Matthew Dicks's Blog, page 651

Anatomy of a 22-month olds conversation

This just happened a minute ago.  I transcribed it word for word.

_____________________________

Clara (enters room):  Uh oh.

Mommy:  Uh oh what?

Clara:  Uh oh Clara.

Mommy: Why oh oh?

Clara:  I fell.

Mommy:  You did?

Clara:  Yeah.

Mommy and Daddy:  Are you okay?

Clara:  Yeah.

Daddy:  Where did you hurt yourself?

Clara:  Head.

Mommy:  Where?

(Clara touches forehead)

Mommy:  You want a snuggle?

Clara:  Yes.

(Mommy and Clara snuggle)

Clara (30 seconds later):  Alright!

_____________________________

This ability-to-communicate-in-words thing is pretty cool.

Frazzled moms making a bad name for competent mothers everywhere

Am I wrong or did the New York Times just devote 2,000 words to a handful of women who lack time management skills and allow self-imposed guilt to interfere with their daily lives?

Seriously.  The piece reads like fabricated nonsense, a arbitrary string of anecdotes from a handful of mothers, constructed in order to generate a buzz-worthy headline.  As a teacher for more than a decade, I have known hundreds of moms, and many have become my close, personal friends.  None of the women featured in this piece resemble anyone I know in anyway whatsoever.

Frazzled moms?  Aren't most people's plates a little overfilled today?  Must we characterize mothers as the only people struggling to fit everything in?

And isn't it time we dispense with the phrase frazzled mom altogether?  When do you ever hear the word frazzled attached to anything but the word mom? 

Google the phrase frazzled mom, for example, and pictures like this are displayed on the first page of results:

  [image error] 

And hundreds more can be found in the images section of Google. 

Search on the phrase frazzled dad and no such picture exists. 

Not one.   

Search Google's news section for the term frazzled mom and you will find 48 current news stories that include the phrase.

There are zero news stories returned for the search terms frazzled dad or frazzled father. 

Mothers around the world should reject this two-word combination as a perpetuation of a stereotype that casts their gender in an incompetent and inaccurate light. 

Do you know the difference between a frazzled mom and one who is not?

Frazzled moms don't stop talking about being frazzled.  They whine and complain and stick pictures like the ones above onto the blogs that they somehow find the time to write despite the fact that they are frazzled. 

Mothers who are not frazzled simply go about their lives without the need for such vocal vociferations, managing their time effectively, balancing work and family as best they can, and spending quality time with their children.

Do they struggle at times with these issues?  Of course they do.  Finding the time to meet every need is not a motherly concern.  It is a human concern. 

But these mothers are not struggling to the point of being frazzled, they do not resemble the stereotypical pictures of a frazzled mom, and you will never see them featured in a New York Times piece that reads more like self-therapy than an actual news story.     

This is a case where the exceedingly loud minority dominates the adept and focused-on-better-things majority, and if I was a mother, I'd be mad as hell.

Bats with bombs

I just finished reading Bill Bryson's AT HOME: AT SHORT HISTORY OF PRIVATE LIFE. 

I love everything that Bryson writes, and this was no exception. Bryson is one of the very few authors whose work I am willing to read again and again.  Each reading is like a brand new adventure. 

The funniest part of this latest book is Bryson's supposed thesis:

He claims to be writing about the history of private life through the framework of a tour his English home.  Chapters are named after each room, and the room itself provides the source material for the chapter.  But time after time I found myself engaged in stories about anything but private life and quaint English homes.  Stories that couldn't be less about private life.

Don't get me wrong.  I'm not complaining.  Bryson could publish a book entitled RAMDOM MUSINGS AND UTTERRLY UNCONNECTED STORIES IN AN INCONCEIVABLE ORDER and I would buy it and most assuredly love it.

Bryson is that good.  And this is what his latest book nearly amounts to. 

Case in point:

Bryson writes about bat bombs, the World War II program designed to strap incendiary bombs to bats and send them into Japan cities, where the bats would roost amongst the predominately wooden structures before detonating. 

Yes, you read that write.  Bat bombs. 

Bomb-toting bats.

In a book about private life inside the home, no less.   

From Wikipedia: 

It was envisioned that ten B-24 bombers flying from Alaska, each carrying a hundred shells packed with bomb-carrying bats could release 1,040,000 bat bombs over the target—the industrial cities of Osaka Bay.

A series of tests to answer various operational questions were conducted. In one incident the Auxiliary Army Air Base in Carlsbad, New Mexico, was set on fire when armed bats were accidentally released. The bats incinerated the test range and roosted under a fuel tank.

My question: How do you strap bombs onto the backs of one million bats?

How many people does an operation like that require, and how long would a process like that take?

The logistics of the operation are mind-boggling.

Unfortunately, Bryson does not address this question in his otherwise thoroughly enjoyable and completely satisfying book.

The forgotten freedom of adulthood

Isn't it strange that a majority of Americans would be in favor of a four day work week yet somehow we cannot make this happen? 

Sometimes I think we forget that we are adults, capable of altering our lifestyle and working environment if desired.  We forget how much control we have over our lives if we are simply willing to stop caring what other people think.  We ignore the fact that we have the power to ignore, reject or rise up against many cultural norms and traditions if we so choose.   

May I suggest you take a long, hard look at your life and find those areas where change might make you a happier person?  Think back upon your childhood and all those things that you vowed to do as an adult. 

Are you doing them?  Could you be doing them?    

A friend and I were recently lamenting the absence of ice cream in our day when the freedom that adulthood confers to me suddenly flooded by mind.

"You know what?" I said, more excited than perhaps was necessary. "I always wanted ice cream for breakfast when I was a kid and I don't think I've ever followed through on that.  I'm getting some tomorrow. Ice cream for breakfast, damn it."

And my friend agreed.  We are adults, and unless it violates a law or harms another human being, we can do whatever we want, including Ben and Jerry's Carmel Sutra for breakfast.   

Sometimes even a nonconformist can forget that he is an adult and certain rules no longer apply to him. In this spirit, I intend on breaking the following three rules on a much more consistent basis from now on:

1. Ice cream for breakfast whenever I want. I'll need to find a place that serves ice cream in the morning, but I have a couple ideas.

2. No more boring greeting cards, regardless of the occasion. I routinely purchase greeting cards for the incorrect or inappropriate occasion and transform them into something befitting the moment.

A pet bereavement card converted into an anniversary wish.

A bar mitzvah card rewritten into a thank you note.

A Valentine's Day card made over into a birthday invitation.

From now on, this will be my standard approach to all greeting cards, regardless of situation or recipient.  Even for the most formal of occasions, how could any reasonable person complain about the effort put into one of these transformations?

3.  No more neckties.  This has actually been a rule that I have been living with for a couple years, and I have an almost-finished Op-Ed on the policy.  At some point I'll post my feelings on this subject on this blog as well, but suffice it to say that a necktie is a meaningless, arcane item of clothing that amounts to little more than a colorful noose around the neck.  I stopped wearing them to all formal occasions, including in my role as a wedding DJ.  And you know what?  Nobody cares.  I have worn a tie twice in the past three years, both times by request.  My sister-in-law asked me to wear one at her wedding (I was a member of the bridal party) and a couple who I married in the capacity of minister asked me to wear one.  I complied in both cases but none other.

And unless the request comes by way of a bridal party requirement or in my capacity as minister, I will not wear one ever again.      

I'm an adult damn it. Let's see someone try to complain about my new ways of living.

I just hope Elysha agrees with me. 

Standing up against the norms and rigors of society is one thing.  Standing up against your wife is an entirely different and more perilous situation.

Resolution update: November 2010

In an effort to achieve my yearly goals, I post my monthly progress here.

Below are my sixteen New Year's resolutions and my progress thus far.

1.  Lose seventeen more pounds, bringing my weight down to 185 pounds, which was my high school pole vaulting weight.

I added seven pounds since my last report.  Absent a miracle or liposuction, I've all but failed to achieve this goal. 

2.  Complete CHICKEN SHACK by April 15.

3.  Eat three servings of oatmeal a week in order to reduce my cholesterol.

Done!  At least three bowls per week in the month of November.

4.  Try liver.

Nope.  But c'mon.  I've got to find some time for this one.  Perhaps lunch with colleagues next week.   

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

I have yet to resubmit a piece, though in my defense, I'm trying to finish another book, quite unexpectedly, and simply don't have the time. 

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

I have yet to make another attempt.  But again, I'm trying to finish an entire novel in a span of five months.  Unexpected goodness lands much more work on my plate.   

7.  Complete the rock opera.

8.  Read at least six novels that were published in 2010.

I'm up to fifteen with AT HOME, FREEDOM, and THE DISAPPEARING SPOON. 

9.  Organize my basement.

Work continues but is not complete.

10.  Learn to use Dreamweaver with reasonable skill.

11.  Land at least one paying client for my fledgling life coach business.

None yet.  Anyone know someone in need?

12. Go to at least twelve movies this year, continuing to debunk the myth that the parents of newborns are no longer able to go out to the movies.

I'm up to nine with the addition of the latest Harry Potter film.  This leaves me three movies to go, which is very doable considering I have a week off at the end of December and my daughter's nursery pre-school remains open.  While we don't plan on sending her to school everyday, we are planning to see a few movies that week while she is in school, just as long as there are movies we want to see. 

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

It won't happen by the end of the year, but with the success that we have realized already for my still-unfinished manuscript, 2011 might be the year that we say goodbye to all of our education loans forever.  Foreign sales have been remarkable.   

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

Funds will probably be available in 2011 for reasons already stated.

15. Make one mortgage payment from poker profits.

My bankroll sits at 50% of my goal.  As with some of my other goals, this extra novel has hurt my playing time.  

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

Um… I forgot to post October's results.  Oh well.  Can't blame that one on the new book.

My favorite works of fiction

A while back, I was asked to list my favorite favorite books of all time.  Since I was asked at a public reading, I couldn't exactly ignore the request, and so I named my top three, and though there were at least another half dozen books that I could have added to my list, I was satisfied. 

The original three were:

The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut Hamlet by William Shakespeare

Then I made the mistake of listing my top three on the blog and was immediately inundated with requests for a list of the books that I had considered adding to my list.

After some hemming and hawing, I agreed to create a list of my top 10 favorite books, which has since expanded to an even dozen.

I considered going for a baker's dozen, but I thought that might be pushing things a bit. 

As I started creating my list, I established the following rules:

1.  A series of books count as one book.  This rule, once established, helped me a great deal.

2.  This is only a list of fiction.  Had I been forced to include nonfiction on the list, books like The Heart of the Sea, Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, Devil in a White City, and everything that Bill Bryson has ever written would have been clamoring for a place on the list as well.

3.  I decided to include plays as well, since so much of my favorite literature was written by Shakespeare.  It's fiction, I decided, simply written in a different form.

Are there other books that I wanted to add to my list? 

Of course.  There was a handful of books that were eventually removed from the list in order to cull it down to just twelve, but these are the dozen that I am standing by. 

The list of my 12 favorite works of fiction of all time. 

For today, at least.

Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut Dune series by Frank Herbert Great Expectations by Charles Dickens Hamlet by William Shakespeare Harry Potter series by JK Rowling Macbeth by William Shakespeare Nursery Crime series by Jasper Fforde The Dark Tower series by Stephen King The Lord of the Rings series (including The Hobbit) by J.R.R. Tolkien The Mezzanine by Nicholson Baker The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

If you have a moment,  I would love to hear your list as well.

He makes a fine, fine point

Worst things ever

The protagonist in the book that I am currently writing lists these as the worst things ever:

1. Waiting
2. Not knowing
3. Not existing

It's not my list, mind you, but I think it's a pretty good list and I'm considering making it my own as well. 

And it's a big improvement on his initial list:

1. Tommy Swinden
2. Bonus poops
3. Not existing

Talk Soup: A solution to my cultural blindness?

In the past three days, I have failed to understand cultural references related to a celebrity chef, a Kardashian  person (made from someone old enough to be my father), and (I think) the woman engaged to Prince I–Still-Don't-Know-His-Name.

While watching 30 Rock last night (two episodes on DVD), I counted at least three jokes that zoomed over my head when the cultural references required to laugh at these jokes were unknown to me.

And on Thanksgiving, I found myself watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade with Clara and not knowing most of the celebrities perched atop the corporate floats.

This is an issue I have written about before.

And before that.

And yet I still have not decided the degree to which I am concerned about this trend.  I know it sounds a little silly, but as an author, I don't want to become entirely detached from pop culture.  There's too much investment in movies, television and celebrities by readers and the general public to just ignore these things, and I don't want my future books to become entirely devoid of any necessary pop culture references. 

I'd also very much like to avoid becoming the cranky old man who thinks that the last great movies were made by Jerry Lewis and Rita Hayworth.  You know the guy.  The one who longs for the days of The Honeymooners and I Love Lucy and cannot understand why there is so much sex on television today.

I don't want to be that guy.     

And frankly, I'd like to feel a little less lost when discussions related to pop culture arise. 

Yet at the same time I do not want to turn my attention back to television to the degree seemingly required to keep up on these things.

I don't want to watch American Idol or its various dancing incarnations.  I care nothing for the latest police procedural or the latest reality show nonsense.  I don't care about royal weddings and never will.  I have no desire to watch people cook dinner or talk about cooking dinner.  And I don't want to watch a news program that would report on a Kardashian person as if he or she were a legitimate new story.

I was whining about this conundrum over the weekend when someone recommended I watch a television show called Talk Soup in order to keep up on the latest goings-on.  Thirty minutes, I was promised, would be more than enough to keep me in the know. 

I have never seen this show and get the sense that I may require a shower after watching it, but perhaps this is a solution. 

Thoughts?

Royal wedding stupidity

Here's the most disturbing aspect of the attention that Prince Whoever (Harry?  William? I'm thankfully not sure) and his future princess are receiving in light of their recent engagement:

I have not seen a single story about their engagement from a single news source, yet I know that the coverage has been wall-to-wall.

I consume almost all of my news via podcasts, Twitter and online resources such as The Daily Beast,  Slate, NPR and the New York Times.  So although I have seen mention of this recent engagement in my Twitter stream, I have yet to see an actual story on television, in print or on the Web.

Yet I have heard untold numbers of people, both in real life and on podcasts, complain about the amount of coverage that the story is receiving, presumably on news shows like The Today Show and in magazines like People. 

And who knows?  The clunky, commercial-ridden dinosaur known as the 6:00 news as well?

I sincerely hope not.   

The amount of attention that this story has been receiving is disturbing, especially in light of last week's news that a majority of Americans believe that their taxes have increased under President Obama when this is clearly not true.

I wouldn't be so concerned about the attention being given to a monarchy in a foreign country is people weren't so stupid about issues here at home.  

Honestly. why are so many people fixated on a the wedding between two British citizens who have no legislative power whatsoever while they are simultaneously detached from real issues that affect their lives?  Harry or William and his girlfriend are people who have gained their wealth and standing by birth and live in a world of polo ponies, public funding and medieval castles.

Why such fascination from the American public?

And all of this in light of a recent Pew study which found that while 75 percent of those surveyed could correctly identify Republicans as having done better in the midterm elections, less than half of them (46 percent) knew that the GOP had taken control of the House of Representatives.  About 14 percent also believe the GOP won both the House and Senate, and 8 percent think they won the Senate.  A full 27 percent said they did not know either way.  And only 38 percent of the public could correctly identify John Boehner as the presumptive Speaker of the House.

We have a majority of Americans who do not know that almost all of the TARP money has been paid back with interest, and an even greater majority unable to explain what TARP even was. 

Yet we are training a laser-like focus on the future wedding of two inconsequential people in a foreign country, so much so that someone like me, who does not watch television news or read tabloid magazines, is aware of the level of attention that these people are receiving via third party complaints.

I asked this question on Twitter and Facebook last week, and now I ask it again:

Is it wrong for me to assume that anyone who follows the coverage of the upcoming royal wedding is stupid?

That's probably a little harsh, but only a little.