I don’t stretch. I win.

I don’t like to walk because I could be running instead. Walking seems like such a waste of time.

Similarly, I don’t stretch before working out because I could be working out instead.

I told this to a college athlete recently and she was shocked. She attempted to convince me about the importance of stretching before any workout.

Less than a week later comes news that there is growing scientific consensus that “pre-exercise stretching is generally unnecessary and likely counterproductive.”

I wish I could go back in time and say, “I told you so!” to my high school track and field coach. All those hours of stretching in the multi-purpose room prior to practice was apparently a complete waste of my time.

It’s moments like these that reinforce my natural inclination towards nonconformity. Just when everyone thinks I’m crazy for behaving counterintuitive or seeming to follow a nonexistent trend, I’m proven to be correct.

This doesn’t actually happen (except in exceptionally rare instances like this), but it’s the belief that they happen and will begin happening more frequently, in combination with the denial over how rarely they actually happen that encourage me to continue adhering to my unconventional instincts.

Not to mention a supremely patient and accepting wife.   

How dare the Pope act so kindly or equitably

According to the Associated Press, the Wall Street Journal and leading Catholic authorities, Pope Francis’s recent decision to wash the feet of two girls, including a Muslim, during a traditional Holy Thursday ritual has been viewed as an attack on Church law by conservative elements of the Catholic Church, of which there are many.

The traditional foot-washing ceremony reenacts the way in which Jesus washed the feet of his twelve apostles during the Last Supper. The Catholic Church has long said women can’t participate because the apostles were all men.

A lesson for the Catholic Church:

There are moments in your life when you think or believe something but know better than to express your opinion out loud lest you sound like a jackass.

If your grandmother has baked a birthday cake that tastes like cardboard, you know to keep your mouth shut even after Grandma has gone home because complaining about an elderly woman’s cooking prowess is sure to make you look downright despicable.

If you think that all babies are fairly annoying, ugly and stupid, you wouldn’t announce this to the world lest people think you are a heartless jerk.

If you believe that men are more naturally gifted at mathematics than women, you keep this opinion to yourself unless you are certain that your audience is made up entirely of morons like yourself.

Even most racists know better than to express their mindless hatred out loud. They may avoid friendship with people outside their race or even cross the street in order to avoid crossing paths with a person who does not look like them, but only the most stupid of racists announce their prejudice to the world.  

I suggest that the Catholic Church adopt a similar strategy.

Be angry with the Pope for washing the feet of a young girl or a Muslim.

Go right ahead and believe that only human beings equipped with penises are entitled to this honor.

Feel free to fear that the Pope’s decision to wash the feet of penis-less people might signal an eventual change in Church doctrine that would establish equality between the sexes.

These are all terrible things to think, but you are certainly entitled to think them.   

But don’t say any of them aloud.

When you express outrage over the Pope’s decision to wash the feet of a girl or a Muslim, you come across as a bigoted, sexist jackass. You make your Church seem less palatable and inviting. You do harm to your religion as a whole.

When your criticism borders on insanity, it’s best to keep your stupid mouth shut.

Stupid people are still dangerous.

In my experience, this may be true, but it doesn’t mean that you are safe. They will still attempt to destroy you.

The $91,500 shirt is actually quite useful

The good folks at Hermès have created a black men’s crocodile top that retails for $91,500.

This may seem excessive, but I actually think the shirt is quite useful, for a few reasons:

1. It instantly identifies a company that I will avoid doing business with for the rest of my life.
2. It serves as the ultimate douchebag detector.
3. It provides further evidence that exceedingly ugly things that cost an exceedingly large amount of money will be purchased by exceedingly materialistic people who desire exceedingly expensive status symbols.

WWMD (or maybe WWMDD)

A friend recently employed the following strategy when she found herself looking for a solution to a problem:

WWMD: What Would Matt Do?

And it worked. She asked herself what I would do, and almost immediately, a solution was found. 

I was thrilled. I told her I wanted to make WWMD a thing. A viral sensation. A new decision-making stratagem.

She agreed.

There’s a possibility that she wasn’t being entirely sincere.

Still, it worked for her, so perhaps it could be the next big paradigm in business and life management 

Maybe I could launch a podcast where listeners could ask, “What would Matt do?” and I would respond accordingly.

We could be onto something.

I say “we” in hopes that you are as excited about this as I am. Or perhaps in hopes that using the word “we” will trick you into being as excited about this as I am.

Either one is fine.

But which is better?

What Would Matt Do? (WWMD) or What Would Matthew Dicks Do? (WWMDD)?

Thoughts?

Oh, and if you’d like to pose a question, go right ahead. No need to wait for the podcast and possible network television show. I’m here, waiting.

The Matthew Dicks Law of Thank You Notes

Inspired by a pair of insipid aunts in Will Schwalbe’s memoir The End of Your Life Book Club, I offer this bit of indisputably accurate wisdom regarding gift giving and thank you notes: There is nothing wrong with being disappointed when someone fails to send you a thank you card for a gift that you sent.

I find the requirement a little tedious and arcane when a verbal thank you has already been expressed upon receipt of the gift, but some people think a more formal act of appreciation is important and appropriate.

I think these people are slightly insane, but so be it.

But the important thing to remember is that there is something very wrong with telling other people about a person’s failure to send a thank you note. When you tell a parent, relative, coworker or friend about someone’s failure to send you a thank you note for a wedding or birthday gift, you become exponentially worse than the person who didn’t send the thank you card.

You become a vile and disgusting person.

That’s my rule.

Competitive, creative to-do listing: Which do you think is best?

I used to think that this to-do list was the best ever. In response to its greatness, I produced a series of my own creative to-do lists.

The first one was good.

The second was even better.

Frankly, I thought both were spectacular.

No one seemed to agree, and the idea fizzled. Or maybe I just forgot to keep making lists.

I forget.

Maybe I’ll start making lists again. It was fun, but when you’re the only one having fun, it often ceases to be fun.

Either way, this list is possibly better than the first. It has some ridiculous items, but the more realistic items are fantastic.

#6 is my favorite. I will do this. Soon.

Don’t call yourself old

Yesterday I heard a friend who is about my age say, “Kids today are just so disrespectful.”

I laughed. I have yet to meet a student more disrespectful than my friends and I were as children.

Earlier in the week another friend said, “I’m old. Okay? The days of staying awake past 1o:00 are over for me.”

I laughed again. I suspect that my friend’s inability to stay awake past 10:00 has less to do with her age (she’s still in her thirties) and more to do with her sedentary existence. If you’re watching four hours of television a day and rarely exercising, it’s not surprising that you’re exhausted at 10:00 PM.

What reason do you even have for staying awake?

In both cases, I couldn’t help but think about how old my friends sound, even though both have yet to reach the ripe old age of 40.

Sadly, this is nothing new. It seems like complaining about one’s advanced years has become more and more common for people in my age bracket, and I am always shocked at how quickly and agreeably people seem to acquiesce to the idea that they are getting old. 

Perhaps it’s simply denial, but I feel younger today than I have ever felt before, and I have never once said that I feel old or complained about my age. Doing so has always struck me as surrendering. Giving up. Taking the first step into the grave.

It turns out that my instincts (or serious case of denial) are backed by science.

A study published today in the Journal of Eating Disorders finds that women of all ages complain about being old, and that calling yourself old can make you feel as bad about your body as calling yourself fat. The research links so called "old talk" to greater levels of body dissatisfaction, which can in turn lead to higher rates of eating disorders, anxiety, depression and more physical and mental health problems.  

It turns out that even if you feel old, you shouldn’t be talking about it. Doing so can be detrimental to your wellbeing.

While I admit that my avoidance of “old talk” is intentional (and my detestation for it is universal), it’s true that I feel younger today than ever before. 

I suspect that the reasons are threefold:

1. My children make me feel young. The endless games of tag with my daughter, the rolling and tumbling on the floors with both kids and the crawling and scraping and sliding through playground equipment often have me feeling like a kid again.

If you’re feeling old, go play with your kids like you are a kid.

 

2. As a teacher in an elementary school, I often find myself wrapped up in the pursuits of the young. I play four square with the kids at recess. I jump on the stage in the classroom and perform Shakespeare alongside them. I write ridiculous poems and tell crazy stories from my childhood in order to keep them entertained and motivated. I trade merciless barbs with them and laugh at their terrible jokes. All this allows me to remain intimately connected with childhood.

If you’re feeling old, spend more time with children doing the things that children do.

3. My professional life is busier and more fulfilling today than ever before. Between teaching, writing, storytelling, my small business and a myriad of other projects that I have going, I feel more present and connected to the world than ever before.

If you’re feeling old, turn off the television and pursue an honest-to-goodness passion. Paint. Write. Mountain bike. Design an iPhone app. Start a small business with a friend. Become the world record holder in jumping jacks. Volunteer. Do something, damn it.

Just don’t talk about how old you are. For your own sake as well as mine.

The Matthew Dicks Treatise on Humility

When it comes to humility, I try to abide by these five rules:

1. Be confident about the things that you know and do well. People want to know and believe in experts.
2. Shut up if you don’t know what you’re talking about.  
3. Acknowledge that regardless of your expertise, you have more to learn.
4. Acknowledge that your accomplishments did not happen without the help of others or through the graces of blind luck.   
5. Don’t ever be arrogant enough to name a treatise after yourself.

Do you know anyone who smokes?

As Connecticut debates a ban on smoking in cars with children, The Daily Beast offers a list of establishments where smoking is still permitted.

I’m frankly stunned that any of these places still exist.

I’m even more surprised that young people continue to start such an expensive, destructive and stigmatizing habit.

I know a lot of people. I am blessed with many friends.

I don’t know a single person who smokes. 

I see smokers all the time, standing outside buildings, sitting on park benches and walking the golf course, but I can’t think of anyone who I know personally who smokes.

Not one.

This leads me to wonder:

Has there been a self-imposed segregation of smokers and nonsmokers in this country?

Less than 20% of Americans smoke. Has this ever-shrinking percentage of the population hunkered down into tiny smoking enclaves? Have they formed small tribes of nicotine-stained addicts who isolate themselves from the general population when it comes to social interaction? Is there any social circle in America that contains a true blend of smokers and nonsmokers?

Or am I simply an outlier? Is it strange that I don’t know any smokers on a personal level?

Odds would seem to indicate that better than 1 in 6 of the people who I know are smokers, but if you asked me to find three people whose names I know who also smoke, I don’t think I could find more than one.

Is this normal?

More importantly, what does it say about the socially isolating nature of smoking?

If I want to convince a teenager not to smoke, should I focus on the health risks, or should I simply explain that smoking reduces the potential of your social circle by more than 80%?

For a teenager, a reduction of that size in potential friends and dates might actually seem more menacing.

A easy-to-implement, nearly-free, must-steal idea for libraries and bookstores everywhere: Blind Date with a Book

On Thursday I had the honor of speaking to a large and enthusiastic audience at the Townsend Public Library in Townsend, Massachusetts. MEMOIRS OF AN IMAGINARY FRIEND was chosen for their annual One Book One Town event, and I couldn’t have been more thrilled. I spent the first hour talking about the craft and business of writing and the second hour discussing the book. There were so many questions from the audience that the lights literally went out before we were finished.

The library is beautiful and the staff is knowledgeable, down-to-earth and incredibly passionate about books.

While strolling through the aisles before the event, I stumbled upon this ingenious means of promoting books that I think every library  and bookstore should steal immediately:

Blind Date with a Book.

Books are wrapped in colorful wrapping paper, adorned with clues about the book, and left on the shelf for patrons to check out as a surprise read.

In addition to providing library patrons with the occasional surprise read, these books would make for great gifts in a bookstore. They come already wrapped in the event the buyer is in a rush (which I always am), and there is an added layer of mystery and suspense that makes the gift unique and a little more fun and interesting for both the giver and the receiver.

    

Three reasons I don’t ski. I also avoid cocaine and Angry Birds for similar reasons.

I don’t ski.

Years ago, a doctor told me to avoid skiing because of the cartilage tears in both of my knees. While I often cite this as the reason for not skiing, I have admittedly never been one to adhere to doctor’s instructions.

The real reason I don’t ski is because of something I was told back in 1992. I was working at a bank in Stoughton, Massachusetts as a customer service representative. I was helping a man settle an issue with his account, and while I was waiting for the necessary information, I asked him if he had plans for the weekend.

“Skiing,” he said. “Always skiing.”

Having grown up poor, I had never been skiing before, so I mentioned to him that I’d like to try skiing someday.

“Don’t,” he said. “Skiing is exactly like cocaine. It’s expensive, it’s addictive and you will get hurt.”

That sounded about right. So I decided there and then to never ski.

It’s the same reason I have never played Angry Birds or any other game on my iPhone. I know I would like the games a lot, and I know I would waste an enormous amount of time playing them.

Better to avoid them entirely. 

As the man rose to leave my office, he turned, smiled and said, “It’s also all about the quality of the powder.”

Bethany Meyer’s recent 5 Reasons This Family Isn't Skiing is a good list, but I like my former banking customer’s list better.

Lessons learned from my McDonald’s career

My career at McDonald’s was a long one with many twists and turns.

I began working for McDonald’s when I was 16 years old after a friend learned that they were paying ten cents over minimum wage ($4.65). We interviewed at the store in Milford, MA and were hired on the spot.

Remarkably, I never asked my parents if I could get a job and never informed them that I was applying for the position.

When I was 17 years old and still in high school, I was promoted to manager. I continued working as a manager, working in company-owned stores in Milford, Norwood, Brockton, Hanson, and Bourne, until I was fired at the age of 22 when a deposit went missing and the police arrested me despite the company’s assurances that I was not responsible for the loss.

“We don’t believe that you took the money, but the police do, so we have no choice but to terminate our relationship with you.”

Three months later I was hired by the owner of a franchise in a second Brockton location to manage his store while awaiting trial. I would work in that store for almost two years as my second full time job while attempting to pay mounting legal fees for my upcoming court case.

It was during this time that I was robbed at gunpoint while closing the store.

When I moved to Connecticut at the age of 25, I left McDonald’s for a year before returning to the company for its flexible schedule in order to put myself through college. I managed a store in Hartford, CT for five years while I earned degrees from Manchester Community College, Trinity College and Saint Joseph’s University. I left the company for good when I was hired to teach elementary school upon graduation.

In all, I worked for McDonald’s for about twelve years of my life, almost all that time as a manager. I worked an enormously diverse group of people in those dozen years, including some of the most impressive people who I have ever met in my life.

I also learned many life lessons while working for McDonald’s, and I suspect that much of the success I enjoy today was in part the result of my time with the company.

These lessons include:

• Develop systematized routines that eliminate needless steps in order to maximize efficiency. Much of my life is predicated on this belief and the systems that I have constructed for myself. 
• Clean as you go. Never allow mess or disorganization to accumulate.
• Treating everyone on a team as an equal, regardless of title or age, is  guaranteed to increase productivity and morale.
• Making a meaningful personal connection with every member of a team will result in an army of loyal allies.
• Personal pride can be derived from almost any task. Challenge yourself to be the best at everything you do, regardless of its importance. 
• Your success is almost always predicated on the success of others.  
• Never underestimate the value of a person in desperate need of a job, regardless of their lack of skill level or ability to speak English.
• Always be grateful to have a job.

Sticking the in-laws in an elaborate doghouse just might be the perfect solution

Five years ago I tried to convince my in-laws to buy the house next door to us. It would’ve been perfect. Small, inexpensive and a stone’s throw from my front door.

I know what you’re thinking:

In-laws living next door sounds horrific, but I genuinely like my in-laws, even with their eccentricities and less-than-lovable dogs. After years of getting to know one another, my in-laws have grown accustomed to my divergent thinking, opinionated nature and directness, and I have warmed up considerably to their idiosyncrasies and quirks.

I think of Barbara and Gerry as my parents, and I honestly never thought that would happen.

Even more important, my daughter loves her grandparents more than any child I’ve ever seen, and I expect that my son will feel the same when he is old enough to express his feelings. I knew that having them next door would mean a great deal to the kids and to my wife.

Don’t get me wrong. I was also prepared for the potential problems that in-laws living next door could bring. I had already devised a flag system, for example, to protect my privacy when necessary. 

Red flag: Don’t even think about coming over.

Blue flag: Feel free to come over if you’d like.

White flag: Get your ass over here pronto.

Unfortunately, my in-laws rejected my idea of buying the house next door and continue to split their time between New York City and the Berkshires. We see them quite often, but not often enough for my daughter’s liking.

Not to mention the missed opportunity for next door babysitting on almost any night of the week.

But there may be a solution to our in-law housing needs:

The Granny Pod.

Officially known as a MED Cottage, these are 288-square-foot self-contained miniature houses that fit in most backyards, with a bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom. What sets them apart from other portable, yard-friendly houses are the Granny Pod’s "smart robotic features" that monitor the inhabitant's vital signs, filter contaminants from the air, and allow the inhabitants to easily communicate with the main house.

While my in-laws don’t require any of the medical features that Granny Pods offer, a small house in the backyard might be the perfect way to keep my in-law’s close by but not underfoot.

Sort of like an elaborate doghouse or a backyard shed with amenities.

With my flag system, of course.

My latest and greatest gift idea is one that I think everyone could embrace

My birthday is coming up in two weeks. My wife often asks me for possible gift ideas, as I can be a difficult person when it comes to presents. I am much more interested in eliminating things from my life than adding to it. The accumulation of stuff does not interest me. In fact, if someone would just agree to clean out the the extra furniture from my garage, that might be the best birthday gift of all.

The curse of the minimalist.

Truthfully, the best gift anyone can ever give me is the gift of time, but that is not an easy one to bestow. Even so, Elysha has managed this at least a few times in the past. She has hired people to cut the grass and rake the leaves and shovel the driveway, thus returning this precious time to me.

I recently had an idea for a new kind of gift:

The gift of knowledge.

Find a way to teach me to do something that I’ve always wanted to do but never could or haven’t had time yet to learn.

There are many things I would like to learn. If you’re looking to give me something for my birthday, why not find a way to teach me one of these things? Either teach me yourself or find someone who can do it for you.

Can you imagine a better gift?

I can’t.

The list of things I want to learn include:

Change the oil in my car
Give my car a tune-up
Post a podcast online
Invest in individual stocks
Hit my driver longer and more consistently
Install replacement windows in my home
Become more knowledgeable and skilled with WordPress
Sync all my calendars reliably on my iPhone

I know the last one sounds lame, but I have yet to sync multiple calendars from multiple accounts (including my work account) onto my phone with any degree of success, and learning to do so would be an enormous time saver for me.

It doesn't sound like much, and it might take someone just five minutes to teach me, but I have yet to find the person who can help me, and those five minutes would represent an enormous savings of time and effort for me and thus would make for an outstanding birthday gift.

Perhaps I’m not so hard to buy for after all.

Best use of duct tape ever

I received a gift in the mail last week from a former student. Here it is.

At first I thought that she has simply seen the Patriots logo, been aware of the versatile nature of duct tape and decided it would make the perfect gift.

If this had been the case, I would be have been quite happy with the gift.

But she transformed a great gift into an unforgettable, top-10 of all time gift by adding the following to the accompanying note:

Mr. Dicks, use this to shut the hollering mouths of the Jets, Giants and especially Dolphins fans in your classroom.

The principal informed me that duct taping the aforementioned children’s mouths was not appropriate (something I also suspected), but that’s okay.

When it comes to gift giving, it’s always the thought that counts.

Opening night for The Clowns! And perhaps a new way of writing fiction?

Opening night of our rock opera, The Clowns, was a huge success. Over the last eight days, the actors, musicians and director have taken our original vision and brought it do life, and in the process, the show has become so much more complete.

Most surprising for me has been the way in which the actors have informed my vision of the characters. In less than two weeks, each of them have used the script and score to develop their characters into more compelling, fully realized beings. From improved dialogue to newfound aspects to a character’s personality and backstory to something as simple as the way a character walks, the actors have provided me with an enormous amount of material for future revisions.

In many ways, they have come to know these characters better than me. I couldn’t be more grateful. I’ve stolen so much from each one of them and plan on doing so much more.

As a novelist, I suddenly find myself wishing that I could have professionals like these performing each of the scenes in my manuscript. I fear that there is so much more that I could learn about my characters if I could involve actors in the process.

Perhaps someday I might give this a try.

Of course, I’ll need enough money to keep professional actors on staff during the writing process, but there is always hoping.

Actually, maybe Kickstarter could help. Would readers be willing to fund a project like this in return for a signed first edition of the novel (signed by rhe author and the actors) plus complete video footage of each of the scenes as performed by the actors involved?

The more I think about it, the more interested I become. 

Our second show kicks off tonight 8:00 PM tonight at The Playhouse on Park. If you’re local and would like to attend, please call the Playhouse on Park in advance. We may be sold out for the Saturday performance.

In the meantime, here is a sneak peek of the show. This was recorded a few days ago during one of our music rehearsals. The song is called Forever, Wrapped Up in a Day, written and composed by my writing partner, Andy Mayo.  

My secret wish for 2013 is for Comic Sans

My secret wish for 2013 is for the New York Times to publish an edition entirely in Comic Sans, just so we can watch its more staid, crotchety and snobbish readers lose their minds for a day.

That would be AWESOME.

A holiday gift idea that is unusual, renewable, charitable and might gleefully annoy the materialistic moron in your life.

My classroom operates a microloan account through Kiva that has been funded over the years by students through the sale of poetry. We have a total of $250 that we loan to small business owners and entrepreneurs around the world, focusing primarily on third world nations where our money can do the most good.

Whenever we have money available to loan, my students spend a couple hours researching prospective loan applicants on Kiva’s website, choosing possible recipients for our loan and writing proposals that are then read to the class. We debate the merits of each proposal and ultimately decide to whom our money will be lent via a vote.

My students love the process. The ability to make a tangible difference in another person’s life is a powerful experience for them, and the time spent learning about these struggling entrepreneurs provides a greater perspective and understanding of the world beyond our borders.

It has also led to a possible holiday gift idea:

In lieu of a traditional gift, why not open a microloan account on someone’s behalf via an organization like Kiva and provide enough funding for the recipient to begin making loans? Kiva requires loans to be made in $25 increments, so for a relatively small amount of money, you can give a friend or loved one the gift of gift giving. There are even microloan organizations that allow for the lender to charge a nominal interest rate, meaning your gift could continue to grow for the recipient as the money continues to be lent.

I love this idea for both children and adults. It’s unusual, it provides the recipient with a renewable experience, it serves as a counter to the materialism and commercialism that dominate so much of holiday gift giving. and it does not contribute to the accumulation of stuff in a person’s home.

It’s the perfect gift.

Moreover, there is a decent chance that this particular gift would be poorly received by the gift-obsessed, materialistic moron who insists on traditional, quid pro quo gift giving.

You know who I mean. Right? That less-than-enlightened person in your life who remembers every gift that he or she has ever received and attempts to infer your intentions and level of affection based upon the quality and cost of the gift. 

In exchange for the cashmere sweater that he or she has given you, this particular breed of materialistic friend or relative expects something of similar value and quality in return. Offering the ability to loan $50 to a dressmaker in Guatemala or a fruit picker in Pakistan might annoy this kind of person, which makes the gift even more appealing in my eyes.

Poking and prodding and provoking the materialistic can be great fun, and even better, it’s al for a worthy cause.

The “I told you so” calendar is rooted in rhetoric. Its apparent pettiness is simply an unexpected byproduct.

I was recently criticized for the creation of my “I told you so” calendar. It was described as mean, petty and hyper competitive.

I can understand this perception, and while there may be a smidgen of truth to these claims, the real reason for the existence of my “I told you so” calendar is simple accountability.

As a person who thrives on rhetoric and argumentation, I encounter people on an almost daily basis who are willing to toss around absurd notions, make unlikely predictions and offer ridiculous assurances in order to make a point or win an argument. Knowing full well that their ideas cannot be proven wrong until some point in the distant future, these people have the freedom to say whatever they hell they want to gain an edge. In the face of logic and reason, these people often respond with emotion, desperation and lunacy.

Yet they routinely get away with their flawed rhetoric because in the everyday exchange of ideas and opinions, there is no accountability. People are allowed to say almost anything they want in order to win they day, knowing full well that no one is fact-checking their absurdity.

A perfect example of this occurred for me in the realm of parenting. Prior to the birth of my children, I was assured by many people that I would someday suffer the same parental indignities that they were on an everyday basis.

My children would be sleeping in my bed off and on until they were at least three years old. 

I would never again see the interior of a movie theater.

I wouldn’t sleep well for at least five years.

My days of attending Patriots games would swiftly come to an end with the birth of my children.

These parental doomsayers seemed to thrive on the chance to cast as many negative aspersions as possible, and each time I tried to refute their claims, I was greeted with responses like, “You’re not a parent yet, so you don’t understand” and “You’re so naïve” and “You just wait and see.”

It was easy for these parents to make these claims. They were admittedly much more experienced with parenting than me, but more importantly, they were not burdened by accountability. My babies were months and years away from existing, so these naysayers possessed the freedom to say whatever they wanted. There was no mechanism to reengage in this debate once these naysayers had been prove wrong.

The “I told you so” calendar serves that purpose. It adds a layer of fact-checking and accountability to discourse that would otherwise be absent. It prevents someone from supporting their opinion with flawed logic or making an unlikely and oftentimes ridiculous prediction without the possibility that someone may someday highlight their inaccuracy and stupidity. It serves as balance to the bravado and arrogance of those who believe that their future view of the world is right and just at all times.   

And yes, it may seem mean and petty at times, and it might also serve my competitive nature, but these are merely byproducts of a system that is designed to add accountability to the occasional absurdity of daily discourse.

It’s too easy to spout nonsense in today’s world in order to win an argument or at least extract yourself from an debate that you are losing.

No more.

This is the true purpose of the “I told you so” calendar.