Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 607

More problems with Dicks

I recently wrote about my need to change my last name in the UK for the purposes of publishing. 

And while I am happy to be retaining my given name in the US and every other country where my books have been or are being translated (about a dozen at last count), it does create the occasional problem, as you might imagine. 

A good example is my name as it relates to Twitter.  Once a day, I use a search tool in order to determine if my name or the names of any of my books have been mentioned on Twitter within the past 24 hours.  Quite often a reader has tweeted that he or she has begun reading one of my books or enjoyed the book, and I am able to respond with appreciation. 

I'm also able to answer questions that the reader may have asked, offer to participate in book club talks remotely and begin the process of forming positive relationships with more and more readers. 

But in addition tweets about my books, a Twitter search of my name often yields additional results:

Women who are especially angry at men named Matthew and prone to pejorative remarks Men named Matthew or men speaking to men named Matthew who are proposing unhealthy, dangerous and complete insane activities with their genitals Men named Matthew making lewd advances at women and women making lewd advances at men named Matthew

To be honest, it's a base, grammatically challenged and vulgar side of Twitter that I don't normally see in my feed and one that I wish I didn't have to see on a regular basis. 

But then again, I could have been named after my father, Leslie (Les) Dicks.

Or my Uncle Harry. 

Or my other Uncle Harry.

I can't imagine what a Twitter search on those names might yield.

Please don't tell me. 

My single statement

Seed magazine asks:

If you only had a single statement to pass onto others summarizing the most vital lesson to be drawn from your work, what would it be?

The question originated from Richard Feynman's Lectures on Physics, where he asked:

"If, in some cataclysm, all of scientific knowledge were to be destroyed, and only one sentence passed on to the next generations of creatures, what statement would contain the most information in the fewest words?"

Feynman's answer:

"… all things are made of atoms—little particles that move around in perpetual motion, attracting each other when they are a little distance apart, but repelling upon being squeezed into one another."

Excellent answer.  Huh? Perhaps the best answer for a physicist.  

Seed asked eleven other scientists to answer this question.

Jill Tarter chose to quote Carl Sagan for her answer:

'We are made of star stuff.'

I like that one quite a bit, too.

I'm not a scientist, but as a novelist, I have been thinking about the most vital lesson that could be drawn from my work. 

After much consideration, I have chosen this:

Children are continually encouraged to be themselves.  Be different.  Avoid peer pressure.  Be unique.  But when they become adults, they are often punished for being different.  Being unique.  Avoiding societal norms.  Being themselves. 

But you do not need to be a novelist nor a scientist to play this game.  As a teacher, the most vital lesson drawn from my work would be this:

The most important thing that a teacher can do is establish an honest, loving, and supportive relationship with EVERY student in the class.  Not just the outgoing student and the hard working student and the student who resembles the teacher in skin color, family background or demeanor.  Teachers must establish an honest, loving, and supportive relationship with the classroom bully, the exceptionally shy student, the lazy student and the struggling learner.  

And as a McDonald's manager, the most vital lesson drawn from my work is similar:

Managing a crew of underpaid, highly unskilled workers depends solely on your ability to establish meaningful relationships with your employees.  When your employees believe that you are invested in them, they will perform at a high level for you.

And as a wedding DJ, my most vital lesson drawn from my work is this:

Music is the least important part of a wedding DJ's job.  Managing the wedding by ensuring that problems are handles quickly and appropriately and ensuring that all guests (including the bride and groom) are having fun is the DJ's primary role.  

And so now I ask you.  What is the most vital lesson that can be drawn from your work?

New favorite photos

This series of photos, taken by my father-in-law, are my new favorite pictures of my wife and daughter.

I am a very lucky man.

   

Avoiding trouble through clever wordplay

My two-year old daughter spilled some milk on the couch yesterday.

Actually, she removed the straw from her cup, turning it into a makeshift sippy cup, and then proceeded to empty the contents of the cup onto the couch cushion.

After realizing what she did, she ran into the dining room, took me by the hand, brought me into the family room, pointed at the spill and said, "Oh dear. Oh dear. Oh dear. I spilled my milk."

Clever ploy.  Admit to your mess in an exceedingly cute way to prevent Daddy from becoming upset.

The rules of golf: Remove shrapnel from the course, take cover during bombing runs and take a free drop if your ball is destroyed by enemy action

Perhaps I just enjoy golfing more, and perhaps I do not require as much sleep as most, but I have a great number of friends who enjoy golfing (and play much better than me) who are unwilling to join me at 6:00 AM on the back nine of our local golf course for a round of early morning golf.

And it's quite a deal.  If you're willing to get up early enough, you can lineup at the tenth tee box with the other early risers and play nine holes of golf on a first-come-first-served basis.  The first foursome tees off at 6:30 AM, and if you play fast enough, you can be walking off the course well before 9:00 AM with the rest of the day ahead of you.   

For guys with little kids at home, this is the perfect way to squeeze in a couple rounds of golf every weekend.  Wake up around 5:00 on Saturday and Sunday, grab a quick breakfast, and lineup at 6:00 for a 6:30 start. 

Even the most demanding of spouses would have a hard time complaining about the convenience of a round of golf finishing up before 9:00. 

And yet I only have a small handful of friends willing to do so on a regular basis. 

It baffles me. 

This past weekend, I actually managed to acquire a 7:45 tee time so I could play with some friends who were spending the weekend at my house, and still I heard complaints about the early hour.   

One of those friends sent me this yesterday, perhaps as an admission that his level of dedication to the sport was less-than-satisfactory. 

But even I think that this is taking dedication to the sport a bit too far.   

Please note the last rule:

"A player whose stroke is affected by the simultaneous explosion of a bomb may play another ball from the same place.  Penalty one stroke."

A PENALTY?  A bomb explodes in the middle of your backswing and you still incur a penalty?  These Brits take their golf very seriously. 

___________________________________________________

This notice posted in war-torn Britain in 1940 for golfers with stiff upper lips.

German aircraft from Norway would fly on missions to northern England; because of the icy weather conditions, the barrels of their guns had a small dab of wax to protect them. As they crossed the coast, they would clear their guns by firing a few rounds at the golf courses. Golfers were urged to take cover.

 

My initial assessment of Curious George

The fact that The Man with the Yellow Hat doesn't have an actual name is pretty stupid.

Generation gap

These are photographs of my daughter and her great grandmother in an ice cream shop in the Berkshires. 

My great grandmother on my mother's side lived until I was about ten, and my great grandfather on my father's side lived next door to me until I was about eight, and yet I have no photographs like this at all.

Then again, I only have about twenty photographs from my entire childhood, so perhaps that explains things.

I've always felt exceedingly fortunate about growing up in a time just before computers and the Internet became ubiquitous, yet spending most of my adult life with the benefits of both, but the digital camera is the one technological advance that I wish had existed during my childhood.  

My hope is that Clara treasures these photographs someday as much as I do right now.   

 

A lot of great news, but the vomit trumps it all

My fifth graders performed Shakespeare's Henry V last night, using the original Old English, and did a masterful job. 

Two friends and colleagues turned lyrics that I wrote into an actual song, the first time anything that I have written has been set to music, and it sounded terrific.

I received some potentially excellent news in terms of the possibility of SOMETHING MISSING being made into a film.  In fact, I read a script and liked it a lot. 

But all of these wonderful moments from yesterday pale in comparison to what happened just before I left for my student's play:

My daughter, suffering from a nasty stomach bug, threw up vast quantities of strawberries, blueberries and milk all over the kitchen floor, managing to splash my shoes in the process, and I cleaned it up.

This was a big deal for me.  I do not handle vomit well.  In fact, the first rule that I tell my students on the first day of school is "No throwing up in the classroom." 

I explain that even if they just think they might vomit, they are to leap from their chair and run as fast as possible to the hallway, and if possible, the bathroom.

Anywhere but the classroom, because I do not handle vomit well.

And yet I managed to watch my daughter throw up all over the floor, and then, while my wife cleaned up the kid, I managed to clean up the floor without much trouble.   

This is big for me. 

Perhaps parents have a natural immunity to their own child's vomit?

Maybe my daughter's vomit is especially benign?

Or could it simply be that I am finally toughening up?

Jon Stewart read my blog and stole my bit.

Damn that Jon Stewart.  He said the same thing I did, except he was a lot funnier. 

Also, did you hear that Palin supporters are attempting to edit Paul Revere's Wikipedia page in order to make her statements slightly more correct?

Like I said, it's not the lack of understanding about Paul Revere's ride that bothers me. 

Even I thought that Revere shouted "The British are coming!" as he rode through Massachusetts on that fateful night.   

Apparently he did not. 

Instead, it's Palin's subsequent attempt to explain the mistake away with nonsense and her refusal to accept responsibility for a historical faux pas that upset me so.   

Of course, it turns out that Sarah Palin may not be at fault.  Several people have suggested that she may be suffering from the Dunning-Kruger effect, a condition by which unskilled people make poor decisions and reach erroneous conclusions, but their incompetence denies them the metacognitive ability to appreciate their mistakes.

Sounds about right.

And she was recently spurned by Margaret Thatcher, who will reportedly reject any attempt by Palin to meet with her during Palin's proposed visit to Britain on the basis that "Sarah Palin is nuts."

Not a good week for the former governor from Alaska.

But I promise: A little honesty would have helped her considerably. 

Please let these be real. Please let these be real.

The Internet is full of hoaxes, so I tend to be exceedingly distrustful when it comes to things like this.

But these are just too good to be fake.  I hope.