Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 43

Charlie passed his swim test. With me.

It was a Monday morning during my first week at Scout camp. I was eleven years old and had just finished eating breakfast when I was told to report to the waterfront for my swim test.

I was annoyed. It was early, and the morning was chilly. My belly was filled with eggs and pancakes. The last thing I wanted to do was jump in the lake and swim 100 yards. I was fully capable of doing so, but I had no desire at that particular moment.

So, a lap or two into my swim test, I quit. “This is stupid,” I thought. “I’ll do this again when it’s warm and pancakes aren’t dragging me down.”

I did not understand the ramifications of this decision. Labeled as a “beginner” swimmer, I would be relegated to a small swimming area between the docks, and the only boat I could use was a rowboat.

Rowboats suck.

“Let me try again,” I asked when my “beginner” limitations were explained to me.

“Sure,” said the waterfront director. “Next test is Wednesday.”

I was so annoyed.

The next day, when it came time to travel across the lake to sleep under the stars, my friends cruised across the water in canoes.

I eventually made it across in a stupid rowboat.

I’m still annoyed about it today.

When Charlie was preparing to head off to his first week of Scout camp, I told him this story. “I don’t know if you can pass the swim test yet, but if you get tired, keep trying as long as possible. Don’t stop. Persist. You’ll be happy you did.”

He nodded. I wondered if he was thinking about what I had said or the myriad of other things that fill his brain.

When Charlie arrived home a week later, I asked him how the swim test went.

“Oh,” he said. “I passed on the first try.”

“Congratulations,” I said. I was so happy for him. “Was it hard?”

“Oh yeah,” Charlie said. “But as I was swimming, I kept reminding myself about what you said. Don’t give up. Persist. So I did.”

It’s a small thing, I know, but to me, this was enormous. Forty years ago, I made a mistake on a Monday morning at Scout camp and suffered for it. Then I told that story to my son more than four decades later, and when it came time to face the identical test, he heard my words in his head, and they kept him going.

That is truly the essence of parenting:

I’ve made mistakes. Learn from them. Let your mistakes be unique and not avoidable repetitions of my own life.

Charlie did just that.

I have rarely felt prouder as a father than in that moment. Knowing I was with him in spirit as he swam his 1o0 yards and that my voice helped to keep him going made my heart soar.

Silly, I know. It’s a small thing—tiny, really—but it’s the biggest of all things to me.

Charlie sold his first joke

Charlie recently noted the silliness of the tee shirt pocket, which I found both astute and amusing.

Onstage last week, I told his joke — failing to assign him any credit —so I only thought it fair that I purchased the joke from him, as comics do sometimes.

When I told him that I’d like to buy it from him the next day, he immediately made me an offer.

“Ten dollars!” he said.

“Deal!” I said.

He laughed. “I can’t believe it. I’ve found an infinite money hack!”

I explained that his “infinite money hack” only worked if his jokes were good and buyers existed for them.

He’s tried to sell me three more since that first purchase.

So far, no sale. The jokes were funny but specific to him and the moment.

But for the first time in his life, he’s made money from something he has written, which is a big deal.

I was 17 when I made my first profit as a writer by writing term papers for my classmates, so he’s got a five-year jump on me.

Egregious behavior on airplanes examined

A recent survey of airline customers indicated the following opinions about egregious behavior on a plane:

86% – Letting kids play in the aisle

82% – Getting drunk

82% – Leaving seat during turbulence

81% – Watching a movie without headphones

79% – Leaving trash in seat back pocket

74% – Using both armrests 

68% – Eating smelly food

66% – Not listening to safety demonstration

I also despise most of these behaviors, with one exception.

I think we all agree that watching a movie in any public space at any time without headphones is atrocious. Despite seemingly unanimous agreement on the subject, I see this barbaric behavior more and more these days, but I have yet to meet a human being who does not find it loathsome and inhumane.

Maybe I just don’t know any loathsome people?

Getting drunk is also not a great way to behave in public, but this is coming from someone who hasn’t really consumed alcohol in nearly 30 years. Perhaps it’s more acceptable in certain circles, but it’s a terrible idea on a plane.

Eating smelly food is far too subjective for me to deem egregious. A vegan might find my cheeseburger offensive, and I can’t stand the smell of Ranch dressing and pickles.

One person’s smelly food is another’s culinary delight.

But it’s the 66% of passengers who think I should be listening to the safety demonstration who make no sense to me.

If you fly as often as I do, there comes a point when you need not listen anymore. Nothing said is new, and I absolutely, positively know the routine.

If you’ve never flown or flown only occasionally, I suspect the safety demonstration is important and necessary, but I’ve flown to Florida, Cleveland, Detroit, Los Angeles, Scottsdale, Washington, DC, San Fransisco, Washington DC again, and Victoria, Canada just this year.

Next week, I’ll fly to Ottowa. I’ll also be back in San Fransisco and Florida at least once more this year.

That’s a dozen round trips on many more planes in a year.

Last year, I flew even more.

I know what to do in an emergency. I know the drill.

Yes, maybe my seatmate doesn’t know this about me, but they must be aware that some people fly infrequently and some people fly a lot more than me.

Do they really expect the business traveler or jet-setter to watch the flight attendant pretend to inflate the life jacket, point out the exits, and demonstrate the proper wearing of the seatbelt every time?

Silly, I say.

Absolutely keep your kids from playing in the aisle. Stay sober while flying (and perhaps in life). Share your armrests (though I would also approve of giving both armrests to the middle seat passenger). And don’t you dare watch or listen to anything without headphones lest we rise up and destroy your technology.

But if someone isn’t paying attention to the flight attendants as they show you how seatbelts work or remind you that the nearest exit may be behind you, you can probably assume they know the drill already.

Resolution update: July 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 July 2024 results.PERSONAL FITNESS

1. Don’t die.

My calcium score —a measure of plaque built up in your arteries—was outstanding:

Calcium score of 0 places this patient in the 0th percentile rank.

This means that 99.00 percent of males at this age will have a higher calcium score than this patient. No identifiable plaque.

Very unlikely less than 1% probability of significant coronary artery disease.

10-year cardiac event risk less than 1%.

Annual risk less than 0.11%.

I’m crushing it.

2. Lose 10 pounds.

I lost two pounds in July. I’m now down two pounds for the year.

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

Done. I did not miss a day in July.

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

Done. I did not miss a day in July.

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

Done. I did not miss a day in July.

6. Cycle for at least five days every week. 

Done.

I’ve recorded 215 rides in 214 days in 2024.

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

My current handicap is 27.3. That is a high number.

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

The average male golfer’s handicap isn’t really 14.2 because the vast majority of golfers don’t record their scores or keep track of their handicaps, and that group of golfers represents a substantially larger percentage of average golfers who do not play as well.

In other words, golfers who keep track of their handicaps 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.

Here’s the good news:

I broke 90 for the first time ever in July. I did it twice.

I really am playing better than ever before.

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.

9. Write my next Storyworthy book.

I still need to meet with my agent and editor to determine the subject of this next book.

I have a great idea, but I suspect they will want a different idea.

That meeting is scheduled for next week.

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

I discussed this book with my agent last month and made a plan to proceed.

11. Write my “Advice for Kids” book.

Progress was made in July. This is a book better written while teaching, so I expect better progress at the onset of the school year.

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 and another about the gypsy moth invasion of New England in 1981. Rough drafts of both are complete. I’ll be reading them to my class in September for feedback.

I have two other ideas that I am also excited about.

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. We still need to discuss.

14. Launch a Substack.

Substack forthcoming. I’m in discussions with folks about how to monetize best.

15. Write a new solo show.

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

16. Write a musical.

No progress.

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

One story is still in progress.

18. Write at least four letters to my father.

One letter written in 2024 so far.

19. Write 150 letters.

I wrote 22 letters in July. Recipients included Clara (while at camp), former students, clients, colleagues, friends, and two authors.

I’ve written a total of 127 letters in 2024.

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

I wrote to authors Andrew Wilkinson and Joe Rocco in July.

Two letters written so far in 2024.

STORYTELLING/SPEAKING CAREER

21. Perform a new solo show.

I had originally planned on performing at TheaterWorks in Hartford in November, but complications may push that back to April of 2025, making this goal difficult to complete.

I am waiting to hear if November is a go.

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

Re-recording continues. I’m so happy with the results.

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

I’ve produced three webinars, which will be sold as separate courses, so I’m declaring this one complete.

We’ll also be carving 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.

I co-produced the Great Hartford Story Slam in July, bringing our total to five events thus far.

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:

September 22: Speak Up — Voices of Hope show at the JCC in HartfordOctober 5: Rescheduled “Stores Sell: Storyworthy Strategies to Grow Your Business and Brand” release party at the Connecticut Museum of Culture and History

More to come!

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 two Moth StorySLAMs in July— one in Boston and one in NYC.

Eight Moth events so far in 2024.

27. Win at least one Moth StorySLAM.

Done again!

I won the NYC StorySLAM on July 17. My 62nd Moth StorySLAM victory!

I also won:

Boston StorySLAM on June 25.Boston StorySLAM on February 27.

I’ve won three out of four 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 be performing in a GrandSLAM in Seattle, 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. 

No progress.

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. 

Five newsletters were written in July.

A total of 23 newsletters so far this year.

HOME

35. Organize the basement.

HUGE progress. I’ve sorted through more than a dozen bins, donated many things, and thrown away 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 that must be eliminated. As she prepares a new classroom, I will move this material to her school or the trash bin.

FAMILY/FRIENDS

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

Done.

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

Clara was at camp, so although her camp posted photos to the app, she was not featured every day.

Charlie was a camp for a week. Similarly, his Scoutmasters took some photos, but days were missed.

Otherwise done.

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

Three out of four weeks done.

40. Plan a reunion of the Heavy Metal Playhouse.

No progress. But in a strange coincidence, a teacher in our school grew up in Attleboro, where the Heavy Metal Playhouse was located, and she is friends with the person who manages Crystal Village, where it was located.

Given how spread out my friends are today, an in-person reunion is probably impossible, but it gave me a little hope.

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.

42. Surprise Elysha at least 12 times.

Two surprises in July:

Tickets to “The Outsiders ” on Broadway this monthA well-timed sweet tea

Also several more surprises planned.

Seven 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 tea

43. Play poker at least six times.

No progress. I’m so dumb.

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

One day spent together in July. A total of three 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

Charlie and I are attending another Styx concern this month, so perhaps I’ll memorize a new Styx song along with him.

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

I did not practice in July. All of my practice was done during the school day, so summer vacation — a time when I should be able to practice more than ever — put an end to my practice.

Which is stupid.

MISCELLANEOUS PROJECTS

47. Read at least 12 books.

I read five books in July, bringing my total to 19 so far in 2024.

”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

I’m currently reading:

“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
“Nothing But a Good Time” by Tom Beaujour

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

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

I did not read any of these books in July. I will continue to pursue this goal in September when my school library is available to me.

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 no names in July since the school year ended.

Starting in September, I will acquire a list of all staff and begin checking off names to faces rather than spotting someone in the hallway and wondering who the person is.

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.

I’ve contacted the people in charge of the cemetery where I want to complete this project, and I’m waiting for them to respond.

I am also concerned that doing so might be a little heartbreaking for me.

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

Done.

Tug boat story

A man told me this story last week:

As a teenager in the 1980s, he played basketball for his high school team. He lived on Cape Cod, and on a Friday afternoon in January, his team was scheduled to play a game against a rival team on Martha’s Vineyard. They took the ferry across Nantucket Sound, entered the opponent’s gym, and commenced battle.

As they played, a snowstorm rolled in, producing blizzard-like conditions. Meteorology wasn’t nearly as accurate back then as it is today, so although they knew snow was possible, no storm of this magnitude had been predicted.

When the game ended and the teams exited the gym, they discovered a foot of snow on the ground and more still coming.

All ferries to the mainland had been canceled.

As assistant coaches began dropping quarters into payphones to call parents to alert them to the situation and looking for hotels for the night, the head coach walked down to the pier, where a tug boat was being readied to launch. The coach asked the tugboat captain if he was headed to the mainland. When the tugboat captain said yes, the coach asked if he wouldn’t mind giving his team a ride.

The tugboat captain agreed, but the boat’s cabin was too small to fit the team, so they would need to make the journey on the deck, exposed to the snowstorm for the 45-minute journey across the sound.

The coach agreed.

So, in blizzard conditions, the basketball team claimed aboard a small tug and made the harrowing journey across Nantucket Sound back to Cape Cod.

The man who told me the story arrived home just after 3:00 in the morning. He rang the doorbell and was greeted by a bleary-eyed father.

“I thought you were coming back tomorrow,” his dad said.

“Coach found us a ride on a tug boat.”

His father nodded and went back to bed.

I love this story.

Today, none of this would have happened. Weather forecasts would’ve canceled the game, of course, but taking a dozen teenagers across a body of water in a blizzard on a tug boat would have got any coach fired today.

An unscheduled trip on an uninspected, unapproved seagoing vessel.

Not a single signed permission slip.

No medical forms.

No communication with anyone on the mainland about the change in plan.

The best part:

No one cared. In the early morning hours, kids arrived home with stories of a tugboat and a blizzard, and parents nodded and went back to bed.

What a lovely time to be alive.

When I started teaching 25 years ago, the world was not very different from those tugboat days.

If a student missed the bus, I drove them home.

If a student didn’t have lunch, I would share some of mine.

One evening, a student failed to show up for one of my Shakespearean productions, so I told the audience of parents and relatives to sit tight while I raced to the child’s home, dragged him from the house, and brought him to school to perform.

After failing to inspire a student to complete homework assignments, I went to a student’s home alongside our social worker with a desk, chair, and school supplies. While the social worker talked to the boy’s grandmother about the importance of getting homework done, I went into the boy’s bedroom, placed the desk and chair in a corner, organized a workspace, and then pulled out the power cords to his two video game systems, rendering them useless.

I took those cords back to school, using them as bait to get the boy to work.

Another boy came to school late every day because his single mother could not get him out of the house on time, making her late for work. So, one morning, I arrived at the boy’s home while he was still in his pajamas. I dragged him to my car and drove him to school, still in his pajamas. The boy was angry and outraged that his classmates would see him in pajamas, but I told him he should’ve considered this before failing to get himself ready.

Five minutes before the bell rang to start the school day, I pulled out a paper bag from my desk containing a set of clothes packed by his mother. “If I give you these clothes, will you ever be late again?”

He never was.

Another boy was failing to work hard and reach his potential, so I asked my first-grade colleague if I could borrow her star student for a couple of hours. The next day, that first-grade girl sat beside my third-grade boy, ready to do third-grade work. I hoped that sitting beside a focused, hard-working first grader who was nearly capable of doing third-grade math would light a fire under the boy, who didn’t want to be matched or beaten by a student two years his junior.

It worked. The boy worked hard and learned more that day than ever before. I’m not sure if he continued to work hard because he had learned the value of hard work or was afraid to face off with the first grader again, but his improvement from that moment on was astronomical.

None of this would work today.

Administrators and some parents would reject everything I described and likely terminate my employment.

I understand why. School districts and administrators are fearful of this litigious world. Some of the things mentioned might put students at risk.

But when we fail to be creative, ridiculous, outrageous, or inventive in our efforts to inspire students to learn, we also put them at risk. School districts don’t bear the weight of that risk, because it will be realized years later, but the student— and ultimately society—will suffer.

But it’s also a relentless homogenization of education, where school districts and administrators seek to create a uniform, lock-step approach to teaching, failing to exploit teachers’ specific talents and interests. Rather than encouraging teachers to bring their gifts to the classroom, school districts often attempt to neuter those gifts, seeking a workforce that does the same thing every day, sometimes at the very same time.

It’s a disaster.

Want to know what’s wrong with education?

I have many things to say, but I’d start with that:

The attempted homogenization of the education system. The systemic elimination of joy, spontaneity, ingenuity, and creativity from the classroom.

The end of the days when you could catch a tugboat ride back to the mainland in a blizzard.

Best kind of friendship

I am blessed with so many great friends. I consider myself lucky to have so many amazing people in my life. My friends are truly precious to me.

Each friendship is different in many ways, but the type of friendship I adore most is the one where teasing and tormenting are an integral part of the relationship. Insults, pranks, and other stinging barbs hurled both ways are the bedrock for a solid friendship.

These tend to be the closest, most trusted friendships, at least for me. When you can tease a friend without fear of hurting their feelings, you have something special.

Which is why I sent this text to my friend, Jeni last week:

“I hit my 200th workout on my exercise bike today and received this email when I finished. Somehow, I thought it would annoy you to know that my bike thinks I’m unstoppable, too. So I decided to send you the screenshot.”

My unstoppable, relentless, optimistic, exceedingly confident, worry-free existence sometimes annoys Jeni.

Maybe you, too.

I was sure this email would annoy Jeni.

Sadly, it did not. She wrote back:

“Ella and I heard your message aloud in the car and cracked up.”

I’ll need to try harder.

Disastrous travel: Part 2

My recent trip to Victoria was marred by canceled flights, a terrifying Uber ride from one airport to another, a dog named Ginger, and much more.

I’ve written about that experience already.

Unfortunately, the trip home was also miserable.

When Delta rebooked my flights to Victoria—by putting me in an Uber with a weepy driver and shipping me to another airport—the ticket agent accidentally booked the third leg of the trip for the following day, meaning that when I arrived in Calgary, I had a ticket for 19 hours in the future.

Unable to exchange the ticket in Calgary, I was forced to purchase a brand new ticket from Calgary to Victoria, and the Delta agent said she would cancel my next-day ticket.

She did not.

This meant that I was labeled as a no-show for that flight, which triggered Delta to assume I had not arrived in Victora—even though the second ticket I purchased to Victoria was through Delta— which prompted Delta to cancel all of my return flights.

This seems crazy to me, but apparently it’s policy.

My flights were canceled overnight, so when I arrived at the airport in Victora at 4:00 AM on Friday, I discovered that I had no tickets home.

You can imagine how pleased I was to discover that Delta had arbitrarily canceled all my flights.

So, I was forced to purchase another entire set of flight homes since my original flights were now fully booked.

The first available flight out of Victora was for 10:30 AM, which meant I had awoken at 3:00 AM to arrive at 4:00 AM for a 6:00 AM departure from Victoria, which would now be almost five hours later.

It was a long day filled with long, untimely layovers, but it was interspersed by memorable moments.

I found myself playing a storytelling improv game with two kids in the Victoria terminal and eventually teaching their parents how to play, which managed to kill some time.

I also squeezed in meetings with two clients, spread out amongst three airports, so I made a little money while waiting.

My friend, Rob, sent me a list of golf courses in the Calgary area when it looked like my layover might extend for six hours or more, and I started to seriously consider calling to see if I could rent clubs at any of the courses.

I ate a proper Canadian breakfast featuring poutine, slabs of bacon, and pounds of sausage.

I hip-checked a man trying to rush to the front of the plane ahead of his fellow passengers, giving the people in front of us time to block the aisle.

I chatted with a man from London while sitting on a bench in Calgary and was voice-recognized by someone sitting behind us who heard my speaking, wondered if it was me (that storyteller from the radio), searched online for a photo of me, and compared it to me before saying, “It’s you! I recognized your voice, but I didn’t know what you looked like!”

“Better or worse than you thought?” my new friend from London asked.

Flustered, the woman said, “Neither.”

Not a ringing endorsement.

I also wrote, read, and yearned for fresh air, green grass, and freedom from travel hell.

Of course, my final flight to Connecticut was also delayed, extending my journey even longer. In the end, I entered the airport in Victora at 4:00 AM and exited Bradley International Airport in Connecticut 19 hours later. I walked through my front door at 1:30 AM and was asleep by 2:00 AM.

Tough day.

For the record, the day I actually spent in Victoria, Canada, was fantastic. I met some extraordinary people and did some great work. The view from my hotel room was incredible. I ate delicious food, engaged in stimulating conversations, and made new friends from all over the world.

It was simply sandwiched by travel hell.

I often tell clients that they’re not paying me for the handful of hours I’ll spend working with them and their people or delivering the keynote. They’re paying me for the time I spend in airports and airplanes and away from my family.

It’s not entirely true, but on travel days like last week, it often feels like it.

May all of your future travel adventures be more adventurous and less frustrating than mine.

Elysha’s Tiny Love Story

Elysha wrote a Tiny Love Story a couple of years ago for the New York Times.

It wasn’t accepted, but it should have been.

So, instead of appearing in the Times, I get to post it here instead.

Lucky me.
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Outside of school, it’s easy to be overcome with stress and worry. But at school, 14 beautiful little people require my full attention. They need me to be at my best, to be at ease, and put them at ease. I teach them to read their first word— I — and they beam with pride reading little books that say, “I play, I read, I write.” We learn about the number zero and take turns holding zero unicorns, zero rainbows, zero hamburgers. Guiding their learning lets me focus on what’s joyful. I am thankful I get to spend my days with them.
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Crocs (and maybe more?)

I hate Crocs.

I’ve never donned a pair because I’m afraid I’ll like them too much. And I don’t want to like them because, to me, they look like footwear for people who have given up on life.

I tell my students (and my own children) that Crocs are like wearing trashcans on their feet.

I’ll bet they are super comfortable and incredibly convenient. Everyone seems to own a pair. Intelligent, hard-working friends of mine own Crocs.

Millions of people can’t be wrong.

That is why I refuse to try them on.

I don’t want to wear trashcans on my feet.

I don’t want to become someone who can’t spend 30 seconds tying real shoes to my feet.

I want to be ready to run at all times.

I have never tasted coffee for similar reasons. I simply can’t invest the time, energy, and bandwidth into a beverage that seems precariously poised to disappoint the consumer:

Too hot, too cold, too much sugar, too little sugar, the wrong kind of sugar, the wrong flavoring, too little flavoring, too much cream, the wrong kind of cream, the wrong brand, the wrong bean, the right bean roasted poorly…

It’s endless.

I also don’t ever want to spend any time talking about my beverages, and coffee drinkers spend a lot of time talking about coffee.

So I’ve avoided it all my life. Never tasted it even once. Granted, I don’t like hot drinks very much, and I don’t love the smell of coffee, so even if I tried it, I might not like it.

Then again, billions of people can’t be wrong.

So, I finally found a solution to this conundrum:

I bought stock in Crocs this week. I’ve already owned stock in Starbucks for years.

If I’m going to avoid a product out of fear of loving it like so many others, I will participate in the excitement of these products by benefiting financially from their success.

He beat me to the joke

Charlie asks why some tee shirts have one seemingly useless pocket.

He’s right.

Right?

Pointless pockets.

I’m so annoyed that I didn’t think of this first. He beat me to the joke.

Also, the apple apparently does not fall far from the tree.