Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 593

Are there reasonable reasons to run away from home?

I told my wife that when I was a kid, my siblings and I were served bologna and catsup sandwiches for lunch every day during our summer vacation.

No cheese.  No other condiments.  No potato chips.  No dessert. 

Just bologna, catsup and white bread.

One sandwich per kid.

My mother would apply the catsup on our sandwich in the shape of a smiley face, perhaps to distract us from the paucity of nutrition contained therein.

Oddly enough, I didn't mind this meal very much.  I didn't know enough at the time to complain, I guess.

My wife said that if her mother had ever tried to serve a bologna and catsup sandwich, she and her sister would've probably left home and never returned.

I don't even think she's exaggerating.

Weeping cat owners require segregation

After my third visit to the veterinarian this month and the millionth visit in the lifetime of my dog, I would like to offer the following suggestion:

There needs to be two areas for pet owners to check out. 

One for owners who have brought their pet in for a standard check-up or a similar non-life-threatening visit and a separate area for people whose pets have died or are dying. 

This morning I was standing behind a weeping woman and her confused son as they paid the bill for their dying cat.  Huddled in a small box on the counter, the cat apparently has days to live (as the owner just learned), and I was forced to watch her spill tears onto the cat while she waited for the employee behind the counter to prepare her medications and calculate her bill.

And this isn't the first time this has happened.  I have watched people collapse to the floor and weep upon learning that their pet has died, and while I might do the same, it would be nice if these displays of sorrow could be done in a more private setting. 

Perhaps bring the bill to the examination room rather than asking these poor souls to check out like the rest of us.   

This poor woman (and her befuddled boy) didn't need me or the lady and her three kids waiting behind me staring at her during this moment of sadness, and more important, I did not need to bear witness to this grief.

Adding to my displeasure was a bulletin board to my right, full of cards thanking the veterinarians for helping to ease various pets into a painless death.

I was surrounded by sorrow, and frankly, I didn't like it one bit.

And when the weeping cat owner was forced to contest her bill in between sobs, it all became too much for me, and for a moment, I considered exiting without paying.

The dine-and-dash equivalent of the veterinary world. 

Had I not required a follow-up visit and some medication, I might have done just that. 

So please, a separate area for grieving pet owners. 

One far away from us less tortured souls.

Oh, and to the woman who was standing behind me with her three children:

If your daughter is so frightened of dogs that she literally screams whenever one approaches, perhaps it would be best to not bring her to the veterinarian's office. 

Every time my dog even looked in her direction, she screamed. 

I wanted to tell the little girl to grow up, but we already had one person crying in line and I did not want to add another.

Should schools stop releasing their honor rolls for publication in order to protect the feelings of students not included on the list?

When I first heard that a middle school in Glastonbury, CT was going to stop releasing its honor roll for publication in order to protect the feelings of those students who haven't earned the honor, I was horrified.

Students who have worked hard and made the best use of their talents are going to suffer because everyone can't make the honor roll? 

What's next?  Will newspapers stop reporting on high school basketball games because there are players on both teams who failed to score any points?

Then I read the article in the Hartford Courant and came upon the rationale behind the decision:

"We have a school where 96 percent of students go on to college," (superintendent) Bookman said. "The percentage of students making the honor roll at both schools is tremendously high. … It makes those who don't make it stand out and puts more pressure on the kids who don't make it."

"There is no reason to put additional pressure on kids," he added. "The motivation to do well should not be to see your name in the paper. It should be to do well in school and go to college."

This rationale caused me to doubt my initial reaction.  In a school district where the number of students who make the honor roll is "tremendously high", perhaps there is something to be said for keeping the list out of the newspapers.  If one or two percent of the students don't make the list, the honor roll could conceivably become a means of ostracizing lower performing students rather than celebrating student achievement.

After all, if nearly everyone makes the list, is the honor roll even an effective means of celebrating student achievement?

If everyone is special, then no one is special. 

A student told me that once, and I couldn't agree more.

Then again, should we remove a means of academic recognition enjoyed by students for decades simply because it might make a few kids feel bad? 

Isn't the purpose of the honor roll to celebrate student achievement and a establish a level that all students can aspire?

I read this story five days ago and have been going back and forth about it ever since, seeing the merits to both sides of the argument. 

Late last night I finally settled on an opinion. 

In the end, I applied the situation to Clara. 

If my daughter was in that middle school and she was one of the few students not making the honor roll, either as a result of her lack of effort or her innate struggles that she had as a learner, I would not want the honor roll to be held back from publication in order to protect her feelings. 

Life is not fair, and we are not all equal.  Whether her exclusion from the honor roll was the result of effort or inability, it would be my job as a parent to talk to her about this and help her process the reasons behind her exclusion. 

If her effort was lacking, a kick in the pants would be in order, and it would be an important lesson learned.

If her ability prevented her from achieving honors, then a more difficult discussion about reasonable expectations and personal limitations might be needed, and an even more important lesson would be learned.   

But I would not want the world to conform to my daughter for the sake of her feelings. 

The world does not conform to individuals.  Nor should it.

It is a lesson best learned at an early age, as cruel as it may seem. 

How to deliver a wedding toast

Slate's Toy Patterson recently wrote a piece on how to deliver a wedding toast. 

It's a good list.  In fact, #3 on Patterson's list is similar to one of my own (I purposely wrote my list before reading his).

And I don't disagree with any of Patterson's rules.  It's a good list.  What I suspect, however, is that Patterson has not listened to more than one thousand wedding toasts over the course of his lifetime. 

I have. 

As a result, I have become keenly aware of some of the simple but shockingly common mistakes that people make when delivering a toast.  So while Patterson's list centers on what makes a good toast, my list leans towards the mistakes most common during a toast.   

After 16 years in the wedding industry, I have seen them all. 

Matthew Dicks's Rules for Delivering a Successful Wedding Toast

1. There is no need to introduce yourself at the beginning of your toast.  If you are important enough to have been asked to speak, everyone who needs to know who you are knows who you are. 

2. Speak into the microphone, damn it.  You can't imagine how often this rule is ignored, even after I provide thorough instructions and opportunities for practice prior to the toast. 

3. Do not talk about the weather. You would be shocked by the number of times a best man feels the need to review the weather thus far at the onset of his toast.

4. Compliment the bride. Many times. Say nothing negative.

5. Do not tell inside jokes or make references only understood by the bride and groom.  You are not speaking to two people. You are speaking to everyone.

6. Embarrassing stories about the groom are acceptable as long as they do not involve other women, excessive alcohol and drug use or bodily fluids.

7. Actually make a toast.  Do not deliver a speech and sit down without raising a glass to the bride and groom.  Even though I remind every person who is giving a toast about this rule, it is by far the one forgotten most often.

Which is sad, because if you've been asked to offer a toast, you should probably offer a toast. 

The double-take instead of the long gaze

I saw a woman at the gym today whose outfit left me wondering what she was hoping for when she donned it. 

The top was tight fitted, sheer and spotted with flesh colored patches and two unfortunately placed pink circular spots on the chest that caused me to look twice in order to determine if the woman had on any clothing at all.

Better still, the woman on the treadmill to my left and the man on the elliptical to my right also did double-takes as this oddly dressed woman passed by.  In fact, our double-takes were so pronounced that we looked at one another and laughed after the woman had passed, realizing that we had all experienced the same thing.

Ordinarily I do not comment negatively on a person's clothing, and I find people who do so to be quite shallow and despicable. 

But you have to wonder about an outfit which seems to camouflage itself on the wearer. 

Is she wearing a top?

Is that a shred of a top?

Is that top purposely shredded? 

Oh, wait, she is wearing a top.  It just blends in with her naked self so much that she might as well not be wearing a top.

And yet I don't think that she was going for the naked camouflage look.  It's somehow too subtle and not subtle at all.  

One assumes that the most a woman could expect from her clothing choice is the long gaze, the inability of others to pull their eyes away from the beauty of the garment and its wearer.

But the double-take? 

It seems like that is probably the worst of all possible reactions.  

Two new jobs Im looking to add to my collection of jobs: Double date companion and grave site visitor

I am a teacher, an author, a DJ, a minister and most recently, a life coach.

I am paid for all these jobs.  My wife claims that I collect jobs, and while that might be true, I only collect jobs that have meaning to me.

First and foremost, I am a teacher.  It is what I wanted to be when I was growing up.  It is what I spend most of my time doing, and it is the most important job that I have.   

Author is a close second.  I love writing, and I am proud of what I have accomplished in the publishing world thus far.  Writing has become a legitimate career for me, and thanks to my success, we were able to buy our home and keep my wife out of work for the first eighteen months of my daughter's life.  Today she works part-time thanks to my career as an author.  Years ago, I decided that I would like to one day write for a living and teach for pleasure.  While that goal has not yet been realized, it would appear that I am on my way to making it a reality.

The DJ business is one that I started with my best friend sixteen years ago, and though I grumble and complain when I am forced to leave my family for work on a Saturday, it's hard to whine about spending the day with my best friend at a party of my own making, and being paid well for it.  It's also gratifying to know that I have played an important role in one of the most important days of my clients' lives, and as an added bonus, one of my best friends is a former client.  That's a lot of benefits from what began as a dream to one day DJ a wedding.  It's also a part-time job, with most of the work taking place in the summer when I am not teaching, making it a perfect compliment to my teaching career.

Despite my lack of religious belief, I became a minister so that I could marry couples who hire me as a DJ.  Over the years I have married about a dozen couples in all, including friends and coworkers, and I have begun to officiate ceremonies like baby naming ceremonies as well.  It is not demanding or time-consuming work, but it is meaningful, memorable work.

My goal of becoming a paid life coach was realized last month when I was hired for my first coaching gig.  Years ago, I met a woman who was becoming a life coach, and I was immediately intrigued.  I had never heard of such a thing before.  She explained to me that she had just completed a certification program at a local college and was looking for clients.  But when I questioned her about her own life, I realized that she did not have any real experience to go along with the training.  No tragedy or trauma, no struggles or surprising successes, no bootstrap-pulling scenarios that might have qualified her to help others.  While I had no interest in the training she received, I thought that I had a lifetime of experience that I could put to use helping people and so my goal was born.  And now it has been achieved. 

Yes, I collect jobs.  But not traditional jobs.  Not the kind that require time cards and bosses and fixed schedules.  I collect interesting work.  Unique jobs.  Passion projects.

Most recently I declared my intention to become a professional best man, and while some may have thought that this idea was a tongue-in-cheek gag, I am serious.  I would very much like to be hired as a professional best man and think I am uniquely qualified for the job.

Today I would like to add two other prospective jobs to my list. 

1.  Professional double date companion

I have a vision of my wife and my becoming the couple you hire when you plan on dating someone who you do not know for the first time.  Rather than flying solo and having to endure the challenges of meeting and evaluating a person for the first time while simultaneously trying to impress him or her, my wife and I would join you on your first date, either transparently as hired guns or covertly as newfound acquaintances.

Our role would be as facilitators.  We would work hard to ensure that the date progresses smoothly while doing everything in our power to make you look and sound your best.  At the same time, we would be garnering as much information about your prospective mate as possible in as short a time as possible in order to provide you with those all-important second and third opinions at the conclusion of the evening.  Why wait for the fifth or sixth date to introduce your prospective mate to friends and family when we can weigh in on the subject immediately? 

My wife's unending charm and ability to make anyone feel at ease, combined with my insight and willingness to ask the tough question will serve you well.  Stripped of the standard pressures of the first date, you will find yourself well armed with two people whose sole purpose it to serve your best interests by making you look good while simultaneously determining if your date is a person worth your time and energy. 

With a service like this available, why would anyone go on a first date without us ever again?

2.  Professional grave site visitor

I learned about this unique occupation after reading about it in the New York Times: 

Advertising in a local newspaper and in fliers she distributed in surrounding towns, Terry Marotta-Loprioree offered her services: "Continue your signs of love and respect for your loved ones who have passed. If you are unable to visit your loved ones for whatever reason, I can help. Whether you need flowers delivered, prayers said or just a status on the condition of the site, I will visit any Westchester or Putnam County cemetery on your behalf. Proof of my visit will be either e-mailed or sent to you through the mail."

My first thought:

I can do that!  Hell, I'd love to do that.  Get paid for visiting a grave?  Maybe deliver some flowers and pull a few weeds.  Perhaps even offer a prayer to the deceased.  I'm a minister!  Who better qualified.  And I have died twice, giving me more in common with your deceased than anyone else around! 

I'm ready, willing and able, and I'm seriously considering placing an ad on CraigsList to see what happens. 

It will begin with something like this:

"Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays this professional grave visitor, minister and near-death survivor from spending quality time with your deceased love one."

I'd also add the option of playing a client's recorded message to the deceased, making my visit even more personally appealing.

Not bad,  Huh?

I'm also very interested in a career as a professional speaker and am seeking a lecture agent at this time, and I have plans for a corporate consulting gig following the publication of my semi-autobiographical book on productivity and efficiency. 

But for now, professional best man, professional double dater and professional grave visitor will do. 

Any takers?

Pebbles arent good enough for my little one

While Elysha ran into Starbucks for a coffee today, Clara and I waited patiently in the car. 

Patiently until she saw the collection of decorative boulders dotting the landscape beside the car.  For reasons that I cannot comprehend, my daughter is obsessed with trying to lift rocks twice her size.  She began screaming to get out of the car and "Pick up the rocks! Pick up the rocks!"

The same thing happened last week while she was picking blueberries.

Could a parent with more experience than me please explain this insanity?

Disappointment can be entertaining when you arent the one being disappointed

New York City Starbucks have begun to cover up some of their electrical outlets in order to to eliminate the customers "who spread all their papers out and stay for hours on end, turning a coffee-shop table into their makeshift cubicle," says a Time magazine piece on the subject.

The move "reflects a growing trend of coffee shops trying to discourage squatters from hogging seats while spending little." 

This is the kind of story that makes my heart soar, not because these squatters impact me in anyway.  I don't drink coffee, and while I have been known on rare occasions to sit down in a Starbucks to write, the ungodly scream of the milk steamer, combined with the incomprehensibility of the language that is spoken in those shops, makes it a place where I cannot concentrate for very long.

No, it's not that these squatters inconvenience me. 

Instead, I approve of this decision simply because I like to imagine the look on the faces of the laptop squatters when they return to their favorite coffee shop/work area, only to find their power source eliminated.

It's that image that brings me happiness.

In a perfect world, I would have the time to camp out beside these former power outlets and spend the day watching the squatters approach their favorite table only to realize that their plans for electrical subjugation have been foiled.   

It's a pleasure drawn from suffering and cruel amusement, I know. 

But if I'm being honest, it's also the sole reason that this story attracted my attention in the first place. 

Sort of my own personal version of watching a NASCAR race to see an accident, but with fewer potentially dire consequences.

One in five Americans smoke. Where the hell are they? And it would appear that Mad Men gets it very wrong when it comes to smoking.

The 2009 figures on smoking were reported recently in USA Today.

I looked at the statistics and thought:

One in five Americans smoke?  Who the hell is smoking anymore?

I am blessed with a large circle of friends, and thanks to my wife, an even wider circle of quasi-friends and acquaintances.

You cannot imagine the number of people to whom she introduces to me on an weekly basis.  It's a never-ending turnstile of new faces.   

And yet I cannot think of a single friend or acquaintance who smokes. 

Not one. 

So what is going on here?

Has smoking become a regional addiction, or is there a purposeful segregation taking place between the smokers and the nonsmokers? 

Are there equally wide circles of friends and acquaintances in which the majority of their members smoke?

And why in hell are kids still smoking in high school?  Forget the health implications.  Hasn't the cost, the smell and social stigma of smoking served as deterrent enough? 

Hasn't smoking reached the level of uncool? 

Are kids in my local Connecticut high school smoking in such large numbers, or is this once again a regional trend?

I find every one of these statistics baffling in some way.

Even the 1965 statistics on smoking. 

The 1965 figures are quite interesting in light of Mad Men, the television series that Elysha and I have begun watching.  The first season of the show takes place in 1960, and every single character on the show smokes.

Constantly.   

Yet the statistics indicate that in 1965, less than half of all Americans were smokers. 

What is going on here?

For a television show that has received much acclaim for its accurate portrayal of 1960's America, it's apparently inaccurate obsession with smoking would seem like a serious flaw.

A set piece taken to an unfortunately inaccurate extreme.

Thoughts anyone?

And more important, are any of my readers smokers?

One in five Americans smoke. Where the hell are they? And it would appear that Mad Men gets it very wrong when it comes to smoking.

The 2009 figures on smoking were reported recently in USA Today.

I looked at the statistics and thought:

One in five Americans smoke?  Who the hell is smoking anymore?

I am blessed with a large circle of friends, and thanks to my wife, an even wider circle of quasi-friends and acquaintances.

You cannot imagine the number of people to whom she introduces to me on an weekly basis.  It's a never-ending turnstile of new faces.   

And yet I cannot think of a single friend or acquaintance who smokes. 

Not one. 

So what is going on here?

Has smoking become a regional addiction, or is there a purposeful segregation taking place between the smokers and the nonsmokers? 

Are their equally wide circles of friends and acquaintances in which the majority of their members smoke?

And why in hell are kids still smoking in high school?  Forget the health implications.  Hasn't the cost, the smell and the general appearance of a smoker served as deterrent enough? 

Hasn't smoking reached the level on uncool? 

Are kids in my local Connecticut high school smoking in such large numbers, or is this once again a regional trend?

I find every one of these statistics baffling in some way.

Even the 1965 statistics on smoking. 

The 1965 figures are quite interesting in light of Mad Men, the television series that Elysha and I have begun watching.  The first season of the show takes place in 1960, and every single character on the show smokes.

Constantly.   

Yet the statistics indicate that in 1965, less than half of all Americans were smokers. 

What is going on here?

For a television show that has received much acclaim for its accurate portrayal of 1960's America, it's apparently inaccurate obsession with smoking would seem like a serious flaw.

A set piece taken to an unfortunately inaccurate extreme.

Thoughts anyone?

And more important, are any of my readers smokers?