Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 502

Space is suddenly a lot less impressive

It sounds impressive, but in the end, all you need is a weather balloon, a video camera and a GPS tracker.

And if you don’t require video footage of the historic moment, you only need the balloon and the tracker.

For less than $200, you, too, could be the first person to put a food item in space.

I’d send up broccoli, because that would mean there was one less broccoli here on Earth.  

Six perfect words that killed me.

I was gone from 6:30 AM this morning until 6:30 PM this evening because of parent teacher conferences.

It was a long day.

It was also the third day in a row that I have been away from home for twelve hours or more.

As I was getting Clara in her pajamas tonight, I asked her what she did today.

She replied, “I waited all day for you.”

My daughter is the only person in the world who can cause my heart to soar while breaking it at the same time.

 

My wife was right. You were right. But I was a little right, too.

Yesterday I wrote about my recent decision to invent a word while in a debate with another person in order to determine his intelligence.

My assumption was that if he ignored the invented word and pretended that he understood its meaning, I could rightfully assume he was an idiot.

My wife, and about 85% of my readers, disagreed with me, oftentimes with vehemence.

Rather than responding individually via Facebook, Twitter, email and the comments on the post itself, I thought I’d write another post in response.

Here goes.

First, as for the comments about the typos on the post (and other posts), these were the only responses that annoyed me (perhaps because I received so many of them).

Yes, I proofread my blog. My wife proofreads my blog as well. But proofreading does not guarantee the elimination of typos, especially when one is writing everyday and posting on the same day.

To suggest that proofreading is not happening or that I am careless is just silly. Anyone who writes knows that our own typos are the most difficult to see. There is a reason that professional copyeditors and proofreaders exist. This is the reason. Proofreading is not an easy job. It requires a special skill set that I do not possess. 

However, if you are ever annoyed by a typo on this blog, please know that I am at least as annoyed as you are. I despise typos with every fiber of my being. When I see a typo a day, a week or a month after publishing a post, it embarrasses me to think about how many people have already read the post and seen the error. Therefore I encourage you to inform me about typos by any means you so choose. I want to know about them and am never offended when a reader points them out. I am only eternally grateful. 

Okay, onto the crux of the argument.

First, most of you agree with my wife in her assertion that inventing a word for the purposes of determining intelligence is mean-spirited. In rereading the post, I realize that my mistake was twofold.

First, I failed to acknowledge that I agree with my wife’s assertion. I agree that the purposeful use of an invented word to determine intelligence is mean-spirited.

Second, I failed to inform the reader that the person with whom I was debating was acting like a jerk and a blowhard. I was not engaged in a civil discussion about the merits of one educational policy over another. Instead, I was in a heated argument with someone who was at least as mean-spirited as me.

In this circumstance, I was not trying to be nice. I was in a heated debate with a person who was being equally impolite. While it might be inappropriate for me use this tactic on a friend or colleague (as much as I may be tempted), I was debating a person who I did not know well and who was engaged in verbal fisticuffs with me.

We were really going at it.

Yes, it was mean. I agree. I just don’t think I am required to be polite or forthright when engaged in this kind of argument with a person who I barely know.

You may disagree on this point. If so, I can respect that. 

As for the effectiveness of the tactic, I think that many of the people who responded are correct in asserting that this is hardly an effective means of determining intelligence.

Readers responded:

I have found in my life their are many words I may not know but go by context of the sentence to come to a reasonable conclusion as to what a word may mean.

It’s also possible that the person thought you were using a word you did not understand and wanted to save you the embarrassment of bringing it up. Maybe they were just being polite.

Your debate opponent didn’t wish to embarrass you by confronting you about your made-up word and so you appear to them to be the dolt. I have actually been in this situation – hearing someone make up a word, create an unintentional malapropism, or simply mispronounce a common word (in one case the common word being “rice pilaf” in which they reversed the vowel sounds in “pilaf”). I had to choose whether or not to help them out of their blunder or maintain professional courtesy.

It’s possible that the guy wasn’t even listening in the first place. That happens to me all the time.

Maybe he thought you were the moron for using a made up word but had the social graces not to embarrass you.

These are all valid arguments, and I agree completely. To expect that this tactic would yield any measure of intelligence was stupid on my part.

There were also readers who thought that my tactic probably made me look like the fool.

Seems to be the person may not wanted to seem stupid by asking the definition. Pretty sure they are telling their friends that you are full of yourself or maybe other choice words!

I regularly have to talk to a guy (work thing) who “thinks” he is the smartest guy on earth. He makes up big words and uses others completely incorrectly. I NEVER get off the phone thinking he’s brilliant and in fact usually hang up the phone thinking he’s an idiot and how sad it is that he doesn’t know it. I obviously agree with your wife here.

Honestly, I’d first think you were an idiot for making up words. In my line of work, people make up words all the time to seem smart. I would also probably go home and look it up just to make sure I’m not the idiot.

These arguments hold considerably less weight with me because the man’s opinion of me in this case was irrelevant. In fact, I often find it advantageous to have my verbal opponent misjudge my abilities. When I debated competitively in college, I would often open the debate with a statement meant to mislead. I might intentionally appear unprepared, ill informed or falsely imply that I would be assuming a position that was easily countered. Going into a debate against an opponent who underestimates you often puts you at an extreme advantage. His opinion that I am an idiot is irrelevant to me and possibly beneficial.

Several people compared my actions to that of a bully, and still others implied that this tactic was nothing more than an attempt to demonstrate my mental superiority over the man. For example:

How does that separate you from any school yard bully? Why is it so important to you to be mentally superior than another?

I agree with all. It seems you are using your intelligence to bully others in this sense.

I’m not quite sure how to feel about these comments and others like them. At its heart, isn’t a debate an attempt to exert your mental superiority over another person? Doesn’t the debater use his or her mental facilitates, expertise of the subject matter, cunning and wit to counter any attempt by his or her opponent to do the same?

Does an attempt to change a mind or at least convince a person that they don’t know what the hell they are talking about amount to verbal bullying?

I’m not sure. I’ll continue to ponder this question.

Lastly, there were at least three people who expressed concern that yesterday’s post and posts similar to it do not serve me well in terms of the sales of books. In short, presenting myself as an unlikable jerk does not make people want to support my writing career. This is an interesting point and one that I have considered quite often over the years.

The question is this:

Should I continue to be as honest as I am on my blog, or does my honesty sometimes do more harm than good?

In thinking about this issue, I was reminded of the number of people at a recent book retreat who expressed appreciation for my honesty. One person said, “You’re just not afraid to tell us how stupid you are.”

When people comment on my level of honesty, I think they are actually talking about my openness. My fellow authors at that retreat were undoubtedly just as honest as I was. They simply did not always opt for full disclosure. They chose not to offer details about their lives that might make they appear like idiots or malcontents.

I have a greater tendency to do exactly that.

One of my friends often says that I “live out loud.” He’s right. For whatever reason, I have always been more willing to share the less appealing aspects of my life and my personality.

Does this hurt book sales? I don’t know.

Perhaps for every person who appreciates my openness and honesty, here is a person who would like me to shut the hell up.

This is also a question I will continue to ponder, though I suspect that little will change in this regard. Like many of the characters in my books, I can only be myself, as unfortunate and ugly and detrimental as that might sometimes seem.

Hopefully you will continue reading about my journey and forgive the occasional outbursts of stupidity.

Why brushing your teeth is important

Clara has given her grandfather credit for teaching her almost everything she knows.

Last week she told me that Gramps taught her how to breathe. Seriously.

Her teachers, her parents and her friends receive zero credit for teaching her anything. It’s not fair. 

But based upon her verbal intonations here, I suspect that this is one time when we can give Gramps some credit:

I say this is a clever verbal strategy for identifying stupidity. My wife says I’m mean and wrong. Settle the debate.

My wife says this is mean.

I think it was brilliant.

I was speaking to a person whose intelligence, at least in regards to the nature of our discussion, was questionable at best. On a whim, I decided to test his knowledge of the subject matter and his overall intelligence by inserting an invented word into a sentence at a critical juncture to see how the person would react.

I said, “The problem with that education policy is that it’s fiscally unsound and pelepanatic.

Pelepanatic was the invented word, and please note that it’s meaning is critical in understanding the nature of my argument. It was not an arbitrary word that had not meaning in terms of the sentence. 

The person to whom I was speaking pressed on without asking about the  invented word, confirming to me that he was an idiot.

Thus I thought I had stumbled upon a remarkable effective strategy for weeding out the morons of the world, but my wife says not so fast.

While ignoring the invented word may suggest certain characteristics of the person, intelligence or general knowledge is not one of them.

Perhaps the person was too embarrassed by his ignorance of the word to  ask for a definition.

Maybe the person used context clues to make an assumption about the definition of the work.

It’s possible that the person took a mental note to find the meaning of the word at another time.

Maybe the person opted not to display weakness in the midst of a debate even if that meant letting the word go undefined.

My wife claims that this newfound strategy is mean and does not serve the purpose intended.

I’m not so sure. I kind of like it. I think it has potential.

Thoughts?

Why nudity sucks and should be avoided at all costs

The ratio of risk-reward when it comes to nudity is similar to that of the risk-reward associated with a helium balloon and a toddler.

While nudity sounds compelling, the actual percentage of people in the world who you would like to see naked is probably less than half.

Considerably less than half.

And the percentage of people in the world who you don’t want to see naked under any circumstances is probably greater than half.

In all likelihood much greater than half.

Therefore, if I was about to pull back a curtain and show you ten randomly-selected people who have removed all of their clothing, you might find yourself curious. Intrigued. Excited. Perhaps even aroused.

But statistically speaking, the odds of you seeing a naked person who you actually want to see naked is low.

Conversely, the odds of you seeing a naked person who you wish you had never seen naked is high.

As a result, the risk-reward ratio of nudity demands that you close your eyes before the curtain is ever drawn back lest your eyes fall upon an image that you can never forget.

Nudity seems compelling in theory, but in practice, it is only compelling under certain circumstances which are sadly less common in the world than you might initially think.

My wife and children are ruining football for me.

I attended the Patriots game on Sunday. The weather was spectacular, the pregame tailgate menu was superb, and most important, the Patriots won.

It was the first game in more than a month for me. I missed both home games in October thanks to my book tour and a wedding.

I was happy to return to Gillette Stadium on Sunday. I love attending Patriots games. When I was young, I made a list of life goals, and one of them was to become a New England Patriots season ticket holder.

I’ve been dreaming about these Sunday afternoons (and occasional Monday nights) for many years.

While attending these games often means the loss of an entire Sunday, there are only eight home games a season (six for me this year), so it isn’t too big a burden.

 

Except now I have a wife and a daughter and a son who inexplicably continue to do fun and cute and memorable things while I am away at the game. Rather than placing themselves in suspended animation or parking themselves on the couch, anxiously awaiting my arrival, they do stuff that I want to do, too. They continue to exist, and I find part of me wanting to exist alongside them.

I miss them, damn it. It’s so annoying.  

Five years ago a day spent at the Patriots game was pure bliss for me.

Now I miss stuff like this, making the games slightly bittersweet. 

  

Unfair assumption #6

A woman at a recent book event was complimented by another woman for the diamond necklace that she was wearing. She thanked the woman for the compliment, and her  husband, who was standing alongside her, explained that his diamond guy designed it especially for his wife.

If you have your own diamond guy, there is little chance that we could ever be friends. 

Three reasons why helium balloons suck

First, there is a serious helium shortage in the world today, and helium is a crucial ingredient in MRI machines, wafer manufacturing, welding. Wasting this precious resource on party balloons is foolish.

Second, the actual balloons are terrible for the environment. Lost balloons end up in the stomachs of animals and marine life, causing suffering and unnecessary death.

But the worst part about helium balloons is the disproportionate level of risk-reward that they offer.

Give a toddler a balloon? The toddler smiles. Maybe laughs. Stares at the balloon in relative joy. 

But a toddler loses a balloon? Accidentally releases it into the sky?

All hell breaks lose. Screaming and wailing and tears. Begging and pleading for another balloon. Red cheeks. Flailing hands. Stomping feet.

A nightmare, my friends.

It’s just not worth it. Buy the kid a candy bar instead.

My toddler is a crack addict. Even worse, your Amber Alert system is still operating in 1997.

My wife and I took our daughter to a local grocery store on Saturday morning to register her for the Amber Alert program.

In order to register a child for Amber Alert, the child’s height and weight is measured and a headshot of the child is needed.

My daughter despises all three of these activities.

This made it both amusing and frustrating to listen to the two Amber Alert volunteers attempt to coax my daughter onto the scale and in front of the camera.

First they attempted bribery, offering Clara stickers, candy, coloring books, a balloon and the promise of more candy if she would comply.

Bribery does not work on my daughter. She places little value on material possessions and simply cannot be bought.

You should have seen the look on the volunteer’s face when Clara rejected the balloon. I’m not sure if she had ever seen a child reject a balloon in her life.

Then they attempted to exert peer pressure, explaining how all the other children had stood in front of the camera.

Peer pressure also does not work with my daughter. She was quite happy for her friends when they all became potty trained but this did not influence her desire to become potty trained in any way. She simply does not care what other people are doing or thinking about her. 

Then they attempted to rationalize with Clara, explaining the importance of this program and the ease by which the process would be completed. I stopped the woman before she could finish her first sentence.

“My daughter is three years old,” I said. “No amount of rationalizing is going to work with her. You are only giving her unnecessary warning about we are about to do. Surprise is our only weapon here. Think of my daughter as a crack addict. Would you try to rationalize with a crack addict about the dangers of drug use? Same rules apply here.”

The volunteer, who is also probably a mother, did not seem to appreciate the comparison of my daughter to a crack addict, but I thought she was equally insane for trying to explain the benefits of the Amber Alert system to an entrenched three year old .

In the history of human civilization, has any entrenched toddler ever said, “You know what? You’re right. This is important. I’m sorry for not realizing it sooner.”

Here’s a better question:

Why does the Amber Alert registration process require me to meet  volunteers with a laptop and camera outside a grocery store on a Saturday morning to complete a process that I could have done at home in a fraction of the time?

Even more important, my daughter’s height and weight will be different by Thursday. How is this system going to assist in locating my daughter if she disappears two years from now, when her height, weight and overall appearance have changed entirely?

Am I expected to return to this supermarket every six months to have Clara’s information updated?

If the Amber Alert system consisted of a secure website that parents could access at home, we could update our child’s height, weight and photograph on a regular basis, and I wouldn’t be required to drive four towns over and wait outside a grocery store on a Saturday morning in order to have volunteers offer my daughter balloons and candy to get her to do something that I can already do at home with much greater ease.

And I could’ve registered my daughter for the program months or even years ago instead of waiting for an Amber Alert Safe ID Event to make an appearance near my home.

It’s as if someone has frozen the Amber Alert system in 1997.

Even the Amber Alert website is incredibly wonky. Not only does it include scrolling. illegible text circa 1997 and a prominent display of the “Current Date” and “Current Time” in the top right and left corners circa never, but my hometown is not listed in its database of Connecticut cities and towns, making it impossible for me to search for an Amber Alert event near my home.

The text of the site is written in (I kid you not) 6 point font and there are links placed on top of text.

Don’t get me wrong. The Amber Alert system is a wonderful and much needed program, but it appears to be run by people who are still using Windows 97 machines and accessing the Internet via dialup.