Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 388

A different kind of superhero

My daughter made her own mask from paper, tape, marker, and string. I’m not sure what she was going for, but I think she looks legitimately creepy when wearing t.

I asked her if she is a superhero when wearing the mask. Her response:

“Daddy, you know me. I’m just Clara. But that’s pretty great, too.”

Even better than a superhero.

Unless she could fly and stuff. That would be better, but still.   

Sister loves brother

I am certain that I was never as sweet to my siblings. Not even close.

I’m not sure if I was even nice to my siblings.

Thank goodness Elysha’s genes are in the mix.

   

I don’t love bathing my kids. Except I often do.

I am not a huge fan of bathing the kids. I don’t mind shampooing their hair, and I don’t mind scrubbing their feet, but once the actual work is done and the playing commences, I become much less interested in the bath.

Perhaps it’s because of the way my dictatorial daughter demands that I play with her bath toys, elevating her preferred princesses over my second-rate charlatans and placing their words in my mouth to repeat again and again. 

Or maybe it’s the way I am forced to sit on the floor at the base of the tub and get drenched with bathwater as we play.

Or maybe it’s the sheer frequency of the baths. When I was growing up, we took baths once a week. In accordance with my wife’s wishes, my children are bathed every other day or so.

Whatever the reason, bathing is one of those things that I know I will miss when my children are bathing themselves, but it’s also something I really don’t enjoy very much.

Until I see moments like this.

  

As a parent, I have discovered that as important as my happiness may be, my children’s happiness often supersedes my own, and their happiness almost always results in my happiness.

I know this sounds like a fairly obvious statement, but this was not something I understood or perhaps really believed until I had children.

Even the stupid bath, with its stupid toys, is pretty fantastic when my kids are enjoying themselves.

My annual list of my shortcomings and flaws is being written now. Suggestions welcomed.

In preparation for the fourth annual listing and publishing of my shortcomings and flaws, I invite you to write to me about any shortcomings or flaws that you think I should consider including on the list.

If you’re wondering why a person would create such a list and post it online, you can read about the origin of this tradition here. It may not surprise you to discover that the tradition began via a confrontation with a reader.

Also, if you’d like to look at last year’s list, which I will be reviewing to determine if any items can be removed, you can find that here. Suggestions of items to remove are also welcome, though that tends not to happen.

Thanks so much for the help.

Boy learns the alphabet on his own. Father takes credit.

So apparently the combination of the letters on the refrigerator and an amazing iPad app have taught my two year-old son to identify almost all of the capital and lower case letters of the alphabet.

While getting him ready for bed, he began randomly calling out the letters on a pillow in his room.

My wife couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it. We had no idea. We had done nothing to teach him his letters so far.

We didn’t even know that he was aware of the existence of letters. 

It turns out that Charlie can name every letter if we point to it, and he can locate every letter if we name it first.

The boy essentially learned the entire alphabet (and many of the sounds that the letters make) on his own.

We must be amazing parents.

Future Futurist. Actually, current futurist, looking for his first paycheck.

In the program for my most recent Moth GrandSLAM performance, my bio mentioned that I am a Lord of Sealand, which is true and garnered many comments from friends and audience members. It also mentioned that I am a teacher, writer, minister, life coach, professional public speaker, and wedding DJ.

I collect jobs.

In addition to those listed above, I’ve expressed interest in becoming a unaccredited sociologist, a stand-up comedian, a professional best man (five grooms and a reality show developer have tried to hire me for this position so far), a gravesite visitor, and a double date companion.

Today I find myself with a new career aspiration: Futurist.

A futurist is “a person who studies the future and makes predictions about it based on current trends.” Well known futurists in the United States include Ray Kurzweil, Alvin Toffler and Syd Mead.

I think I could do this. For a few reasons.

First, it doesn’t require accreditation of any kind.

Though the Association of Professional Futurists states that some futurists begin their careers by earning a graduate degree in futures studies, “many professionals become futurists by acquainting themselves with futures concepts, tools and methods, familiarizing themselves with the literature, apprenticing or collaborating with professional futurists, and participating in futures professional development, conferences, and organizations.”

I can do that. I can acquaint myself with future concepts and familiarize myself with literature. I could attend a futurist conference (if one was ever to come to town) and even join the Association of Professional Futurists if I wanted to spend the $150.

Second, and more importantly, no agency is currently responsible for keeping track of a futurist’s accuracy. A futurist could be batting well below the Mendoza line and no one would know it.

I have enough accountability in my life already. The idea of a profession which demands no accountability of any kind appeals to me greatly.

Best of all, I think I would be quite effective at predicting future trends, particularly because no one will be checking to see otherwise. 

With all this in mind, I officially declare myself a futurist. I’m adding it to my list of occupations. Squeezing it into my bio. Looking for someone who wants to hire me and turn this futurist into a professional futurist. 

Here are my first five predictions as a futurist:

Physical books are far from dead. In the next decade, physical books will experience a resurgence as people seek a greater balance between the digital and the physical.
Within ten years (and possibly sooner), the great majority of American politicians, both Republican and Democrat, will acknowledge the dangers of global warming and begin to act in concert to address this issue.
The growing concerns over concussions and their long-term effects will do nothing to deter the continued growth of the National Football League into the foreseeable future.
Movie studios will produce  in high quality, made-for-television movies within the next decade.
Portable, highly accurate universal translators will eliminate the language barrier to communication.

What were the three most important decisions of your life?

A recent Quora question asked, “What were the three most important decisions of your life?”

I’ve been debating this question for almost a month, and I have finally settled on three. While many decisions could have occupied these three spots, I decided to favor the toughest and most unlikely decisions of my life rather than the ones that were easy and obvious.

For example, deciding to marry Elysha is probably the most important decision of my life, but it was barely a decision. Who wouldn’t want to marry Elysha if given the chance? It was a no-brainer.

Instead, I found three extremely important decisions in my life that could have gone either way and changed the course of my life forever.

1. Maintaining my innocence when charged with grand larceny and embezzlement.

While being questioned about a crime that I did not commit, the police almost had me convinced to confess to the crime rather than risk a lengthy prison sentence. I spent a minute in a mop closet pondering that decision and ultimately decided to stick to the truth, but it was a close call. The police can apply a great deal of pressure in these moments, particularly when you are a 19 year-old kid without any parents, any money or an attorney.

The result was a brief period of homelessness, 18 months spent working 80 hours a week at two different jobs in order to pay a $25,000 attorney’s bill, a permanent case of post traumatic stress disorder as a result of an armed robbery, and a trial where I was found not guilty.

Had I confessed and accepted their plea deal, I could not have become a teacher. 

2. Choosing West Hartford Public Schools over Newington Public Schools.

In the summer of 1999, my hometown of Newington, CT had offered me a permanent position as third grade teacher in one of their elementary schools. I was asked for a day to consider their offer, but the wait time was merely perfunctory. I was taking the job.

During that 24 hour period, I received a call from a principal in West Hartford requesting an interview. Out of curiosity more than anything else, I agreed to speak to him that day. Three hours later, he had offered me a one year position covering a second grade teacher on maternity leave.

The permanent position in Newington would have been the wise and sensible choice. It was in my hometown and would provide me with long-term stability in a time when teaching jobs were hard to find. But I was impressed by the principal, his commitment to children, and his support for the arts. After much debate, I decided upon the one year position in West Hartford, and 16 years later, I am still teaching in the same school.

 

That decision changed my life. I met my wife while teaching at that school school. I met five of my closest friends while teaching, including the principal, who has since retired but remains one of my closest friends today. I met my son’s and daughter’s god parents while teaching at that school. Many of my former students are my children’s favorite babysitters, and one of my first students is our primary babysitter and like a member of the family.

I was given the freedom to create a classroom environment that placed reading, writing, and theater at its core, and I have developed a teaching philosophy that has led to much success in my field. I was named Teacher of the Year in West Hartford and was a finalist for Connecticut Teacher of the Year.

I started playing golf, a game that I love beyond all others, thanks to the friends I met at that school, and ultimately wrote a book about it. 

The school’s community, teachers, students, and parents, have become a second family to me. When my job and my future were threatened several years ago, they rallied around me in ways I could have never expected.

3. Saying yes when my best friend asked me to start a wedding DJ company with him.

In 1997, I was attending Trinity College and Saint Joseph’s University fulltime, working on degrees in both English and elementary education. I was also managing a McDonald’s restaurant fulltime and tutoring students part-time at the college’s writing center. I was writing for the college’s newspaper. I was the Treasurer of the Student Senate.

I was busier than I had ever been in my life.

Then Bengi called and asked if I wanted to be a wedding DJ, even though we had no experience or equipment or knowledge of the industry, and I said yes.

Seventeen years later, we remain in business. I have entertained at more than 400 weddings in that time. The DJ company has provided me with much needed income through the lean times of my life.

I met one of my best friends while working as the DJ at his wedding, and that friendship has led to me becoming a Patriots season ticket holder. That same friend led me back into writing when I had given up hope on ever becoming a novelist and professional writer.

I would not have a writing career today had it not been for him. 

I unknowingly gained 17 years of public speaking experience, which allowed me to step into the world of storytelling and public speaking three years ago with unexpected ease and success. I won my first Moth StorySLAM in large part to the experience I gained as a DJ.

I have since competed in 24 Moth StorySLAMs in New York and Boston and won 12 of them. I’ve told stories for Main Stage shows and GrandSLAM championships and many other storytelling organizations in New York, Boston and Hartford. I would not be the storyteller and speaker I am today had I not worked for almost two decades as a wedding DJ.

 

Telling stories for The Moth led to the founding of Speak Up, the Hartford-based storytelling organization that my wife and I founded last year. In a little over a year, we have produced eight sell out shows, launched a series of storytelling workshops, and have now been approached by outside venues, asking us to take our show on the road.

The DJ business also led to me becoming ordained as a minister. I have presided over almost 20 weddings, one baptism, and three baby naming ceremonies in that time.

I’d love to hear your three most important decisions if you’re willing to share. Post in the comment sections. Send me an email. Contact me through social media.

Own your crazy

People are weird. People are crazy. People obsess over things, worry about things and develop rituals around things that baffle and confuse the people around them.

It’s okay. As long as you’re not hurting anyone, it’s really okay.

But here’s my advice:

Own your crazy.

Don’t deny it. Don’t defend it. Don’t attempt to mitigate it. Simply own it. Admit to it, acknowledge it, and people (I promise) will accept you.

It’s only when you attempt to defend your crazy as normal that people get annoyed, frustrated, and angry.

It’s only when you refuse to own your crazy that you risk being perceived as crazy.

I wear wireless headphones on my head. I wear them almost all the time. I have them on now. I wear them in my house, in the car, on the streets, and while walking the hallways at work. Whenever I am not speaking or listening to someone or writing, there is a book or a podcast or a song playing in my head.

This is not normal. It’s kind of crazy.

I think it allows me to consume vast quantities of content. I think it increases my productivity exponentially. I think it allows me to eliminate many of the petty annoyances of the world.

But a man walking through life wearing headphones almost all of the time is not normal. It’s kind of crazy. When I acknowledge that it’s kind of crazy, people nod. They smile. They even laugh. And that’s the end of it.

I own my crazy.

During the school year, I eat the exact same food for breakfast and lunch almost every day without variation. Egg McMuffin for breakfast. Oatmeal for lunch. Every day.

That is kind of crazy.

It reduces the amount of time I spend eating considerably. It eliminates  time spend making food choices or preparing other meals. And I like Egg McMuffins and oatmeal. The Egg McMuffin provides a good breakfast, and the oatmeal is an excellent means of keeping your cholesterol down.

But eating the same thing every single day is crazy. I know it. I own it.  

 

See? That wasn’t hard.

My friend tells me that this advice is pointless because people are not self aware. He says that it’s rare for a person to possess actual introspection. He claims that it’s almost impossible for people to turn a critical eye upon themselves.

I hope he’s wrong.

So if you’re the parent of a five year-old daughter, and you have never left her with a babysitter because you fear for your child’s safety, that is completely understandable.

And a little crazy.

Rather than attempting to defend this position, simply say, “I really can’t leave my daughter with anyone except my sister at this point. I can’t even leave her with my best friend. I know. It’s a little crazy. It’s just the way I’m doing things right now.”

If your children spend more time sleeping in your bed than their own, that’s okay. I know many parents with this unfortunate arrangement. But it’s crazy. Just say it. “Yes, my three kids sleep in our bed a lot of the time, and I even have a cot at the end of the bed for one of them. Sometimes my husband has to sleep in the kids’ beds to get some sleep. It’s absolutely crazy, but I’m not ready to change things yet.”

Own it.

If the television is on in your house all day long, that’s kind of crazy.

If your preferred leisure activity is shopping, that’s kind of crazy.

If you mow your lawn three times a week, that’s kind of crazy.

If you can’t leave your six cats alone for more than three hours at a time, that’s kind of crazy.

If you wash and wax your car every other day, that’s kind of crazy.

If you don’t read, that’s kind of crazy.

If you refuse to ride in a car unless you’re the driver, that’s kind of crazy.

If you don’t want to split the check evenly because you had one less drink than your dinner companions, that’s kind of crazy.

Simply acknowledge that your actions are not normal, and people will be far more accepting and even sympathetic to your needs. They are more likely to accommodate you needs. They will be more understanding.

Deny your crazy and risk being perceived as legitimately crazy.

Own your crazy and you’ll be perceived as normal.

Just like the rest of us.

I live in a country where Janet Jackson’s boob receives more attention than net neutrality.

I just learned that the FCC received 1.4 million comments on their website regarding Janet Jackson’s wardrobe malfunction during the 2004 Super Bowl. This is the most comments that they have ever received about an issue.

I’m not saying that the world needed to see Janet Jackson’s nipple-covered breast at halftime of a Super Bowl, but do we really live in a country so prudish that more than a million people ran to their computers following the reveal to complain?

It’s just a boob.

But I guess we do.

The FCC is currently soliciting comments on the issue of net neutrality, which is about a billion times more important than a televised boob, and thanks to HBO’s John Oliver and his recent call to viewers to voice their opinions, the FCC has received just over a million comments on the issue.

Not as many as they received for a boob, but still a lot.

It’s just a table with some crayons and paints and paper, but in a surprising way, it’s changed the course of my children’s lives.

It’s rare that a simple change can alter the course of an entire household, but our recent decision to turn an otherwise unused table in our home into an art table for our children has made all the difference.

Almost instantly, the table pulled our children into its sphere of influence like a Russian dictator warmed with nuclear weapons. Crayons, paints, markers, stickers, and cut paper littered the table and floor in seconds and self-started art projects began to leap forth from their little hands. Without an ounce of guidance from us, the kids began creating things solely from their imagination.

A month later, little has changed. Every two hours, I find myself sweeping the floor beneath the table and reorganizing the construction paper and coloring books and sticker books. I grumble and complain about doing this, because it’s annoying, but I kind of love it, too. The table is now covered in marker and paint and is permanently ruined, but the projects that my children have envisioned and created on their own astound me.

More importantly, they can sit at that table for endless amounts of time, happily occupied by their work. My daughter has learned to use scissors. She’s coloring in the lines now. Her grip on crayons and markers have improved. And the kids can sit opposite each other with rarely a complaint.

If I remember correctly, the art table was my idea and Elysha’s execution, which is to say that I had a random idea that never would have happened had Elysha not actually done something about it.

Parental teamwork at work.