Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 530

Wedding reboot: Favorite wedding moments

My wife and I will be celebrating our sixth wedding anniversary later this month. Following our wedding, I wrote about some of the more memorable moments and posted them on a blog that no long exists.

As our anniversary approaches, I’ve decided to re-post some of those wedding memories here as a means of preserving them as well as sharing them with readers.

Here is the third of these posts:

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Here’s one of many favorite wedding moments:

I made several toasts at our wedding, including one to Elysha’s grandmother, one to my mother and father-in-law, and one to all of my friends.

The only family member present for my nuptials was my sister, so I wanted to let my many friends know how important they are in my life. They really are like family to me.

In toasting my friends, I said, “To quote the famous philosopher… the famous Jewish philosopher, Kyle Broflovski…”

(At this, several of Elysha’s relatives nod in Jewish approval)

“…Family isn’t about whose blood you have. It’s about who you care about.”

The philosopher who I referenced is Jewish, but he is also animated.

My friends found this very amusing.

Wedding reboot: Best wedding response ever

My wife and I will be celebrating our sixth wedding anniversary later this month. A couple days ago I was writing about the hora, and it prompted me to go back and look back at some old posts that I wrote about our wedding on a blog that no long exists.

Though the blog was deleted more than five years ago under rather unfortunate circumstances, I’m so glad that the content from that blog was saved. I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed reading about our wedding day. 

As our anniversary approaches, I’ve decided to re-post some of those wedding memories here as a means of preserving them as well as sharing them with readers.

Here is the second of these posts:

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In the spirit of creativity, here is the prize winning wedding response card, sent to us by bridesmaid and groomsman Charles and Justine.

Knowing that I am a Dickens fan, they sent this response to our wedding invitation:

Charles was disappointed to find out that I didn’t own a copy of David Copperfield.

Nevertheless, two days before the wedding, I finally got around to finding a copy of the novel and looking up the passage, in order to determine if we would be a groomsman and bridesmaid shy of our expected number.

The passage reads:

It certainly had not occurred to me before, but I said, Yes, I should like that.

And no, we did not honor their food request.

From lunacy to reason in just three days

On Saturday we were back at the emergency room with our daughter after a less-than-pleasant ambulance ride two days before. The dreaded hives had reappeared, and unaware that this was not a continued reaction to a peanut allergy but simply a virus, we sped to the hospital in fear of the onset of anaphylactic shock.

The doctor sat down with us, explained that the return of the hives was probably indicative of a virus (especially since we never found any evidence that Clara had come into contact with peanuts), and gave her a little Benadryl.

Within the hour, we were on our way.

It’s interesting how quickly your attitude in regards to parenting can shift.

On Friday, we were panicked. Terrified. Out of our minds. I wanted to stick my daughter in a hermetically-sealed bubble and never allow her to come into contact with the world again. I yelled at emergency room doctors when they told me that the ambulance hadn’t arrived yet. I set an alarm that night and woke up every hour, on the hour, to check on her and ensure that she was okay. I considered sleeping on the floor beside her crib.

On Saturday we left the emergency room as changed parents. At least I did.

Still vigilant in terms of Clara’s peanut allergy and still wary of her breaking out in full body hives again, my attitude in terms of the hermetically-sealed bubble and the round-the-clock observation was gone. I had learned a great deal during the two days that I feared for my daughter’s safety.

Kids get sick. Viruses exist. Peanut-allergic kids sometimes have reactions to peanuts. In almost every case, things turn out okay. When they don’t, it’s usually the result of underestimating the problem and not reacting quick enough. 

Having dealt with my bee sting allergy for most of my life, I know I would never underestimate the dangers of anaphylactic shock. My wife acted almost instantaneously to what she perceived to be a peanut allergic reaction, and I know that I would have done the same.

That’s all you can do. Almost every time, things will turn out fine. 

But living with my allergy has also taught me that you cannot live in constant fear. Life in bubble isn’t any fun. 

Instead of driving home and resting for the remainder of the day, we went to a folk festival instead. An hour after being examined by an emergency room doctor, this is what my girl was doing.

Thank goodness for a little perspective.  

I hate the Red Sox, but I love these guys

I’m listening to the book Faithful: Two Diehard Boston Red Sox Fans Chronicle the Historic 2004 Season by Stephen King and Stuart O’Nan. It’s essentially a double-entry journal that chronicles the Red Sox for one season. It’s full of traditional journal entries, email exchanges, summaries of phone calls between the two men, and recollections of games they attended alone and together.

Even though I am a Yankees fan, I’m enjoying the book a lot, though I suspect I will enjoy it much less once I reach the postseason entries. By some stroke of genius, King and O’Nan chose to work on this book during the season in which the Red Sox win their first World Series since 1918.

Lucky bastards.

But having grown up in Massachusetts, I spent a lot of time around Red Sox fans, so listening to what King and O’Nan have to say about the team and the game of baseball is a little bit like going home.

I also like both writers a lot.

O’Nan taught at creative writing at Trinity College during my time there, and I was fortunate enough to squeeze in one class with him before he left. I’ve heard him speak a few times since then, and I’ve read several of his books, including most recently LAST NIGHT AT THE LOBSTER. Years ago I read his nonfiction account of the Hartford Circus Fire, and I cannot recommend it enough.

Stephen King has become a bit of a hero to me, for several reasons.

Growing up without very few books in my home, it wasn’t until I was granted my own library card that I really began reading and falling in love with books, and many of those first books were written by Stephen King. NIGHT SHIFT, DIFFERENT SEASONS, THE SHINING, and CUJO were just a few of the novels I read that first summer, and I loved every one of them.

Eventually I would go on to read all of King’s work, including IT, which I have read at least a dozen times, and his Dark Tower series, which I consider a genuine masterpiece.

Two decades later, it would be another one of King’s books, ON WRITING, that would inspire me to continue writing when the possibility of a writing career felt impossible and hopeless. The first half of ON WRITING is an autobiographical account of King’s life as a writer, including his very humble beginnings as a short story writer for men’s magazines.  The image of Stephen King siting in the laundry room of his trailer, shoved against the washing machine, unable to afford medicine for his sick children, sent me back to the laptop ready and willing to conquer the beast.

At the age of ten, Stephen King opened my mind to the world of books and reading, and thirty years later, I have now joined his fraternity. It’s an incredible feeling. Sort of like idolizing a ballplayer as a kid and then finding yourself playing alongside that same player someday.

In reading FAITHFUL, I’ve learned a few things about King that I did not know, specifically in terms of his approach to time management. It turns out that he and I have a lot in common in this regard.

While watching the Red Sox game, King has a book in his lap, and in between innings, he will read. He estimates that he can read about 40 pages during the average baseball game.

I have also been known to do this, in addition to spending commercial breaks listening to audiobooks and podcasts or pounding away at the laptop. From time to time I’ve also been known to listen to an audiobook while watching television, especially when the show is somewhat mindless and predictable.

Even more impressive, King writes about how he will listen to the ballgame on his car radio but switch over to an audiobook in between innings, timing the two minute commercial break with his wrist watch.

Similarly, I can be found at the gym with two sets of headphones when running on the elliptical. One is a wireless pair connected to my iPhone, through which I am undoubtedly listening to an audiobook or podcast. The second pair is attached to the machine so I can listen to the television affixed to it. I will switch between these two headphones during a workout in order to take advantage of commercial breaks, which has caused more than one fellow gym rat to stare at me in confusion. Yesterday, for example, I was watching the replay of the Yankees game from the day before as I worked out, and similar to King, I would switch headphones between innings and listen to my book, which happened to be King and O’Nan discussing the Red Sox “June swoon.”

Fear not, boys. Things will turn around for the Sox soon enough.

I’ve often thought that if Stephen King and I had the chance to get to know one another, we would be fast friends. While this is unlikely to ever happen, I do hope that he reads one of my books someday, which isn’t asking much considering the number of books the man reads on a yearly basis. I wouldn’t even need to know if he liked the book or not. Just knowing that the author who inspired a ten year old boy to read and a thirty year old man to write picked up one of my novels would be enough for me.

Last year I punched the guy. Yesterday he apologized.

More than a year ago, I broke up a fight in the parking lot of my gym. In the process, I was forced to throw a punch of my own.

Since that day, I’ve seen both men at the gym from time to time, but none of us have ever acknowledged what happened. Like all men, we have simply pretended that it never happened.

As I was exiting the gym today, I saw the guy who I had punched approaching me from across the parking lot. It was still early in the morning, and the guy appeared to have just rolled out of bed. He looked worn out and bedraggled. Maybe even hung over. Unlike I have ever seen him before.

As he drew closer, I became nervous. I had no desire to get into an argument with him about our previous encounter, and it appeared as if he wanted to talk. Rather than heading in the direction of the gym entrance, he was veering off in my direction.

“Listen, I wanted to say I’m sorry about what happened last year,” he said as he drew close.

Wanting to end this conversation before it even got started, I played dumb even though we were standing less twenty feet from the spot where I had slugged him. “What? Last year?”

“Yeah, you know. The fight. I’m sorry about that. I don’t know. I just lost my mind that day.”

“Oh,” I said. “That. No problem. It happens to everyone.”

“No, it doesn’t,” the man said. “It’s shouldn’t have happened. But thanks for stopping it. Seriously.” Then he walked off.

I was shocked. He seemed genuinely disappointed with himself for what had happened. I had braced myself for what I thought would be an angry outburst, but instead, I had received an apology.

I was a good lesson for me. I think we sometimes fix images of people in our minds based upon single encounters or a single decision that the person has made, when in reality, people are far more complex and nuanced than we could ever imagine. For more than a year, I had labeled this man as an angry lunatic and never given any thought to the possibility that he could be anything else.

Yesterday I saw a level of sincerity, disappointment, contrition and maybe even shame that I would have never thought possible.

But why not? I had spent less than 30 seconds with the man, and that time had consisted of a single punch and a string of expletives. Hardly the stuff upon which one should determine a person’s character.

Slate’s John Dickerson is fond of saying that “the worst thing about you is not the most true thing.”

I agree. I guess I need to actually put this belief into practice. 

Replacing a monster of a father

For those interested, there is a new post on 107 Federal Street, the blog that my sister and I write about our childhood. 

This week I respond to my sister’s post about some of the occasionally violent, sometimes adult-oriented games that we played as children.

My babies!

   

“The Most Amazing Bowling Story Ever”

Normally I would post a link to a story like this on Facebook and Twitter with a brief suggestion that you read it.

But I can’t risk you not reading this story. Therefore I am posting it here as well.

This is not only The Most Amazing Bowling Story Ever, but it’s also one of the greatest sports stories I have ever read.

I’m also including it in the admittedly enormous pantheon of best stories I have ever read. The hair on the back of my neck was literally standing on end as I was reading.

Drop what you’re doing and read this story. 

Wedding reboot: Matt and Elysha trivia

My wife and I will be celebrating our sixth wedding anniversary later this month. A couple days ago I was writing about the hora, and it prompted me to go back and look back at some old posts that I wrote about our wedding on a blog that no long exists.

Though the blog was deleted more than five years ago under rather unfortunate circumstances, I’m so glad that the content from that blog was saved. I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed reading about our wedding day. 

As our anniversary approached, I’ve decided to re-post some of those wedding memories here as a means of preserving them as well as sharing them with readers.

Here is the first of these posts:

__________________________________________

If you weren’t at our wedding (and most of you were not), you didn’t have an opportunity to see our menus, designed entirely by Elysha. A different menu was placed at each table setting, and on the bottom of each was a trivia question about Elysha and me (10 different questions in all). In the center of the table, sealed in an envelope (much like the board game Clue) were the answers.

Our goal was to tell our guests a little bit more about our relationship while also giving them something to talk about at the table. From all reports it worked well. I thought I’d post some of my favorite questions and answers here, since they say a lot about us.

What was Matt’s reply to Elysha upon her declaration of affection for him?

“I’m flattered.”

Even though Matt was already falling in love with Elysha, her declaration of affection (“You know I have a crush on you, right?”) came as such of a shock that he could not respond like a normal human being.

Instead they parted awkwardly, and on the way home Matt realized what a moron he had been and called Elysha in a desperate attempt to apologize for his stupidity. Elysha had already turned off her cell phone for the evening so Matt left a long and somewhat incoherent message that Elysha thankfully adored and saved until her phone service eventually deleted it for her.

On the night that Matt and Elysha first started falling in love, what food product was poured over Matt’s head?

Oatmeal. Matt and Elysha had dinner together on the night of a talent show at their school. During that dinner, they began to unexpectedly share things about their lives that would eventually draw them together.

Later on in the night, Matt participated in a comedy sketch in which a former student poured a pot of oatmeal over his head.

Matt and Elysha use a pet name that means the best, the ultimate and first rate. What is that word?

Skookum. Matt found the word on the Word of the Day website. He shared the word with Elysha and it has been their pet name ever since.

On their first date, Matt took Elysha where?

Mountain climbing. Mount Caramel, across the street from Quinnipiac College to be exact.

Though Matt had invited Elysha on the hike, he wasn’t sure if she had perceived the invitation as a date or simply two friends on a hike. On the way back down the mountain, Elysha reached out and held Matt’s hand for most of the return trip.

Matt has always thought of that moment as the beginning of their relationship.

Matt and Elysha were trapped at the airport, almost unable to rent a car during their first trip to Florida. Why?

Neither was in possession of a valid driver’s license. Both had expired a month earlier and neither of them thought about getting their licenses renewed before traveling to Florida to visit Elysha’s grandmother. After six attempts to rent cars at six different agencies inside the Boca Raton airport, Matt finally managed to smooth-talk a Philadelphia Eagle’s fan who was running the Hertz counter into renting them a car.

What gift does Matt give to Elysha when he needs her to get out of bed?

Hair and bath products. Early in the relationship, Elysha admitted that the only time she is excited about getting out of bed is when she has a new hair or bath product to try out. Therefore, Matt keeps a supply of “incentives” on hand in the event that he needs Elysha to get up and moving.

When Matt and Elysha told Matt’s mom that they were moving in together, what was her response?

Initially, she failed to respond.

Matt and Elysha had taken his mother to Walgreens, and in the midst of their shopping, Matt decided to spring the news on his mother.

After repeating the question, Matt’s mom responded with:

“That’s nice. Where do they keep the light bulbs?”

On their first date, Matt realized that Elysha was made for him when she interrupted their conversation to ask for what?

While sitting in Matt’s apartment, talking about their hopes and dreams and personal histories, Elysha stopped Matt mid-sentence and said, “I’m sorry. It’s 6:00 and The Simpsons are on. Would you mind if we turned on the television and watched?”

Matt knew at that moment that Elysha was the girl for him.

Charlie and Mommy

One of those rare perfect moments in life: