Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 446

Monty Python and the Holy Grail: Twenty-first century style

On Friday night I will be telling a story at the Mark Twain House for The Mouth, a Hartford-based storytelling series.

The story will include a mention of Monty Python and the Holy Grail. In fact, the film plays a pivotal role in the story.

Coincidentally, my wife sent me this today: A modern day trailer of the film.

Not nearly as funny as the actual film, but then again, few things are.

“A two mommy family”

My wife posted this to Facebook a couple days ago. I was thrilled at the time, but the more I’ve thought about it over the past couple days, the more hopeful I become.

At the playground this afternoon Clara was pretending to be a princess and I was her mother, the queen. My friend and her son joined us and Clara asked if they’d play our game. I asked who they should be, and Clara said Liam would be a prince and Joyce could also be a queen.

“We’ll be a two mommy family. Joyce will be the other mommy.”

I love that she thinks nothing of it and it’s so normal for her. Makes me feel hopeful.

Thrilled (and possibly giddy as a schoolgirl) for a friend

ESPN’s “This Is SportsCenter” is among the handful of classic sports ad campaigns of all time. Launched in 1995 by Wieden and Kennedy, the campaign—originally inspired by the mockumentary This Is Spinal Tap—has become a cult hit for anyone who follows sports on ESPN.

“Have you seen the latest ‘This is SportsCenter’ commercial?” has been a refrain often heard amongst me and my friends for years.

The most recent “This is SportsCenter” commercial may be my favorite of all time. It features tennis champion Rafael Nadal, but more importantly, it features my friend and SportsCenter anchor Bram Weinstein.

Knowing Bram’s humble, low key nature, I’m probably more excited about his appearance in this commercial than he is. For me, these commercials have been a fixture in my life for almost 20 years. They have been a source of hilarity and genius. Only the best and brightest have had the opportunity to appear in them.

Perhaps when you’re immersed in the industry, these commercials seem slightly less glamorous and awe-inspiring, but for someone like me on the outside, the idea that a friend could one day appear in one of these commercials is absolutely thrilling. Unbelievable, really. 

And he’s great in it, too.

Cruelty and humor wrapped up in one of the best Internet videos of all time

I am of two minds on this:

1. This is insanely cruel and the perpetrators should be sued and possibly jailed for their actions

2. This is the most brilliant prank I have seen in a long, long time, and it is one of the best things I have ever seen on the Internet.

It’s odd how cruelty and brilliance are often so intertwined, at least for me..

Two pieces of only slightly snarky advice for wedding photographers (and the couples hiring them)

Another wedding season has drawn to a close. Now that my DJ partner and I don’t advertise and actively turn away weddings that don’t appeal to us, we are doing considerably fewer gigs each year.

We did a total of 8 weddings this year, down from our record total of 48 several years ago when we were actively pursuing business and promoting our company. I served as minister and DJ at last weekend’s wedding, a dual role that I seem to be doing a lot lately.

People apparently like the one-stop shopping aspect of the DJ/minister.

Even though I’ve only worked 8 weddings this year, I am not without a handful of stories, wedding advice and lessons learned from my 17th year as a wedding DJ.

Here are two pieces of advice for wedding photographers:

If the number of photographers on the dance floor during the newlyweds’ first dance meets or exceeds the number of people actually dancing, you have done something seriously wrong. Guests should not be craning their necks around two or more photographers in order to catch a glimpse of the bride and groom dancing.

At my most recent wedding, for example, the bride and groom enjoyed their first dance while two photographers stood side by side with them on the dance floor, less than 10 feet away,and a third stood just off the dance floor, also obstructing the guests.

At the most, there should be one photographer on the dance floor at any one time, and if the dance floor is small enough (as this one was), is it too much to ask to stand just off the dance floor for most, if not all, of their dance?

The cake cut is not a photo-shoot. It is a ceremonial event that should be enjoyed by the bride and groom with minimal intrusion from any of their vendors. As such, wedding photographers should not be the ones directing the newlyweds through the cake cutting process. The result is often a stilted, disjointed affair that provides the photographers with ideally posed shots and superior angles but strips the fun of the experience from the bride and groom. If you need to pose a shot or two before the cake cutting begins, fine. But then back the hell away.

At my most recent wedding, the photographers directed the entire cake cut, nudging me out of the process entirely.

There were three of them. I was outnumbered.

As a result, the bride and groom’s every move was choreographed, paused, adjusted and paused again before proceeding. It wasn’t a cake cut. It was a series of frozen moments designed to maximize the photographer’s performance.

Not cool.

September storytelling

A few upcoming events for anyone interested:

I’ll be telling a story on Friday evening at 7:00 at the Mark Twain House for The Mouth, a storytelling organization run by NPR’s Chion Wolf. The theme of the night is Luck and Serendipity. Tickets are $5 and can be purchased via the Mark Twain House’s website.

Our second Speak Up storytelling event is on September 28 at 7:00 at Real Art Ways in Hartford. This event is free of charge. Eight storytellers, including myself, will be telling true stories on the theme Schooled: Lessons Taught and Lessons Learned. We have an exciting lineup of storytellers, including local talent as well storytelling veterans from New York City who are making the trek to Hartford to entertain us.

My wife, Elysha, is emceeing the event. 

If you plan on coming, please let us know via our Facebook page.

I’ll also be attending The Moth’s StorySLAM on Monday, September 30 at The Bitter End in New York City with hopes of telling a story on the theme Promises. 

Little boy and big boy

When I look back at the scant few photographs of me and my father from when I was a baby, I see the grainy images of an adult and his baby boy.

A grown man and his infant son.

I can’t help but wonder:

When my son is older, will he look back on photos like these and think the same?

 

Because I don’t. I look at these photos and see a big boy holding his little boy.

I know that I’m a grownup. I own a home. I have a career (or three). I’m a  responsible citizen who has been living on his own and taking care of himself ever since he was eighteen years old.

Even so, it’s still such a stretch for me to think of myself an honest-to-goodness adult.

Will Charlie look at these photos someday and feel differently?

Summer days gone again

The leaves are threatening to change color at any moment. There is a chill in the air. Fall is upon us.

As the winter months approach, I will make a point of looking back on these two photos and recall the joy that was our summer.

I can’t wait for the next one.

 

For almost a day, I almost thought of myself as an honest-to-goodness author. Then they took all the books away.

On Wednesday afternoon, I walked into my local Stop & Shop to pick up a few things. I was feeling grumpy for a number of reasons (some legitimate) and plowing through the aisles like I wanted to hunt down and kill someone.

My local Stop & Shop has a large, wide, well stocked book aisle, placed gloriously in the center of the store.  Ever since 2009, when I published my first novel, I have walked down this aisle every time I entered the store, hoping to one day spot one of my books on the shelves.

As a result of my especially foul mood, I didn’t spend the usual minute or two staring at the books in this aisle. For the first time in a long time, I walked up the magazine side of the aisle, head down, mind on other things, ignoring the books entirely.

But then I stopped short. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted it. My book. Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend, on the shelf, flanked by two books that I had read and loved.

 

I couldn’t believe it. I stared at it from across the aisle with my mouth hanging open.

Days later, I still can’t believe it.

My books can be found in bookstores throughout the country. I find my novels in independent bookstores and big box stores like Barnes & Noble all the time. Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend has been translated into more than 20 languages and can be found worldwide in more than three dozen countries. Readers send me photos of my books on the shelves in stores as far away as Australia, South Africa and Southeast Asia. They find my books in airports, museums and retailers like Target.

I am very fortunate. If you want a copy of any of my books, they are not too hard to find.

But until Wednesday, I had never seen my book in my local grocery store, and for some reason, this was a big deal to me.

As the author of three novels and a fourth on the way, I have yet to feel like I’ve arrived. Despite the success that I have enjoyed, I continue to feel like an outsider. A rookie. An interloper. I continue to worry that every book will be my last. I fear that readers and publishers will soon discover that I am a fraud. A trickster. Someone who has gotten lucky a few times but lacks the literary chops for a sustained career.

I can’t imagine not feeling like this. Perhaps it’s a good thing.

But seeing my book on the grocery store shelf was something special for me. It’s the place where I see books being sold most often. It’s the place where I stop most frequently to see who is on top. Which books are selling. Which authors are worthy of these prized spots.

To find my book on this shelf was a sliver of validation that I might actually make it as an author someday.

I went back the next day because my bank also happens to be inside the grocery store. After making my deposit, I headed over to the book aisle to enjoy another glimpse of my book in all its glory. Instead, I discovered that the once-glorious book aisle at the center of the store was gone. Just one day after finally finding my book on its shelves, all the books were gone. The shelves were gone. The entire aisle was in rubble.

I turned to an employee and asked, “What happened to all the books?”

“Oh,” she said. “They’re remodeling the whole store. I think they’ll be back in about a month. At the end of aisle 8, I think.”

The end of aisle 8. No longer in the epicenter of the store. No more wide aisle. No more expansive selection.

Just like that, my book and its shelf were gone.

So much for the validation.

Best hurricane naming system ever

I love this idea. It’s brilliant. It’s hilarious. It may not change minds, but it might shame and embarrass the criminally stupid and make the rest of us laugh in the process.

Sadly, radical ideas like this rarely see the light of day.