazing. 

But I'm certainly not the only person who has gleaned a little wisdom over the course of his lifetime. Everyone has, I suspect. We all know things that have helped us to survive and succeed and thrive. Insight, ideas, strategies, personal experiences, and more. 

You should share your wisdom with the world. Truly. 

Create a blog. Post for Facebook. Write a book. Share your insight at the next dinner party.

We all know stuff that could help others. We've all learned lessons that are worth sharing. We all have ideas and insights worth sending into the world.

You never know when you can help to change a life. Truly. 

Sharing your vacation stories with the world is lovely. Baby pictures are always appreciated. Please don't stop sharing your foibles and faux-pas. You successes and failures. 

But every now and then, perhaps you could also share some wisdom, too. A life lesson. An understanding of this world that perhaps only you know. A strategy or insight that has helped you survive and thrive.

If you do this, good things will come back. I believe this, because I have experienced it in abundance.

It can turn a frustrating night at The Moth into a good one. It will bring unexpected joy to your heart. It might even create a memory that you will never forget. 

"They call me Matt."

"Light My Candle," a song in the Broadway show Rent, ends with Mimi introducing herself to Roger by singing, "They call me Mimi."

I've always loved this line. I've always wanted to introduce myself by saying, "They call me Matt."

Here's the thing:

I think it's a terrible idea. I don't think I could pull it off. I don't think I've ever been cool enough in my life to pull it off, so I've never tried.

This has probably been a very wise decision on my part.

Still... I really want to give it a shot someday. 

Rick Perry didn't understand the Department that he now runs, but he REALLY doesn't understand basic economic theory

Department of Energy Secretary Rick Perry was at a coal plant in West Virginia yesterday. He said this:

"Here’s a little economics lesson: supply and demand. You put the supply out there and the demand will follow."

Just so we're clear. THIS IS THE OPPOSITE OF HOW ECONOMICS WORKS. 

Supply does not produce demand, especially for a commodity like coal. DEMAND PRODUCED SUPPLY. 

He went on to say:

"Many times an increased supply increases prices, because the demand becomes so overwhelming. That's how demand works."

Just so we're clear. THIS IS ALSO OPPOSITE OF HOW ECONOMICS WORKS.

As supply increases, prices go down, especially for a commodity like coal.  

This is the same man who proposed the elimination of the Department of Energy during his Presidential run and only later found out that a huge chunk of the Department of Energy's $30 billion budget is dedicated to developing, maintaining, refurbishing and safely keep the nation's nuclear stockpile; combatting nuclear proliferation and maintaining and rebuilding nuclear production facilities. 

Armed with this newfound information (he thought the DOE was the champion of the gas and oil industry), Trump put him in charge of the department that he once thought should not exist.  

Sadly, Rick Perry also appears to believe in the Field of Dreams economic theory:

"If you build it..."

Tell this to New Coke. The Edsel. The Zune. Lifesaver's soda.  Ben-Gay's aspirin. 

All products that were produced in great supply, only to fail to find a demand. 

By Perry's logic, all I need to do is start knitting piles of polyester penis warmers, and customers will be lining up by the hundreds, cash in hand. 

Why do so many people in government have to be so dumb?

You have to admire a church willing to take this kind of literary stand

Also, I don't disagree.