Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 480
March 11, 2013
It’s not backwards. It’s fashion forward.
My daughter believes that shirts are designed to be worn whatever way she wants. This shirt, for example, was designed by the manufacturer so that the dog would be on the front of the shirt.
Clara decided to wear it with the dog on the back because, in her words, “I don’t feel like looking at that dog today.”
She assumes this option with all her clothing.
I love this about my daughter. In the words of a parent at a recent toddler birthday, “Your daughter truly views the world as her own.”
This was a polite way of pointing out that while all the other children were happily engaged in organized party games, Clara was in the kitchen, pretending to bake a cake.
She rarely participates in organized, rules-based play when it can be avoided.
My wife will tell you that she gets this rejection of social norms from her father, but don’t let her fool you. This is coming from a woman who once wore aluminum foil in her hair in middle school because she thought it looked good.
As I’ve written about before, Elysha is a radical nonconformist. She’s just more subtle than me about it.
Good or bad, Clara’s nonconformity is the combination of both her father’s and her mother’s genes.
March 10, 2013
Please settle a bet between my wife and me: Did you ever walked the railroad tracks at least once as a child?
Yesterday, I wondered aloud how the railroad companies keep snow off the tracks. It turns out that they use plows attached to train engines to clear the tracks.
Before I was able to check Google for the answer, Elysha suggested that the tracks might be heated.
“No,” I said. “Can you imagine the amount of energy that would be required to heat all that track? Besides, haven’t you walked the train tracks before? They’re not even warm.”
“No,” she said, looking at me like I was insane. “I’ve never walked the train tracks before.”
I feel like I spent half my childhood walking along railroad tracks. Balancing on the rails. Placing pennies on the tracks to see what would happen when the train passed over them. Racing across train trestles.
It was just something that kids did.
Something that most kids did, I argued. Perhaps not today with increased parental vigilance and the tragic restrictions on childhood freedom, but twenty years ago or more, when children were still allowed to roam free, didn’t most of you walk along the train tracks at least once?
I say yes. I say that Elysha is in an extreme minority of people who have never even stood on the railroad tracks.
She disagrees.
Please settle this bet for us.
J.Crew Crew
Some brilliant person has taken the J.Crew catalog and used the images to create three minute narratives that are both funny and, in the words of one commenter, “de-mythologize the vaguely-exotic-yet-comfortable-and-assured lifestyles and identities marketed to our authenticity-seeking culture.
It appears that about four of these have been made so far, but I still love the first one the most.
The only problem with the project is the name. While admittedly clever, it’s almost impossible to find these videos without accidentally landing on an actual J.Crew webpage.
Otherwise, they are near perfection.
J.Crew Crew Episode 1: The Honeymoon? from Meghan O’Neill on Vimeo.
March 9, 2013
I love it when deserving people are made to look stupid.
My “novel in the drawer” (the book I wrote two years ago and am keeping in reserve for a rainy day) is the story of a vigilante of sorts who is desperate to remain unidentified by his community. He enacts his brand of vigilante justice through acts of public shaming.
His name is Wyatt.
Wyatt would freakin’ love Dove’s recent guerilla marketing campaign.
I do, too.
Luckiest man on the planet
March 8, 2013
Don’t call yourself old
Yesterday I heard a friend who is about my age say, “Kids today are just so disrespectful.”
I laughed. I have yet to meet a student more disrespectful than my friends and I were as children.
Earlier in the week another friend said, “I’m old. Okay? The days of staying awake past 1o:00 are over for me.”
I laughed again. I suspect that my friend’s inability to stay awake past 10:00 has less to do with her age (she’s still in her thirties) and more to do with her sedentary existence. If you’re watching four hours of television a day and rarely exercising, it’s not surprising that you’re exhausted at 10:00 PM.
What reason do you even have for staying awake?
In both cases, I couldn’t help but think about how old my friends sound, even though both have yet to reach the ripe old age of 40.
Sadly, this is nothing new. It seems like complaining about one’s advanced years has become more and more common for people in my age bracket, and I am always shocked at how quickly and agreeably people seem to acquiesce to the idea that they are getting old.
Perhaps it’s simply denial, but I feel younger today than I have ever felt before, and I have never once said that I feel old or complained about my age. Doing so has always struck me as surrendering. Giving up. Taking the first step into the grave.
It turns out that my instincts (or serious case of denial) are backed by science.
A study published today in the Journal of Eating Disorders finds that women of all ages complain about being old, and that calling yourself old can make you feel as bad about your body as calling yourself fat. The research links so called “old talk” to greater levels of body dissatisfaction, which can in turn lead to higher rates of eating disorders, anxiety, depression and more physical and mental health problems.
It turns out that even if you feel old, you shouldn’t be talking about it. Doing so can be detrimental to your wellbeing.
While I admit that my avoidance of “old talk” is intentional (and my detestation for it is universal), it’s true that I feel younger today than ever before.
I suspect that the reasons are threefold:
1. My children make me feel young. The endless games of tag with my daughter, the rolling and tumbling on the floors with both kids and the crawling and scraping and sliding through playground equipment often have me feeling like a kid again.
If you’re feeling old, go play with your kids like you are a kid.
2. As a teacher in an elementary school, I often find myself wrapped up in the pursuits of the young. I play four square with the kids at recess. I jump on the stage in the classroom and perform Shakespeare alongside them. I write ridiculous poems and tell crazy stories from my childhood in order to keep them entertained and motivated. I trade merciless barbs with them and laugh at their terrible jokes. All this allows me to remain intimately connected with childhood.
If you’re feeling old, spend more time with children doing the things that children do.
3. My professional life is busier and more fulfilling today than ever before. Between teaching, writing, storytelling, my small business and a myriad of other projects that I have going, I feel more present and connected to the world than ever before.
If you’re feeling old, turn off the television and pursue an honest-to-goodness passion. Paint. Write. Mountain bike. Design an iPhone app. Start a small business with a friend. Become the world record holder in jumping jacks. Volunteer. Do something, damn it.
Just don’t talk about how old you are. For your own sake as well as mine.
A future protagonist, perhaps.
This odd and fascinating man, who spent untold hours creating a device to remove the filling from an Oreo cookie, is just the kind of person you might find in one of my books.
March 7, 2013
Speak Up: True Stories. Real People.
Back in January, I announced our intention to launch a local storytelling series here in Connecticut, modeled loosely after The Moth, the organization in New York City that hosts the storytelling events in which I compete on a regular basis.
We have made significant progress since January, and I thought I’d share.
First, we have a name:
We also have a Facebook page that you should “like” if you want to receive updates on our upcoming and future events.
Most important, our first event will take place on Saturday, May 4 at 7:00 PM at Real Art Ways in Hartford, CT. There is no admission cost. Real Art Ways will be selling beer, wine and food that evening if you are interested in partaking.
Please save the date.
We have a lineup of seven fantastic storytellers who will each be telling 5-10 minute stories on the topic of Beginnings. They are Jim Bengiovanni, Ellen Dollar, Rachel Weiner, Okey Ndibe, Plato Karafelis, Kim Damokosh and myself.
My wife and partner in this project, Elysha, will be hosting the event that evening.
We are also looking for some assistance from anyone who is willing to volunteer their time and expertise.
Specifically, we would like to record the stories that night. I have several less-than-sophisticated ways of doing this, but if someone with greater expertise than myself could help us figure out the best way to record these stories on audio, or even better, volunteer to handle the recording that evening, we would be forever grateful.
Also, we’d love to have an official photographer for the evening. A professional or semi-professional if at all possible. If someone would like to volunteer their services, that would be wonderful, too.
More to come as we get closer to the event! We’re hoping for a standing-room-only crowd that night, so if you live in Connecticut, please consider joining us for this inaugural event!
Best basketball shot ever
The thing I like best about this amazing, incredible, unbelievable, never-to-be-duplicated basketball shot is that it only happens because an opposing player (our antagonist) is overconfident in his supposed victory and therefore careless with the ball, and our protagonist (and my new hero) never gives up hope even in the face of overwhelming odds and almost certain defeat.
It’s the combination of victory and defeat that I like best.
The triumph of pluck and determination.
The knowledge that the brash and careless have suffered for their arrogance.
Not to mention it’s the most incredible shot I’ve ever seen.
March 6, 2013
The Matthew Dicks Treatise on Humility
When it comes to humility, I try to abide by these five rules:
Be confident about the things that you know and do well. People want to know and believe in experts.
Shut up if you don’t know what you’re talking about.
Acknowledge that regardless of your expertise, you have more to learn.
Acknowledge that your accomplishments did not happen without the help of others or through the graces of blind luck.
Don’t ever be arrogant enough to name a treatise after yourself.