Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 432

It’s okay to make fun of fat people, but only if they are really, really fat.

Sarah Palin stated that although she is against bullying, it’s understandable people comment on New Jersey Governor Chris Christie’s weight because it’s “been extreme.”

Apparently there a designated threshold on mocking people who are overweight, and Chris Christie exceeds it.

I’m not sure what that threshold is, but thankfully Sarah Palin does. Maybe she’ll share that magic number with us sometime soon.

Palin has a new book out entitled Good Tidings and Great Joy: Protecting the Heart of Christmas.

It’s not often that I advise people to not buy a book, but based upon her comments about Christie’s weight, she may not be qualified (as has been the case with most things that Sarah Palin does) to comment on the spirit of Christmas and the notion of good tidings.

Her first blank page

It’s not often that you get the chance to see a writer’s first blank page.

But this is it. The first time my daughter sat down to write a story.

She still can’t write words yet, and she may not become a writer, but if she does, this will be the moment that it all began.

6 things you should never talk about, plus 2 of my own

This American Life’s producer Sarah Koenig’s mother lives by a set of rules about conversation, including an actual list of off-limits topics.

I want to go on record as supporting this list wholeheartedly.

The list:

Diet
Health
Your period
Sleep
Dreams
Route talk, which is discussion of the route you took to arrive at your destination.

Of all the items on the list, I find route talk and dreams tied for the most egregious of offenses, but they are all admittedly dreadful. 

She actually has a seventh item on the list, money, which This American Life excludes from the show, and I agree. Discussions about the stock market, the health of certain businesses and even recommendations on how to lower insurance costs or where to buy the cheapest cantaloupe are all fair game.

But I’d like to add two items to the list:

Weather
Sales pitches

While there are occasionally reasons to talk about the weather when it is most extreme, those times are few and far between. Err on the side of caution and find something else to discuss. 

And the last thing I ever want to hear is a sales pitch for the products that you sell or for products that you want me to sell for you as part of some pyramid scheme. While there is nothing wrong with these businesses (except for this), the friends of such salespeople should be awarded a permanent zone of protection from any and all such sales pitches. Otherwise we feel like we are being taken advantage of, ALWAYS, regardless of what assurances we offer that we are do not.

“Get rid of yourself” never sounded so sweet

After reading books to my four year old daughter in her bed, I curled up beside her and snuggled with her. I’d come home late from work and had barely seen her, so I was trying to squeeze out a few extra minutes of father-daughter time. 

We lay beside each other for a few moments, listening to our breathing, and then she said, “Get rid of yourself, Daddy. It’s bedtime.”

Earlier in the night, we were playing tag downstairs when she shouted, “Feet, give me the speed I need!”

I didn’t see much of her today, but she certainly made up for lost time with some memorable quotes.

As a left her bedroom room and turned out her light, I told her I loved her.

Her response: “You betcha I love you, too, Daddy.”

My generation may drive aggressively, swear too often and constantly stare at our phones. but at least we never did this.

I was sitting at a table with three other people, including a man about 20 years older than me. We were discussing professional conduct and manners in today’s world, and the older gentleman was complaining about how “rude and uncivilized” people are today.

“Kids, you mean?” I asked.

“Not just kids. People your age, too. You’ve all loss your sense of civility.”

He went to on talk about the way people from my generation drive aggressively, curse, mistreat the elderly, stare at their phones instead of each other and think more about themselves than anyone else.

I wanted to say something in response to this man’s allegations. Something very specific. But I knew that what I wanted to say might provoke an unfortunate and potentially volatile reaction from the man, so I exercised restraint and said nothing.

For one whole minute.

Then I said it. I couldn’t help it.

After listening to him describe low voter turnout and the shameful decline in civic duty, I said, “At least we don’t spit on our servicemen and women when they return from war.”

“What?” he said. I don’t think he could believe what I’d just said.

I couldn’t believe it either. I’m sure that the other two people at the table couldn’t believe what I’d said it, either. Both shrunk back into their chairs and attempted to become invisible.

Nevertheless, I pressed on. “We may stare at our phones too much and swear too much for your liking, but my generation doesn’t spit on soldiers returning from war like your generation did to Vietnam veterans like my father.”

It’s an argument I’ve come close to saying before to people older than me who seem to take pleasure in glamorizing the good old days and complaining about today’s generation while forgetting that no days are all good. But I’ve always held back, viewing it as the nuclear option.

This man caught me on a bad day.

As expected, he was angry with my response and denied ever doing such a thing. He also went on to argue to that not everyone from his generation treated Vietnam veterans poorly, and that it was “a different time in this country.”

“Of course,” I said. “Not everyone in my generation swears too much, either. We’re too busy ending the discrimination against gay people that your highly civilized generation perpetuated.”

At this, the man stood up and moved to another table.

Neither person at my table engaged me in conversation after that, though one of them offered me a small but approving smile.

The nuclear option can often leave you as radioactive as the words that you said, as was the case here. No one at the table wanted anything to do with me.

This incident occurred about two weeks ago. At the time, I expected to reflect upon the incident and possibly regret my words.

But I don’t. At least not yet.

It wasn’t the best forum to drop a bomb like that, and I know that my response made the other people at the table uncomfortable, but I can only be told that my generation sucks for so long before I need to respond.

Maybe it’s true that my generation sucked, but what generation didn’t?

Besides, I grew up in the midst of the Cold War. The nuclear option is something I lived with for a long time. It only makes sense that I would use it from time to time.

What kind of jerk complains about a little music at dinnertime?

AC Peterson’s, a family restaurant in West Hartford, Connecticut, invites performers from the adjacent theater to sing show tunes on Monday evenings to their diners. Three or four young talented men and women walk around the restaurant with a microphone, singing songs from shows like West Side Story, Annie and The Sounds of Music, collecting tips in a large jar as they do so.

I’ve always found the whole thing a little annoying. With the music playing and the performers singing, it makes conversation difficult.

Then this happened, and I realized what a complete and total jerk I was being.

Don’t mess with Charlie

My daughter, Clara, speaking to one of her friends:

“I know you’re not good with babies, but my brother, Charlie, is the best baby in the whole world.”

Clara may just be the best big sister in the world, too.

There are simply too many excellent religions to choose from today.

When I was about ten years-old, my mother brought me to my first CCD class. I came home from that experience and declared that I was no longer a Catholic.

To my mother’s credit, she accepted this declaration but told me that I needed to have some kind religion in my life.

So began the process of allowing her son to choose his religion.

She brought me to several churches in the area over the next few weeks, allowing me to experience services at each one. I ultimately chose a Protestant Congregationalist church in my hometown because of it was the most basic, stripped down version of religion that I could find.

The minister also addressed the children during the service with a sermon of their own.

Just imagine: A parent not imposing her own beliefs upon her child.

It’s hard to fathom.

Unfortunately, religion did not stick with me. Today I am a reluctant atheist who would love to believe in a higher power but who finds himself unable to do so.

This is essentially how I felt when I was ten years-old, so little has changed since then.

I can’t help but think that had I been choosing a religion today, however, the choices would’ve been much more interesting.

There is The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, of course, which worships the Flying Spaghetti Monster and strongly opposes the teaching of creationism in public schools. I actually own the Gospel of the Flying Spaghetti Monster and have read it cover-to-cover at least twice and find it quite compelling, and I’m considering becoming an ordained minster of the Church, even though I am also an ordained minister of the Universal Life Church.

Then there is the Jedi Church, based upon the philosophy espoused in the Star Wars films which purports that there is one all powerful force that binds all things in the universe together. It may sound silly, but it’s currently the largest alternative religion in the world and the seventh most popular religion in the UK ,with hundreds of thousands of followers worldwide.

Had The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster or The Jedi Church existed when I was ten years-old, I might have been slightly more excited about my search for religion.

And now there is a theology class at Rutger’s University which studies the work of Bruce Springsteen. While not an actual religion (yet!), I would’ve loved the opportunity to study the work of my favorite musician in a religious context.

Who knows? Had this class existed when I was younger, maybe I could’ve founded the first Church of Thunder Road.

Hide-and-Seek’s return to glory.

There was a time when I thought that Hide-and-Seek was the greatest game ever played. These were the days when my siblings and I would hide in places like the dryer, the dishwasher, the ledge overhanging the staircase, underneath the car parked in the driveway or in a tree.

Then Hide-and-Seek ceased to be so amusing. Sports, videogames and pursuits like fishing took its place.

Life has finally come full circle. Hide-and-Seek has regained its former glory for me once again. It’s one of my favorite games, and unlike my childhood, the hider and seeker roles are equally appealing, for reasons that will be made obvious in these videos.    

My new favorite writer and her amazing piece: Ashton Kutcher Fan Fiction – The Middle School Dance

Lisa Bell has graduated high school by now and hopefully moved onto college, but I don’t care. She was a hero back in seventh grade, and I’m sure that she’s still amazing today, wherever she is.

Everything about this performance, starting with the moment that she corrects the teacher for misidentifying her until the very last moment, is amazing.  

Also, let this serve as a reminder for teachers to always take the time to review what a student is going to read on stage prior to the performance, lest you want something like this to ever happen again, which was both slightly unfortunate and seriously AWESOME.