Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 64

Deserving a better birthday

Happy birthday to my beautiful wife, Elysha. It wasn’t exactly a spectacular birthday.

I spent about eight hours in an Elk’s Lodge watching Charlie compete in his very first speed-cubing competition. Then, our dinner plans with friends were canceled because of the snow, leaving us home with the kids, eating take-out, and watching a movie.

Not the most celebratory means of marking her special day.

Happily, she enjoyed lunch with her parents and spent the afternoon with Clara, but I had hoped to play a slightly more significant role in her day.

Planning to be out for dinner, I didn’t even have a cake. Thankfully, her colleagues gave her cupcakes on Friday, so except for the one Charlie dropped on the floor, frosting-side down, we were able to sing “Happy Birthday,” and she was able to blow out some candles.

Still, it should’ve been more.

Especially for someone like Elysha. I was recently lamenting the life decisions of a certain friend, who is choosing stasis over struggle and failing to pursue goals he once set for himself simply because pursuing those goals would involve hard work, sacrifice, and conquering fear.

“I don’t understand complacency,” I said to her. “Don’t people understand how quickly regret will catch up with them?”

“You don’t think I’m complacent?” Elysha asked, which was the strangest, dumbest question she may have ever asked me.

Elysha is anything but complacent. First and foremost, she’s a constantly evolving, endlessly expanding mother, spouse, daughter, sister, and friend to so many. Always in motion, always seeking to help, always striving to be better than she was the day before.

She’s also a kindergarten teacher – a ridiculous job that no adult should be forced to endure – who also spent every weekend and many weeknights last year studying to become an ESOL teacher.

When we launched Speak Up in 2013, I asked if she wanted to host the shows. She didn’t. Standing before audiences and performing was nothing she ever wanted or dreamed of doing, but she did it anyway, deciding she didn’t want to take a backseat in our fledgling business. She did the hard, scary, challenging thing, and she excelled.

Today, she is the most important part of Speak Up. She is the consistently funny, constantly connective, endlessly empathetic face that our audiences have come to adore.

A few years ago, she decided to learn to play the ukulele. Today, she is a ukulele player. She’s even played and sung in public to large audiences of strangers.

She’s a cook and baker, a knitter and a sewer, and a reader and a writer. She’s decorated our home. She found two cats that have brought us such joy when her husband wasn’t so sure it was a good idea.

Having never run before, she decided to run a 5K a few years ago, so she trained for months and did.

Having never decorated for Christmas, she now transforms our home into a Hallmark greeting card every year.

Complacent? Hardly.

Deserving of a better birthday? Definitely.

Antithesis of a nepo baby

There’s been a lot of talk around Hollywood about nepo babies.

Nepo baby, short for nepotism baby, are the children of celebrities who have succeeded in careers similar to those of their parents. The implication is that because their parents already had connections to an industry, the child could use those connections to build a career in that industry.

Nepo babies bristle at this notion, of course, preferring to believe that they earned their success through talent and hard work, but when your mother is Melanie Griffith and your father is Don Johnson, it’s not hard to see how someone like Dakota Johnson got a leg up on the competition.

Through this examination of familial ties across stage and screen, it was discovered that many Hollywood stars have parents who also worked in the entertainment industry, making it much more insular, less meritorious, and less talent-driven than once thought.

Of course, this is nothing new. Nepo babies have existed outside Hollywood forever, too. If a child starts working in Mommy or Daddy’s company and eventually takes over the helm, that person is also a nepo baby. It’s not to say that they didn’t work hard, but their position in the company was decidedly less earned than someone who entered a company or organization knowing no one and working their way up the ladder.

When you start with Mommy or Daddy at the top of the ladder, it’s not surprising that you eventually find yourself there, too.

It’s fine, though. Good for them. Nepo babies were simply lucky enough to have parents working hard and clearing a path for them. I know it doesn’t sit well with some who prefer to think of themselves as bootstrapping, self-made business people, but it’s too bad.

Don’t work in your parents’ company if you want to work your way up a ladder and be considered self-made.

Enjoy your good fortune, and if you have a modicum of self-respect and decency, acknowledge that good fortune whenever possible.

All of this leads us to Adam Driver, who I heard interviewed this week.

Following high school, Driver’s career path went something like this:

Applied to and rejected by Juilliard
Worked as a telemarketer for a basement waterproofing company
Sold vacuum cleaners door-to-door
Enlisted in the Marine Corps following the 9/11 attacks
Served as a United States Marine for almost three years
Broke his sternum and was medically discharged
Enrolled full-time at the University of Indianapolis
Worked full-time at a Target distribution center while in college
Reapplied to Julliard and was accepted
Launched his acting career

His mother was a paralegal, and his stepfather was a minister.

I thought Adam Driver was a fine actor before learning about his journey to Hollywood, but I never thought of Driver as someone I would enjoy spending time with. Based only on his onscreen performances, he struck me as sober and brooding.

After learning about his life – the opposite of a nepo baby in every regard – I would love to spend time getting to know Adam Driver if the opportunity presented itself.

I also like to think that the angry, self-righteous nepo babies of the world whose success is not viewed entirely through the lens of talent and hard work find the mere existence of someone like Adam Driver annoying.

How dare he climb his way to the top of the entertainment world without any family member opening a door for him.

The pandemic didn’t kill it. Adults did.

A good rule of thumb:

Whenever something is taken away from students – field trips, clubs, learning opportunities, athletic events, assemblies, technology, traditions, supplies, time for play, or anything else – it’s almost always because removing that thing made adults’ lives easier.

Don’t allow anyone to tell you money became an issue.

Don’t let anyone tell you the pandemic killed it.

Don’t permit anyone to say that risk management deemed it too dangerous or that other priorities squeezed it out.

Don’t allow anyone to make any nonsense excuse as to why children are being denied an opportunity today that existed yesterday.

It’s almost always because the removal of yesterday’s opportunity made life easier for adults in some way.

If the school your children attend is less engaging, less dynamic, less inclusive, less exciting, or (worst of all) less fun than it once was, it’s almost always because adults, usually residing in ivory towers but occasionally on the ground level, didn’t want the hassle or struggle or the workload anymore.

Making your life or your job a little easier is almost always a good thing, but when children are involved, it often sucks.

Please don’t compliment yourself

Someone fairly well-known said something remarkably complimentary about me sometime last month. It was one of the best things that could ever be said about me as a teacher or author or storyteller or consultant or parent or husband or human being.

I’m not telling what was said or who said it.

This is because I understand how small, weak, and sad it looks when a person spends even a single second broadcasting compliments about themselves to other people.

Or even worse, lying about compliments never said to them at all.

Donald Trump’s endless line of perpetually unidentified, teary-eyed generals comes to mind.

I mention this because I’ve read three memoirs in the past year that are filled with page after page of famous, successful people writing endlessly about the compliments they’ve received from even more famous, more successful people.

Was their editor afraid to tell them how contemptible and unlikeable these awful sentences made them sound?

I’ve also received a handful of emails from strangers in the past month or two complimenting themselves in an attempt to convince me to work with them. It’s so odd. When you tell me that you’re “the most talented writer I’ll ever meet” or “adored by audiences” or a “true visionary,” do you really expect me to be impressed?

Or even believe you?

Conversely, I’m nearly finished reading Bob Odenkirk’s memoir “Comedy Comedy Comedy Drama.” This book is filled with humility. Odenkirk relentlessly credits the efforts of others for his success. He describes his failures in great detail and never assigns blame to anyone but himself. He exposes his flaws, foibles, and missteps on every page.

I liked Bob Odenkirk before I began reading. Now I adore him.

Those other authors? The ones who spend page after page recounting the kind words once said about them?

I liked each of them before I began reading. Now I like them a lot less.

In one instance, I don’t really like them at all anymore.

The same holds true in all walks of life.

When you tell me that you’re a thought leader, the very last thing I think you are is a thought leader.

When you tell me that you’re a game-changer, I don’t believe you, and I don’t think your colleagues believe you, either.

When you tell me that you’re a trailblazing thinker, a pioneering creator, a norm-shattering innovator, or a next-level influencer, you don’t sound like any of those things to me.

Instead, you sound underconfident, uncertain, and desperate.

Humility signals strength.

Crediting others signals confidence.

I’m not religious, but the Bible offers some excellent advice on this topic:

Proverbs 27:2 Let another man praise thee, and not thine own mouth; A stranger, and not thine own lips.

Or author C.S. Lewis:

“Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less.”

Or perhaps best of all, the words of  Matshona Dhliwayo:

“Let your work speak for itself:
If poor, it will remain silent.
If average, it will whisper.
If good, it will talk.
If great, it will shout.
If genius, it will sing.”

Things I don’t know

I am terrible at identifying types of things. It’s probably my lack of attention to detail, but it’s also ridiculous.

I honestly can’t identify so many specific types of things within so many different groups.

Yesterday, I heard someone say, “I need a new pair of Doc Martens.” I knew they were talking about shoes, but I had no idea what a Doc Marten was. I couldn’t tell you if a Doc Marten is a sneaker or a shoe or a boot. Gender-specific? Color specific?

No idea.

I also can’t look at a car and tell you its make or model.

I can’t look at a house and tell the difference between a colonial and a cape and whatever other styles of homes exist.

I’m an ignoramus when it comes to all of these things and so many more. The incomplete list includes:

Shoes
Automobiles
Houses
Flowers
Dog breeds
Cheeses
Birds
Colleges

In fairness, I never engaged in a traditional college search, so my lack of awareness makes at least a little sense. I finally made my way to college five years after graduating from high school, so I didn’t make the college visits that punctuated so many students’ junior and senior years. When I began my college career, it was a local community college, chosen due to its proximity. Later, I was offered full scholarships from Trinity College, Yale University, and Wesleyan College, so I wasn’t going to expand my college search beyond those three schools.

So I’m not familiar with the location, size, or nature of most colleges and universities. When you tell me that your daughter is applying to Swarthmore or Sarah Lawrence or Barnard, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I can’t tell you where any of those schools are located and what they are like. Unless I attended parties at the school when I was younger or was hired to speak at the school when I was older, I’m fairly clueless about most institutions of higher learning.

I also struggle with foods of all kinds.

Elysha once asked me to pick up a mango at the grocery store. I came home with what we later determined was a papaya.

They look nothing alike.

I can’t identify items on a sushi, Thai, Chinese, and Indian menu. Mexican still confounds me at times.

I wasn’t sure what prosciutto was last weekend, and I’m still not entirely sure now.

I only recently learned what makes a Caesar salad a Caesar salad.

I know almost nothing about spices or herbs.

I can’t tell you the contents of most alcoholic drinks. I can’t tell you the difference between an espresso and a cappuccino and a latte.

Granted, I never tasted coffee, and I drink alcohol on exceedingly rare occasions, but still, I know nothing.

Enormous categories of everyday things are a mystery to me.

In my eyes, dogs are dogs.
Flowers are flowers.
Cars are cars.

I see the world in very simple terms, absent large swaths of specificity.

Dummy me.

New Year’s Resolutions 2024

At the beginning of every year, I establish a list of goals (or New Year’s resolutions) for the coming calendar year. I post this list on my blog and social media to hold myself accountable.

I recommend this to everyone. I’ve been engaged in this process since 2010, and I’m convinced it’s helped me be more productive and successful, even though my average goal completion rate over the past 14 years is 55.5%.

I’ve learned that setting exceptionally high goals and accepting inevitable failure is critical to achievement.

I’ve also legitimately changed my life as a result of this process. Previous goals have led me to daily meditation, learning to cook, flossing without missing a day in more than a decade, and exercising regularly. Many goals that once appeared on my list are now simply things that I do regularly without thought or effort.

An unexpected side benefit has been the occasional assistance from readers in completing some of my goals through advice, recommendations, and sometimes even direct intervention. Five years ago, the amazing Kathryn Gonnerman turned the blog that I had written to my children for the first six years of their existence into six enormous, beautiful tomes that my kids are constantly reading today. They are some of the most precious things we own.

She knocked one of my goals right off my list.

People are exceptionally kind, and I never turn down an offer of assistance.

The interest in these posts on my yearly goals and monthly updates has been equally unexpected. I often feel like updating my progress each month is the least interesting thing I write, done only for me, but apparently, readers disagree.

They are some of my most-read posts. Tens of thousands of people read these posts monthly.

Many people express appreciation for my willingness to share my failures openly. I think it’s easy to look at someone and think they do everything well, but when you look under the hood, it’s easy to see that not everything is firing on all cylinders.

I’m simply lifting the hood and allowing people to see my imperfection and outright failure.

So here are this year’s goals. As always, I choose goals focused on process over product. With a couple of exceptions, I don’t write goals that depend upon the decisions of others to complete. So instead of writing:

“I will publish a novel.”

… my goal would be:

“I will write a novel.”

I have control over the quality and quantity of my writing. But I have no control over whether or not an editor will deem it worthy of purchase and publication. Many great authors remain undiscovered until well after their death, but thank goodness they continue to write in the face of rejection.

Process over product. Make your goals attainable by you. When setting goals, we must make them dependent upon our own effort and not the whims and predilections of others.

They must also be specific and measurable. “Lose weight” is a terrible goal. “Lose 10 pounds” is much better.

I always reserve the right to add to or edit a goal on the list when and if conditions change throughout the year.

My 2024 New Year’s ResolutionsPERSONAL FITNESS

1. Don’t die.

Recommended by my friend, Charles, years ago, and still worthy of the first position on the list.

As always, I plan on living forever or die trying.

2. Lose 10 pounds.

I lost nearly 40 pounds in 2023, which was twice as much as I had planned or expected. As a result, I am now within striking distance of my high school weight when I was competing in the district championships as a pole vaulter.

Years ago, my doctor suggested that my high school weight would be an ideal weight for me. I told my doctor that she was ridiculous to think I would ever return to that weight. I thought she was crazy.

Sadly, she’s no longer my doctor, so she’ll never see my progress, but at least she can’t say, “I told you so,” at this year’s physical.

I’m a little more than ten pounds away from my high school weight. I plan to make that happen in 2024.

3. Do a targeted push-up workout at least four times per week. 

For over a  decade, I’ve been doing 200 push-ups a day – typically four sets of 50 or five sets of 40. However, after some research, I’ve learned that doing a variety of push-ups is far better for me in terms of building muscle and exercising different muscle groups. So, rather than targeting a specific number of push-ups each day, I plan to do a targeted push-up workout every four days, varying the type and number of push-ups based on the guidance of an expert.

Push-ups with one foot raised in the air
Push-ups from various inclined positions
Push-ups from multiple hand positions
Push-ups with weight on my back
Push-ups with elastic bands for resistance

Last week, I did push-ups with Charlie on my back. I never thought I could do even a single push-up with a 70-pound boy sitting atop me, but I managed to squeeze out four. Maybe not great for my back, but he and I will never forget it.

This is my push-up plan for 2024.

4. Complete 100 sit-ups four times per week. 

This is a goal that I’ve been achieving for more than a decade. Four sets of 25 or three sets of 33, depending on the day.

I plan to repeat this goal in 2024.

5. Complete three one-minute planks four times a week.

This is a goal from previous years that I am continuing in 2024.

6. Cycle for at least five days every week. 

I stopped going to the gym and started riding my indoor and outdoor bike at the onset of the pandemic. It turned out to be a silver lining in that difficult time. I went on 522 rides – indoor and outdoor – in 2023. I hope to meet or exceed that number in 2024, but five rides per week is a far more reasonable goal.

7. Meet or beat the USGA’s average golfing handicap for men of 14.2. 

My current handicap is 14.8. I plan to meet or beat the average handicap for male golfers in America.

This is one of those rare goals I have pinned to achievement rather than effort. I could set a golfing goal based on the number of times spent taking lessons, practicing at the range, and playing the game, but my desire to improve demands I set a numerical goal predicated on performance.

Admittedly, that number only represents the average performance of American golfers, so it’s not exactly a lofty goal, but it’s slightly lofty for me.

WRITING CAREER

8. Complete my eighth novel.

I’m writing a sequel to “Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend.” I plan to finish this book in 2024.

9. Write my next Storyworthy book.

I wrote a “storytelling for business” book in 2023 – Stories Sell: Storyworthy Strategies to Grow Your Business and Brand – available everywhere on June 11, 2024. I’m not sure what the next topic will be – storytelling for students, parents, healing, leadership – but I’ll choose the topic with the help of my agent and editor and write that book in 2024.

10. Write, edit, and revise my golf memoir.

I wrote a memoir about ten years ago based on a summer spent golfing with friends. It was a good book back then, so I intend to approach it with fresh eyes and make it even better in 2024, with hopes that my agent will sell the book to a publisher in 2024

11. Write my “Advice for Kids” book.

For most of my teaching career, I have offered my students “life lessons” – moments of learning that are often direct, amusing, helpful, and almost always attached to a story.

In 2021, while offering one of these life lessons to my class, a student named Alexis asked that I begin writing these life lessons down. Unlike any student before, she became a scholar of my advice, treating each lesson like gold.

So I did. Thus I have an extensive collection of meaningful lessons told via amusing anecdotes and stories. My agent thinks that my amusing, sarcastic, and direct nature might appeal to kids, and my 25 years as an award-winning teacher might appeal to parents, so I plan to assemble, expand, and craft these lessons into a book by the end of the year.

12. Write/complete at least three new picture books, including one with a female, non-white protagonist.

I achieved this goal in 2023 by writing four new picture books.

I hope to sell at least one this year.

My goal remains the same in 2024.

Also, for the record, all of my picture books are excellent and worthy of publication. Having spent 25 years with the targeted readers for these books – children – I know what I’m talking about, so if you know a brilliant, savvy children’s book editor, send them my way.

13. Write about my childhood in partnership with my sister, Kelli, at least twice per month. 

Last month, Kelli texted me:

“We should work together again to preserve the stories of our childhood before I get too old and start to forget. I am 50 now!”

Kelli has one of the best memories of anyone I’ve ever met. People are surprised at what I remember from childhood, but compared to her, I remember nothing. She is a steel trap.

Years ago, we began writing about our childhood together on a blog entitled 107 Federal Street. That writing still exists. In 2024, I’d like to find a way to return to writing with my sister in the hope of recovering even more childhood memories and producing something valuable in the process.

14. Launch a Substack.

Substack is an online platform that provides publishing, payment, analytics, and design infrastructure to support subscription newsletters. It allows writers to send digital newsletters directly to subscribers and get paid for their work.

Substack reached out to me last year, asking if I might want to join the platform based on my books and online writing. In 2024, I plan to launch a Substack focused primarily on productivity, creativity, and the pursuit of happiness.

Sort of a compendium to my book, “Someday Is Today.”

15. Write a new solo show.

I wrote my first solo show, “You’re a Monster, Matthew Dicks,” in 2023. I love the result.

I plan to write my next show in 2024.

16. Write a musical.

My writing partner, Kaia, and I have the bones of a musical, but I have yet to write a word of it even though I made it a goal for the last two years. I plan to write the damn thing in 2024 so that Kaia can write the music.

We hope to perform it together once complete, which would require me to sing, which would terrify me, which is why I want to do it. I find things that scare me, and then I do them, and I am happy every single time.

17. Submit at least three Op-Ed pieces to The New York Times for consideration.

This has been a goal for the past five years, which I failed to achieve in 2023 for the first time, probably because the New York Times has rejected everything sent their way.

I plan to correct that in 2024, including at least one Modern Love submission.

18. Write at least four letters to my father.

I completed this goal at the last minute in 2023. No response from my father, but I can only extend myself and hope for the best.

I’ll keep hoping in 2024 by writing to him at least four times.

19. Write 150 letters.

I wrote 224 letters in 2023 to a wide variety of people, including students, former students, friends, former teachers, family members, neighbors, authors, politicians, podcast hosts, business owners, restaurant servers, and many more.

So many beautiful, unexpected, unforgettable interactions took place as a result of my communication. I plan to repeat this goal, which has been on my list for years, in 2024, but increase the goal from 100 to 150 letters.

About 12 letters per month.

I strongly recommend you establish a similar goal. It’s been a wondrous addition to my life.

20. Write to at least six authors about a book I love. 

On New Year’s Eve of 2021, I received an email from a woman who read my first novel in middle school and has followed my work ever since. She credited me for helping her fall in love with reading and has just finished writing her first novel. It was a joyous way to end the year.

Oddly enough, I received a similar email on New Year’s Eve this year.

I decided to do the same for authors whose books I adore.

I wrote six letters to authors in 2022 and 2023. One of them, Kate DiCamillo, wrote back! Joy!

My goal is to do this at least six times again in 2024.

STORYTELLING/SPEAKING CAREER

21. Perform a new solo show.

I performed “You’re a Monster, Matthew Dicks” three times to sold-out audiences at Theater Works in Hartford.

It was the thrill of a lifetime.

I plan to repeat the thrill in 2024. I am already in talks about locations and dates for the new show.

22. Complete the re-recording of Storyworthy For Business. 

“Storyworthy” for Business is complete and available for purchase. Find it and much more at storyworthymd.com.

I want to produce a much-improved version of the course ASAP. My goal is for the course to serve as an essential compendium to the book that will be published in June.

23. Record and produce at least two new Storyworthy courses.

I currently have four courses available online:

Finding Stories
Anatomy of a Story
Humor: Volume #1
Storyworthy for Business

In addition to re-recording Storyworthy for Business, I plan to produce at least two more courses in 2024. Perhaps many more.

24. Produce a total of six Speak Up storytelling events in 2023

Since we launched Speak Up back in 2013, we have produced a total of 118 shows.

2013: 3
2014: 8
2015: 12
2016: 17
2017: 17
2018: 13
2019: 17
2020: 12
2021: 8
2022: 6
2023: 5

Elysha and I failed to hit our goal of six shows in 2o23 because three venues unexpectedly canceled shows because of red tape.

We plan to produce at least six Speak Up storytelling events in 2024.

25. Submit pitches to at least three upcoming TEDx events, hoping to be accepted by one.

I’ll be speaking at TEDxBU in April of this year. It will be the twelfth time I speak at a TEDx conference.

I plan to pitch a new talk to at least three upcoming TEDx conferences for late 2024 or early 2025.

26. Attend at least eight Moth events with the intention of telling a story.

My Moth attendance ever since attending my first Moth StorySLAM in 2011 has been:

2011: 4
2012: 9
2013: 19
2014: 19
2015: 31
2016: 31
2017: 20
2018: 15
2019: 22
2020: 15
2021: 12
2022: 18
2023: 19

Note that this represents the number of times I attended a Moth event, including StorySLAMs, GrandSLAMs, Main Stage performances, The Moth Ball, and more. It does not represent the number of times I’ve actually performed.

Sadly, my name does not always get drawn from the hat.

As opportunities to speak and perform at other venues for various organizations have increased, the time I’ve had to dedicate to Moth events has decreased, even though they remain my favorite shows in the world.

Give me a Moth StorySLAM any day.

Attending eight Moth events in 2024 is a low number given my previous record, but my children are getting more involved in activities that I want to be sure to attend, so I want to ensure balance in my life while striving to achieve goals.

27. Win at least one Moth StorySLAM.

Last year, my goal was to win one Moth StorySLAM, which I did.

It was also my lowest win total since I began telling stories for The Moth. Since 2011, I’ve won 56% of the Moth StorySLAMs in which I’ve competed for a total of 59 victories, but last year, my winning percentage was only 20%.

I only won one StorySLAM in five tries.

That included three second-place finishes and many times when my name remained stubbornly in the hat.

Though I’m hoping for more than one victory, that is the goal I’m setting again for 2024.

This goal depends upon the decisions of others (which I try to avoid when setting goals), but competing in StorySLAMs isn’t enough to justify the goal.

I need to win.

28. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

I won one GrandSLAM in 2014.
I won two GrandSLAMs in 2015.
I won one GrandSLAM in 2016.
I failed to win a GrandSLAM in 2017.
I won two GrandSLAMs in 2018.
I failed to win a GrandSLAM in 2019.
I failed to win a GrandSLAM in 2020.
I won one GrandSLAM in 2021.
I won two GrandSLAMs in 2022.

Last year, I failed to win a GrandSLAM in three attempts.

Overall, I’ve won 9 GrandSLAMs in 29 attempts for a 26% win rate.

Much harder to win a GrandSLAM with all of those annoyingly excellent storytellers, not to mention the four times I was defeated by stories that I helped to find and craft.

Arming my competition. A terrible strategy.

This goal also depends upon the decisions of others (including how quickly my turn in a GrandSLAM comes up), but competing in a Moth GrandSLAM just isn’t enough to justify the goal.

Once again, I need to win.

29. Pitch “You’re a Monster, Matthew Dicks” to at least a dozen theaters and/or directors in 2023. 

I performed and recorded “You’re a Monster, Matthew Dicks” three times at Theater Works in Hartford in 2023. I’d like to perform it again in 2024, so my goal is to pitch the show to theaters and/or directors in hopes of landing additional venues for the show in 2024

30. Produce at least 24 episodes of our podcast Speak Up Storytelling.

I’m so excited to finally begin podcasting again in 2024. Elysha and I had tens of thousands of listeners before the pandemic sent us to virtual instruction and brought our podcast to an abrupt end. Elysha’s degree program followed, further preventing us from recording, but throughout the last almost three years, people have continued to listen and ask for more.

Every week, I hear from people wondering when and if Elysha and I will record again. Some have listened to the show’s more than 100 episodes more than once.

We plan to begin recording and producing new episodes in the first weeks of 2024, and I hope to produce at least one new episode every two weeks, thus finishing 2024 with at least 24 new episodes.

31. Perform stand-up at least six times. 

I performed stand-up four times in 2023, including as a part of the New York City Comedy Festival and as an opener for a musician in Boston.

Six times is not a lot in terms of stand-up, and I hope the number ends up higher, but I’ll set a goal for six and see what happens.

32. Pitch three stories to This American Life.

I had a story on This American Life in May of 2014. Since then, I’ve occasionally pitched stories to someone I know who works for the show, and last year, I pitched three stories through more formal channels.

This year, I plan to pitch the show at least three more times in 2024.

33. Submit at least three pitches to Marc Maron’s WTF podcast.

When I list possible publicity opportunities for my publicist, Marc Maron’s WTF has always been at the top of my list. I’ve been listening since his first episode, and I would love to have a conversation with him. I’ve pitched myself to him before, including three times a year for the past four years, and I’ll do it again, at least three times, in 2024.

34. Send a newsletter to readers at least 50 times. 

One newsletter per week should be easy, given how my business operates, but I still want to connect via my newsletter in meaningful ways in 2024. An average of once per week is a good number.

HOME

35. Organize the basement.

Last year’s plan for my basement was to remove unnecessary items. That goal was accomplished in 2023.

This year, I plan to organize it well so that everything has a place, finally, bins of children’s clothes are sensibly arranged, and anything no longer wanted is donated. We may be finishing our basement in 2024, which will make this goal a necessity.

Either way, I will have a clean and organized basement in 2024.

36. Clear the garage of unwanted items.

This should be a relatively easy goal to complete. Like the basement, I spent 2023 organizing my garage, constantly battling with Charlie about putting things away and not turning rakes, ski poles, sleds, and power tools into bizarre contraptions left all over the front yard.

This year, I simply need to arrange for large items – a broken lawn mower, decrepit lawn furniture, an old gas grill, and some of Elysha’s old school supplies – to be removed.

FAMILY/FRIENDS

37. Text or call my brother or sister once per month. 

This was a goal achieved in 2023 that I plan to repeat in 2024.

My brother, sister and I don’t talk enough. I will speak to either one at least once per week via text or phone call.

38. Take at least one photo of my children every day.

A successful goal from 2020 through 2023 that returns in 2024.

As I scanned through my photos on a plane ride to Indiana in 2019, I noticed a decline in photos taken of the kids over the years. This is only natural. When a child is born, photos are taken every nine seconds, but this burst of photography subsides a bit as time passes.

One photo per day, every day when I see the kids, in 2024 is the goal once again.

39. Take at least one photo with Elysha and me each week.

A goal I failed to complete in 2022 and 2023 returns again in 2024.

Even worse than the decline in photos of the kids is the rarity of photos of just Elysha and me. We need to rectify this as well, so I will take a photograph of just the two of us at least once per week.

40. Plan a reunion of the Heavy Metal Playhouse.

My friend Bengi and I lived in a home known as the Heavy Metal Playhouse from 1989 to 1993. It was four of the best years of my life. Enormous parties, the closest of friendships, and the wildness of youth left an indelible mark on me. While I stay in touch with many of my friends from those days, I have not seen many of them in a long time. We have attempted to plan a reunion in the past without success.

Starting in 2016, I’ve tried to make a reunion happen but failed. The shift to virtual meetings in 2021 convinced me that a virtual reunion via Zoom might be the best option, given some of our friends are spread out around the country.

We had a reunion scheduled in 2022, but vacations and illness derailed that event. I plan on making it happen once again in 2024.

41. I will not comment positively or negatively about the physical appearance of any person save my wife and children to reduce the focus on physical appearance in our culture overall.

In 2016, I decided to avoid all negative comments about a person’s physical appearance.

In 2017, I decided to add positive comments (save my wife, children, and in-laws) to reduce the focus on physical appearance in our culture overall.

I’ve achieved this goal for the past six years. By writing about it, I’ve also convinced many other people to adopt the policy as well.

Others think I’m crazy, which is an indication that my mission is good and just. The best and most important work we do will undoubtedly be criticized by many.

For this reason, I will repeat this goal in 2024, even though it’s now simply become something I do.

Perhaps you could, too.

42. Surprise Elysha at least 12 times.

A completed goal from the last six years (21 surprises in 2023) that I will repeat in 2024.

43. Play poker at least six times.

I love poker. I paid for our honeymoon with profits from poker. I made a mortgage payment in 2012 with poker profits when it was still legal online. I am a very good poker player who stopped playing regularly in 2015 as I shifted my time to writing and storytelling and online poker became illegal.

But over the past few years, I’ve been making a more concerted effort to play.

I’ve failed to achieve this goal in 2022 and 2023. I’m hoping to make it happen in 2024.

44. Spend at least six days with my best friend of more than 30 years.

Bengi and I met in a Milford, MA, McDonald’s back in 1987, and we have been friends ever since. We once lived together (in the aforementioned Heavy Metal Playhouse) and started our DJ business in 1996. We have been through a great deal together, but in the last few years, we have seen less of each other even though we live 15 minutes apart. Our interests have shifted away from the things each likes to do, and our families are demanding more of our time, but that’s no excuse for not getting together more often.

Six days is reasonable, and I exceeded this goal in 2023.

MUSIC

45. Memorize the lyrics to at least five favorite songs. 

A completed goal from 2022 and 2o23 that returns in 2024.

You know those songs you’ve listened to all your life but never found the time to learn the lyrics?

I will rectify this by learning the lyrics to a few of my favorites in this category.

46. Practice the flute at least four times per week.

I’ve spent the last two years trying to learn to play the piano on my own without a lot of progress. This year, my musical goal is shifting to the flute.

I played the flute as a kid, and though I haven’t touched a flute in decades, I can still remember all of the fingerings and can still read music, so this year, I plan to return to my flute playing glory years before I switch to playing the bassoon and the drums.

I’ve purchased a flute already and am excited to get started.

MISCELLANEOUS PROJECTS

47. Read at least 12 books.

I read 25 books in 2023 – well above my goal of an even dozen.

I’d recently noticed that podcasts have been crowding out books, but Stephen King rightfully said, “If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.”

Americans read an average of 12 books per year, but the median number of books read per year is just four, meaning that the blessed folks reading 100 books or more per year (like Clara) are artificially boosting the average.

I’ll shoot for 12. One per month.

48. Finish reading TIME’s 100 Best Children’s Books of All Time. 

I failed to read the complete list in 2023, so I intend to finish the job in 2024.

49. Unify my passwords using a password manager.

I use One Password to maintain many but not all of my passwords. This creates problems when attempting to access services that I have not migrated over to One Password, and it’s especially challenging with as many email accounts that I need to maintain.

I plan to unify all passwords with a single system in 2024. I really should’ve done this long ago.

50. Learn to use QuickBooks for my business.

I’ve been doing invoicing and accounting for my business with fine but not exactly robust online software. I need to begin paying employees and accepting electronic payments from clients, which requires me to learn to use QuickBooks.

This is an essential goal for early 2024 that I am not at all excited about doing.

51. Rectify the heating problem in my studio.

I had a studio built into a basement room two years ago, but we did not add any heat to the room, which makes working and recording a chilly prospect from November through March or April.

This year, I’ll solve this problem by either extending heat into the room or adding enough electric heaters to do the job.

52. Learn the names of every employee who works at my school.

There was a time – years ago – when the number of adults working in my school numbered 50 at most. Today, with teaching assistants, paraprofessionals, and other specialists, that number has grown considerably. As a result, I often walk by people whose names I do not know during the workday.

I plan to rectify this in 2024.

53. Assemble a complete toolbox.

I am not a handy person. Hammering a nail into a wall is a challenge for me. Making it even more of a challenge is not having the right tools and having the tools I own scattered to the wind. This year, I intend to stock and organize my toolbox with everything reasonably expected from someone who owns a home and could theoretically make minor repairs.

This might just mean purchasing a pre-stocked toolbox, but either way, I will have all of my tools and the right ones in one place by the end of 2024.

54. Edit our wedding footage into a movie of the day.

In 2023, I finally extracted the footage from our wedding day from a 20-year-old Apple computer. The movie I made of our wedding day was not retrievable, however, so I need to recreate a movie of our wedding day so that I’m not stuck watching raw footage.

I plan on doing so in 2024.

55. Memorize three new poems.

Back in college, I was required to memorize and recite one poem every week for a poetry class, and many of those poems are still locked in my brain today.

I also have several French poems still memorized from French class in high school.

I like having these poems memorized. It’s fun to be able to recite them whenever I please. About ten years ago, on a rainy day at Camp Jewell, we conducted Theater Olympics for our 100 or so fifth graders. One of the events was the “Unknown Talent Show,” where the teachers had to perform a talent that no one knew they possessed.

I recited French poetry to my principal, who stood on a chair with a mop over his head.

Memorization is also an excellent way to preserve long-term brain health.

I failed to complete this goal in 2023, so I hope to achieve it in 2024.

56. Complete my Eagle Scout project.

Back in 1988, I was 17 year-old-Boy Scout preparing to complete my Eagle Scout service project to earn the rank I had dreamed about for most of my childhood. In truth, I was qualified to earn my Eagle rank almost two years before, having earned the required merit badges and more, but my service project had been sitting on the back burner, waiting to be completed.

I needed a parent or two to light a fire under my butt and support me in this endeavor, but I wasn’t graced with that level of parental involvement at the time.

I planned to plant trees in a cemetery in my hometown of Blackstone, MA. My troop had planted trees in that same cemetery about five years before, but those trees had died. I wanted to replace them and complete the work that we had initially been promised.

Then, on December 23, 1988, I was in a car accident that nearly killed me. As a result of the accident, I was in a full-length leg cast for three months and required an enormous amount of healing and recovery. With just three months left until I turned 18 (the deadline to complete an Eagle service project), my parents requested an extension, which was denied.

In retrospect, I suspect that my parents never applied for that extension.

My childhood dream of becoming an Eagle Scout was over. It’s one of my life’s greatest regrets.

Maybe the greatest.

But I recently decided that completing that Eagle Scout project would be good even though it won’t come with my much desired Eagle Scout rank.

It feels right. Maybe I’ll feel a little better about the past.

57. Post my progress regarding these resolutions on this blog and social media on the first day of every month.

Resolution Update: 2023 in review

At the end of each month, and now at the end of the year, I report on the progress of my New Year’s resolutions (or lack thereof).

Overall, I completed 33 of my 50 goals for a completion percentage of 66%.

This is higher than my 14-year average of 55.5% and my third-highest success rate ever.

Here are the previous year’s results.

2010: 44%
2011: 62%
2012: 30%
2013: 60%
2014: 60%
2015: 59%
2016: 59%
2017: 71%
2018: 50%
2019: 48%
2020: 54%
2021: 45%
2022: 69%
2023: 66%

Some of my goals were missed for understandable reasons.

Elysha and I failed to produce six Speak Up shows in 2023, but three were canceled because of problems with the venue that had nothing to do with us.

I failed to write to three colleges, explaining why they should hire me because I decided that I didn’t want to be hired by colleges. As much as I’d love to instruct new teachers, I think the bureaucracy would kill me.

I failed to re-record my Storyworthy for Business course after realizing it would be best if it were married to my upcoming book, which needed to be finalized first.

Others were very much my fault, and some were downright disappointing.

Failing to take a weekly photo of Elysha and myself, failing to play poker, and failing to complete my Eagle Scout project immediately come to mind.

Nevertheless, 2023 was an excellent year in terms of overall goal completion. Here are my results through the end of 2023.

PERSONAL FITNESS

1. Don’t die.

Done. I am still alive, which, for me, given my history, is saying something.

2. Lose 20 pounds.

Done. I lost a total of 34 pounds in 2023, nearly doubling my initial goal and requiring an entirely new wardrobe.

Remarkably, I changed almost nothing about my diet. Instead, I transitioned from a moderate daily exercise routine to an incredibly intense one, primarily on my outdoor and stationary bike.

Happily, I still eat my fair share of cheeseburgers and ice cream, and nearly every morning begins with an Egg McMuffin.

Even better, my blood pressure and cholesterol are outstanding.

Exercise is good.

3. Do at least 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, and three one-minute planks five days a week.

Done.

4. Cycle for at least five days every week. 

Done. I finished the year with 522 rides on my outdoor and stationary bike, averaging 1.43 daily rides.

5. Improve my golfing handicap by two strokes. 

Done. My handicap at the start of the year was 17.6.

My handicap is now 14.8.

WRITING CAREER

6. Complete my eighth novel.

Fail. Progress continues, but I did not complete the writing of this book in 2023.

7. Write my next Storyworthy book.

Done. The book will be published on June 11, 2024.

8. Write/complete at least three new picture books, including one with a female, non-white protagonist.

Done. Three books are complete.

“Operation Beaver Drop” is going out to publishers soon.

“Rock a Bye Baby” and “Duel in the Sky” will be sent to my agent shortly.

“Rock a Bye Baby” features a female, non-white protagonist.

9. Write a new solo show.

Done. “You’re a Monster, Matthew Dicks” was written in 2023.

10. Perform a new solo show.

Done. “You’re a Monster, Matthew Dicks was performed to sold-out audiences on July 30 and 31 and August 1.

11. Write a musical.

Fail.

My friend Kaia and I are writing a musical that we will also perform, even though I cannot sing. She will write the music and lyrics. She and I will write the story. We brainstormed ideas in August and came up with some exciting stuff. A new concept and some ideas for songs.

I need to write some of the story for Kaia to begin writing music. I did not do any of that writing in 2023.

12. Submit at least five Op-Ed pieces to The New York Times for consideration.

Fail. For the first time in five years, I failed to submit anything to the New York Times for consideration.

13. Write at least four letters to my father.

Done. I squeezed in three letters in the last two months of 2023.

14. Write 100 letters in 2023.

Done.

Another 16 letters were sent in December, bringing the total number to 224.

15. Convert 365 Days of Elysha into a book.

Done. I gave it to Elysha on Christmas Day. It turned out fantastic.

16. Read at least 12 books. 

Done. Three books were read in December.

“Sure, I’ll Join Your Cult” by Maria Bamford
”Everywhere an Oink Oink” by David Mamet
”Comedy Book” by Jesse David Fox

A total of 25 books in 2023. More than doubling my goal.

Books read in 2023:

“Sapiens” by Yuval Harari“Life’s a Gamble” by Mike Sexton“The Sea We Swim In” by Frank Rose“Born a Crime” by Trevor Noah“This Will All Be Over Soon” by Cecily Strong“Magic Words” by Jonah Berger“The Science of Storytelling” by William Storr“Slayers and Vampires” by Edward Gross and Mark Altman“Hooked: How to Produce Habit-Forming Products” by Nir Eyal“Tough Sh*t” by Kevin Smith“From Saturday Night to Sunday Night” by Dick Ebersol“The Ship Beneath the Ice” by Mensun Bound“Nobody Wants to Read Your Sh*t” by Steven Pressfield“The Wager” by David Grann“The Other Wes Moore” by Wes Moore“Million Dollar Maverick” by Alan Weiss“Going Infinite” by Michael Lewis“Enough” by Cassidy Hutchinson“Holly” by Stephen King“Happy-Go-Lucky” by David Sedaris“The Groucho Letters” by Groucho Marx“The Woman in Me” by Britney Spears“Sure, I’ll Join Your Cult” by Maria Bamford”Everywhere an Oink Oink” by David Mamet”Comedy Book” by Jesse David Fox

17. Read TIME’s 100 Best Children’s Books of All Time. 

Fail.

A total of 21 books were read in 2023.

I’ve read many other books on the list in the past, but I am only counting those books I read in 2023 toward my goal.

18. Write to at least six authors about a book I love. 

Done. I wrote letters to Kate DiCamillo, Stephen King, John Green, Kevin Smith, David Sedaris, and Jessi Klein.

Kate DiCamillo wrote back!

STORYTELLING/SPEAKING CAREER

19. Complete the re-recording of Storyworthy For Business. 

Fail. I am waiting for my next book to be finalized so I can use the book as the model for the redesigned course.

20. Record the next Storyworthy course.

Done.

Three brand-new courses have been added to the Storyworthy platform:

Finding Stories
Anatomy of a Story
Humor: Volume #1

I’m proud of all of them. You should check them out.

21. Produce a total of six Speak Up storytelling events in 2023

Fail. Though nine shows were scheduled in 2023, cancelations due to bureaucratic nonsense on the part of our partner venues prevented me from achieving this goal, resulting in a total of just five in 2023:

April 22 at the Connecticut Historical SocietyMay 4, in partnership with Voices of HopeJuly 29 at Hartford Flavor CompanyNovember 3 at the Playhouse on ParkNovember 4 at Wolcott School

22. Pitch myself to at least three upcoming TEDx events, hoping to be accepted by one.

Done!

I spoke at a TEDx event at the University of Connecticut in January. Due to the delay in posting a talk from more than a year ago to the TEDx website, my University of Connecticut talk will not be loaded onto the TED platform for reasons I don’t quite understand.

I don’t really mind. The clicker for the slides was broken, advancing two slides at a time, making for a rather imperfect talk. I’ll repeat it again at some point in the future.

I also spoke at a TEDx event in Natick, MA, on April 13.

I also received word that I will be speaking at TEDxBU in April 2024.

I also pitched myself to TEDx events in Harlem and Roxbury and on the campuses of Yale University, Northeastern University, and Rhode Island School of Design.

Harlem, Yale, RISD, and Northeastern have declined. Roxbury was canceled.

23. Attend at least eight Moth events with the intention of telling a story.

Done. I attended one Moth event in December, bringing my total to 19 Moth shows attended in 2023, more than doubling my goal.

24. Win at least one Moth StorySLAM.

Done. I won the Moth StorySLAM in Boston on March 29.

25. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

Fail.

I competed in a Moth GrandSLAM in Boston in May and did not win. I also had to go first, which is not exactly fun or conducive to winning.

I competed in a Moth GrandSLAM in NYC in November and placed second.

I competed in a Moth GrandSLAM in Boston in December and placed second.

I was invited to compete in the Seattle GrandSLAM in March and again in October, but traveling cross country was impossible.

I was invited to compete in the Washington DC GrandSLAM in November, but my schedule did not allow me to attend.

26. Produce at least 24 episodes of our podcast Speak Up Storytelling.

Fail. No episodes were recorded in 2023.

27. Perform stand-up at least six times in 2023.

Fail. I performed stand-up a total of four times in 2023, including in the New York City Comedy Festival. I was also paid to perform, which is only the fourth time I have been paid to do comedy.

28. Pitch three stories to This American Life.

Done! I pitched three stories to This American Life in 2023.

29. Pitch myself to Marc Maron’s WTF podcast at least three times.

Done. I pitched myself to Marc Maron three times in 2023.

30. Send a newsletter to readers at least 50 times. 

Done. Five newsletters were sent in December, for a total of 51 newsletters sent in 2023.

HOME

31. Clear the basement.

Done. Much organization is required, but the basement is cleared of unnecessary furniture and oversized items. We may be finishing the basement in 2024, which will require even more clearing.

32. Clean and clear the garage.

Fail. The garage is clean but still filled with large items needing removal.

33. Furnish and decorate the studio. 

Done!

34. Eliminate clothing that is not being worn and closet bins.

Done!

FAMILY/FRIENDS

35. Text or call my brother or sister once per month. 

Done.

36. Take at least one photo of my children every day.

Done.

37. Take at least one photo with Elysha and me each week.

Fail. Elysha and I only accomplished this goal in three months in 2023—one of my more disappointing results.

38. Plan a reunion of the Heavy Metal Playhouse.

Fail.

39. I will not comment positively or negatively about the physical appearance of any person save my wife and children to reduce the focus on physical appearance in our culture overall.

Done.

Easy-peasy and life-affirming. I can’t recommend it enough.

40. Surprise Elysha at least six times in 2023.

Done. A total of 21 surprises so far in 2023, including:

Half a dozen birthday cards, all handmade, scattered throughout her life on her birthdayTickets to the upcoming Lizzo concertA Pusheen Mystery BoxGoodie bag of Trader Joe’s delightsCoat from Canyon RanchVisit from KathySurprise dessert delivered personally to her schoolAnother surprise dessert delivered personally to her schoolAnother Pusheen Mystery BoxTickets to Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me, Tina Fey/Amy Poehler, and Jenny LewisFlowers following Clara’s dance recitalFirst-class tickets on the flight back from DCFirst-class tickets on the flight to Everett, WAAnother Pusheen gift boxTickets to “Back to the Future” on BroadwayTickets to “Mrs. Doubtfire” at the BushnellA collection of simple syrups from Whidbey IslandRhode Island and Boston weekends planned with friends for the fallTickets to “The Nutcracker” for Elysha and ClaraFlowers sent to Elysha’s workplaceAn anniversary card under Elysha’s pillow

41. Play poker at least six times in 2023.

Fail. No poker was played in 2023.

A ridiculous failure, given my love for the game.

42. Spend at least six days with my best friend of more than 30 years.

Done. Seven total visits in 2023. Not nearly enough, but it’s a good start.

MUSIC

43. Memorize the lyrics to at least five favorite songs. 

Done. At least six new songs memorized in 2023:

“You Need to Calm Down” by Taylor Swift
“Burning Love” by Elvis Presley
“Lay It On Me” by Vance Joy
“Come a Little Bit Closer” by Jay and the Americans.
“Go Your Own Way” by Fleetwood Mac
“Fairytale in New York” by The Pogues

44. Learn to play the piano by practicing at least three times a week. 

Done. I’m still not very good.

MISCELLANEOUS PROJECTS

45. Learn the names of every employee who works at my school.

Fail. I learned many names in 2023 and even made a few new friends, but there remain people in my school whose names I do not know. Even worse, new colleagues seem to pop up every day, making the job even more challenging than I imagined.

46. Convert our wedding video to a transferable format.

Done!

47. Memorize five new poems.

Fail. I’m currently memorizing (and learning to sign) “The Road Not Taken” by Robert Frost.

No other poems were memorized in 2023.

I really should’ve done better with this goal.

48. Write to at least three colleges about why they should hire me.

Fail. Honestly, I lost interest in this goal. I would love to instruct future teachers on the three essential elements of a successful teaching career (which are tragically not taught in colleges today), but the bureaucracy of a college system would likely kill me.

49. Complete my Eagle Scout project.

Fail. I attempted to connect with a cemetery to complete the project without success. Admittedly, I only tried twice.

50. Post my progress regarding these resolutions on this blog and social media on the first day of every month.

Done!

“Emotionally drunk”

On the eve of a new year, I am reminded of something a student once told me about celebrating New Year’s Eve at home with his family:

“Boy, was my mother emotionally drunk last night.”

“What does ’emotionally drunk’ mean?” I asked, though a part of me didn’t want to know.

“That’s what happens when she drinks more than two margaritas,” he said. “She becomes very emotional. You know… emotionally drunk. So funny.”

Kids say the craziest things, but they also speak some real truth.

Better than expected by a long shot

Sometimes, the universe does you a solid.

On Thursday evening, I took Charlie to his very first Celtics game at the Garden. The Celtics were playing the Pistons, which promised to be a lopsided affair:

The Celtics have the best record in the NBA at 25-6.

The Pistons have the worst record in the NBA at 2-29. They had also just tied the NBA record for the most consecutive losses at 27. If the Celtics won, the Pistons would own that dubious record all by themselves.

I had actually chosen this game purposely because I wanted Charlie’s first time watching the Celtics live to be a victory. I envisioned us laughing our way through the dismantling of the Pistons at the hands of our far superior team.

The evening started well. Charlie managed to get himself onto the Jumbotron just before tipoff, which was thrilling. We ate hot dogs, talked about basketball, and watched the players warm up. The player’s introductions were dramatic, complete with music, a light show, and pyrotechnics.

Charlie was buzzing.

We were ready for some basketball.

Then, things took a left turn. The Pistons came out playing well, apparently hell-bent on not setting the record for most consecutive losses, and the Celtics seemed to be perfectly willing to allow that to happen. Midway through the first quarter, as the Celtics were down 12 points, a friend texted me:

“I’m nervous for you. Desperately want Charlie to see a win.”

I sloughed off his concern. The Celtics would soon find their stride and put this team away.

Boy, was I wrong. By the end of the half, the Celtics were down by 21 points, and it looked like they might give this game away.

It had all the makings of a tragic defeat. Or a possible epic comeback.

As the third quarter commenced and the Celtics began to claw their way back, the fans went wild. Fully aware of the implications of losing to a team with just two victories all year, the Garden became alive and adopted an almost playoff-like atmosphere as the Celtics drew closer and closer to tying the game.

Charlie also went wild. With each step, he screamed, cheered, leaped into my arms, and high-fived everyone within ten feet.

Just as the Celtics tied the game at the end of the third quarter, Charlie made his second appearance on the Jumbotron.

The fourth quarter was a battle. The Celtics finally started hitting threes, and a review of a goal-tending call with about two minutes left would prove crucial. The final minute of regulation was a nail-biting back-and-forth war between the two teams, ending in a tie and overtime.

As the overtime period began, the Garden was electric. As loud as it’s ever been. Fans did not want their team to lose this game.

The Celtics ultimately won the game. Charlie’s favorite player, Kristaps Porzingis, was the hero, hitting two huge three-pointers and punctuating the final minute with an enormous slam dunk.

Porzingis ultimately led all scorers with 35 points.

I had hoped to bring Charlie to a blowout. A relaxing, fun game that the Celtics would win with ease.

Instead, we ended up with an overtime thriller, culminating with his favorite player saving the day.

On the way back to the car, Charlie said, “I’m going to remember this night forever, Dad.”

I will, too.

Silly me to think that I might be able to manipulate the universe and guarantee Charlie an automatic victory during his first trip to the Garden.

Instead, the universe gave us something so much better.

 

 

Macbeth’s head

Over the years, my students have built me Lego scenes from Shakespearean stories that we read.

Hamlet. A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Romeo and Juliet.

Most recently, a scene from Macbeth. The final scene of the play, when Macbeth’s severed head is placed upon a spike.

Kids love a severed head.