Michael Scott’s final words deserved to be heard

Just for the record, I did not approve of the final moment between Pam Halpert and Michael Scott during Steve Carell’s final episode of The Office.

Like the final moment between Bill Murray and Scarlett Johansson in Lost in Translation, the writers chose to leave the final dialogue between the two characters a secret, which in my mind amounts to little more than cowardice on their parts.

Afraid of the momentous task of writing the final lines of dialogue for a character of such import as Michael Scott, the writers blinked and chose the easy way out.

An unheard conversation, shot at a distance, and later summarized by Pam.

And the scene didn’t even make sense. Though we saw Michael turn over his microphone before heading to the plane, there was no reason why Pam would not have been miced at that moment, and so the dialogue should have been available to the documentarians.

And if we were meant to believe that the filmmakers had captured toe dialogue between Michael and Pam but had chosen not to air it, why would they then ask Pam what had been said?

The audience deserved the last words of Michael Scott.

Not the friends I want

“Carrying a $10,000 Birkin bag by Hermès will make you the envy of your friends. It could also help you snag a higher salary and better job recommendations.”

This is the lead to a TIME article about recent research that suggests, much to my horror, that fashion choices, and specifically designer labels, influence earning potential.

"The present data suggest that luxury consumption can be a profitable social strategy because conspicuous displays of luxury qualify as a costly signaling trait that elicits status-dependent favorable treatment in human social interactions."

While I find the results of this study unfortunate and sad, I like the idea of  designer labels being “conspicuous displays of luxury.”

Not “quality merchandise” or a “sound investment” as has been suggested to me by brand name mavens.

A conspicuous display of luxury.

Specifically, the researchers cite the ridiculous Lacoste shirts that I have criticized in the past as being an example of a conspicuous display of luxury. Though I understand how a purposeful demonstration of wealth can serve as an indicator of success (and probably low self-esteem), I am still stunned that so many people, so many years out of high school, still operate with these beliefs.

Make hiring decisions based upon these beliefs.

Find value in an embroidered reptile or an expensive watch or a series of interlocking G’s on a handbag.

It saddens me to think that all things equal, the guy with the embroidered reptile on his left breast is more likely to get the job than the guy without a reptile.

I don’t love the lead to the Time magazine article either, which begins with the sentence:

“Carrying a $10,000 Birkin bag by Hermès will make you the envy of your friends.”

While I realize that any handbag is unlikely to generate envy from any of my friends, I don’t think any of them have ever experienced envy based upon my clothing or any other of my physical possessions.

I can’t remember the last time I was envious of a friend over something he or she owned.

Nor can I remember a time when a friend expressed envy over something that someone else owned.

I am admittedly envious of friends over their skill on the golf course, their ability to repair an car’s engine and the ease with which they can install a dishwasher, but I can’t remember a time as an adult when I looked at a friend’s clothing or car or jewelry or home and wished it were mine.

Frankly, if TIME magazine was right and a designer label would make the envy of my friends, I might have to question the future of the friendship.

I have no time for such nonsense.

I graduated from high school a long time ago.

Henry Blake and Michael Scott: Thankfully not as intertwined as I (and many others) had feared

As The Office’s Michael Scott leaves the show forever, he boards a plane for Colorado and his new life. The final image before the scene ends is of his plane rising into the air. And in that instant, I thought about Henry Blake’s fate on M*A*S*H and was suddenly terrified that the writers of The Office might have decided upon a similar fate for Michael Scott.

Henry Blake was the commanding officer of the M*A*S*H unit featured in the long-running sitcom, and in season 3, he finally received his discharge papers. But the plane returning him to the States is shot down over the Sea of Japan with no survivors, thus killing off a beloved character at what should have been a moment of joy for the viewers.

The news of Blake’s demise shocked the viewing audience.

In fact, the very next night on The Carol Burnett Show, the opening shot was of Henry Blake actor McLean Stevenson in a smoking raft, waving his arms, hollering, "I’m OK! I’m OK!"

Even though I had seen Blake’s demise in reruns, it still saddened me beyond description. The thought that the same might be happening to Michael Scott sent a shiver down my spine.

I mentioned this to my wife, but she had never seen M*A*S*H. And then I wondered if anyone watching Michael Scott’s last episode of The Office had experienced a similar feeling of dread upon watching that plane take off.

M*A*S*H ran from 1972-1983, making it too old for me to have appreciated during it’s original airing and too old in syndication for my wife. But I watched the show in reruns on channel 38 out of Providence and loved every minute of it.

I’ve often said that it was the only good thing that my evil stepfather ever gave me.

Sadly, I tried to watch some M*A*S*H reruns a few years ago and discovered that the show didn’t survive the test of time. In comparison to today’s television, M*A*S*H is melodramatic, preachy and morally unambiguous. It also contains a laugh track, which makes it sound overly earnest and dated.

But I still love those characters and the memory of the show.

So I tweeted my thoughts of Henry Blake last night at the conclusion of The Office. I wrote:

Terrified that we were going to have another Henry Blake moment as Michael Scott's plane took off. Anyone understand the reference? Anyone?

Within a minute I received responses from four or five people who had experienced the same feelings of dread, and by the morning, more than a dozen people had expressed similar feelings.

This is the greatest of the Internet. Twenty years ago I would have been alone in these thoughts, wondering if anyone else in America was thinking like me.

Not anymore.

Before writing this post, I was responding to readers in Nebraska, California and Manchester, England. All contacted me today through the unifying force of the Internet.

And in the midst of writing this post, I received an email from someone in Minnesota who loved Henry Blake and also thought that Michael Scott might suffer a similar fate.

Amazing times we live in. Huh?

The Facebook like button gender gap

The Facebook "Like" button appears to have a severe gender bias.

I noticed that the majority of people who like my status updates are female and wondered if this trend is isolated to me or consistent throughout the Facebook universe.

I also realized how unlikely it was for me to ever click the Like button, in part because I tend to use the button judiciously.

As a writer, if I have something to say, I’ll write it. Not click a button.

Based upon other people’s use of the Like button, I suspect that my choice of when to like something may differ from most.

For example, if your status update indicates that you took your kids out for ice cream for the first time this spring, I’m happy for you, but I ‘m not sure how this equates to liking your update.

So while an update like this might receive a dozen or more likes, I am unlikely to like it.

I typically click the Like button for a witty remark, an interesting piece of data, or a laugh-worthy update, and only then if I have nothing to say in response.

So I wonder:

Is there a difference in the way that men and women view the Like button?

Do men view the button like me, and if so, what is the female perception of the button?

Or am I an outlier in terms of my use of the button?

Is my set of Facebook friends also an outlier?

Sampling my front page feed for a period of three days, I counted all the uses of the Like button on status updates that were not my own.

86% of the Likes on these pages were clicked by women. Though 61% of my Facebook friends are also women, this still amounts to quite a disparity.

In addition, I noted that only a small sample of men used the Like button over the course of these three days. While more then 30 different women accounted for the 86% of clicks, only five different men accounted for the remaining 14%.

It would seem that only a certain breed of man uses the Like button with any frequency.

What causes these men use the button while so many other do not?

Unfortunately, I have no answers. I know how I use the Like button, and I know what the data tells me in regards to my small, admittedly biased sample, but that’s about it. When I finish my teaching career someday, I’ve often thought about becoming a sociologist, and this is the kind of research that I would love to do.

In fact, I’ve toyed with the idea of declaring myself an unaccredited sociologist and beginning research on my own, absent any formal degree or training, but it remains a low priority at the moment.

So absent my proposed research, what do you think?

Is my data typical for most Facebook users?

If so, what is the reason for this disparity?

Most important, what does this disparity say about the difference between men and women in general?

These are the kinds of questions I’d like to answer someday.

Actually, just writing them down and seeing them on the screen bumps my unaccredited sociologist idea up a few pegs.

Perhaps I’ll be Matthew Dicks the Unaccredited Sociologist sooner than I thought.

Devil on the rise

Two firsts today. Neither very good. 1. My daughter’s preschool teacher informed us that our normally angelic child misbehaved today for the first time. She yelled at her teachers and classmates and was non-compliant.

She is remarkable verbal, they say, but today she used those words for no good.

I fear that my genes are finally asserting themselves.

2. Clara also told me to put down the seat on the toilet after I emerged from the bathroom.

“Close the potty!  Close the potty!” she shouted.

She’s only two years old and she’s already nagging me.

 

McDonald’s and Charlie Sheen would be bad titles, too

In regards to yesterday’s post on author’s acknowledgements: The Ottoman Hotel, Christopher Currie’s novel that includes a marriage proposal within the acknowledgement section, is poorly titled.

There is a real Ottoman Hotel in Turkey that is apparently quite well known. The first five pages of Google return results related to the hotel, so breaking through to the first page is going to be difficult for Currie.

Adding the word "book" to the query doesn’t help either. The Ottoman Hotel remains the subject of the results, and options for booking a room fill the page instead.

Only when "The Ottoman Hotel" is combined with Currie’s name does mentions of his book begin to appear.

Not good for a reader looking for a book but can’t remember the author’s name.

But a good lesson for authors choosing their titles.

Make those titles unique.

This is how moms want to spend their weekend?

This week Living Social alerted me to the gomom.me convention taking place this weekend in Hartford, Connecticut.

As far as I can tell, this is a convention dedicated to mothers. There will be a “motherhood panel of amazing moms,” a “fun image workshop,” a Spa Power Hour and a eco-friendly gift bags filled with samples and goodies.

I thought about the possibility of a similar convention for fathers and then remembered that I DON’T KNOW ANY MEN WHO WOULD BE STUPID ENOUGH TO ATTEND SUCH A RIDICULOUS, UNNECESSARY, SELF-AGGRANDIZING AFFAIR.

Not one.

To be honest, I have yet to find a woman who thinks this is a good idea either. Female responses to this convention have ranged from “absurd” to “embarrassing for all of womankind” to “downright creepy.”

And as you can see from the Living Social image, only 30 people took advantage of the 67% savings.

Not a lot for a deal that offered $5 admission.

All this has left me wondering if we have reached the point where attending motherhood panels and image workshops are the best ways of spending a Saturday afternoon.

I realize that there are women who seem to believe that motherhood equates to martyrdom and who barter for free time from the kids with their spouse as if they are negotiating nuclear disarmament, and I am sure that there are fathers who feel and act the same way.

But are there really enough of them to fill a convention hall for a weekend?

I nearly purchased the Living Social deal on Monday, just to be able to pop in and witness this spectacle for myself. And since I am home alone this weekend with my daughter while my wife is in New York, Clara and I may still drive down to the convention center to take a peak if we find ourselves in need of something to do.

My disgust for this event is only matched by my curiosity over it.

Maybe I can get a blog post or even a short story out of the adventure.

A proposal in an author’s acknowledgements? How do I top this one?

After thanking his publisher and various bosses in the acknowledgements at the end of The Ottoman Hotel, first time novelist Christopher Currie thanked his girlfriend.

"If it's possible to fall more in love with someone every day, then that's what I do. To my favorite, to the reason I live my life, Leesa Wockner, who, if she reads this, I hope will agree to marry me, despite the number of commas in this sentence."

That’s right.  He asked her to marry him in the acknowledgements.

Damn.

And I thought my engagement story was good.

My immediate reaction was the story was this:

How do I top it?

What can I include in the acknowledgements of my next book, or perhaps in the book itself, that can one-up a wedding proposal?

I guess I could also propose marriage to someone, which would be even more noteworthy considering that I’m happily married already.

But that would feel like copying.

So what else?

I could reveal one of my deepest, darkest secrets in the acknowledgements, except I think I’ve revealed most of my deepest, darkest secrets on this blog already.

I could announce the pregnancy of my wife, if she were pregnant, and if we could time the pregnancy to the publication date of the next book, and if my wife was patient enough to wait until next May to get pregnant, and if she could keep the pregnancy secret for more than twelve seconds, which she was not able to do the first time.

So I guess that isn’t going to happen.

For a moment I thought about seeking revenge upon someone in the acknowledgements. Acknowledging them as a poopy pants or a cowardly, backstabbing evildoer. Goodness knows I have more than a few people in my life who are deserving. But I’ve already written an unpublished manuscript that serves this purpose nicely and is much more subtle about the whole thing.

And someday it’ll be published.

So what other big moments in life compare to a marriage proposal and the birth of children?

Landing on the best seller list? Finding the perfect grilled cheese recipe? Shooting under 90 in a round of golf?

Probably.  But none of these conform well to an acknowledgements page, and none are likely to happen anytime soon.

Especially the golfing one.

Perhaps I could use my acknowledgements as a shout-out to someone I’ve always wanted to meet.  Express my appreciation to Derek Jeter or David Sedaris or Bill Bryson or Paula Poundstone, even though none of them have nothing to do with the book, in hopes that one of them might reach out and give me a call.

Maybe even offer to meet me for dinner.

Or maybe step outside the box a little more and acknowledge the people who know the truth behind the JFK shooting or the fine folks working on that crashed spaceship that the US government has hidden away in Area 51.

Imagine getting that call.

“Hi, I’m one of the astrophysicists working on the crashed alien ship in Area 51. I just wanted to thank you for acknowledging our work on your Acknowledgements page. As you can imagine, we don’t get a lot of attention or fanfare here. Everything is always Top Secret this and Top Secret that.  We’ll execute you if you tell anyone about the alien bodies we have in the freezer. So thanks for remember us down here. You made my day.”

Now that might top a silly little marriage proposal.

No exaggeration

My father-in-law once asked a former student of mine if I had a tendency to exaggerate at times. “No,” the boy said.  “Mr. Dicks doesn’t exaggerate.  He either tells the truth or he lies.”

I’m not sure if it’s entirely true, but it’s an intriguing observation.

If only they were real…

If only my daughter’s new washer and dryer were real, my wife’s life would be so much easier, because Clara loves to pretend to do the laundry.  

My wife does almost all the laundry in the home, but for the record, I did almost all of the laundry the four years that we lived in apartments together, and I am still willing to help out with the laundry whenever needed.

Those were four good years of laundry, too. I learned to fold shirts and pants according to her exacting specifications (she worked briefly at Abercrombie and Fitch and the rules stuck), separate items according to color and fabric and remember to use a dryer sheet more than half of the time.

Despite these better than average skills, my wife routinely declines my offers to help with the laundry.

In fact, earlier this week I attempted to surprise her by folding an exceedingly large load of clothing and wash and dry two others. I also packed up all the clothing in the laundry room and transported it to the bedrooms to be put away.

I was feeling pretty good about myself.

When she came home and realized what I had done, I did not receive the appreciative hug and kiss that I had expected. Instead I was greeted with a look of suspicion and a thorough examination of my laundry progress.

It’s amazing how one or two shrunken sweaters can leave a woman bitter after so many years.

Professional best man for hire

New job idea: Professional best man. While I meet many outstanding best men in my role as a DJ, I also meet many who are too nervous to deliver the toast, too drunk to assist a groom in need, and too disinterested in the role to be of any use.

Besides, why burden your best friend with this role if all he wants to do is have a good time at the wedding as well?

Instead, hire me. Your professional best man.

What, you may ask, are my qualifications for such a job?

They are, admittedly, quite extensive:

• I’ve attended more than 400 weddings as a DJ, guest, groom, member of the bridal party and best man, so there is little that I have not seen. As a result, I will be ready and able to assist in almost every unexpected or unusual circumstance.
• My experience and expertise will allow me to ensure that the DJ, photographer, caterer and other professional staff are doing their jobs to the best of their ability and serving the bride and groom to my exceedingly exacting standards.
• I have extensive experience in dealing with in-laws, drunken guests, angry girlfriends, belligerent uncles and any other potentially disruptive wedding attendee and am adept at deflecting these distractions away from the bride and groom.
• I can deliver an outstanding toast. I am often instructing criminally- unprepared best men on what to say just minutes before their toasts and make them sound quite good.
• I am a skilled party planner and will give you the bachelor’s party of your dreams while also ensuring that you do nothing that you will regret the next day.
• I possess a wide range of interests and am skilled at ingratiating myself to a wide range of people. I can do jock and nerd equally well and rarely meet someone who I cannot find common ground. We may not be best friends after your wedding, but for the duration of our nuptials, I will be surprisingly likable and chameleon-like in my ability to blend in with your group of friends. And who knows? One of my best friends is a former client. It could happen for you, too.

And what if you want to hire a professional best man but have a friend who also wants the job and would be upset to learn that you went with a professional?

No problem. Simply have two best men.

One who will get drunk during the cocktail hour, hit on one of the bridesmaids during photos, deliver a humorless speech and forget to end it with an actual toast.

The other will not drink at your wedding except when capping off an amusing and heartfelt toast, will keep your best interests in mind at all times and is skilled and experienced enough to ensure that everything goes smoothly on your wedding day.

Don’t you deserve another friend on your wedding day?

A friend absent of personal needs and petty grievances on your big day.

A friend who will guide you through and past every awkward, annoying, unfortunate, and potentially disastrous moment of your wedding.

Don’t you deserve the services of a professional on your wedding day?

A professional best man.

Super Grover to the rescue

My daughter refused to take a nap today. After spending about 30 minutes playing in her crib, she began calling for Super Grover to rescue her from her nap.

“Super Grover! I need help!  Super Grover!  Help me!"

We don’t normally succumb to her demands for extraction, but we strongly believe in rewarding humor and originality. So once we were finished laughing, we plucked her from the crib and spared her the anguish of an afternoon snooze.

Super Grover didn’t save her. In the end, it was her wit that won the day.

Can the wisdom of the near-death experience be passed on without the experience itself?

Having survived two near-death experiences and faced death at the end of a gun, I understand Ric Elias’s TED Talk with great precision. I’ve found someone who truly understands how and why I live my life. A near-death experience can be a gift.  It can reconstitute a life and change a person forever.

For me, my near-death experiences represent the defining moments of my life.

They make me who I am.

They are responsible for much of my success.

Thankfully, most people don’t require three near-death experiences in order to learn the lesson.

Ric required just one.

Few understand these lessons intuitively and do not require the cessation of their heart rate or respiration in order to learn them.

But for those that do not, I wonder if it is a lesson than can be learned by listening to a TED Talk. Or to someone like me talk about how my experiences have changed my life.

Can the perspective that Elias and I possess based upon our experiences really be as transformative to people who have not shared a similar experience?

I’m not sure.

Thanks you, Laura Numeroff and Felicia Bond, for saving me from my own stupidity

My daughter experienced her first Easter egg hunt yesterday. While she slept in the early hours of Sunday morning, I came downstairs and hid the ten candy-filled eggs.

My initial hiding places were brilliant.

Inside a coffee mug that was positioned on the top rack of the dishwasher.

Tucked behind two cookbooks on the bookshelf.

Inside the crock pot.

On the top rack of the oven.

Stuffed into one of my shoes.

These hiding places were outstanding, I thought. It might take her hours to find the eggs.

Then I remembered the book that we read to Clara about Easter:

Laura Numeroff’s Happy Easter Mouse!

In the book, Bunny hides the eggs in considerably more conspicuous spots than me.

On top of tables. On a sofa cushion. Behind a chair leg.

It occurred to me that perhaps my hiding spots were too difficult for a two-year old.

Then it occurred to me that we forbid Clara from opening the over or the dishwasher, so those hiding spots were probably bad on a number of levels.

Then I realized that she can’t even reach the crock pot.

She’s never even hunted for Easter eggs before.

Then I felt stupid.

So I collected all the eggs and re-positioned them in fairly obvious locations:

On her chair. On a stool. On her toy box. On the chimney of her dollhouse.

And when she came downstairs and began finding eggs, Elysha turned to me and said, “Your hiding spots are perfect, honey.”

No thanks to me.

Subtly ignored

Elysha and I enjoy Five Guys Burgers and Fries quite a bit. Actually, we like the burgers a lot but no longer order the fries. They’re okay, but nothing great.

But since everything is cooked in peanut oil and they offer free peanuts from boxes positioned around the restaurant, we cannot take our peanut-allergic daughter there for lunch.

It’s like a death-trap for anyone with a peanut allergy.

Still, we love the place and look forward to opportunities to eat there.

But one thing bothers me:

The amount of self-congratulatory advertising that they plaster over their walls.

 

It borders on ego-maniacal, and it seems fairly pointless.

We’re already in the restaurant, eating your food. At that point, just make sure the food is excellent and we’ll come back for more. This is the kind of advertising that one uses to bring customers in the door.

It’s not supposed to be used to assault our senses once we are inside.

In fact, it strikes me as slightly under-confident, which in my mind is one of the worst things a business can be.

Top 10 post-wedding thoughts

Last night’s wedding was the first of the year.  Amidst the mixing of music and making announcements came the following random thoughts: _______________________________________________

1. I have no respect for a minister or justice of the peace who requires a microphone at a wedding ceremony. The ability to project one’s voice should be a prerequisite for the job.

2. Vodka and Diet Coke are two words that should never be spoken together.

3. One of the most embarrassing moments as a DJ was the night that I accidentally played the Jerry Maguire mix of Springsteen’s Secret Garden, with dialogue by Tom Cruise, Renee Zellweger and Cuba Gooding, Jr. interspersed throughout the song. A four-minute cringe that I am reminded of every time I play the correct version of the song (I deleted the Jerry Maguire version immediately after playing it).

4. The bride and groom should never be criticized for scheduling their wedding on the Saturday before Easter. There’s no such thing as Easter Eve, jerk-face.

5.  If you are so tall that you can see over the restroom stall, you should never choose the urinal directly adjacent to the stall, especially when the DJ is changing into his tuxedo and likes to put on a fresh pair of underwear prior to a wedding because it makes him feel a little better about the next seven hours he will spend on his feet.

6. When your dress is shorter than the tee-shirt that my wife wears to bed, it ceases being attractive.

7. Announcing that the groom’s favorite hockey team is winning is never recommended, because when the Bruins give up the tying goal with eight minutes left and are eventually forced to win in a shoot-out after a full overtime period, you spend the remainder of the wedding worried that Boston might lose and you will look like a jackass for insisting that the DJ announce the score before the game was over.

8.  Flirting with the DJ in order to get him to play The Cupid Shuffle is both ineffectual and embarrassing for the both of us.

9.  The value of a competent, experienced maid of honor cannot be overestimated.

10.  As much as I love Louis Armstrong’s "What a Wonderful World," Joey Ramone’s version of the song is emphatically better.

You made that look easy, George. Well played, sir.

Sucks when one of your core issues gets turned on its head and your find yourself suddenly sleeping with the enemy. 

You are probably a better judge of “interesting or unusual” than me

I am working on an author questionnaire for my publisher and must answer the following question: Tell us anything about you as a working writer that you think might be interesting or unusual.

I decided to crowd-source the answer. Thoughts anyone?

Full contact yoga?

You know that Living Social is a successful business model when I purchase their “20 yoga lessons for $20” deal. Me. Yoga.

I know.

I was told that improved flexibility would help my golf swing, and I figured that if I didn’t like it, I could just pass the lessons onto my wife or someone else who might be interested.

Plus I have a friend who is a yoga instructor who might be interested in partnering with me in creating a new form of yoga that includes score keeping, offense and defense, winners and losers.

I want to take the boring out of yoga.

Best book club ever

My book club got a mention in Shelf Awareness today, courtesy of author John Milliken Thompson. People were already jealous of our couples book group. I have visited with more than a dozen book clubs over the past three years, and I have yet to attend one that has a male member.

The idea of a couples book club was downright revolutionary.

And now a mention in Shelf Awareness?

We’re pretty much the best club in America now.

Even if one or two of us fail to finish the book in any given month.