Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 30

Dry January is boring

Dry January is nearly over.

Thank goodness.

I’m not opposed to abstaining from alcohol. I’ve been doing so for the last 30 years. Other than an occasional champagne toast, I stopped drinking a long time ago simply because it lacked any appeal for me, and I knew that avoiding alcohol was a healthier way to live.

I’ve been in the midst of Dry January for at least the last 360 months.

But here’s what I haven’t been doing for the last 30 years:

Endlessly talking, bemoaning, bragging, explaining, and otherwise turning my near abstinence from alcohol into a regular, sometimes daily topic of conversation.

Do Dry January if you’d like. I think it’s fantastic that you’re not drinking. In fact, I’d encourage you to do Dry February, too, and maybe Dry March, April, May, and June as well. A friend of mine recently stopped drinking entirely and told me that even though he didn’t drink a lot, eliminating alcohol from his life has made him feel substantially healthier.

And this was a casual drinker in excellent physical shape.

Just imagine what abstinence could do for someone who drinks often and suffers from any number of problems associated with alcohol consumption.

So yes to Dry January! I think it’s weird to stop drinking for 8 percent of the year because it’s a healthier choice and then spend the remaining 92% of the year undoing the benefits of Dry January by returning to your original level of alcohol consumption. Still, I guess that making your body happy for one-twelfth of the year is better than none.

Just please stop telling me about it. Please stop filling my airspace with your meaningless spouting of words related to not drinking alcohol.

It’s boring. It’s repetitive. It’s self-indulgent. It’s catastrophically unoriginal.

Also, as Dry January comes to an end, I really do encourage you to march on, avoiding alcohol altogether or consuming it in much smaller quantities. Despite silly studies that have suggested that a glass of red wine every day is good for your heart, the research is conclusive:

Any amount of regular alcohol consumption has serious negative impacts on your body, including increased risk of cardiovascular disease,  liver and kidney disease, immune deficiency, and cancer.

Let’s also be clear that alcohol is not an effective means of relaxation. It creates a temporary feeling of relaxation because of it:

Slows brain activity, making you feel calm.Lowers inhibitions and may reduce stress temporarily.Increases levels of GABA (a calming neurotransmitter).

However, these effects are temporary and only mimic the feelings of relaxation. Consuming alcohol to achieve relaxation is actually harmful to your ability to feel relaxed long-term by:

Increasing anxiety and stress later via “rebound anxiety” as alcohol wears off.Disrupting sleep by lowering overall sleep quality, making you more tired and irritable.Altering brain chemistry, worsening depression and anxiety over time.

All of you people who keep telling me that they’ll be far more relaxed in February once you can return to alcohol are sadly mistaken.

Also, please stop talking about that, too. It’s also boring.

If you want to relax, far more effective ways include exercise, meditation, listening to music, being in nature, spending time with a pet, and laughing.

These strategies are healthy, long-term means of actually reducing stress and relaxing.

So maybe try one or more of those strategies in February and keep the alcohol on the shelf for another month.

If you do, congratulations.

But please, don’t make it a regular topic of conversation.

Do it BECAUSE other people aren’t doing it

When someone says that you or your organization shouldn’t do something because no one else is doing it, seriously consider:

Shouldn’t we be doing it BECAUSE others aren’t doing it?

Isn’t that often the best reason to do something?

Haven’t the most successful people on the planet succeeded by doing their own thing?
Going against the grain?
Blazing a new trail?

Yet again and again, “I shouldn’t do it” or “We shouldn’t do it” because “No one else is doing it” is the driving factor behind so many decisions being made today. Small-minded, frightened, and deeply unoriginal leaders choose to follow the paths of those around them instead of daring to be different.

I see it all the time in my work with businesses and education.

Businesses stick to the playbook. Remain in their lane. Do what has always been done. Mirror their competitors.

In education, leaders choose the path of least resistance. Reject the notion of risk. Do what’s most convenient for the system rather than the student. Betray their beliefs and principles to avoid rocking the boat.

It makes me crazy. In both business and education, I protest and plead for leaders to do what is right, regardless of how those decisions may cause you to stray from the pack and

But the decision to regress to the mean, seek conformity, and shelter in the safety of the herd is so often a foolish, cowardly, and fruitless way to live.

So often in life, the best decision is the one no one else is making.
The best strategy is the one no one else is using.
The best way to live is unlike everyone else.

We should do things because others aren’t doing them.

We should do things because others are too afraid, lazy, or weak to blaze a new trail.

We should do things because others lack the creativity, vision, and wherewithal to do it themselves.

We should do things because others are too focused on the potential for disapproval, scorn, and criticism.

We need to eat that nonsense for breakfast.

When someone tells you that you can’t do something because no one else is doing it, consider that your clarion call. Think of it as your opportunity to distinguish yourself, make a name for yourself, make a difference in this world, and possibly pull ahead of the pack.

Before you agree, think long and hard about taking that road less traveled or, better yet, never traveled before.

That is often the path to greatness.

Sweet sixteen

Clara turned 16 years old this weekend.

On Saturday night, eight of her friends came over to celebrate with pizza, cake, a movie, and a lot of talking, laughing, screaming, spontaneous singing, and more.

It was a joy to see.

Most interesting to me was this:

About half the girls came from Clara’s school. She met another at summer day camp a few years ago. She met another at her current overnight summer camp. At least three didn’t know the other girls when they arrived.

It was a collection of teenagers—not all connected at the start of the party and so different from one another in many ways. Yet, almost instantly, they were talking, laughing, and making everyone feel included, accepted, and appreciated.

In the four hours they spent in our home, not a single unkind word was spoken—no sarcasm, disagreement, or protest.

It was nothing but happiness, silliness, and joy.

After she finished opening her presents, her friends spontaneously surrounded her in an enormous group hug.

It’s all you want for your child — to be loved by the people around her.

You hope your child performs well in school, and Clara is doing well.

You hope your child follows the rules and laws that govern our world, and Clara does this perhaps a little too much for my liking.

But most of all, you hope your child finds friends who love and care for them and accept them for exactly who they are.

Clara has done this beautifully, cultivating friendships with an eclectic group of kind, hilarious, supportive, and brilliant people.

Clara received many gifts on her birthday, but for me watching her celebrate with her friends was the best gift of all.

Move forward with an open mind. Also, “Moana 2” sucks.

Disney began developing “Moana 2” as a miniseries for Disney+ in 2020.

During the animation process, the filmmakers were so impressed with the footage that they decided to make it a full-length movie.

This turned out to be a momentous decision.

“Moana 2” hit a significant milestone over the weekend, earning $1.009 billion globally. It went from just another streaming video to a billion-dollar payday for Disney.

As a Disney shareholder, I am pleased with this decision.

As a creator, it’s a lesson I teach people often:

We can never know how people will receive the things that we make. Whether you’re a writer, chef, glass blower, or wallpaper designer, it’s impossible to know what might be a hit and what will be a dud. But we must continue moving forward, making things, and like Disney, not become too attached to our original vision,

An author’s latest novel might be more successfully presented as a play.

A chef’s attempt at the greatest chicken francese ever might be better received as a chicken sandwich.

A glassblower’s vase might be better utilized as a water decanter.

Your most recent wallpaper design might be worth more as the illustration on a kid’s lunchbox.

When you’re willing to be flexible with your original vision, magic can sometimes happen.

JK Rowling initially intended “Harry Potter” as a simple children’s book series but instead created an expansive, detailed wizarding world that became a cultural phenomenon for all ages.

Alexander Graham Bell initially designed the telephone to help deaf people, but ultimately revolutionized global communication.

Thomas Edison intended the phonograph as a dictation device, but it became a music playback and entertainment tool.

Spencer Silver invented Post-it Notes as a failed strong adhesive but was later repurposed by Arthur Fry as a low-stick, reusable note product.

Levi Strauss Originally designed denim jeans as durable workwear for miners, which became an everyday fashion staple.

Instagram started as a location-based check-in app called Burbn before being rebranded as a photo-sharing platform.

And speaking of wallpaper:

Play-Doh was originally invented as a wallpaper cleaner but was rebranded as a children’s toy when its potential for creativity was discovered.

Also, bubble wrap was initially created as textured wallpaper but found its true purpose as protective packaging material.

Magic happens when we keep our momentum moving forward and our minds open to opportunity.

“Moana 2” is a terrible movie. A few weeks ago, I took the kids to see it with Elysha and a friend, and my friend tried to leave halfway through because she hated it so much.

I stopped her from leaving by telling her that Clara and Charlie would be disappointed if she left, so she continued to suffer alongside me.

Misery loves company.

But someone at Disney was wise enough to recognize that this terrible movie — absent any sensible plot, character development, or a single good song — would appeal to children who loved the first — as I did — and couldn’t help but love the sequel, even if it made no damn sense.

Progresso Soup Drops: More than meets the eye

General Mills’ Progresso brand is rolling out a hard candy that tastes like its soups in a limited-time offering:

Progresso Soup Drops:

Lozenges that possess the flavor of chicken noodle soup.

Available online for $2.49 every Thursday and packaged inside cans of Progresso soup while supplies last.

The appeal — according to Progresso — is “soup you can suck on.”

According to the press release, the candy contains the tastes of broth, savory vegetables, chicken, egg noodles, and parsley.

I know. It sounds horrible. No one asked for this.

And the product has been laughed at by internet critics, late-night hosts, foodies, news outlets, and even some sales and marketing experts.

But here’s the thing:

When was the last time Progresso was in the news? When was the last time the brand name “Progresso ” was spoken on television by the likes of Stephen Colbert and Jimmy Fallon? When was the last time USA Today, Fast Company, and major metropolitan newspapers wrote about Progresso soup?

When was the last time Progresso was in the zeitgeist?

There’s a reason why Progresso has produced this product as a limited-time offering:

It’s not about the product. It’s about the attention Progresso is receiving by releasing the product. It’s about the number of media impressions, the branding, the online chatter, and the free press this product has created.

And it’s working. Just try to purchase Progresso Soup Drops on Thursday on their dedicated website.

Last week, they sold out in less than five minutes.

Google Trends shows that since launching this product, mentions of “Progresso Soup” online have quintupled.

People may ultimately laugh at this product launch and even despise the product itself, but I am almost certain Progresso soup sales will spike due to the brand awareness these drops generate. And if their Soup Drops are being sold for a profit—and they almost certainly are—Progresso has essentially created a marketing campaign that pays for itself.

Maybe even turn a profit.

Companies do dumb things every day. Sometimes, a company’s management team can act in ways that seem nonsensical and foolish.

But sometimes, their seeming stupidity is genius in disguise.

Thank goodness for great writers

I love great writers. Folks who can assemble sentences to produce clarity, concision, and the desperate desire to read the next sentence bring joy to my life.

As an author of six novels and three nonfiction books, I try like hell to emulate the work of the greats and hope to someday come close.

Even better than a great writer is a great writer who writes about me.

Aaron Derr is one such writer. Aaron wrote a piece on the completion of my Eagle Scout project last year — more than 30 years after I first started it. I’ve had many journalists write about me over the years. More than a decade ago, a lengthy feature about me ran on the front page of the Sunday edition of the Hartford Courant.

I bought a lot of newspapers that day.

Many of these pieces about me have been excellent.

Some have been fine.

Quite a few have contained wild inaccuracies and sloppy sentences.

But the piece that Aaron has written about my Eagle project made my heart soar. Not only did he brilliantly capture the essence of the day, the purpose of my project, and my feelings about it, but he did so in sentences that sing.

I did not mentally re-write a single sentence as I read. I did not question a punctuation decision or word choice.

I loved every bit of it.

It’s an exceptionally written piece about something that means a great deal to me.

I am so grateful.

Great writers really do make the world a slightly more joyous place.

You can read Aaron Derr’s piece here.

Mistakes are valuable

Football coaching legend Nick Saban said:

 “Negative experiences without teaching kills morale.”

Yes. Absolutely. Could not agree more.

I tell my students — multiple times per day — that mistakes are valuable.

But they are only valuable if we learn from our mistakes. Mistakes only hurt us if we continue to repeat them absent any growth or improvement.

So often, this valuable learning only comes through teaching. It comes from having the right teacher, boss, or leader who is present, capable, and willing to convert that negative experience into something meaningful, fruitful, and long-lasting.

As a leader, you are either driven by process or output.

Performance or numbers.

Rewlationships or transactions.

You’re either building a team or building a bottom line.

Many of the leaders I work with — including leaders in some of the largest companies in the world — are obsessed with building a highly effective team. It is their core mission to find the right people, train them well, and motivate and support them.

They see this as the best means of driving profits and growth for their company.

I find this incredibly inspiring.

I suspect, however, that leaders who are looking to improve their ability to communicate effectively, tell better stories, and connect and motivate through what they say and write — the goals of most of my clients — are probably those also predisposed to building great teams.

I likely attract good human beings:

People driven by performance, looking to build effective processes, and seeking stronger relationships.

This is probably a case of self-selection bias:

I only work with the best people.

Either way, it’s a joy to see.

It only took me 53 years to learn this.

Did you know that…

Chip is a nickname for a guy named after his dad.

“Chip off the old block.”

Skip is a nickname for a guy named after his grandfather.

Skipped one generation.

Trip is a nickname for a guy named after his dad AND grandfather.

“Tri” is a prefix for “three.”

This isn’t always the case, of course. I’m sure there are some Chips, Skips, and Trips wandering the Earth for whom these rules don’t apply, but damn… it only took me 53 years to learn this.

The world is filled with interesting corners yet to be discovered.

Zuckerberg’s fragility on display

The supplication of Facebook’s Mark Zuckerberg has been both transparent, disappointing, and pathetic — a desperate attempt to gain the good graces of Donald Trump.

He’s not alone. Immensely wealthy people — mostly men — are now bending the knee to Trump in an attempt to protect their vast fortunes and curry future favor with the administration.

Last week, Zuckerberg posted a video on Instagram explaining Facebook’s new policies, which essentially signaled to Trump that he —  like many of his wealthy counterparts — was in his pocket.

But here is what I found most interesting about the video:

Zuckerberg is wearing a $900,000 watch in the video

Almost a million dollars is prominently strapped to his wrist as he awkwardly talks about Facebook’s new policies.

The world knows that Mark Zuckerberg is a billionaire many times over. They know the story of his rise to power well. Yet he still needs to display a $900,000 clock on his body to demonstrate his wealth.

I find this astounding.

And yes, I understand that prices and dollar amounts differ for a man worth over $200 billion.

Two hundred billion equals 200,000 million, so $900,000 is a fairly insignificant amount to someone like Zuckerberg.

But some things in this world stop improving regardless of how much time, effort, and money you invest in an object. A watch, for example, which only tells time, can only be adorned with so many precious gems and be only so technologically advanced before the amount of money you spend is nothing more than a signal of wealth.

In this case, Zuckerberg is wearing a Greubel Forsey Hand Made 1. It reportedly requires 6,000 hours to construct by hand, and only two or three are made each year. It’s not encrusted with any precious stones or any next-generation technology.

It simply tells time.

Its price is derived entirely from its exclusivity.

Wearing it tells others that you own something that almost no one else on the planet can own.

This is only one of a multitude of similar watches that Zuckerberg has recently begun wearing, amounting to tens of millions of dollars of timepieces on his wrist.

But in each case, Zucjerber’s watches do nothing more than keep time. No diamonds, rubies, or kryptonite.  They don’t connect to the internet, confer superpowers upon the owner, or grant wishes. They are precious because they are rare and purchased by wealthy peers who also want to display their wealth on their bodies.

All of this reminds me — and slightly astounds me:

A lot of money does not make you a confident, happy person.

Great business success does not always equate to great self-esteem and a sense of self-worth.

Enormous power does not make a small, fragile person feel any better about themselves.

Ostentatious displays of wealth almost always signal the desperate desire for attention, acclaim, and acknowledgment.

We see this with Donald Trump every day. His relentless attempts to compliment himself, praise himself, lie about himself, demonstrate his wealth, and demand praise from others are like a beacon of his sadness, fragility, and lack of self-esteem.

The examples abound,

Trump commissioned the design and printing of fake Time magazine covers featuring his face, which he displayed in his country clubs and pretended were real.

Trump wrote to and called journalists pretending to be his own spokesperson — using the aliases John Barron and John Miller — to brag about his success in business and with women.

Trump stole $60,000 in charitable donations from his own foundation to purchase a portrait of himself for his home. As a result, he can no longer operate a charity in New York State.

Trump has repeatedly lied about the height of his buildings. He’s pressured Forbes magazine to rank him higher on their billionaire lists, inflating his wealth by providing fraudulent figures. He has repeatedly claimed to make large charitable donations that records later showed did not exist.

On September 11, 2001, during a phone interview with a local news station, Donald Trump said:

“40 Wall Street actually was the second-tallest building in downtown Manhattan, and it was actually, before the World Trade Center, was the tallest. And then, when they built the World Trade Center, it became known as the second-tallest. And now it’s the tallest.”

The depths of his desperation, sadness, and fragility know no bounds. It’s astounding that so many Americans chose to vote for a man who is clearly lacking in self-esteem and self-worth.

Zuckerberg’s newfound displays of wealth don’t come close to Trump’s pathetic failings for attention — Trump wears watches similar to Zuckerberg’s — but Zuckerberg is clearly signaling wealth and power by displaying these items on his wrist. A man who once wore tee shirts and hoodies almost exclusively is now wearing a $900,000 watch while arguing for the democratization of Facebook.

He’s both tone-deaf and desperately seeking attention and acclaim, unaware of how fragile and weak he looks in the process.

Underwear problem solved!

I’m golfing in Orlando with friends this weekend.

I flew from Connecticut on Friday night and arrived after well after midnight. When I finally made it to the condo and unpacked, I discovered I had forgotten to pack underwear.

I had one clean pair because I always have an emergency pair of underwear and socks in my backpack — as should you — but one pair would not make it through Monday night.

So I opened my Amazon app, ordered a four-pack of the same underwear that I wear every day, and entered the address of the condo where we’re staying.

It was 1:13 AM when I closed the app and went to bed.

Ten hours later, I was on the golf course. I had just hit my sixth ball into the water when I realized I would need more balls to survive the weekend. I could purchase them at the pro shop at inflated prices, but instead, I opened the Amazon app again between shots and added a box of my favorite golf balls to my order.

Four hours later, I was back in the condo, watching a football game with my friends, when I received a message on my phone:

Underwear and golf balls have arrived.

Problem solved.

I’d rather not forget to pack underwear, and hitting a dozen golf balls into the multitude of ponds that dotted the golf course was no fun, but solving some problems has gotten decidedly easier these days.

Being the last to arrive in Orlando, I also got the last choice of bedrooms.

Also not great. It’s actually a little bizarre, and sadly, there’s nothing an app or the internet can do to fix it.

[image error]