Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 275

Things I Do #7: I cut corners

In my relentless, obsessive desire to get ahead and be productive, I purposely attempt to cut every corner in every hallway in order to shorten the distance between the two points and perhaps recapture a little lost time.

This is ridiculous, of course. Unless I am walking an endless array of hallways for hours and hours, the fractional seconds that I am saving by cutting these corners will never amount to anything.

Then again, over the course of a lifetime, they will add up. These fractions of a second, when combined over years and years, will result in a significant amount of time. Unfortunately, these fractions of a second can never be added up in any practical sense and used in one large chunk,  and therefore they will always remain as tiny, useless fragments.   

Still, I do it. And it feels right. And therein lies the crazy. 

My three greatest acts of storytelling cruelty

I like to think that I have been a supportive and positive force on the thousands of storytellers who I have performed alongside over the years, but I've also had moments when my judgment and disposition was less than ideal.

My three most despicable moments as a storyteller:

1. On Thursday night at Infinity Hall, as our first storyteller was being introduced by Elysha, I sat beside her behind the curtain and demanded that she start her first novel. "Write a sentence a day," I said. "And then make it a page a day. Write a page a day, and after a year, you'll have a novel."

"You're alway berating me for not accomplishing enough," she said. "It's never enough for you."

I started lecturing her on the importance of goal setting when I heard Elysha reaching the end of her introduction, and I realized that this woman is about to take the biggest stage in her life, and I spent the last minute before her performance hassling her. 

As she rose, I tried to tell her how impressed I am with everything that she does. Teacher. Storyteller. Mother. I don't think she heard a word as she stepped into the light. 

She performed brilliantly. Truly. She was vulnerable and hilarious and heartbreaking. She was beautiful.

But it wasn't any thanks to me.

2. During soundcheck at a Moth GrandSLAM in New York a couple years ago, a woman who was performing in the championship for the first time stepped away from the microphone, walked to the edge of the stage, sighed deeply, and said to me, "That was scary. This place is huge. And there isn't even anyone in the audience yet."

"Yeah," I said. "The real scary part is knowing that when it comes time to perform, you'll be standing out there on your own. Practically on an island. No one in the world able to help you. You're entirely alone, depending on yourself to survive, while hundreds of people stare into your soul."

At that point, I had competed in 18 GrandSLAMs and won four of them, so these championships were old hat for me. I was speaking the truth - unintentionally - but it was not a truth this woman needed to hear. I realized what I had done as soon as the words came out of my mouth. I gasped, apologized profusely, and assured her that she would be fine.

She also performed brilliantly. But no thanks to me.

3. At my most recent GrandSLAM championship earlier this year, I reached into the bag and drew the number 1, indicating that I would be telling my story first. This is a terrible position to tell a story. Very hard - if not impossible - to win. I've competed in 54 Moth StorySLAMs in the past six years, winning 29 of them, but only one of those wins came from first position. 

It's an unlucky draw. And it's a number I draw quite often. 

After drawing my number, I tossed it aside, stepped off the stage, and pouted like a little baby. I complained and groaned and huffed and puffed. I stalked the theater, muttering under my breath and acting like a petulant jerk.

After a few minutes, Elysha stepped over to me and whispered, "This is you're 20th GrandSLAM, Matt. For most of these people, it's their first. Maybe you could stop acting like a baby and just get ready to tell your story."

It's always good to have a spouse willing to speak the truth to you.  

Those storytellers didn't need to see someone like me pouting and whining. So many of them had already expressed their admiration and respect for me and my reputation as a storyteller and competitor.

How did I repay their kindness?

I acted like an ass. 

They all performed brilliantly that night, no thanks to me.

In fact, the winner of that GrandSLAM also performed on the Infinity Hall stage on Thursday night for us, and she was brilliant once again.

No thanks to me.

How to improve church attendance

A good movie trailer can pack a theater. Perhaps a good church sign can pack the pews. 

And perhaps I might not find myself in the position of reluctant atheist had I received encouragement like this to attend church on a regular basis. 

I may learn to bake if it's always this cute

Financial PTSD: The perfect description of a persistent affliction

I was listening to Troy Carter, music manager and CEO of Atom Factory, on the podcast How I Built This, when he said something that rang so true to me:

When asked if he worries about going broke again now that he's a successful founder and investor, he said, "When you grow up poor, you suffer financial PTSD. You always have that fear."

I get that. 

I am not nearly as successful or wealthy as Troy Carter, but I am also a long way from my days of being homeless and hungry. Realistically, there is little chance of me ending up on the streets again.

Yet I have never felt more than one or two two steps away from those streets despite my success. In my heart, I honestly believe that a bad break here or there, and I could end up living in my car again, hungry and cold, looking for a bright streetlight in a deserted parking lot to park my car for the night and try to sleep. 

It's not a realistic fear, but it's a very real fear nonetheless. 

I've always thought about this constant proximity to doom as the cliff.

The cliff is the place where you have nothing. No money. No home. No future. No hope. The cliff is the end of the line. The place were unbelievable misfortune and unknowing misstep have taken you against your will.

Springsteen understands the cliff. I imagine that many who survived it do.  

But as someone who also suffers from PTSD following a violent robbery and two near-death experiences, I think Carter's description of financial PTSD makes a lot of sense, too.

It's the perfect way to describe the fear of falling back into a previous life of poverty and despair. The nagging, persistent, endless shadow of a time when all seemed lost and the regret of a life wasted was inescapable. The constant need to gather and hold. Seize every opportunity in fear that it might be your last.  

It's the reason I rise every morning with relentless determination to move forward. Get ahead. Prosper. Out work and out perform every other person to ensure that I can keep a roof over my head and food in the refrigerator.

It's the reason why it all may never be enough.  

While I don't wish financial PTSD (or an understanding of the cliff) on anyone, it's always so good to hear someone speak of it - especially people as successful as Troy Carter and Bruce Springsteen - and feel a little less alone in your crazy, nonsensical mind.  

Fantastic or terrible?

I'm really not sure how to feel about the sign that I found on my daughter's door. 

Resolution update: April 2017

PERSONAL HEALTH

1. Don’t die.

I've got a sore elbow, but I don't think it's life threatening.  

2. Lose 20 pounds.

I lost one more pound in April bringing the total loss to ten pounds.

Still well ahead of schedule, thanks to consistent exercise, careful eating, and little time for lunch. 

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

Done.   

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

No progress.

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

Done. I took the elevator yesterday for a four flight climb, but I was with my daughter and running late for a birthday party. Otherwise it's all stairs, all the time. 

WRITING CAREER

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

Work continues in earnest. Due date in July.   

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. 

Many ideas, including two new nonfiction ideas that Elysha LOVES, but no progress as of yet. I have July deadlines that come first.  

9. Complete a book on storytelling.

Work continues in earnest. Due date in July.

10. Write a new screenplay.

No progress. 

11. Write a musical.

No progress.

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.  

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

I'm still taking notes as the school year progresses for an idea that I think might work, and I have several other ideas that I am expanding into paragraph summaries. Work on this will likely commence at the end of the school year. 

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. 

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

I grew my list by 21 subscribers in April (and 120 overall this year). Total subscribers now stands at 1,404. If I continue at this pace, I will exceed 1,600 by the end of the year. 

17. Write at least six letters to my father.

I received a letter from my father in February. I am still writing a response.    

18. Convert Greetings Little One into a book.

No progress. 

19. Record one thing learned every day in 2017.

Done! My favorite thing learned in March is this:

Tommy James had two number one hits over the course of his musical career: Crimson and Clover and Hanky Panky. In 1987, two of his other songs, Mony Mony and I Think We're Alone Now, were covered by Billy Idol and Tiffany respectively and hit number one in consecutive weeks.

STORYTELLING

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

We produced one show in April at the Unitarian Universalist Society in Manchester. .

This brings our total number of Speak Up shows in 2017 to seven.

21. Deliver a TED Talk.

Done! I spoke about the important things that teachers do at The Pomfret School in April. It went well! Hoping the producers recorded the talk well, and it will result in a quality video. 

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

I attended one Moth StorySLAM in New York in April, bringing my yearly total to five.   

23. Win at least three Moth StorySLAMs.

I won a Moth StorySLAM in Boston in March. 

I placed second at my April StorySLAM in NYC. 

24. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

It looks like my next opportunity to compete in a Moth GrandSLAM will be in July.  

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.

To be honest, my biggest problem is that I cannot find a moment of quiet in my home to record. 

26. Perform stand up at least once in 2016. 

A local stand up venue has invited me to perform. I'm getting my material ready. I plan to perform this summer. I will likely perform in New York with a friend as well.  

27. Write a one-person show.

The "writing" for this show is nearly complete. 

A local theater is interested in having me perform. I'll be meeting with the director in the summer. 

NEW PROJECTS

28. Explore the option of teaching a college class.

No progress.   

29. Cook at least 12 good meals (averaging one per month) in 2016.

No progress.

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

No progress.

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.

No opportunities to vocally oppose this unfortunate prejudice in April.    

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).  

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. No close calls in April. No desire at all to comment on physical appearance.

I'm adding my mother-in-law, father-in-law, and grandmother-in-law to my permitted list of people to whom can make comments about physical appearance.    

35. Surprise Elysha at least six times in 2016.

Two surprises so far in 2017.  

Flowers and a Cadbury Egg. 

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.

No progress. But it would be nice to replace the questionable screens in the bedroom so we could open them and not worry about the cats falling out. 

37. Optimize our television for a streaming service. 

We upgraded our cable television interface to a voice activated, much more intuitive system that may fit the requirements of a streaming service. This upgrade is tremendous. Credit Elysha for the upgrade as well as the reduction in our cable/Internet bill as well.  

38. Set a new personal best in golf.

No progress/ I've spent about two hours on the range. hitting the ball poorly with my new grip. I also played one round of golf with a friend. I had two pars and a birdie to end the round, but still not close to my personal best.   

39. Play poker at least six times in 2016.

No progress. I turned down two offers because I wasn't available.  

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

I invited him to go bowling with me, but he was on vacation. 

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

Done!

A strong opinion on the onion volcano

I'm just going to say it:

The onion volcano that a chef creates at a traditional hibachi restaurant is seriously overrated. 

Flammable oil poured into a stack of concentric onions rings and lit on fire?

Had I done something similar to this at Scout camp (and I did), I'd be holding fire buckets for at least an hour as punishment (and I was).

Do nearly the same thing in proximity to a dozen or so patrons at a hibachi restaurant, and everyone around the grill goes nearly orgasmic.  

Are we so starved for entertainment that we find flaming oil burning from the top of an onion cone something worth of our verbal exultations? 

I really don't think so. 

Desperately seeking trouble

Our new cat, Tobi, is desperate to find as much trouble as possible.

He routinely opens cabinets and climbs inside. I've found him under the sink, squeezed between the posts and pans, and amongst the plates and bowls. 

It's frustrating, but at least it's not dangerous. 

I can't say this about all the places I have found him. 

Bad day

Sometimes it seems as if the universe has conspired to assure you have a very bad day.