Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 65

Kate DiCamillo is the best

One of my goals for 2023 was to write to six authors whom I adore.

I finally got around to it in November. I expected nothing in return. I simply wanted to express my appreciation for the joy they had brought to my life like so many readers have done for me.

I was paying it forward.

Last week, Kate DiCamillo, author of many books and one of my all-time favorites, “The Tale of Despereaux,” wrote back. The postcard below arrived at my home with words of kindness and inspiration on the back.

I couldn’t believe it. I was thrilled.

When I’m asked to recommend books, I almost always include something by Kate DiCamillo. I’ve even arranged to have copies of “The Tale of Despereaux” available for sale at my book signing alongside my own books.

Readers have, on more than one occasion, asked me to sign “The Tale of Despeereaux” while also signing copies of my books.

Sometimes, I sign Kate’s name on her behalf.

“The Tale of Despereaux” was also the very first gift Elysha ever gave to me, with one of the best inscriptions ever written into the pages of a book.

The arrival of this postcard was my first Christmas gift of 2023:

Completely unexpected. Absolutely unnecessary. Suprememly appreciated.

Kate DiCamillo – A real class act.

If you’ve never read “The Tale of Despereaux,” purchase a copy as soon as possible.

You won’t be disappointed.

And maybe take a few moments to write to one of your favorite authors. Emails are excellent vehicles for this sort of expression.

Physical letters, if you can obtain a mailing address (in the case of Kate DiCamillo, I sent my letter to her publisher, who forwarded my communication to her), are supremely better.

Don’t talk in movies… except Taylor and Rocky

My children are physically incapable of speaking when we watch movies at home.

It’s incredibly annoying. Frustrating and awful.

Thankfully, they don’t speak in actual movie theaters because they aren’t monsters.

The exception, of course, was Taylor Swift’s recent concert film. Clara, Elysha, and I went to this movie, and talking, dancing, and general frivolity were perfectly acceptable.

Of course, Clara barely spoke at all. Even though she and Elysha had seen the concert from the edge of the stage at Gillette Stadium last year, she was mesmerized.

In fairness, I was, too.

“The Rocky Horror Picture Show” is also an exception to this no-talking rule. As a card-carrying member of the Rocky Horror Picture Show fan club, I have participated in many midnight showings of the film over the years, where talking is not only permitted but required.

But other than those two films, talking should never happen in a movie theater, and happily, thankfully, my children abide by this rule.

But these “talking during the movie” monsters exist. They are awful people. The scum of the Earth. Not only do they talk, but they also remove their cellphones in the middle of the film and find reasons to use them despite the enormous screen in front of them.

These are stupid, selfish, despicable human beings.

It’s a nightmare.

Elysha and I were watching “The Village” years ago when a roving band of teenagers wandered into the theater, called out for a guy named Hector, and then left. They returned a few minutes later, stood near the door, and giggled before leaving again. Several minutes later, they returned for a third time, taking seats in the front row and resuming their conversations. I waited for a couple of minutes, hoping they would calm down or leave.

When they did not, I took action.

I walked down to the front row, took a position before the group, leaned in, and whispered, “You can shut up and stay, or you can leave now. But if you stay and keep on talking, I will make it my primary mission in life to get you kicked out of the theater, even if I have to lie and cheat to do it.”

They exited immediately.

I’m not suggesting that this is the preferred method of dealing with these situations. “The Village” was in theaters in 2004.

The world is a little more combative these days.

I’m also trying to be less confrontational.

But here is what I would support:

Yondr pouches for movie theaters, which lock your phones into pouches that cannot be opened while inside the theater. They are being used by comedians and musicians to prevent the use of phones during their performances, and some schools have wisely begun using them during the school day, too.

Every school should be using them every damn day.

These secured bags allow you to maintain possession of your phone at all times but deny you access to your phone in designated phone-free spaces.

Like the movie theater.

My friend and I recently attended comedian Bill Burr’s show, and our phones were locked in pouches for the entirety of his performance. After we left the stadium, scores of theater employees were ready to unlock the pouch so we could access our phones, and if we really needed our phones during the performance, we could simply exit the stadium and an employee in the concourse could open the bag for us.

It was lovely.

For nearly two hours, I did not see or hear a single cell phone. Instead, I was able to focus on the performance, undisturbed by small-minded technology addicts who can’t stop scrolling through status updates, taking selfies, and recording footage of a show from 120 feet away that they will never watch again.

The Yondr pouch (or any of its competitors) won’t stop people from talking in the theater, but it would at least eliminate the distraction of phones from theaters.

As for the talking, confrontation still works until it doesn’t, so I don’t advise it.

Even better, perhaps Yondr could design and develop a human-sized pouch, allowing us to stuff the fools inside as soon as they open their big mouths.

Santa!

Behold! Photos of our children with Santa Claus over the years!

After having photos taken with Santa in 2009 and 2010, we skipped the annual mall photo in 2011 for the reasons described below.

We also seem to have lost the 2018 photo.

The final mall photo, taken in 2019, does not have a date for some reason.

I’m not sure if we would’ve had a photo taken in 2020, but if so, the pandemic ended that tradition.

The last three photos feature our recent visit to Southwick’s Winter Wonderland, where the entire family had photos taken with Santa, as well as photos of me and the kids in 2018 when I played Santa Claus for a children’s holiday event.

My favorite part of these photos is watching the evolution of Clara’s reactions over the years, beginning with joy before quickly turning to fear and sorrow, then uncertainty, and finally joy again.

It takes a while before she’s really smiling again.

In 2010, Clara, Elysha, and I ended up on the local news. Clara was crying so much and so loudly that the newscaster on the scene decided to make Clara the star of her report, asking us questions about her reaction to Santa Claus and featuring extended footage of Clara weeping.

Hilarious stuff.

It’s also the reason we skipped our Santa visit in 2011. Charlie wasn’t born yet, so why traumatize the poor girl with another visit? That was the same year Clara, nearly three years old, boycotted Halloween because she didn’t approve of the holiday.

That was the same year that an October snowstorm struck Connecticut, knocking down millions of trees that had yet to shed their leaves and knocking out the power for millions of people for a week or more.

Halloween was canceled that year because of the danger of downed powerlines, rendering Clara’s boycott moot.

Still, she had decided to boycott Halloween, snowstorm or not. You can see why visiting Santa was not a priority that year.

She was, and remains, an interesting soul.

Hope your Christmas was a joyous one!

    

My 2023 Christmas haul

Every Christmas, I take inventory of the holiday gifts that my wife, Elysha, gives me.

Some people wish for cashmere sweaters, the latest gadget, stylish watches, and jewelry. My hope is often for the least pretentious, most unexpected, most nostalgic, quirkiest, most utilitarian little gifts possible, and Elysha never fails to deliver.

When it comes to gift-giving, Elysha is brilliant. More than the gifts themselves, her choices tell me that she knows me.

She sees me more clearly than any other person in my life.

For the past 13 years, I’ve been documenting that inventory of gifts that she has given me on Christmas because they are so damn good. Every year has been as good as the last, if not better.

2009 included a signed edition of a Kurt Vonnegut novel2010 included a Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure pin2011 included my often-used Mr. T in a Pocket2012 included my fabulous No button2013 included a remote-controlled helicopter2014 included an “I Told You So” pad2015 included schadenfreude mints: “As delicious as other people’s misery”2016 included a commissioned painting of the map of my childhood Boy Scout camp2017 included a commissioned painting of my grandparent’s farmhouse2018 included a Viewmaster Viewer with photos of the family2019 included a fantastic cord organizer2020 included an artist’s rendering of all seven of my books, plus the books from which we derived our children’s names, the first gift Elysha ever gave me (a book), and a couple of my favorite books of all time.2021 included a paddleboard, complete with a waterproof bluetooth speaker and waterproof iPhone case2022 included my own Dundie Award

This year was pretty fantastic.

The gifts included:

Misfortune cookiesHeadlamp for my predawn golfingGreat Shakespearean Deaths card gameShrute Farms Bed and Breakfast Welcome MintsSpecialized golf teesGolf Tip of the Day calendarBicycle repair kitBen & Jerry’s Chocoloney candy barPulioiki dust cleaning kitHandwarmer oatmeal bowlTwix salted caramelIce cream scoopNeck fanRaisinetsTwo jacketsTwo shirtsMoldable glueBike pump

Once again, she’s somehow managed to outdo herself.

I hope you received gifts just as brilliant as these this holiday season.

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“This Is Going to Suck” but not really…

If you’re celebrating Christmas this year, happy Christmas Eve!I hope that today is relaxing, lovely, fun, and filled with joy and anticipation.Elysha and I spent the day cooking, cleaning, and wrapping gifts in preparation for our annual “Dicks Family Christmas Misfit Open House” tomorrow!I also squeezed in a golf lesson because I have my priorities and a doctor’s appointment where I was diagnosed with a raging ear infection.My first Christmas surprise!In the spirit of the season, I thought I’d share one of my holiday-themed stories – the one I’m probably best known for:“This Is Going to Suck”The people in the photos – taken on Christmas day – include Bengi (giving Santa rabbit ears), Tom (who would join Bengi and me as a roommate for a while after high school), Deb Davis (Bengi’s then-girlfriend who organized a schedule of visitors for Christmas day so I would never be alone) and Kim Macaluso (who I would briefly date while recovering from surgery).Plus Santa and an elf.  

Cold but still fun!

Even though Charlie’s feet were quite cold last week while touring the Winter Wonderland at Southwick Zoo – Crocs with no socks will do that in December – fear not, dear friends.

Elysha, the kids, and I still had great fun.

Some of my more empathetic friends and readers wrote to ask if our winter adventure had been ruined for Charlie and his hypothermic toes.

I assure you that despite his chilly feet, we had a grand old time.

Charlie and I have always found enormous joy in small things.

Like jamming your head into the head of a plastic lion and screaming for help.

Or telling the Grinch that he’s “a creepy old dude.”

Or touching the butt of an illuminated red-butted baboon.

It really is the little things that bring us so much joy.

            

Liz Cheney was not piquant

Liz Cheney appeared on the Late Show with Stephen Colbert last week.

It was an odd pairing, given that Colbert has spent decades making fun of her and her father, which he acknowledged during the interview.

Cheney handled the moment with humor and grace, but she did something even more impressive during the interview.

At the top of the second segment, Colbert said, “As I said before, I made a few piquant jokes about you and your dad over the years, and I think it is important that if we’re going to have the ability to have these disagreements, as you said, we have to have a country that is a democracy that is not a fascist dictatorship…”

Cheney interrupted and asked, “And what is piquant? I don’t know what that means.”

Colbert said, “Piquant is like a sharp…”

“It’s a very elitist word,” Cheney said, laughing in good spirit and bringing the studio audience and Colbert himself to laughter, too.

Liz Cheney, former United States Congresswoman and one of the former leaders of the Republican caucus, who co-chaired the January 6 Select Committee and is the daughter of former Vice President Dick Cheney, acknowledged on television that she didn’t know the meaning of a word.

I can’t overstate how impressed I was with this moment. Most people would’ve allowed that word to slide by, unwilling to admit their ignorance. At best, they may have used context clues to guess the meaning of the word without verifying their guess’s accuracy.

Cheney did none of these things. She stopped Colbert in his tracks and asked for the definition. On live television in front of millions of viewers.

Years ago, in the green room before a Moth GrandSLAM, Elysha and I were speaking to the show’s host – author, storyteller, and all-around fantastic human being, Dan Kennedy. Amid our conversation, Elysha stopped Dan to ask the meaning of a word, much like Cheney on Colbert.

Kennedy grabbed his chest and faked a heart attack, expressing disbelief that someone in this world might possess the self-confidence to admit ignorance while simultaneously expressing intellectual curiosity.

He made a big deal out of it.

It was admittedly a tiny thing, but given the nature of human beings, the fragility of so many psyches, the flagging self-esteem of so many, the festering fear that resides in so many hearts, and the obscene puffery that we see so often in people, Dan was right to make a big deal of the moment. It was an enormous thing. In a world filled with silence and self-congratulation, Elysha told someone she didn’t know something.

It said so much about Elysha and the confidence and self-worth that she carries through life.

You don’t see that kind of moment often.

Liz Cheney’s acknowledgment of her ignorance was equally impressive. Perhaps even more so given the public nature of her moment.

Both women – my wife and the former Congresswoman – demonstrated courage that so few can muster these days.

I also heard Colbert use the word “piquant” —three times, including when Cheney finally asked him what it meant. I knew the word’s meaning, but only because I studied French for four years in high school and two years in college.

Had I spent my time wisely studying Spanish instead, I would’ve been as lost as Cheney.

“Piquant” is simply not a word used very often today. I suspect that most of Colbert’s studio and television audience didn’t know its meaning, either.

I also suspect that most people would’ve remained silent in their ignorance.

Liz Cheney and I disagree on most things politically, but we agree on the importance of democracy, so I respect, support, and even adore her, hoping that her fight for democracy is a winning one so we can continue to disagree in a country where you win or lose at the ballot box.

After her performance on Colbert, I admire her even more.

Regulation #30

Elysha, the kids, and I visited Alcatraz this summer as a part of our visit to San Fransisco.

While pursuing the gift shop, I stumbled upon this item:

A replica of an actual sign posted when Alcatraz was still a functioning prison,

Also, oddly enough, not a bad policy for a classroom.

Singing is lovely, of course, unless you’re teaching the multiplication algorithm or trying to get kids to understand the indigenous people of pre-contact North America.

Time and place are keys when launching into song.

And there’s nothing wrong with whistling while you’re at recess, but in the classroom?

Even the noisiest kids can’t stand a relentless whistler.

Oddly, the rules of the Alcatraz cell house would work well in a classroom. Regulation #30 would be an incomplete list, of course, but still, not a bad set of guidelines for kids to follow during instruction.

This regulation could also be hung around the neck of most adolescent boys – my son included – who seem to need to make some kind of noise at all times lest they explode. Clicks and spurts and puffs and snaps and taps and hums and mumbles… the list of possible sounds that a ten-year-old boy can make is endless.

My actual list of rules, posted on a hand-lettered wooden sign at the front of the classroom, contains only two items:

Work Hard.
Be Kind.

I’ve always thought those two rules cover just about everything.

Still, while pondering my possible Alcatraz gift shop purchases, I seriously considered purchasing this sign. I thought it might be funny to post in my classroom:

A prison regulation that could oddly also serve as useful classroom rules.

Hilarious.

But then I remembered that not everyone possesses the same sense of humor as me, so I moved on to memorabilia less potentially problematic.

A real sign of maturity for me.

Also a real flaw – an egregious defect of the highest order – in anyone who can’t see the humor of posting a prison sign in a classroom.

So maybe not so much maturity after all.

Was I always like this?

A student asked me if I was always annoying or if I had somehow become annoying in adulthood.

A good, albeit slightly annoying, question.

In answer to her question, I told the student that years ago, during a book talk in the town where I grew up, I was asked to explain to the audience why I had chosen the section of Something Missing (my first novel) to read aloud.

I find the actual reading of the book to be the most tedious and boring part of any author’s appearance, so I have long since ceased doing it. Instead, I tell stories about the creation and writing of the book, answer questions, give away prizes, and try to make people laugh.

But back then, when I was still a first-time author, I did what was expected of me.

In answer to this woman’s question, I confessed that my publicist had recommended a section of the book to read after I was unable to identify a suitable passage on my own.

The woman then followed up her question by asking what I would’ve chosen if forced to pick a section of the book to read.

“The last ten pages,” I answered.

“Is it because the end is your favorite part?” she asked.

“No,” I said. “I just want to spoil the ending for everyone.”

From the back of the room, Mrs. Allan, my former middle school teacher, grumbled, “Hasn’t changed a bit.”

As odd as it may seem, I found great comfort in knowing that my occasionally sarcastic, slightly rude, less-than-conforming nature is not new. Apparently I was making an impression way back in elementary school.

“So you were annoying from the start?” my student asked.

“I guess so,” I said. “As Popeye said, I am what I am.”

“Who’s Popeye?” my student asked.

How incredibly annoying.

Fixed. Also ruined.

First, the good news:

The folks in our town’s public works department have straightened out the manhole cover that caused Charlie to be so upset a few weeks ago. We made this discovery over the weekend, and Charlie was extremely happy.

Now, the bad news:

The folks in our town’s public works department have straightened out the manhole cover that caused Charlie to be so upset a few weeks ago, thus preventing me from driving by it again and again to taunt the poor boy.

I hate when people ruin my fun.