Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 430

Extend your story beyond its original screen

If you saw the film Gravity, you’ll love this short film that depicts the complete conversation between Aningaaq, a polar fisherman, and Ryan, the astronaut stranded 200 miles above him.

In the actual film, we see Ryan speaking to Aningaaq, but because Aningaaq doesn’t speak English and subtitles are not provided, we don’t get a complete picture of what is being said, and we never see him.

I think film and television should do more of this. That’s easy for me to say, of course, since I’m not footing the bill for any of these extras. “Aningaaq” cost almost $100,000, and I can’t imagine that the producers will ever recoup that cost.

Still, extending your story beyond the confines of its original screen is a great way to keep it alive in the viewers mind.

The occasionally brilliant, oftentimes annoyingly stupid How I Met Your Mother has done this exceptionally well over the years. The producers have created dozens of fake websites mentioned by the characters on the show, and Neil Patrick Harris’s character, Barney Stinson, even wrote a book (that my wife and I purchased in audio form).

They also extend the show using video. In one of the best examples, it’s revealed in an episode that Cobie Smulder’s character, Robin, is a former teen music star from Canada. Her video is briefly revealed on the show but the full video, plus another, can be found on YouTube.  

It’s one of the best sitcom episodes that I’ve ever seen, partly because of the way the show extended the story into the real world.

Sadly, the subsequent episode was utter banality.

The preferred Thanksgiving Day meal time

I enjoyed a lovely and perfect Thanksgiving yesterday.

In the company of some of our best friends, we shared food, conversation and football. We chatted about our work and our children. We laughed at stories told from a year gone by. There was great debate over whether or not I am a hipster (I’m not).

In addition to the food and conversation, my son, Charlie, took more steps yesterday than he has at any other time in his life.

My daughter, Clara, who only eats fruits, breads, cheeses, yogurt, bacon (she doesn’t realize that it’s meat) and some vegetables, enjoyed a dinner slightly different than the rest of us and was understandably hungry when we arrived home that night,, but this was to be expected.

 

It was truly a perfect day.

This post is not meant to impugn the perfection of the day in any way, but the only thing that could’ve made the day better was a change in start time. I believe that noon is the ideal time for the Thanksgiving Day meal. I have hosted Thanksgiving many times in my past, and whenever I did, food was on the table as close to 12:00 as possible.

A noontime meal provides these key benefits:

1. The meal does not interfere in any way with football. The first game of the day kicks off just as you finish eating.

2. The fabled late day turkey sandwich is now a possibility and a necessity. When I hosted Thanksgivings in the past, I made sure to have the best breads and cheeses for these late day sandwiches, which were oftentimes better than the meal itself.

3. Desserts can be eaten much later in the day, after the meal has been better digested. There’s nothing better than eating pie two hours after the meal the first football game enters halftime.

4. It eliminates the need for the awkward pre-Thanksgiving Day meal. Rather than eating a lunch that doesn’t consist of turkey or ham or skipping lunch entirely in order to save room, make the Thanksgiving meal the breakfast, lunch and dinner of the day.

5. It affords a drinker who’s had one too many glasses of wine during the meal the time needed to sober up.

6. Best of all, it transforms Thanksgiving into a all day affair, which is what it should be. 

I realize that the noontime meal is a rarity. Other than the ones that I have hosted the holiday, I have never experienced one myself, but I would argue that the closer to noon, the better.

J. Bryan Lowder of Slate suggests that the perfect time for a Thanksgiving dinner is 8:00 PM, claiming that:

“the harsh winter light streaming violently through the windows casts an unappealing pall across (the meal). Candles cannot hope to compete with the sun, so everyone looks and feels washed out and, as a result, prone to petty palpitations and the flaring up of old resentments.”

Apparently Lowder dines in some horrible, post-apocalyptic world, so if this is the case for you and the appearance of the food and your guests is critical to the success of the holiday, perhaps an 8:00 PM meal is a good idea.

But for those like me who live in a world where winter light doesn’t violently stream, candles burn with a fairly consistent flame and my friends look good in almost any light, the noontime meal might be something to consider.

Yesterday’s hosts admitted that there was definite appeal to the noontime meal save one:

The need to rise at some ungodly hour to begin preparations.

While it is true that you may need to begin cooking the turkey as early as 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning, once the bird is in the oven, you can return to bed for a few hours and awaken to  house that already smells of Thanksgiving.

Not bad. Right?

I don’t know J. Bryan Lowder at all, and I’ve never read any of his work, but I don’t think I’d like to spend an evening dining with him anyway. The claim that “everyone knows that dinner—especially a dinner party—is served at the hallowed hour of 8:00 PM” is enough to make me think he’s at least a  pretentious snob and possibly worse.

This may not be a fair assessment at all, but all I have to judge is about 700 words.

Lowder’s only concession to his 8:00 start time is the admission that it’s inconvenient for anyone who has traveled from more than two hours away. But he also asserts that these people should probably be staying the night anyway.

Knowing nothing about this guy, I have to assume that he’s about 25 years-old, lives in Brooklyn, enjoys Thanksgiving with six other hipster friends in an apartment somewhere in Williamsburg, and may actually live on the set of HBO’s Girls. Lowder has no idea what “staying the night” might mean for a family of three or four with small children or a host whose home isn’t blessed with a guest room or even an elderly grandparent.

I know it’s hard to think beyond a two foot radius at times, but c’mon.

Unless your Thanksgiving excludes children, anyone over 55 and anyone traveling more than 30 minutes from their home, an 8:00 mealtime is simply insane.

I don’t even think a regular dinner party should begin at 8:00. But the again, I’ve never been very interested in what “everyone knows.”

Let’s remember someone worth remembering

The next time you see an article or photograph of some reality television celebrity like Kim Kardashian, look away. Actively disengage from their nonsense. Make a purposeful effort to know as little as possible about people who have done so little to make this world a better pace.

It’s possible, too. If you asked me to pick Kim Kardashian out of a lineup, I would be hard pressed to find her. If you asked me why she is famous, I honestly can’t tell you. I know she was on a reality television program, but I have to assume that she was famous before that, but I don’t know why.

This is only because I choose to look away whenever possible. You can do the same.

Instead, turn your attention to someone like Irena Sendler, who most of us have forgotten, if we ever knew her at all.

Forget Kim Kardashian. Remember Irena Sendler.

Imagine what a glorious world it would be if everyone did this.

Bacon: The perfect Hanukkah treat

Our first night of Hanukkah dinner was a delicious grilled cheese, apple and bacon sandwich.

As my daughter chomped on a slice of bacon (the only meat that she eats), she said, “Bacon is perfect for Hanukkah, Daddy. Don’t you think?”

I’m not Jewish, but even I know that there’s something wrong with that statement.

17 reasons why I am thankful on Thanksgiving

After lamenting over the fact that the foundation of my good fortune is based upon blind luck, I must admit that I have much to be thankful for on Thanksgiving.

The following is a terribly incomplete list:

1. My children, who are my greatest blessing in life. I find joy in everything that they do. Though I know that things may not be nearly as blissful as they grow older, they are a pair of well behaved, even-keeled kids who make parenting unexpectedly easy for us.

2. My wife, who has proven to be a remarkable mother with near-flawless instincts when it comes to parenting. She is tough, loving, unwavering and willing to do what is best for our children in all things.

She is also the best wife. I know many, many wives, and I have yet to meet one better than Elysha. She encourages me at every step, accepts me at every turn and is my partner in all of my endeavors.

She’s also incredibly beautiful, which is a nice bonus. 

3. In these not-so-easy economic times, I am thankful to still find myself with the means of providing for my family. 

I’m in my fifteenth year of teaching and love it today as much as I did when I began so long ago. While I may have an eye on teaching high school or college sometime in the not-so-distant future, I still adore my days in the classroom with my fifth graders and am blessed to be doing something that I love and something that I’ve dreamed about doing since childhood.

In addition, I’m working with some of the finest teachers who I have ever known, and together, I feel like we are making enormous differences in the lives of children.

My DJ company remains successful after 17 years in business. While I am doing considerably fewer weddings than in previous years, this is by choice, and it has made the business much more enjoyable. We are only working with clients who we choose at venues we know and like.

My writing career continues to prosper. My fourth novel will publish sometime next year. My fifth is nearly complete and already in the hands of my agent, as is a memoir about my last season of golf and the start of a more traditional memoir about the struggles that I have experienced throughout my life. I also have a on-the-side novel that I am pecking away at now and then that I like a lot.

  

In addition to all this, I am fortunate enough to be paid for tutoring gigs, speaking gigs and a variety of other side jobs. Finding work is not been a problem for me, and I know how fortunate I am for this.   

4. I am thankful for The Moth, the storytelling organization that allowed me to take a stage two years ago and tell my first story. Since that day, I have competed in more than 20 StorySLAMs, 3 GrandSLAMs and a Mainstage show. My stories have appeared on the Moth’s Radio Hour and their weekly podcast, and I’ve been fortunate enough to win 10 StorySLAM competitions so far.

This success has opened doors to storytelling opportunities with organizations like The Story Collider, Literary Death Match, The Mouth and more, and this year led to the launch of Speak Up, the storytelling organization that Elysha and I produce in Hartford.

It’s amazing how something that did not exist in my life three years ago is suddenly such a enormous part of my life now.

5. I am thankful for my friends, a collection of honest, direct, intelligent, successful people who miraculously accept me for who I am and stand by me in times of trouble.

6. I am thankful for the Patriots, a team suffering from a series of near-catastrophic injuries yet have given me something to cheer about.

7. I am thankful for canned, jellied cranberry sauce. We should eat much more of this throughout the year.

8. I am thankful for Bill Bryson, William Shakespeare, Stephen King, Nicholson Baker, JK Rowling, Jasper Fforde, Mark Twain, Nora Ephron, Billy Collins, David Sedaris and Kurt Vonnegut and a dozen others who I have shamefully forgotten to mention. These are writers who continue to entertain and inspire me every day.

I’m also thankful for the many, many writers who I have gotten to know over the past 5 years who have shared so much, taught me more and generously offered their hands in friendship. 

9. I am thankful for Bluetooth headphones and the limitless supply of podcasts and music that pour forth from them on a daily basis.

10. I am thankful for puddles in the driveway, so that I can watch my daughter splash in them.

11. I am thankful for pickup basketball and the occasional collisions in flag football.

I’d be thankful for tackle football if I could find someone to play with me.

12. I am thankful for Kaleigh, a dog who can admittedly annoy us to no end but is the only other living being willing to climb out of bed at 4:00 AM with me and head downstairs to work. Almost every sentence that I compose is written with Kaleigh underfoot.

13. I’m thankful for Owen, our twenty pound bulimic house cat who wakes us in the middle of the night and bites us from time to time but accepts all of our children’s poking and prodding and full-body hugs with patience and love.

14. I’m thankful for our many babysitters, and especially Allison, who take such amazing care of our children when we are gallivanting about.

15. I’m thankful for my literary agent, my film agent, my editor, the booksellers of the world and all the other bookish and entertainment professionals who make my sentences sound gooder and help my stories find their way into readers’ hands.

16. I’m thankful for golf.

17. I’m thankful for my family. A father who I am finally beginning to know. A brother who is back in my life after many years apart. A sister who should be writing more. Aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews and cousins who my children are getting to know. And my wife’s family, who have taken me in and made me feel like a part of their family.

My family situation has never been the most stable and normal one in the world, but I’m fortunate nonetheless.

This piece in Slate by Allison Benedikt is ridiculous link bait. It’s also offensive to my children.

I love Slate. I probably read Slate more than anything else on the Internet. But occasionally Slate publishes pieces that amount to nothing more than link bait, and Allison Benedikt’s piece entitled No Thanksgivukkah: The portmanteau holiday is bad for Jews and bad for America, is clearly one of them.

Bad for America? The hyperbole in the subtitle alone is ridiculous, and it’s an argument that she fails to address at any point in the piece.

Not once is her perceived threat to America discussed.

Pure, unadulterated link bait. I should stop right there. This alone should be indictment enough. But I’ll proceed, because I was so annoyed by this piece.  

As you may know, Thanksgiving and Hanukkah overlap this year for the first time in 125 years this year. This won’t happen for another 70,000 years, so even the need for making an argument like this is questionable at best.

Get over it, Benedikt. It’s one year.

But the rationale behind Benedikt’s objections are just as ridiculous, probably because link bait is hard to write. If it’s not hyperbolic nonsense, readers won’t click. But hyperbolic nonsense is difficult to pass off as rational. 

Benedikt has three objections to Thanksgivukkah. Here they are in the order that she presents them:

I don’t want my kids to think Thanksgiving is a “present holiday.”

And while Thanksgivukkah is a once-in-a-lifetime occurrence, I guarantee that every little Jewish boy and girl who gets a gift on Thursday will, going forward, expect gifts on the fourth Thursday of November—forever.

Ridiculous. Jewish children will receive presents immediately after the lighting of the candles as a part of Hanukkah,, as it has been done every year before. The traditional will remain the same, except that it will be buffered by turkey and stuffing. Unless you wrap the child’s gift in the turkey carcass, it will be crystal clear that these presents have nothing to do with the Pilgrims, cranberry sauce or football.

Even if there are children who are stupid or monstrous enough to expect gifts the following year, they will not receive them, thus ending all future expectations.

As parents, we say no and move on.

And let’s be realistic. This isn’t going happen. Perhaps the most demonic and materialistic children might expect gifts for one additional year, but these monsters are few and far between, and their expectations will only last one year. For children of such ill repute, this kind of  disappointment is probably needed and deserved.

I also find it  fairly offensive to assume that my children will expect gifts on Thanksgiving next year, which Benedikt does when she “guarantees” that “every little Jewish boy and girl… will expect gifts on the fourth Thursday of November—forever.”

Hyperbole? Probably. But don’t lump my children into your exaggeration. I am confident that many, many little Jewish girls and boys are smart enough to understand the difference between the two holidays, even when they overlap, including my own. Leave my kids out of your link bait. You insult them and all their sensible brethren when you do so. 

Sweet and sour braised brisket with cranberry sauce is an abomination.

The argument here is that Jewish food and Thanksgiving Day food does not mix well.

I realize how important food is to the Jewish tradition, but the need to bifurcate these food items lest they be ruined is obviously stupid.

Because my favorite thing about Thanksgiving is that it’s secular.

Allison Benedikt is a Jewish woman married to an atheist man who celebrates the traditions of Christmas. This describes our family as well. My wife is Jewish, and I am a reluctant atheist who loves Santa, Christmas trees and holiday music.

Benedikt struggles with the issues surrounding these religious differences, as did her parents for a time. She expresses as much on a recent podcast, and it’s also hinted at in her piece.

But this sounds like much more of a personal problem for Benedikt than one that impacts a large number of people. It’s really not hard to differentiate between the two holidays, even when they fall on the same day.

It’s really not hard at all.

Besides, in my experience, Hanukkah is celebrated in most Jewish homes for about 15 minutes every night.

Maybe longer if dinner is part of the celebration.

Light some candles, say a prayer, open a gift, and perhaps eat a traditional Jewish meal on one or more of the nights. In fact, I have been told on many occasions (sometimes with great vehemence) that Hanukkah is actually a minor Jewish holiday that has only gained notoriety because of its proximity to Christmas and the desire for retail establishments to capture the Jewish consumer as well.

The overlap between the two holidays is hardly daylong. 

Benedikt suspects that she is not alone in her desire for the secular and the religious to remain separate, and I agree. But I also think that she’s in a minority, and it’s a minority that has yet to work through their religious differences with themselves and their spouses. When it’s “a relief it is to have this one major holiday that isn’t in some part about what I am and my husband is not (Jewish), or what he is and I’m not (Christmas-celebrating),” you haven’t exactly embraced the religious diversity in your home.

Instead of worrying about explaining to your kids why mom believes this and dad believes that, why not just embrace a multi-religious view in which all religious views are treated equally, absent any pressure for anyone to conform?

If that seems too radical, remember that this threat to Jews and America will not happen again for another 70,000 years.

Grin and bear it for 24 hours.

Failing as a father

Me: “Clara, do you have to go potty?”

Daughter: “No, that’s not my potty dance. That’s my silly-willy dance. Can’t you tell the difference?”

Me: “I didn’t know you have a silly-willy dance.”

Clara: “Oh Daddy… c’mon.”

The Pope and an old lady in parking lot

On Saturday morning an older woman spotted me wearing gym shorts in a parking lot and said, “Put some pants on! Who do you think you are?”

As with all rhetorically rude questions, I answered as specifically as possible. “I’m Matthew Dicks. Kind of a strange question, but would you like to see my driver’s license.”

To her credit, she smiled.

In my defense, I wear whatever the hell I want and often dress for where I will be and not the brief interludes between my car and my destination place.

Also, I was going to the gym after my shopping was done. I was dressed for exercise.

It turns out that she wasn’t the only older person complaining about the clothing choices of strangers last week.  

On Sunday the Pope was overheard shouting, “It’s cold! Are you nuts?” at  someone wearing short sleeves in winter.

Old people can be so annoying when it comes staying warm. Just because your body is old and can’t keep you warm anymore doesn’t mean you should impose your clothing expectations on others.

Best tweet ever

A reader from parts unknown tweeted this yesterday and made my heart soar:

I miss my book “The memoirs of an imaginary friend” ….whoever who stole it … i pray that your butt grow wings –_-

I offered to send a signed copy. Still waiting to hear back.

I split my pants EIGHT YEARS AGO. Strangers are still talking about it.

Not surprising: My wife knew the people sitting behind us at dinner last night. She’s knows everyone.

Surprising: One of the women in the party asked if I was the elementary school teacher who once split his pants in front of his class.

Surprising because the splitting of my pants in front of my class happened eight years ago when I attempted to stand atop a student’s desk to make a point. I raised and planted by first foot on the desk top with relative ease but heard the unholy sound of tearing fabric as I attempted to propel my other leg forward.

That was eight years ago, and the moment wasn’t publicized in the local newspaper and did not appear on the evening news.

Word just got around.

I shudder to think what other stories might be alive and well in the general public.