Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 358

The tragedy of the philtrum: Join me in elevating it to its proper status in the American lexicon.

The philtrum is the space on your face between your nose and your mouth. It’s that vertical groove that drops from the nose and to the lips. It’s the place where hipsters grow mustaches and noses drip in the winter.

You probably didn’t know this. Or if you did, you recognized the word but probably couldn’t have retrieved it from your memory banks without prompting. Correct?

The software that I am using to write this post doesn’t even recognize philtrum as a real word.

Think about that:

We can identify every other spot on our face. Mouth, nose, chin, cheeks, nostrils, lips, forehead, temples, eyes, eyebrows, hairline, jowls. But the spot on our face that is arguably smack dab in its center is forgotten. Ignored. Unknown.

The philtrum is the He Who Should Not Be Named part of our body, and yet it’s out in the open every day, looked upon by every person to whom we speak.

The philtrum, people. It’s been left out of the American lexicon far too long.

Why is this? Have our teachers failed us? Have our parents left the philtrum out of the conversation for a reason? Is there an anti- philtrum conspiracy that seeks to keep this central part of the body hidden in the shadows?

Is this the result of secret philtrum shame?

The philtrum. You probably touch it one hundred times a day, yet most of us have never used the word in our lives. We have probably said the words vagina and penis ten thousand times for every one utterance of the word philtrum.

The philtrum. Let us ignore it no longer. If you are as passionate about the philtrum as I am – and I can’t imagine any reason why you might not be – go forth today and spread the news of its name like you might spread the news that your child has been born.

Let the philtrum be your baby. Shout its heretofore unknown name from the rooftops of the world.

Or at least just tell a few people what it’s called, so we can end the plague of philtrum ignorance.

Business Insider lists 9 unfair advantages that help people get ahead. I’ve benefited from 5. Physical attractiveness is not one of them.

Business Insider published a list of 9 unfair advantages that help people get ahead.

I have benefited from five of them, though I would argue that some are not as clear as others, and there are a couple missing from the list.

1. A need for little sleep: While it’s true that I sleep less than most people, I also am quick to point out that I maximize my sleep as well, whereas many people waste time and do a terrible job sleeping.

3. The inclination for optimism: While I have been called a curmudgeon on many occasions (and fairly so), I am actually more inclined to optimism. I tend to focus on progress made. I believe that small steps yield enormous results. I say yes to every opportunity, regardless of how ill equipped I may be to follow through on the yes. I believe in my heart that things tend to turn out well over time if you set goals, apply yourself, and work like hell.

This sense of optimism is bolstered by my perspective. When you’ve been brought back to life via CPR twice, robbed at gunpoint, homeless, and been arrested and tried for a crime you didn’t commit, the problems that stymy so many people seem meager in comparison.

“If I’m not dead or in jail, and I have a roof over my head, things can’t be that bad.”

6. The ability to resist temptation: My ability to delay gratification is powerful. This week I replaced my 2002 rear projection behemoth of a television with a $200 hand-me-down flat screen. In the same week, I finally replaced my iPhone 4 with an iPhone 6. Both of these devices should’ve been replaced years ago, but both were still working fine, despite their lack of modern-day amenities, and I have never been a person who needs the latest or greatest of anything.

I am exceptionally patient.

Except when ice cream is involved. 

7. Charm: I denied possessing this unfair advantage, but in discussing this list with friends and family, it has been argued that I possess a nontraditional brand of charm that causes people to like me despite their natural instincts.

It’s true that I have many friends, but it’s also true that when you hate me, you really, really hate me. So I’m not sure.

I’m also not sure if this claim of a nontraditional brand of charm is simply an attempt at a backhanded compliment or a passive-aggressive insult.

9. The ability to selectively ignore people’s feelings: Business Insider explains that those who can ignore someone’s feelings when competing against them for a promotion or in a negotiation have a better chance of doing what is best for achieving their goal.

Unfortunately, I can be ruthless when it comes to competition, and I’m quite capable of ignoring someone’s feelings in order to win. It’s not my finest quality, but I can’t deny it.

I think this tendency is also an asset when dealing with my children and my students. There are times when consequences, struggle, and even suffering are critical to a young person’s growth, but all too often parents and teachers are unable to watch children struggle because of the anger and sadness that it engenders in the child.

It’s not easy to listen to your child “cry it out” as she is learning to sleep through the night, but I did it because I knew how important it was for my children to learn to be effective sleepers. It’s hard to impose a consequence on a student that you know how difficult it will be for him or her, but better to stand firm and teach the lesson than allowing a child to believe that this world is without consequences for his or her actions. 

My ability to ignore their feelings, at least to a degree, and rationalize the long term benefits over momentary relief has been helpful in this regard.

In case you didn’t read the Business Insider’s piece, the unfair advantages that I lack are nurturing parents, a photographic memory, physical attractiveness, and connections. My wife has argued that I have an excellent memory, but being able to remember events from your childhood is not the kind of memory that will get me ahead in life.

Two other advantages that I would add to the list (and that I also lack are):

Born into wealth
A successful family business

The first almost always allows a person to graduate from college debt free and with a certain amount of capital and security, and the second almost always guarantees a job if needed. Both provide a safety net that only people who have lived without a safety net from an early age can truly appreciate.

Another advantage that I would add to the list is:

Little concern for the what others – and especially strangers – think of you.

This is a quality that I possess in droves. While I would love for everyone in the world to adore me – and they really should – it’s my disregard for what others think about me that helps me to ignore the clutter that concerns so many people and find the time to excel.

This doesn’t mean that I don’t care if my readers enjoy my books. It doesn’t mean that I don’t want my students or my colleagues to respect me. It doesn’t mean that I don’t want my friends to love me.

It means that I’m able to go out into the world with the confidence that if I am being myself and believe in the decisions that I have made, I don’t care all that much about what others – and especially strangers – think of me. I don’t worry about the state or quality of my wardrobe or hair or car. I don’t spend time or effort trying to keep up with the Joneses. I’m not concerned about what audiences will think about me after I’ve told a mortifying story on stage as long as I’m speaking the truth.

I dare the world to like me for who I am.

This quality has certainly caused me trouble in the past, but more often than not, it has served me very well.   

My wife’s text message in the closing seconds of the Super Bowl said it all.

My wife and I watched the Super Bowl in separate locations last night.

One of my favorite moments of the night was the text that she sent after Malcolm Butler intercepted Russell Wilson’s pass to secure the Patriots’ victory.

I’m confused by what just happened but I know it was good.

Yes, honey. It was good indeed.

One of the best nights of my life

My wife, Elysha, and I were eating dinner in a pizza joint with friends last night. My friend and I were quoting Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. I have no idea why, but we were.

“You chose… wisely,” I said, quoting the Grail Knight near the end of the film after Indy chooses the real Holy Grail.

No,” my wife said. “You have chosen… wisely.”

That’s right. My wife corrected my quoting of an Indiana Jones movie.

I have chosen wisely. I clearly married the greatest woman of all time.

____________________________

As if that wasn’t enough, my wife then reaffirmed her assertion that if she were pregnant and in labor with our first child, and I was scheduled to play in the Super Bowl at that very same moment, she would expect me to play in the game and miss the birth of my child.

____________________________

To cap off the evening, another friend said, “Actually, I read something this week that I liked a lot… Oh, you wrote it!”

That’s right. My friend was about to quote me back to me.

____________________________

Maybe not the greatest night ever. My wedding night was pretty amazing, and there have been other nights equally memorable, but this one was pretty damn good.

How to come off as an insecure douchebag

A good rule of thumb:

When I tell you how impressed I am with a mutual friend or colleague, and you respond by:

Telling me why I shouldn’t be impressed
Talking about yourself
Telling me why I should be impressed with you

… then you come off as an insecure douchebag. Which you probably are.

Is this something only I experience, or is this a tragically common occurrence?

Ugly people unite! Sometimes beauty can only be found in numbers.

Starlings aren’t the most beautiful bird in the world. At least not on their own.

But put them in an enormous flock and they become one of the most beautiful and remarkable sights in nature.

It’s your booger.

I was wrestling with my two year-old son. He was climbing all over me. Squeezing my face. Tickling me. Standing on my chest. Throwing himself onto my head. Then he stopped. Frowned. Pointed at my chest.

“Ew,” he said. “Yucky! What dat?”

I looked. I saw. “That’s your booger, Charlie. Your giant booger on my sweater,” I said. “Not mine. Yours.”

“Yucky,” he said, as if it was my fault. “Throw booger away, Daddy!”

In moments like this, I remind myself that he has never peed on my once while I was changing his diaper.

Small stuff, but it matters a lot.

Resolution update: January 2015

PERSONAL HEALTH

1. Don’t die.

Done! So far…

2. Lose 20 pounds.

I have gained two pounds in 2015, which means I need to lose 22 pounds in 2015. Well done, Matt.  

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

Done. I added a plank every morning as well.

4. Stop drinking soda from two-liter bottles.

I drank soda from two-liter bottles on two occasions in January:

My wife’s not-a-surprise party (thanks to a friend’s stupidity)
A bottle purchased for my mother-in-law and left in the refrigerator

The results of this goal have already been extraordinary. First, I’m drinking an enormous amount of water in place of the soda. Also, I’m finding myself drinking less soda at work and in other locations as well.

My soda intake has already been cut at least in half.  

5. Practice yoga at least five days a week.

My shoulder injury is healed enough to resume yoga, though I may need a refresher course from my instructor. It’s been five weeks since I last practiced, and I can barely remember the routine. But I have a yoga mat now. That’s something.

6. Learn to cook three good meals for my wife.

No progress

WRITING CAREER

7. Complete my sixth novel before the end of the summer 2015.

The book remains about half finished. I’m polishing a memoir before I return to it.

8. Complete my seventh novel.

The book remains about half finished as well.

9. Sell one children’s book to a publisher.

I have three written and ready to go. I had two new ideas that I liked a lot heading into 2015, and this month, I added a third that Elysha likes best of all. I’ll be working on them in 2015. We will submit a book to editors at some point soon.

10. Sell a memoir to a publisher.

The memoir is written and is being polished now.

11. Sell a book of essays to a publisher.

The book is in the hands of editors now. We should know if it will sell sometime next month. You can keep your fingers crossed for me.

12. Complete a book proposal for a book on storytelling.

The outline of the book is nearly complete. I’ll need to write some sample chapters and do all the other tedious jobs that go into developing a proposal, but progress is being made, and I’m excited.

13. Write a new screenplay.

I’m still revising my first screenplay based upon film agent’s notes. To be honest, I’m stuck on the solution to a problem in the story.

No progress on the new one.  

14. Write 50 pages of a new memoir about the years of 1991-1993.

I have 25 badly written pages for this memoir that must be transformed into 50 good pages in 2015. No progress yet.

15. Write a musical for a summer camp

I’ve written about 5,000 words so far and deleted about 4,700. I haven’t been able to lock in tone or voice yet. My partner has written three songs, so as usual, he is waiting on me. 

16. Publish at least one Op-Ed in a physical newspaper.

I published a piece in the Huffington Post this week. This, however, is not a physical paper.

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

No progress.

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

I have created a list of ideas for this resolution now.

My first idea: Backing into a parking spot. I rightfully assume that anyone backing into a parking spot is a lunatic of the highest order. I shall spend a week backing into parking spots and see what wisdom I can glean.

I have not begun this experiment yet.

19. Build an author mailing list.

Major progress made! I actually went to the MailChimp website, learned how to manage my subscriptions and send email, and sent my first author email to my list of about 900 people. I’d been gathering email addresses for more than two years and had never done anything with them, so the first step was to invite anyone who didn’t  want to be on my list to unsubscribe. Between unsubscribers and dead email addresses, I lost about 200 people

My list is now lean, mean, and ready for next month’s email.

Now I must find ways to increase subscribers and provide compelling content to keep them engaged.    

20. Build a new website for matthewdicks.com

I paid a consultant to discuss the redesign of my website and other aspects of my author platform, and it went well. While I would love to continue to manage my website through WordPress, I’m leaning toward migrating things over to SquareSpace, which has a considerably lower learning curve. But I’m hemming and hawing on this. Any thoughts?

STORYTELLING

21. Produce a total of eight Speak Up storytelling events.

No shows produced in January. We have two shows scheduled in February and recently formalized a partnership with the Connecticut Historical Society that will bring two shows to their venue in 2015.

22. Deliver my fourth TED Talk.

I will be delivering a TED Talk at Boston University in April.

23. Build a webs ite for Speak Up.

Same hemming and hawing about my author website has held this up as well.

24. Attend at least 10 Moth events with the intention of telling a story.

I attended a Moth StorySLAM at Housing Works in NYC in January. 

25. Win at least two Moth StorySLAMs.

I came in third in the most recent Moth StorySLAM after having my name drawn first from the hat. First sucks. I have won from first position once in my life, but that was in Boston, so it doesn’t really count. I’ve never seen anyone else win from first position, though I have heard that it has happened before.

I don’t believe it.   

26. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

I compete in my first GrandSLAM of 2015 next month.

27. Launch at least one podcast.

We have decided to cross over to the dark side and purchase an Apple computer in order to make this process as simple as possible (and make the recording of Speak Up shows easier as well). We await the arrival of this machine. My website redesign must also be completed in order for this to begin.  

NEW PROJECTS

28. Pitch at least three new projects to five smart people.

I pitches one of my projects to one person in January, who had some great suggestions for me to move forward.

29. Host at least one Shakespeare Circle.

Nothing scheduled yet.

MISCELLANEOUS

30. Enroll in the final class needed for certification as a high school English teacher.

No progress. 

31. Set a new personal best in golf.

Two feet of snow is hindering the pursuit of this goal. It is not stopping my friend from sending me photos from the golf course in Florida.

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

Done

Speak Up is two years old! It began with a snow day and a simple question to my wife.

Speak Up, the storytelling organization that my wife and I founded in 2013, is approaching it’s two year anniversary. It was born on a snow day much like the one we experienced in the northeast earlier this week. 

My storytelling career began about five years ago with the discovery of The Moth’s podcast. A friend introduced it to me, and soon after, other friends began telling me that I should go to New York and tell a story. I’ve led a life filled with unusual moments and unfortunate disasters, so my friends thought The Moth would be perfect for me.

But taking the stage in New York and telling a story to 300 strangers was daunting to say the least. Frankly, I was afraid. So I assured my friends that I would go to a Moth StorySLAM someday but had no intention of ever doing so.

Then I had the idea of starting my own storytelling organization here in Hartford. I thought that telling stories in front of a handful of friends and family would be less intimidating than 300 hipster strangers in lower Manhattan. I was excited about this idea. I thought it could be something that Elysha and I did together. 

Then I didn’t do that, either.

Eventually, I couldn’t look myself in the mirror. As daunting as it might be, I hated the idea of saying that I would do something and then not doing it. I resolved to go to New York, tell a story, and be done with it.  

On a hot July evening in 2011, Elysha and I went to New York. Packed into the Nuyorican Poets Café with 200 New Yorkers, I dropped my name in The Moth’s tote bag (always referred to as “the hat”), and began my storytelling career.

In truth, I dropped my name into the bag and immediately began praying that I wouldn’t be called. Putting my name into the hat at a Moth StorySLAM was good enough, I told myself. I tried. I could go home with my head held high.

And I thought my prayers were about to be answered. Nine storytellers had taken the stage, and my name had yet to be called. One more name would be drawn, and I would escape from New York unscathed.

Host Dan Kennedy opened the sheet of paper, stared intently at it for a moment, and then called my name. Except I didn’t write my name clearly, so he mispronounced it. I didn’t move. If I sat very still, I thought, maybe they would pull another name, and I wouldn’t have to get up.

Then Elysha kicked me under the table. “That’s you,” she said. “Go!”  

I did. I took the stage and told my story. Dan Kennedy took a photo from the stage that night. This was my view as I told my story:

You can actually see me in this photograph. Left side near the wall. Black shirt. White graphic. Only guy with his hands not raised. Looking terrified.

This is the story that I told:

 

When the final scores were tallied, it was revealed that I had somehow won. 

Two years later, after in February 2013, I was home with Elysha. It was a snowing outside and school had been cancelled. We were sitting at the dining room table, pounding away on our laptops. Since that first night in July, I had competed in eight more StorySLAMs. I had three more wins under my belt. I was in the midst of a streak of six wins in a row and 11 our of 14. I had competed in two Moth GrandSLAMS. I had delivered two TED Talks and told stories for Literary Death Match and The Story Collider.

The Moth had changed my life. I felt like a real storyteller. A good storyteller. I was ready for a new challenge.

I looked up from my laptop. Looked across the table at Elysha and said, “You know, we should do that storytelling idea in Connecticut. Right?”

“Yeah,” she said. “We should.”

A friend had mentioned that Real Art Ways might be the perfect spot for a show, so on a whim, I called. I spoke to Will Wilkins, Real Art Ways’ Executive Director. “Well, it’s snowing today,” he said. “No one’s here. Why don’t you come down now?”

I did. About an hour later, Speak Up (still without a name or any storytellers save myself) was born. Will had given us the date for our first show and suggested that we find a name for our organization as soon as possible. Good advice. That would come about a week later on a ride home from Elysha’s parents house. While brainstorming ideas, I said, “How about using an imperative. A command. Something like Speak Up?”

“That’s it,” Elysha said. “Speak Up.”

We had found our name. 

Our first show, in April of 2013, featured eight storytellers. All friends who we knew could tell a good story. We didn’t listen to their stories beforehand or work with storytellers back then (and thus had two stories about trips to Greece told back-to-back), so every story was as much of a surprise to us as the audience. That was fun. We’ve since learned that it makes for a better show when we take the time to listen to our storytellers’ stories and help them with their fine tuning. We’ve learned a lot in the three years that I have been telling stories, so we share this wisdom with our storytellers before they take the stage. 

When we arrived at Real Art Ways that night, the woman in charge asked us how many chairs to put out.

“Well, we have about eight storytellers,” Elysha said. “And they will all probably bring a guest. And we might get a few more people might come. So maybe 40?”

The woman laughed. “We’ll put out 90.”

Good thing she did. We had a standing room only crowd of about 125 people that first night, and we have been selling out shows ever since. There were about 250 people at our last show, and I didn’t know most of them. In those early days, our audiences were primarily our friends. Now some of our most devoted fans are people who I have never actually met.

We’ve produced 12 shows in the two years that we have been running Speak Up. We have established partnerships with The Mount in Lenox, Massachusetts, Kingswood Oxford School in West Hartford, and just this week, The Connecticut Historical Society. Speak Up will be featured at this year’s Connecticut Storytelling Festival. We run workshops for people who are interested in telling stories, and I have taught classes on storytelling in libraries, high schools, colleges, and universities, including most recently Perdue University and The University of Connecticut Law School.     

       

I had no idea that all of this would happen when I peeked over my laptop and said to Elysha that “we should do that storytelling thing in Connecticut.” But our lives have changed completely and forever because of it.

It’s a good reminder that the best way to start something is to start something. Think less. Move fast. Figure things out along the way. And find a good partner.

I meet far too many people with big dreams and grand ambitions who spend too much time worrying about how to make them happen instead of making them happen.

Move. Create forward momentum. Take a risk.

Elsa just wants to blow me.

It was bedtime. Clara and I were fighting over her new Elsa doll. I argued that Elsa wanted to be my friend and hang out with me tonight. Clara said that Elsa hated me, which wasn’t nice.

She grabbed Elsa from my hands, held her up in front of me, and then leaned in and blew air into my face.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Elsa’s icy breath,” she said.

What? Is Elsa trying to freeze me?”

“No, but she doesn’t want to sleep with you tonight. She just wants to blow you.”

Sadly, I was the only adult in the room at that moment.