Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 41

Sedaris was great. His limericks were not.

Elysha, some friends, and I saw David Sedaris perform last night at The Bushnell.

We’ve seen Sedaris perform before, and as we’ve come to expect, he was excellent.

I’ve read all of Sedaris’s books and listened to many of them, too. Last year, after I wrote to Sedaris, he wrote back to me.

It was quite exciting.

I adore the man.

But one portion of last night’s reading left me uninspired. Early in the evening, Sedaris read a series of limericks he’d written for an event in New York City.

I don’t love limericks.

In fact, I typically hate them for a few reasons:

First, they tend to be laden with puns, and boy, do I despise a pun. Puns are the lowest form of a joke — a pathetic attempt to make people laugh via a play on words.

There’s nothing insightful about a pun. No attempt to make me see the world in a new way or think a little differently. Nothing about a pun reveals a hidden truth I’ve never before realized or offers me a glimpse into a life unlike mine.

A pun is just an attempt to surprise me by making a word represent a different.

Bah.

But equally annoying, limericks have a consistent rhyming structure, meaning that if you’re paying attention and can think ahead, you can often predict the essence of the last line, as I did with many of Sedaris’s puns last night.

I couldn’t tell you his last lines with precision, but I knew the limerick’s final word and, therefore, the essence of that final line.

If the first two lines of the limerick end with the words “stick” and “trick,” I’m pretty sure I know where the limerick is going, particularly because of the third reason I don’t like puns:

They are often dirty.

In fact, Sedaris said that limericks were supposed to be dirty, and his limericks were especially filthy.

I’m not a fan of most dirty jokes because they tend to circle the same drain that a million jokes have already circled, making their concepts trite and unoriginal.

They are also rarely repeatable in mixed company.

Sedaris recited some filthy limericks last night, and he could do so because he was onstage with a microphone, reading his work. I suspect many people in the audience, including Elysha and my friends, didn’t like the limericks very much, but Sedaris didn’t risk offending us because it was a performance.

He can get away with a lot when you’re standing in front of an audience, attempting to entertain them. A lot of leeway is offered, and risk-taking — within reason — is often welcomed.

Sedaris wasn’t reciting his limericks at a dinner party, on the sidelines of a soccer game, or in line at Starbucks. I suspect he wouldn’t under those circumstances.

This places dirty jokes in the realm of the performer and people who aren’t worried about walking through life, offending vast swaths of people.

I don’t love this about limericks, either.

But other than the five minutes of puns, I loved the show. Brilliant as always.

And admittedly, as much as I didn’t like the limericks, the audience laughed after each one, and when it comes to comedy, the audience tells you if you’re winning.

If they aren’t laughing, you aren’t funny.

If they are roaring with laughter, you’re doing something right.

Despite my feelings about the limericks, Sedaris was winning last night as he was reading them.

Sadly, there’s no accounting for taste.

Duke Ellington’s wisdom

Duke Ellington once said, “I don’t need more time; I need a deadline.”

If you make things, you almost certainly understand this.

Job vs. real life

One of my clients sent me a fascinating survey called the Culture Index Report. Answer a billion questions, and the results are remarkable. Not only did this survey accurately describe me, honing in on the things most pertinent to me, but it also suggests means by which I can negotiate the world more effectively and tells others how to best work with me.

If I were dating again, I would hand the survey results over on the first date and say, “Here. This is me. What do you think?”

It’s that accurate.

Elysha also took the survey, and her results were similarly descriptive.

Amongst the many surprising revelations in the survey was this:

I am constantly adjusting my behavior and approach to life when I’m at work to a degree I have never before seen.

This surprised me. If you asked my colleagues, I suspect they would say I don’t adjust my workplace behavior enough. In their minds, and mine, I am very much myself at work, which often causes friction, angst, and even discord at times.

But as much as that may be true, my colleagues still do not get a full measure of who I am, at least according to this survey.

It never occurred to me that the differences in my job behaviors profile and my survey traits profile — the difference between my behavior at work and the person I truly am — would indicate the need to behave differently in these settings, but of course, they would.

And yes, it’s true. I’ve had to adjust considerably over the years to meet the needs and expectations of the workplace, though I suspect that my jobs behavior survey — if answered specifically for the time I spend with students — would be similar to my survey traits profile.

Adults demand greater adjustment from me, whereas kids like me the way I am.

And that was an epiphany… right there. I’m typing this realization in real time. It’s a massive life-understanding realization:

Alongside family and my closest friends, my students know me best. I get to be myself in their presence. I remove all filters while teaching and am the most me I can possibly be.

Wow. It’s true. The person inside the classroom with my ten-year-old students is slightly different than the one who exits the classroom door and walks down the hallway to a meeting.

I’m certainly still myself in the presence of adults, but it’s a slightly muted version of me. A more accommodating, more malleable version of myself.

But my students get the concentrated version of me.

No wonder why leaving teaching often feels so impossible.

I’d be forced to leave my people. My little people. The people who know me best.

Get the right bench

Nothing makes me so simultaneously happy and sad as a memorial bench placed in a perfect spot by people who loved a person who is no more.

It’s a beautiful way to honor a loved one while also reminding us — or maybe just me — that a life has ended.

This one — located on a hill overlooking a field at Westmoor Park in West Hartford — is especially lovely because the plaque says so much:

In Loving Memory of Francis J Costello
For his love of city parks, good newspapers, and a well-placed bench

If you’re purchasing a memorial bench for someone, splurge a little and add a few extra words.

They really mean a lot.

The special sauce may be special, but who knows?

For my entire life, I have been ordering burgers from restaurants and asking them to hold their special sauce because — and I know this sounds obvious — I don’t know what is in their damn special sauce.

I don’t get it.

How are people ordering food with a sauce that’s only defined as special?

Not even a hint of what it might taste like?

No list of ingredients.

No indication of whether it’s spicy or sweet or anything in between?

The cheeseburger or chicken sandwich or pulled pork has a “special sauce,” and people just agree to blindly eat it, hoping that it doesn’t ruin the primary source of calories on their plate?

This makes no sense to me.

Are these mysterious special sauces so tasty that I have nothing to fear?

Is every special sauce really just as good as the next one?

Is it so special that its ingredients can simply remain a mystery?

This may be fine for most people, but I don’t get it. I care way too much about my burger to allow some random mystery sauce to be added.

No, thank you.

Women’s suffrage is tragically, stupidly not that old

While I was in Ottowa, I saw a fantastic memorial to women’s suffrage, which reminded me:

American women have only been allowed to vote for 104 years. Barely more than a single lifetime.

That’s crazy.

Human beings — and men in particular — were sexist and stupid for a very long time.

Many still are today.

Canadian women — for whom this memorial commemorates — have only been allowed to vote for 106 years. The same is true for British and German women.

Russian women have been voting for 105 years, though Russian elections are a sham today, so the extent to which their votes actually matter is questionable at best.

Brazilian women won the right to vote just 92 years ago.

French women have only been voting for the last 80 years.

Chinese women began voting 76 years ago, though the extent to which votes matter in China is also questionable.

Indian women have only been voting for 73 years.

Swiss women won the right to vote in federal elections just 53 years ago — the year I was born.

Saudi Arabia gave women the right to vote in 2015, though the country is effectively a patriarchal monarchy, so voting rights overall are minimal. However, women and men at least share the same limited rights to suffrage within the country.

The earliest attempts at female suffrage actually took place in New Jersey, of all places. The state experimented with women’s suffrage from 1776 to 1807 before finally abandoning it.

Finland in 1906 and Norway in 1913 were the first fully sovereign countries to enact female suffrage. Women in New Zealand began voting in 1896, but New Zealand was technically a territory of another country at the time and not a sovereign nation.

Women now have the right to vote in every country and territory in the world except for one:

Vatican City — the smallest nation in the world.

Female suffrage does not exist in the center of Christianity and the seat of Catholicism. The leader of Vatican City — the Pope —  is elected by Catholic Church cardinals, who must be male, so the women of Vatican City — approximately 32 in all — still live and work under an oppressive patriarchal regime for which they have no say.

Perhaps someday, the women of Vatican City will rise up against their 700 or so celibate, robed oppressors and demand a voice in their government.

It would make for a hell of a movie.

Never a good reason to do anything

Elysha and I walked halfway across the Golden Gate Bridge last weekend.

On the way back, I heard someone say:

“Not everyone can say they walked across the Golden Gate. Right?”

This annoyed me.

“Not everyone can say… ” is never a good reason to do anything.

We don’t do things to say we did things. Yes, we may eventually tell people that we did a thing — as I have done here — but you’ll never hear me rationalize a decision based upon the opportunity to say I did a thing at some point in the future.

Elysha and I walked across the Golden Gate Bridge because we wanted to. We thought it would be fun to stand high above the waters of San Fransisco Bay and take in the view.

You do something to experience it. Embrace it. Sear it into your mind as a lasting memory.

This is the reason to do something. .

Speaking about it after the fact can be lovely — especially if you tell the story well — but doing something to say it was done is dumb.

Don’t do things so you can brag about those doing things.

Do things because they are things you want to do.

Pens in doctor’s office

This is brilliant.

It’s also a damn tragedy that it needs to exist.

It should also be acknowledged that more than 99% of the time, the red pen is used by women.

But when the Republican candidate for President and former President openly boasts about sexual assault and a jury of his peers finds him liable for sexual assault, and yet a majority of his party still supports him, it shouldn’t be all that surprising that a system like this is required.

When a society  — or certain aspects of it — allows men to assault women, denigrates them for choosing not to have children, and strips away their bodily autonomy, systems like this need to exist.

When terrible men see other terrible men at the top of the food chain acting terribly without repercussions, they are permitted — and almost encouraged — to act upon their terrible instincts in terrible ways.

As a result, good people need to use black and red pens to try to save victims from further victimization.

Michelle Obama

From Michelle Obama’s brilliant DNC speech:
_______________________________

“She (Kamala Harris) understands that most of us will never be afforded the grace of failing forward. We will never benefit from the affirmative action of generational wealth.

If we bankrupt a business or choke in a crisis, we don’t get a second, third, or fourth chance.

If things don’t go our way, we don’t have the luxury of whining or cheating others to get further ahead. We don’t get to change the rules so we always win.

If we see a mountain in front of us, we don’t expect there to be an escalator waiting to take us to the top.

No, we put our heads down. We get to work. In America, we do something.”
_______________________________

The whole speech was fantastic—both in content and delivery—but this section, and especially that first paragraph, was the part I loved most.

“Most of us will never be afforded the grace of failing forward.
We will never benefit from the affirmative action of generational wealth.”

Boy do I love those two sentences.

I have nothing against folks blessed with a safety net that allows them to fail without disaster. I know people for whom their first, second, and even third businesses didn’t work out but had the luxury of settling into a family business, falling back on inheritance, or enjoying the generosity of parents who were willing to pick their children up, dust them off, and equip them for another adventure.

From a distance, the affirmative action of generational wealth appears to be a lovely thing. I know nothing about it, but I would not have complained if I had been blessed with any generational wealth.

But it’s when these same people fail to acknowledge their privilege, attribute their success solely to hard work and intelligence, and besmirch others for failing to achieve similar results despite the absence of generational wealth, a family business, a graduate degree funded by parents, and a perpetually strong safety net that my blood boils.

It feels good to know you pulled yourself up by your bootstraps. Knowing that you’ve survived and thrived on your own builds heaps of confidence, self-esteem, and inner fortitude. I can understand why someone who enjoys “the affirmative action of generational wealth” might not be excited about crediting some of their success to the previous generation’s hard work and good fortune.

But for every person who has managed to pull themselves up by the bootstraps, many have tried and failed — not for lack of effort but simply because they lacked other essentials required for success, like good luck, fortuitous timing, the right mentor, and more.

Luck plays a role in all of our lives, but it becomes much less important when you enjoy the grace of failing forward.

Luck becomes decidedly less important when you are born lucky enough to benefit from the affirmative action of generational wealth.

It’s the folks who are bouncing for a second or third time on their family’s safety net, enjoying a debt-free existence thanks to an absence of student loans, or are climbing the corporate ladder in their mother’s company who most often besmirch others for their lack of success and often attribute it to a lack of hard work or limited intelligence.

I suspect that sometimes, these people are so ensconced by the affirmative action of generational wealth that they don’t see and can’t begin to imagine the struggles of others.

But other times — perhaps more often — I think it’s too painful for these folks to admit that their success was not entirely theirs. They so desperately want to tell a bootstrap story, but in the absence of one, they turn a blind eye to their good fortune and claim it anyway, pretending that the benefits and advantages provided by their parents were non-existent or irrelevant.

Donald Trump has repeatedly claimed that he received a $1 million loan from his father to launch his real estate business when records indicate he received at least $413 million from his father’s company.

This is truly a man who has fallen forward repeatedly, bankrupting business after business but still landing on his feet.

A $413 million next egg, combined with fraud, extracting wealth from fake charities, and refusing to pay employees and contractors will do that for a person.

But I think for every Donald Trump, many more Americans benefit from the affirmative action of a more modest but no less important amount of generational wealth who refuse to acknowledge their good fortune and denigrate others for not working hard enough or smart enough.

Michelle Obama was correct:

“Most of us will never be afforded the grace of failing forward. We will never benefit from the affirmative action of generational wealth.”

But perhaps we afford those folks — most people — the grace of understanding, empathy, consideration, and maybe even legislation to allow them to enjoy the opportunity of a second or third chance when needed.

Maybe even a first chance to do something great.

Resolution update: September 2024

Every month, I report the progress of my yearly goals to monitor progress (or the lack thereof) and hold myself accountable. The following are the September 2024 results.PERSONAL FITNESS

1. Don’t die.

I was sure that I had pneumonia, but after a chest X-ray, a COVID test, and a flu test, it turns out that I only have a plain old virus.

Still alive despite still being sick.

2. Lose 10 pounds.

After a wedding weekend in San Fransisco, a bunch of days without exercise, and about four bags of cough drops, I managed to gain four pounds.

Hopefully, this is temporary, and when I finally shake this cold, the added pounds will fall off.

3. Do a targeted push-up workout at least four times per week. 

I didn’t exercise for the last six days of September because of illness. Otherwise done.

4. Complete 100 sit-ups four times per week. 

I didn’t exercise for the last six days of September because of illness. Otherwise done.

5. Complete three one-minute planks four times a week.

I didn’t exercise for the last six days of September because of illness. Otherwise done.

6. Cycle for at least five days every week. 

I didn’t exercise for the last six days of September because of illness.

I’ve recorded 268 rides in 274 days in 2024.

7. Meet or beat the USGA’s average golfing handicap for men of 14.2. 

My current handicap is 25.4, down from 25.7 last month. Still a high number but improving.

But I’ve come to realize something important via research:

The average male golfer’s handicap isn’t really 14.2 because most golfers don’t maintain a handicap, and those who do tend to be a minority of better, more serious golfers who are active members at country clubs.

I’ve set a goal that may be unrealistic.

WRITING CAREER

8. Complete my eighth novel.

I continue to work on the book based on the editor’s feedback. I am making excellent progress. It was supposed to be done at the end of August, but I am not quite finished.

Very close, though.

9. Write my next Storyworthy book.

My next book will not be a storytelling book. My agent and I have decided upon a novel instead.

That said, I have another storytelling book written in first-draft form, and I’m wrapping it up. It won’t go to the publisher anytime soon, but it’ll be done.

10. Write, edit, and revise my golf memoir.

Work has begun on adding to and revising. As golf season ends in a month — or two or three — this book will keep me company through the winter months.

11. Write my “Advice for Kids” book.

Excellent progress made. I’ve combined three lists written over five years into one organized list—a very productive flight from San Fransisco to Dallas—and have begun fleshing out each piece of advice.

2. Write/complete at least three new picture books, including one with a female, non-white protagonist.

I’m writing children’s books about Connecticut’s infamous October 2011 snowstorm, the gypsy moth invasion of New England in 1981, and the lullaby “Rock a By Baby.”

Rough drafts of all are complete. I’ve read one of them to my class for feedback. I’ll be finalizing them in the final months of 2024.

I have three other ideas I’m beginning to work on, too.

13. Write about my childhood in partnership with my sister, Kelli, at least twice per month. 

Kelli and I spent a day together in February but forgot to discuss this topic. Seven months later, we still need to discuss.

14. Launch a Substack.

Substack forthcoming. I’m in discussions with folks about how to monetize best, and I’m enrolled in a course on managing Substacks effectively.

15. Write a new solo show.

All the work on this project is done in my head since I’ve never written down anything I say onstage, so I don’t have much to show for my efforts, but I am working hard nonetheless.

I’ve accumulated all of the stories I plan to tell as a part of the show, and I may have them ordered properly, too.

16. Write a musical.

No progress.

17. Submit at least three Op-Ed pieces to The New York Times for consideration.

Done!

One story was submitted in September. Three so far in 2024. All rejected.

I also submitted all three to the Washington Post. Also rejected.

18. Write at least four letters to my father.

One letter written in 2024 so far.

19. Write 150 letters.

Done!

I wrote 16 letters in September. The recipients included students, former students, the parents of students, two friends, my child’s principal, and a restaurant.

I’ve written a total of 152 letters in 2024.

20. Write to at least six authors about a book I love. 

No letters were written in September.

I’ve written letters to authors Andrew Wilkinson and Joe Rocco so far.

STORYTELLING/SPEAKING CAREER

21. Perform a new solo show.

Initially, I planned on performing at TheaterWorks in Hartford in November, but complications with their scheduling have pushed that back to April 2025.

22. Complete the re-recording of Storyworthy For Business. 

Recording complete! I need to do some voice-over when my voice returns, and then I’m done!

23. Record and produce at least two new Storyworthy courses.

I produced and sold another webinar in September, bringing the total to four in 2024.

We’ll also carve up the new Storyworthy for Business course into smaller, separate courses, extending this goal considerably.

24. Produce a total of six Speak Up storytelling events in 2024.

No shows were produced in September. A Voices of Hope show was rescheduled for the spring of 2025.

Five shows have been produced so far in 2024. They include:

“Matt and Jeni Are Unprepared” on March 2 at TheaterWorks in Hartford.“Sportsing” on March 16 at the Connecticut Museum of Culture and History“School” on May 3 at Sedgwick Middle School in West Hartford, CTSpeak Up – CPA Prison Arts show on June 5 at The Pond House in West Hartford, CTGreat Hartford Story Slam on July 27 at Hartford Flavor Company

We also have the following show scheduled for 2024:

October 5: “Stories Sell” book party at the Connecticut Museum of Culture and HistoryNovember 8: “Matt and Jeni Are Unprepared” at the Playhouse on Park in West Hartford, CT

25. Submit pitches to at least three upcoming TEDx events, hoping to be accepted by one.

No progress.

I spoke at TEDxBU on April 20. It went very well, and the recording should be online soon.

26. Attend at least eight Moth events with the intention of telling a story.

Done! I attended one Moth StorySLAM in September in NYC.

A total of 12 Moth events so far in 2024.

27. Win at least one Moth StorySLAM.

Done. I won:

Boston StorySLAM on June 25Boston StorySLAM on February 27NYC StorySLAM on July 17

I’ve won three of five StorySLAMs so far this year.

28. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

I competed in the Moth GrandSLAM in Boston in March and placed second.

I should’ve won, but I think that a lot.

I’ll perform in a GrandSLAM in NYC and Washington, DC, later this year.

29. Pitch “You’re a Monster, Matthew Dicks” to at least a dozen theaters and/or directors in 2024.

I’ve pitched “You’re a Monster, Matthew Dicks” to two theaters so far in 2024.

I performed the show on March 30 at the Mopco Improv Theater in Schenectady, New York. It went quite well.

30. Produce at least 24 episodes of our podcast Speak Up Storytelling.

No progress.

31. Perform stand-up at least six times. 

I’ve performed stand-up twice in 2024 — both shows in Ottowa, Canada.

32. Pitch three stories to This American Life.

One story has been pitched thus far.

33. Submit at least three pitches to Marc Maron’s WTF podcast.

No progress.

34. Send a newsletter to readers at least 50 times. 

Eleven newsletters were written in September. I also failed to count a weekly newsletter I write to Storyworthy VIP members, so I can add another nine to my total, bringing the total in 2024 to 44.

HOME

35. Organize the basement.

I’ve made huge progress. I’ve sorted through over a dozen bins, donated many things, and discarded many things. Elysha has helped this process massively by agreeing to immediately sort through any bin I bring up from the basement.

The goal:

Organize all bins in the basement in a logical, identifiable orderEliminate anything no longer wantedStore Elysha’s classroom materials in an organized manner

36. Clear the garage of unwanted items.

Elysha’s long-forgotten classroom detritus is the last pile to be eliminated. She has begun bringing the bins to school, and this project is nearly complete.

FAMILY/FRIENDS

37. Text or call my brother or sister once per month. 

Done. I discovered that, like me, my brother has never been bruised.

It must be genetic. Right?

My sister reportedly bruises when a butterfly bumps into her.

38. Take at least one photo of my children every day.

Done.

39. Take at least one photo with Elysha and me each week.

Done!

40. Plan a reunion of the Heavy Metal Playhouse.

No progress.

41. I will not comment positively or negatively about the physical appearance of any person save my wife and children to reduce the focus on physical appearance in our culture overall.

Done. I told my students about this policy in September, and they support it wholeheartedly.

42. Surprise Elysha at least 12 times.

Two surprises in September:

Dinner was on the table as she returned home on an evening when she planned to make dinner for the family.Upgrade to first-class tickets from Minneapolis to San Fransisco thanks to my many Delta rewards points.

Ten surprises in 2024 so far:

Tickets to “Little Shop of Horrors” on BroadwayTickets to “Merrily We Go Along” on BroadwayTickets to “Tommy” on BroadwayCheesecake delivered to Elysha and her teammates during an especially challenging dayA surprise weekend spent in Rhode Island with friendsTickets to “The Outsiders ” on Broadway this monthA well-timed sweet teaA basket full of things Elysha lovesDinner on the tableFirst-class tickets to San Fransisco

43. Play poker at least six times.

Done!

I’ve decided to count poker games with Charlie since they are serious affairs with candy at stake.

I played poker four times in September, for a total of seven times in 2024.

I’ve also scheduled a game with friends for this month. Charlie is invited to play, too.

44. Spend at least six days with my best friend of more than 30 years.

Done!

We spent two days together in September—seven so far.

MUSIC

45. Memorize the lyrics to at least five favorite songs. 

Memorized so far:

“Our Wonderful Lives” by Styx
“Come a Little Bit Closer” by Jay and the Young Americans
“Fox on the Run” by Sweet

46. Practice the flute at least four times per week.

I did not practice in September.

MISCELLANEOUS PROJECTS

47. Read at least 12 books.

I read two books in September, bringing my total to 22 in 2024.

”One the Edge” by Nate Silver
“Green Lights” by Matthew McConaughey

I’m currently reading:

“Of Mice and Men” by John Steinbeck
“The Power Broker” by Robert Caro
“Excellent Advice for Living” by Kevin Kelly
”Mediations” by Marcus Aurelius
”Miracle and Wonder” by Bruce Headlam and Malcolm Gladwell

Books read in 2024 include:

“Upstream” by Chip Heath”Happy Pepple Are Annoying” by Josh Peck”Comedy Comedy Comedy Drama” by Bob Odenkirk“The Power of Regret” by Daniel Pink“Fluke” by Brian Klass“Misfit” by Gary Gulman“How to Weep in Public” by Jacqueline Novak“The Anxious Generation” by Jonathan Haidt“The Demon of Unrest” by Erik Larson”You Like It Darker” by Stephen King”A Short Guide to a Happy Life” by Anna Quindlen”How to Say Goodbye” by Wendy McNaughton”We’re All In This Together” by Tom Papa”Smart Brevity” by Jim VandeHei, Mike Allen, and Roy Schwartz”Hello Molly” by Molly Shannon“The Deerfield Massacre” by John Swanson”Duma Key” by Stephen King”Never Enough” by Andrew Wilkinson“Opposable Thumbs” by Matt Signer“The Splendid and the Vile” by Erik Larson
”One the Edge” by Nate Silver“Green Lights” by Matthew McConaughey

48. Finish reading TIME’s 100 Best Children’s Books of All Time. 

I did not read any of these books in September. I read plenty of picture books to my students, but no new ones from the list.

I may need to find or purchase some of the books on the list that are not in my school’s library.

I’ve read 36 books from the list thus far.

49. Unify my passwords using a password manager.

Done!

50. Learn to use QuickBooks for my business.

Done! Invoicing, payroll, and taxes are now all managed via QuickBooks. It’s much easier than I thought.

51. Rectify the heating problem in my studio.

I received estimates on this project, which is more than expected.

As a temporary measure, I purchased an electric radiator and plugged it into a Bluetooth outlet to turn the heat on before going downstairs, allowing the room to be warm when I entered.

This solution might be better than the thousands of dollars required to install heat, and it might be my permanent solution, depending on the possibility of finishing other parts of the basement.

My friend Chris may have an idea, too, so I’m holding off on declaring this complete.

52. Learn the names of every employee who works at my school.

I learned the names of five colleagues — four new and one existing — in September.

I’ve also acquired a list of all staff and have begun checking off names.

53. Assemble a complete toolbox.

Done! Completed as a part of the basement cleanup.

54. Edit our wedding footage into a movie of the day.

No progress. I’m actually looking forward to this job, but it will require me to learn how to edit videos using a new program.

Thankfully, I employ someone who knows exactly how to do this.

55. Memorize three new poems.

I memorized James Joyce’s “Tree” and Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.”

I’m still working on Act V Scene 5, lines 18-28 of Macbeth.

56. Complete my Eagle Scout project.

October 12! Join me at Center Cemetery in Newington, CT. Help me clean headstones and beautify this special place.

57. Post my progress regarding these resolutions on this blog and social media on the first day of every month.

Done.