Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 315

An important (and painful) lesson about the people closest to me and the things I write

One of my wife's friends told me yesterday that she reads this blog daily and feels like she has an oddly intimate relationship with me as a result.

Then she said that there have been times when she has told my wife that she loved something I wrote on my blog, only to discover that Elysha never read it.

Elysha acknowledged this to be true.  

Fear not, dear reader. Only a tiny part of me died at that moment. There's still plenty left of me for her to kill.

Later, while playing poker with friends and strangers, a guy sitting across the table (who I had just met) turned to my friend, pointed and me, and began whispering.

"What?" I asked, irritated. "What did I do?"

After a moment, he turned back to me, smiling, and said, "You're the Matthew Dicks? The writer? You wrote Something Missing? And the yellow book, too?"

"Yes," I said. "That's me."

It was a nice moment for me. It doesn't happen often. 

A moment later, a friend at the other end of the table chimed in:

"My kids actually read his books. I mean... I don't read them, but my kids do!"

Lesson of the day: 

The closer you are to me, the less likely you are to care about anything I have to say.

And I'm not going to lie. It hurts a little.

I may have to write mean things about my closest friends that they will never read.

An important corollary on the two greatest super powers of all time

Last week I wrote that the two greatest super powers of all time are immortality and time travel, with teleportation coming in a possible, albeit distant third.

I'd like to offer a corollary on this:

1. If you're not interested in living forever, then I am willing to acknowledge that immortality might not be the greatest super power for you. But you must also be willing to admit that until you actually face death, you might be wrong about your distaste for immortality.

As someone who has faced death three times (and actually died twice), I can assure you that immortality is appealing.

2. Time travel is better than teleportation or any other super power because of the ability to see into the future and warn humanity about (and perhaps even prevent) certain natural disasters and other calamities.

Alert authorities about the September 11 attacks in order to stop the terrorists and save lives.Issue evacuation warnings ahead of earthquakes, tidal waves and other natural disasters. Stop George Lucas from creating Jar Jar Binks.

It would be an enormous burden on the person with this super power, but morally and ethically speaking, how could you not acknowledge that this power is better than the ability to pop in and out of New York City without having to deal with traffic?   

3. There was some concern over the dangers of traveling into the past and catastrophically altering the future in which the time traveler lives (and possibly threatening his or her very existence in the process). There were also concerns over the potential for paradoxes.

While traveling into the past would be appealing, concern over these issues could be mitigated by simply traveling into the future only, and only traveling for observational purposes. A time traveler need only to travel to a library and spend some time reading newspapers or history books in order to find the information he or she needs while risking almost nothing in terms of unintentionally changing the course of human events 

If you're not convinced now, I don't know what to do.

When I watch children's television, I ask questions about fictional funding (or the lack thereof)

My kids are currently watching large amounts of the television show The Octonauts.

They also own many Octonauts toys.

I tend to avoid watching these shows with my kids, and when I do, I rarely pay much attention. I listen to podcast, work on stories in my head, and make excuses to leave. Despite my best efforts, I've become familiar enough with the show to understand the basic characters and plot. 

The Octonauts follows an underwater exploring crew made up of stylized anthropomorphic animals. This team of eight adventurers live in an undersea base, the Octopod, from where they go on undersea adventures with the help of a fleet of aquatic vehicles.

When I watch this show, I can only think of one thing:

Who is funding this organization? It must cost a fortune to maintain this fleet of aquatic vehicles and this enormous undersea base, not to mention the salaries of these undersea scientists, who seem to be on duty at all times. 

Is this a government sponsored endeavor or privately maintained?

The same goes for Paw Patrol. a show about A boy named Ryder leads a pack of talking dogs known as the PAW Patrol. They work together on rescue missions to protect the city of Adventure Bay. The Paw Patrol has an enormous home base, equipped with a variety of vehicles, all positioned to rescue the idiots in Adventure Bay who can't keep themselves out of trouble.

Who is funding this canine rescue team? Does the government of Adventure Bay have enough tax dollars to fund a police force and a team of canine rescue experts?

I know it's silly to be asking these questions about a show designed for little kids, but I also don't want me daughter to think that these people can act with economic impunity. 

When is it too early to introduce the idea that all things - regardless of the good they may do - cost money?

A not-so-disappointing disappointing night at The Moth

It's always disappointing to drive almost three hours to a Moth StorySLAM and have your name remain in the hat for the duration of the night. 

I went to The Moth StorySLAM at Housing Works in New York on Tuesday, and sadly, this happened, 

I had a good story, too.

Thankfully, it doesn't happen too often, though 2016 has been unlucky for me so far.

Despite my disappointment, The Moth rarely disappoints. 

Even though I didn't have the chance to take the stage on Tuesday night, there were moments that made the slam unforgettable for both me and the audience.

_______________________ 

Two people who began the careers in storytelling in one of my workshops in Connecticut (and then performed at Speak Up multiple times) dropped their names into the hat to tell a story, and one of them took the stage and performed. When a storyteller who has taken one of my workshops or performed on a Speak Up stage goes on to perform at The Moth, Elysha likes to refer to us as proud parents. 

She's not far off with her description.  

_______________________

I sat beside a woman who I had an ongoing conversation all night long about storytelling. It was her first time at The Moth and was thrilled beyond imagination about finally making it to the show after listening to the podcast and Radio Hour for so long. She knew who I was from my stories on the podcast and had many questions about how slams work, how The Moth operates, and how to craft a successful story. She was over the moon about seeing Dan Kennedy - host of the podcast and host of Tuesday night's slam - in the flesh. He is an A-level celebrity to many storytelling fans. 

I remember feeling the same way in 2011 when I finally made it to my first slam. It was a good reminder about how lucky I am to have found The Moth and its community of storytellers and storytelling fans. I shouldn't take any of it for granted. 

_______________________

If your name is not pulled from the hat, you're given the opportunity to take the stage and say the first line of your story. After doing so, I was approached by a woman who had heard one of my stories on the radio recently about the death of my high school girlfriend. She surprised me with an almost violent embrace and the story of the death of her college boyfriend. She told me how much my story still lives in her heart on a daily basis.

This might have been better than having my name pulled from the hat. Maybe.  

_______________________ 

I had the chance to chat with my fellow storytellers. We talked about recent stories that I had heard them tell at The Moth and other venues and some storytelling strategies. I offered some advice to a couple of storytellers, which is always odd for me. Coming from Connecticut and attending about one slam per month, I have always felt like a bit of an outsider in the storytelling community. I have friends who are storytellers, but I'm not exactly in their city or in their non-storytelling lives. And they are telling stories all the time. I couldn't imagine why such seasoned New York storytellers would want my advice on their stories or storytelling in general. 

It was good. A sign that perhaps I'm not the outsider that I imagine myself to be. 

I also lined up least two of them up for future Speak Up shows. Always good. 

Then I had the chance to hear three of them tell fantastic stories about a snowstorm in a theater, a highly unorthodox dance move, and a questionable orgasm.  

_______________________

I had the chance to watch Dan Kennedy host the show. I love all The Moth hosts dearly, but Dan is the one who seems to inhabit the same brain space as me. I always feel like I'm home when Dan is onstage.

_______________________

To cap off the evening, Moth regular David Arroyo took the stage and told a story about taking his girlfriend to meet his parents in Puerto Rico and then proposed to his girlfriend onstage. An unforgettable moment for everyone, to be sure. David and his girlfriend have been coming to slams together for more than year, so it seemed fitting that he propose to her on a Moth stage.  

My wife doesn't jump into the shower with me on a regular basis, but this thing about her parents is a close second.

I'd like for my wife to love the way I look. I would love for her to think of me as the best looking guy in every room every time.  

I'd love for her to think that I am smart. Funny. Clever. Strong. Capable. Resourceful.

It would be great if she thought of me as cool. 

I would love to imagine that she feels fortunate and lucky to have me in her life. Grateful for the things I have brought into her life.

I'd love for her to think of me as the best of fathers. 

This weekend I listened to Elysha talk to friends about the relationship that I have with her parents, Barbara and Gerry. The love they have for me. The way that each of them feels about me. The specific and special relationship that I have with each of them. The trust and admiration they have for me. The love that I feel for them. 

She spoke about my relationship with her parents with a fondness and an appreciation that I found surprisingly endearing and incredibly fulfilling.

It was a small moment at a dining room table in a home in Exeter, New Hampshire that I will never forget.

Don't get me wrong: I'd still love for her to see me standing in the shower naked and shout, "Damn!"

Maybe even jump into the shower with me, unable to contain herself. 

And maybe that happens on occasion.

It doesn't.

 But that parent thing was still pretty damn good.

Why I think professional wrestling is stupid

My friends who watch professional wrestling have long argued that watching a fake sporting event is no different than watching a fictional television show like Breaking Bad or Mad Men. 

And it's true. As long as they are willing to acknowledge that all professional wrestling is staged for the sake of the storylines being written behind the scenes. this argument seemed to make sense to me.

Logically, it passed muster. 

Still, I couldn't help but think that professional wrestling was stupid. More stupid than even the worst scripted television program. But I couldn't put my finger on exactly why.

At last I have found the reason. 

The difference between professional wrestling and a show like Breaking Bad is that Breaking Bad doesn't pretend to exist in our world. It is a clearly taking place in a fictionalized world, even if that world closely resembles our own. We know that the locations in the show do not exist as we see them on the screen. We know that the show is probably filmed in a place other than where the characters claim to be. Fans of the show don't drive to New Mexico hoping to see Walt and Jesse cooking up meth in the desert. There is no implication that the characters or settings or events in the television show are taking place in the world in which we live.

Professional wrestling is very different. It is a fake sport that exists in our real world. Wrestlers want you to think that they are real and that their sport is real. Wrestlers never break character, even after the match is long over. You can go to a professional wrestling match and watch these actors pretend to compete. If you're a fan, you'll likely cheer on your favorite wrestler. Stand up. Shout. Pump a fist or two. I would argue that it's also likely that many of the fans will unknowingly suspend their disbelief at times, cheering their favorite wrestlers as if the competition was real. Fans of wrestling treat an admittedly fake show as if it's real by playing a significant role in the staging of the match.

They are a part of the show.

Imagine if Breaking Bad was shot before a live studio audience. 

No one would be cheering their favorite character. No one would ever think of Walter White as a real person.

The camera would never pan over the studio audience. Even if it was a comedy that was clearly being filmed before a live studio audience - an audience you could hear laughing - the camera would never pan over that audience. The fourth wall would never be broken. 

That would be insane.

Seeing the studio audience would break the fictional world of the show. It would somehow bring the characters into our world and turn them into actors instead of the people who we know and love. 

This is the difference between watching a fictional television show and professional wrestling. 

Fictional television creates world in which its characters operate.

Professional wrestling uses our real world to stage fiction that is often misconstrued as real. 

This is why I this it's stupid. 

Also, it's inherently a fairly stupid form of entertainment. 

The two best super powers of all time (one of them is not teleportation)

My wife, Deadspin, and many others argue that teleportation is the greatest of all the super powers. 

Teleportation would be an amazing super power to possess. I would love to be able to teleport from location to location instantly.

I think it may be the third best super power.

But objectively, the best super powers, in this order, are:

ImmortalityTime travel

All others - including teleportation - pale in comparison.

Clara on Picasso

Clara, my seven year-old daughter, on Picasso:

““Charlie, why don’t you draw something like Pablo Picasso? He was an artist who lived a long time ago. Even before Mommy and Daddy were born! He drew pictures of people, but he sometimes made their heads triangle shapes or put two eyes on top on each other or a nose on the bottom and a mouth in the middle. He did strange things but they still looked great. So go ahead. Draw like Pablo Picasso. You can do it. If Pablo Picasso could do it, anyone can!””

When I was her age, I still couldn't cut with scissors.

And she actually knows a lot more about the famous artist. As she helped Charlie draw his picture, she continued to teach him about Picasso and his life. 

More than I think a three year-old boy cares to know.

The Perfect Comeback of Caroline Jacobs: The paperback cover

The paperback edition of The Perfect Comeback of Caroline Jacobs doesn't come out until March of 2017, but the new cover is ready. Let me know what you think!

My son, the storyteller. I had no idea.

My three year-old son made up a story about traveling to New York to visit his cousins Ari and Zoe. If you listen closely, it actually many of the all of the elements of an excellent story.

The story is concise. The story is simple,.It contains mystery and genuine surprise (critical for creating an emotional response in your listener) The story continually flips on itself. Instead of an "and then and then and then..." story, Charlie tells a "but and therefore" story, which is always better.  

He's a little young for The Moth, and he's still a little rough around the edges, but he's a hell of a lot closer to being an excellent storyteller than I ever expected.