Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 571

This post-feminist world is confusing to me.

I purchased my Christmas tree last week.  We rode a tractor into the hills of a tree farm, and using my bare hands, I tore the tree from the cold earth.

I also used a hacksaw, and my wife pushed on the tree a bit as I was cutting, but still, I was the one who extracted that thing from the soil. 

The tree was loaded onto the tractor and then we were taken back down to the farm where employees with chainsaws evened off the end of the tree and wrapped it in netting for the car ride home. 

I lifted the tree from the table and began walking to my car when a young lady stopped me and asked, "Would you like me to carry that down to your car for you?"

I did.  I wasn't wearing gloves and was sure to be covered in tree sap before I made it halfway down the hill. 

Also, my wife and daughter were already eating cider donuts, and I wanted one.  I basically wait all year for my celebratory cider donut, and my time had come.

But instead of accepting her offer, I politely declined.

"Are you sure?" she asked.  "I've got gloves on, and this is what I'm here for."

"Yes, I want you to take this tree from me," I wanted to say.  "You're right!  You have gloves!  And there are cider donuts just waiting to be eaten!  But you're a seventeen year old girl!  As much of a supporter of equality and women's rights as I may be, I still can't allow a seventeen year old girl to carry my Christmas tree to my car.  I'm sorry!"

Instead, I made a joke about how I was trying to impress my wife with my manliness and continued on with my tree, but this situation bothered me. 

I am an ardent supporter of women's rights. 

I am the guy who has argued that women are so equal to men that they should be eligible for the draft, and that women do themselves a disservice when they fail to fight for every responsibility of American citizenship in addition to every every right and privilege.   

I am the guy who disregards sex completely when casting my Shakespearean plays and bases all decisions on merit.  Two years ago I cast a blond girl for the part of Othello. 

I'm the guy who hopes his daughter plays Pee Wee football someday. 

Yet I can't allow a seventeen year old girl to take me Christmas tree to my car?

Chivalry is one thing, but this girl was specifically hired to do this job and had no objection to completing the task.  She was young, healthy, willing to work and wearing gloves. 

There was no reason why I should not have allowed her to carry that tree to my car, and yet doing so would have made me feel like a heel.

I want this girl to have the right to be hired to transport Christmas trees to automobiles.  I believe that she is perfectly capable of doing the job, and I am glad that someone was forward thinking enough to hire her. 

She just can't take my Christmas tree to the car.    

What is wrong with me?

Its got everything. Opposition to authority. A First Amendment battle. And the stupidity of the demanded apology.

The story of Emma Sullivan is one of my favorites of the year.

Sullivan is the eighteen year old high school student who tweeted that Kansas Governor Sam Brownback "sucked" after his visited her school earlier in the day.  

The college-bound senior disagrees with Republican Governor's positions on abortion and gay rights.

Sullivan thought the tweet to her 60 Twitter followers would go mostly unnoticed, but then she got called to the principal's office.

Doing a routine search of the governor's name on social-networking sites, Brownback's communications director, Sherienne Jones-Sontag, found Sullivan's tweets and reached out to her school to demand an apology. Sullivan's principal acquiesced, and ordered Sullivan to draft an apology to send to the governor.

Sullivan refused, and Brownback was ultimately forced to apologize after the story was reported by the media and gained national attention. 

"My staff overreacted to this tweet, and for that I apologize.  Freedom of speech is among our most treasured freedoms."

This story is good on so many levels. 

As a frequent challenger of authority in high school and beyond, I always love a story in which the little guy with the big mouth wins.

I am also an ardent supporter of First Amendment rights and have been forced to defend my own First Amendment privileges in the past when those who disagree with my opinion seek to silence me or otherwise hinder my wellbeing.  I am also happy to see the First Amendment score a victory for those under attack for their willingness to speak out and express their opinion.  

But best of all, it's a rare and glorious day when the person stupid enough to demand an apology is then forced to apologize instead.

As you may know, I am a frequent critic of the demanded apology.

It's the kind of scenario so good that you'd think it too contrived if presented in a movie or on television.  But in real life, it's the best of all possible circumstances. 

Emma Sullivan.  One of my heroines of 2011.

Misery loves no company

Me:  Do you want me to cuddle you, Clara? 

Clara:  No, Daddy! I need to cry and be sad! By myself!

My daughter is prone to reveling in her own misery.

Your accomplishments probably mean nothing.

Not all accomplishments are equal.  And not all accomplishments are duly recognized for what they are worth. 

For example, consider the driver's license examination. 

When you pass that test and are issued your license, everyone in your life congratulates you.  It's a big deal.  A major step to adulthood and independence. 

And the prize is one of the best that you will ever receive:

The freedom of unrestricted, self-selected movement. 

The status that comes with being able to drive an automobile. 

The sheer joy of sitting behind the wheel with the windows rolled down and the radio blaring your favorite song on a summer day.

It is a momentous occasion in the life of a young person.     

Then two or three months pass and it's over.

Nobody cares about your passing score anymore.  Everyone around you is getting their license.  Everyone older than you already has a license. 

It's become passé. 

Even the joy of driving has started to wane under the cost of gas and repairs, the annoyance of stop-and-go traffic and the erosion of the newness of driving. 

What was once one of your greatest accomplishments and the fulfillment of a lifelong dream has now become just another aspect of everyday life.

Nobody cares that you drive anymore.  Not even you. 

By contrast, I was a Truman Scholarship Finalist in 1998.  I was one of eight college students in the country to make it to the final interview with the scholarship's board of review.  

Sitting in the waiting room with me that day were three students from Harvard, two students from Yale, a student from Dartmouth, and a student from Princeton.

I was attending Manchester Community College.

I was outclassed, outmuscled and out-brained, yet somehow I had made it to the finals.

This was a major accomplishment.   

I did not go on to win the Truman Scholarship.  My journey to become a Truman Scholar ended that day in New York City, but just sitting in that room with those men and women was an accomplishment worthy of recognition. 

In contrast to my competitors, I was working 60 hours a week managing a fast food restaurant and serving as my college's Treasure and President of the National Honor Society.   

The fact that I had made it as far as I did in the competition was remarkable, and yet after I lost, even I did not consider my accomplishment noteworthy.  I remember riding in a cab back to Grand Central Station that day thinking about how lousy second place felt.

How meaningless it was. 

Throughout my life, I have been the king of second place finishes. 

I've learned that no one really cares about second place. 

Not even me.   

No one cares that I was a finalist for the Truman Scholarship. 

Not even me. 

No one cares that I passed my driver's examination on the first try. 

They did for a minute, but that was it. 

Two major accomplishments long since forgotten, and for good reason. 

There is great truth in the question, "What have you done for me lately?"

Mean, stupid teachers.

The New York Times reports that "millions of American schoolchildren are receiving free or low-cost meals for the first time as their parents, many once solidly middle class, have lost jobs or homes during the economic crisis, qualifying their families for the decades-old safety-net program."

I was a free lunch kid throughout my entire childhood. 

For most of my elementary and middle school career, I was also a free breakfast kid.

While I appreciated the access to food even as a child (since there was never a lot of food at home), my one complaint was how the program was managed by the schools.  Each morning, my teachers would take a lunch count using the following procedure:

Please raise your hand if you're buying hot lunch.

Please raise your hand if you're buying cold lunch.

Please raise your hand if you're receiving free hot lunch.

Please raise your hand if you're receiving free cold lunch.    

Having to raise my hand every morning and remind my classmates that I was poor sucked. 

Today, the process is designed so that even teachers aren't aware of who receives a free lunch.  In fact, most kids aren't even aware that they are receiving a free lunch every day.  A family's financial situation is considered confidential information, but even if it was not, no teacher today would ever require a student to raise his or her hand in order to receive a free lunch.

Which leads me to wonder what the hell teachers and administrators were thinking when I was a kid.

This is not an instance of my mother drinking wine during her pregnancy because she didn't know any better or my parents allowing us to ride our bicycles without helmets  because the public had yet to be educated about the important of their use. 

This seems rather obvious to me:

It's cruel to require kids self-select their economic status in front of their classmates. 

Was empathy, common sense and basic human decency really at a premium when I was a kid?

The worst thing I have ever done to my wife (I think)

The best way to tell someone that your wife is pregnant:

While playing poker with a close friend, wait until he has a difficult and expensive decision to make.  As he is pondering the probability that he might have the best hand, calculating the odds, trying to get a read on his opponent and attempting to make the most important decision of the game, lean over the table and whisper, "Hey Tom. Elysha is pregnant."

Tom ultimately called the bet and lost the hand. 

I'm not sure if my distraction played a role in his decision, but it was most assuredly a distraction.

The worst way to tell someone that your wife is pregnant:

While your wife is in the bathroom, get on the phone and tell her father that his daughter is pregnant.

In my defense, I thought Elysha was in the room.  My mother-in-law was over the house for dinner, so we had told her about our good news earlier in the evening.  But my father-in-law was in New York, visiting with his mother in the hospital, and we wanted to tell him the good news as well.  My mother-in-law was speaking to him on the phone, so I asked her to hand me the phone when she was finished speaking. 

When I asked for the phone, Elysha was in the room with me. 

After a few minutes, my mother-in-law handed me the phone, and because I am an unobservant, callous, idiotic, insensitive dolt, I failed to look up and confirm that Elysha was still in the room. 

I just went ahead and told her father the news.

Unfortunately, she was in the bathroom.  She could hear my voice through the door, but it took her a moment to realize what was happening, and by that time, I had already spilled the beans. 

It might be the worst thing that I have ever done to my wife.

I will never forgive myself for my stupidity.

I suspect that she will not as well.

Taunting my inadequacy

My daughter is constantly reaching into the night sky and asking if I can help her reach the stars. 

It was cute at first, but the metaphorical weight of the statement, combined with my inability to lift her that high, has turned her request into a stab at my inadequacy.

Yesterday she extended this request into the daytime hours while we were playing at the park.  

Clara:  Can you help me climb the flagpole, Daddy? 

Me:  It's pretty high, sweetie.

Clara:  Please!

Me:  I'll lift you as high as I can.  

Clara (while still clinging to the flagpole):  Daddy, can you help me climb to the sky?

Me:  I'll do my best… this is as high as I can lift you, sweetie.

Clara:  Daddy, I need a ladder!

Replaced by a ladder. 

Tool party. But he is the tool.

The difference between men and women:

A buddy sends an invitation to me and a dozen other close friends inviting us to a party where he will be serving beer and some light snacks while demonstrating a selection of top-of-the-line, brand name tools.  Following the demonstration, we will be given the option of purchasing any of the products if we so desire.

Hammers, jigsaws, ratchet sets, drills, screwdrivers.  A wide selection of toolbox staples will be made available.  We may even be given the chance to try out the tools in some makeshift living room workshop.  

Or maybe instead of tools, our friend is selling golf clubs or poker paraphernalia or fishing tackle.

The actual merchandise doesn't matter.  It's our reaction to our friend's invite that makes the difference.       

Upon receiving the invitation, it would immediately become a race between all of the invitees to see who could arrive at our friend's doorstep first in order to punch him in the face. 

Men would not stand for this kind of nonsense.  We understand the dangers of the slippery slope.  Allow just one man host one of these "parties" and before you know it, we'd be getting invitations for all kinds of retail-in-the-living-room nonsense. 

Hell no.  A punch in the face seems quite appropriate in a case like this. 

Extreme situations call for extreme measures.  

Women, by contrast, reluctantly agree to attend these pushy product parties, politely purchase an item or two that could have otherwise been purchased in a store or online, and complain about the "party" after the fact. 

They've done this to themselves by agreeing to polite. 

Men understand that polite isn't always the best course of action.      

Resolution update: November 2011

With just one month left to complete my New Year's resolutions, I have started crossing off those items that are complete.

The following is my progress through November.

1.  Lose 23 pounds, bringing me down to my high school track and field weight.

Eight-tenths of a pound away as of this morning. 

Stupid Thanksgiving.  And the day after Thanksgiving.  And the day after the day after Thanksgiving… 

2.  Do at least 50 100 200 push-ups and 50 100 sit-ups a day.

I did not miss a day in November.

3.  Practice the flute for at least an hour a week.

I practiced for a little more than an hour in November.  Again, a significant improvement over the previous nine months, but not even close to my goal.

4.  Find a wine that I can drink every night or so.

Success!  While I don't adore it, I have found a wine that is moderately palatable.  Chianti is now my win of choice.  

5.  Complete my fifth novel.

Not looking good.  I have a feeling that I'll be resetting this goal to somewhere around my birthday.

Even after writing four of them, books are hard.     

6.  Complete and submit one children's book to my agent.

Still done. Revisions of both of my stories continue, and a new story is still underway.  I'm also participating in a children's literature workshop in December and making plans to attend a children's literature and publishing conference next April.  

By the end of the year, I should have three children's books in various states of revision, with at least one back in the hands of an agent.        

7.  Complete the book proposal for the non-fiction collaborative project that I began last year.

Possible but unlikely.  This was a project that was supposed to be completed over the summer, but my partner and I failed to connect.  It will likely reappear on next year's list of resolutions. 

8.  Complete an outline for my memoir

Done. The writing of the memoir continues. 

9.  Convince my sister to write on http://107federalstreet.blogspot.comat least once a week and do the same myself.

Still done!  Writing continues! 

10.  Drink at least four glasses of water every day.

Done.

11.  Complete at least one of the three classes required for me to teach English on the high school level.

As I stated last month, I originally needed to complete three classes in order to receive my certification, but after jumping through some administrative hoops and providing the state with some documentation, I only need two classes now.  Therefore, resolution accomplished.

I also await the results of my English certification test.  I think I probably passed despite not studying.  If not, I know the one area that I will need to review. 

12.  Try liver.

Done!  It wasn't bad, but it wasn't good either. 

13.  Publish an Op-Ed in a national newspaper.

I have submitted a piece to the Hartford Courant and have another in the works.  With a month to go, this is looking unlikely unless I find the write editor. 

14.  Participate in The Moth as a storyteller, at a live show or on their radio broadcast.

On Monday, I told a story at my second StorySlam and my third Moth event of the year.  I plan on attending one more StorySlam on December 26.  With luck, my name will be drawn from the hat and I will have one more chance to perform in 2011.

15. See our rock opera (The Clowns) performed on stage as a full production or in a dramatic reading format.

Done!  Since the reading last month, we have heard from two local theaters that may be interested in a full production of the show. 

16.  Organize my basement.

Almost done.  I have confidence that work will be completed by the end of the year. 

17.  Land at least one paying client for my fledgling life coach or professional best man business.

Done!

18. Rid Elysha and myself of all education debt before the end of the year.

We have eliminated half of our education debt thus far.  While it is unlikely that all education debt will be eliminated by the end of the year, we have made significant progress in this area. 

19. Replace the twelve ancient windows on the first and second floor of the house with more energy efficient ones.

Still waiting on the funding.

20. Make one mortgage payment from poker profits.

I played quite a bit of poker in November but broke even for the month.  I remain stuck on a little less than 25% of a mortgage payment so far.

21. Post my progress in terms of these resolutions on this blog on the first day of every month.

Done.

Parasite onboard

The doctor reports that this is currently located in my wife's womb.

It's due to come out in late May.   

We told Clara last night.

She informed me that it's a girl and that it's beautiful.

Then she kissed my wife's belly a few times and asked if she could feed the baby with a bottle when it came out.

Then she did the first somersault of her life and told me that Teddy taught her how to do it at school.

Teddy is two years old.