If you want us to be quiet, please ask quietly.

Resolution update June 2015

PERSONAL HEALTH

1. Don’t die.

I am alive as of this posting. .

2. Lose 20 pounds.

Down five pounds as of this morning. Finally, some momentum. 

3. Do at least 100 push-ups and 100 sit-ups five days a week.

Done. I’ve added a plank every morning as well.

4. Stop drinking soda from two-liter bottles.

I didn’t drink soda from a two-liter bottle in June. Soda consumption remains reduced by at least half and water consumption has increased dramatically.     

5. Practice yoga at least five days a week.

I have restarted my routine. My yoga instructor is on the west coast for a few weeks, but I think I'm doing okay. I'm sure he would disagree, but at least I'm doing it.   

6. Learn to cook three good meals for my wife.

I have three recipes to plan for courtesy of a good friend. 

WRITING CAREER

7. Complete my sixth novel before the end of the summer 2015.

Progress continues in earnest. Between this book and the book that I thought would be my sixth book, I've written enough pages for a novel, but sadly, this doesn't count when it comes to actually selling a book.  

8. Complete my seventh novel.

This book is also more than half finished. 

9. Sell one children’s book to a publisher.

I have three books written and ready to go. I have four new ideas that I plan to work on in 2015. We will submit one or more of these books to editors at some point soon.

10. Sell a memoir to a publisher.

The memoir is written. I hope to polish it as soon as the novel is finished. 

11. Sell a book of essays to a publisher.

My book of essays did not sell, but the responses that we received from editors were exceptionally positive. In a few cases, it was not a pass as much as a request that the book be reorganized and written slightly differently than it is currently constituted. I will do so. Fiction is now my main focus, but this remains a priority in 2015.  

12. Complete a book proposal for a book on storytelling.

Progress continues. It's almost fully outlined. 

13. Write a new screenplay.

I’m still revising my first screenplay based upon film agent’s notes. No progress on the new one.  

14. Write 50 pages of a new memoir about the years of 1991-1993.

I have 25 badly written pages for this memoir that must be transformed into 50 good pages in 2015. No progress yet.

15. Write a musical for a summer camp

Finished! It will be produced at a local summer camp in a few weeks. 

16. Publish at least one Op-Ed in a physical newspaper.

I published one more piece in the Huffington Post last month:

I also published two pieces in Seasons magazine. In addition to my usual humor column, my wife and I co-authored a feature on Speak Up, our storytelling organization. 

None of these appeared in a physical newspaper.

17. Submit one or more short stories to at least three publishing outlets.

No progress.

18. Select three behaviors that I am opposed to and adopt them for one week, then write about my experiences on the blog.

My first idea: Backing into a parking spot. I rightfully assume that anyone backing into a parking spot is a lunatic of the highest order. I shall spend a week backing into parking spots and see what wisdom I can glean.

I was supposed to begin this experiment last month and forgot, probably because it's going to be annoying. I begin today. 

19. Build an author mailing list.

Done! My sixth monthly email goes out next week. The job remains twofold:

• Continue to create engaging content that will keep readers interested.
• Build my subscription base.

If you're not signed up for my mailing list, you can do so here. It's about one email a month and includes updates on my writing and speaking and recommendations. This month's newsletter, which will be sent tomorrow, includes TWO GIVEAWAYS and THE GREATEST RECOMMENDATION OF ALL TIME. 

20. Build a new website for matthewdicks.com

Done! Tweaks will continue to be made, but it's up and running. 

STORYTELLING

21. Produce a total of eight Speak Up storytelling events.

We produced two events in June, including our first at the Connecticut Historical Society, bringing our total to six. Two to go.  

22. Deliver my fourth TED Talk.

Done! I've also pitched talks to three other TEDx events in 2015 and two in 2016 and await word.

23. Build a website for Speak Up.

Done! It’s a single page on my new author website, and it’s not nearly as robust as we want it to eventually be, but Speak Up finally has a webpage where you can find dates of events, ticket information, an opportunity to sign up for the mailing list, and more. You can find our webpage at speakupstorytelling.com.

24. Attend at least 10 Moth events with the intention of telling a story.

Done! I attended a GrandSLAM, two Moth StorySLAMs, a Mainstage show, and a special event at Yale in June and told stories at all five shows. This brings my total number of Moth events in 2015 to 13. 

25. Win at least two Moth StorySLAMs.

I won a StorySLAM in April. I lost by a tenth of a point last night.  

26. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

Done twice over! I won the New York GrandSLAM at the Music Hall of Williamsburg in June, bringing my total number of GrandSLAM wins this year to two. Remarkable considering I lost my first eight GrandSLAM championships and have now won three of the last four.   

A lesson in persistence. 

27. Launch at least one podcast.

We have a name. We are ready to launch.

NEW PROJECTS

28. Pitch at least three new projects to two smart people.

I pitched one of my projects to one person in January. No further progress.

29. Host at least one Shakespeare Circle.

Nothing scheduled yet.

MISCELLANEOUS

30. Enroll in the final class needed for certification as a high school English teacher.

No progress. 

31. Set a new personal best in golf.

I played six  rounds of golf in May, breaking 50 for nine holes twice but not coming close to my personal best.  

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

Done.

"Bigot" is a strong word to label a person opposed to same sex marriage. Is it the correct word?

Supreme Court justice Samuel Alito warned on Friday that in the wake of the court’s ruling, Americans who publicly express views in opposition to same sex marriage will now risk recrimination.

He said:

“I assume that those who cling to old beliefs will be able to whisper their thoughts in the recesses of their homes, but if they repeat those views in public, they will risk being labeled as bigots and treated as such by governments, employers, and schools.”

Does Justice Alito really think that we weren't referring to people opposed to same sex marriage as bigots already? That's like saying that Americans didn't label slave owners as racists until slavery was abolished with the 13th Amendment.

Someone should inform Justice Alito that many of us have been thinking of them and referring to them as bigots for years. 

But a question has been posed to me since the Supreme Court ruling and my post on Friday which referred to people who oppose same sex marriage as bigots:

Is it fair to label these people with such a pejorative term?

I have always used the word "bigotry" and "bigot" instead of "homophobia" and "homophobic" because few (if any) of the people who oppose same sex marriage are actually afraid of homosexuals. Rather, they want to limit the rights of homosexuals based solely on the grounds of sexual preference. 

Bigotry seems like the right word to me, and therefore, labeling the practitioners of bigotry as bigots has also made sense. 

But it's been argued by some that bigot is not a fair characterization. Some have told me that they have gay friends who they love dearly, but despite their friendship and love for their friends, they believe that the institution of marriage should be reserved for heterosexual couples only.

Does the love that a person feels for a gay friend or family member preclude them from bigotry, regardless of any political or religious stance they take against the gay community? 

Can you love a person but simultaneously deny them the right to marry whomever they love and not deserve the label of bigot?

On it's face, it strikes me as similar to the attempt to deflect the label of racist by claiming that you have black friends. But consider this: 

What if we were living prior to the 1967 Supreme Court decision that legalized interracial marriage across the country? If you were opposed to interracial marriage but also had African American friends who you loved dearly, would those friendships preclude you from being referred to as a racist? 

I don't think so.

Or what if we were living prior to the abolition of slavery in 1865? What if your best friend supported the institution of slavery based upon the clear and repeated support of slavery in the Bible?  

Would you be expected to respect his or her religious beliefs?

Of course not. 

Would you think of your friend as anything but a racist?

Of course not.

So why is same sex marriage any different? If you believe that homosexuals should not be permitted the right to marry while simultaneously supporting your own right to marry, I have a hard time thinking of this as anything but bigotry. Your opposition may be based on religious grounds, but when you choose to adhere to one bit of Scripture while ignoring hundreds of less convenient lines of Scripture, I think that amounts to bigotry.

And if you are engaged in bigotry, I think the word bigot is appropriately applied. It need not be applied constantly and need not be shouted at people, but it is a label that seems unfortunately fitting. 

That said, I am always open to listening to alternative views and relish debate, and I recognize that labeling someone as a bigot is an excellent way to cut off honest and sincere discussion. It's a divisive word that will not encourage dissenters to engage in conversation. It's an exceptionally strong word, and it's not a very nice one. I wish there were something equally appropriate but slightly less offensive.  

Then again, denying the right of a person to marry and enjoy equal the legal and economic benefits to marriage simply because their marriage does not adhere to your definition of marriage as defined in a religious text from which you cherry pick some ideas while completely ignoring others is also not very nice.

Justice Alito is correct. People who speak out against same sex marriage will run the risk of being labeled as bigots. But that is nothing new. When you seek to limit the rights of Americans based upon sexual preference, you stand in a long line of people who once sought to limit the rights of Americans based upon race, sex, and ethnic origin.

All of these people are now thought of as bigots, and their bigotry seems unfathomable and horrendous by today's standards. So, too, will the opponents of same sex marriage. Twenty years from now (and probably less), we will look back on these days and wonder how gay Americans were ever denied the right to marry. Our children will wonder what the hell their parents and grandparents were thinking. We will look back on the days before this Supreme Court decision the same way we look back upon the decision to legalize interracial marriage in 1967.

We will wonder why we even needed a Supreme Court decision to do what was right and fair and just.

If Alito is concerned about being labeled as a bigot, I suggest that he step out of a long line of bigots and into the 61% of Americans who recognized this basic right to marry even before the Court's decision was handed down. Bigot is not my favorite word, and it's a decisive word, but it's also the right word.   

Americans are moving on, Justice Alito. We are continuing our long march toward justice and equality. Join us or risk being judged by history as the bigot that you currently are.   

The truth behind Gilligan's Island is AMAZING.

I love love love this, and I am choosing to believe this for now and forever more

“Some theorists believe that the setting of Gilligan’s Island is not an island, but rather Hell, and that its sinful inhabitants all perished in the crash of the SS Minnow. According to this theory, each character on Gilligan’s Island represents one of the Seven Deadly Sins. The millionaire Mr. Howell represents Greed, while his work-averse wife represents Sloth. Sexy movie star Ginger stands in for Lust, while innocent farm girl Mary Ann envies Ginger’s beauty and lifestyle. The smart Professor is prideful because he can’t admit that he is unable to fix the ship or get them off the island. Skipper, meanwhile, symbolizes two deadly sins: Gluttony and Wrath, because he’s always taking something out on poor Gilligan. Not that you should feel bad for the titular dimwit; these fans believe that Gilligan represents Satan. He’s constantly screwing up the group’s plans for rescue, and what’s more, he’s always wearing red. ”

— http://mentalfloss.com/article/65017/9-crazy-conspiracy-theories-about-tv-shows

Apple's desire to eliminate as many ports as possible on their laptops may be aesthetically pleasing, but it's also a pain in the ass.

I bought a new Macbook Pro. I plan to use it for recording our Speak Up storytelling shows and one or more podcasts that we are preparing to launch.

Apple equips its laptops with a single audio port, which is annoying. On the old machine, this single audio port was a headphone jack that could be reversed so you could input audio from a mixer board or microphone. It solved the problem, but it was still annoying. It's nice to be able to monitor audio via headphones while also recording. 

Still, it was fine. No big deal.  

On the new machine, however, that dual capability of the audio port has been taken away, meaning the only way to input sound into the machine is via a USB output, which many mixer boards, microphones, and other pieces of audio equipment don't always have. 

Also, it took two trips to the Apple store, 45 minutes of my time, and five "geniuses" to determine the problem. None of them were aware of the change, so eventually a search of the plain old Internet (something I could've done at home) identified the problem.

It was amusing to listen to the Apple employee then attempt to explain Apple's rationale for removing the dual capacity audio port. 

"There's a big shift to audio via UBS now, so getting rid of that reversible jack makes sense."

Two seconds ago, the guy was trying to find the toggle to reverse the port, and now he's explaining the company's philosophy on the change.    

In order to correct this problem, I was told that I could purchase a USB adapter, which Apple does not make or sell.

Why, Apple, can you make such user-friendly software yet insist on making the hardware side of things so difficult?

Bad week for bigots. Good week for progressives. Conservatives? It depends.

The week began with an evil lunatic killing innocent people in hopes of starting a race war. Instead, he got a referendum on the racist flag that he supported. Thanks in part to his actions, the Confederate flag can no longer be purchased at major retailers like Walmart and Amazon, and it's looking like it will soon be removed from the South Carolina capitol and elsewhere.

The flag of Mississippi may even get a long overdue redesign.  

Not exactly what that coward was hoping for when he decided to murder those innocent people.

A few days later the Supreme Court declared same sex marriage legal in this country, sending bigots into fits of rage. I was on the treadmill when the Supreme Court decision was announced, so I immediately changed the channel to Fox News, because schadenfreude is one of my favorite pastimes. Two white, blond women and three old, white men were clearly losing their minds as they read and reread the dissenting opinions while ignoring Justice Kennedy's majority opinion. 

Also, by turning to Fox News, I increased the average age of the Fox viewer by at least ten years. According to the latest Nielsen ratings, the average Fox News viewer is a ripe old 68 years old.

Also, less than one percent of Fox News viewers are black.     

Add to this the Supreme Court's upholding of Obamacare by a surprising 6-3 margin, and it turned out to be great week for progressively minded people.

But regardless of your politics, it should be remembered that this was not a bad day for conservatives. I have some lovely conservative friends who celebrated the Supreme Court decision on same sex marriage. .

It was only a bad day for the bigots who happen to be conservative.

I scheduled my book launch party on Rosh Hashanah for one very good reason.

Comedian Richard Lewis appeared on Marc Maron's podcast last week. At one point in their conversation, Maron asked Lewis if he was ever a Boy Scout. Lewis explains that while he wanted to be a Boy Scout, his mother forbade it after discovering that the troop in his town on Long Island had scheduled their first meeting of the year on Rosh Hashanah. 

"This is how they keep us out," his mother explained. She felt that scheduling a Boy Scout meeting on a high holiday was a clear sign that Jews were not wanted.

While this may have been true, I think Lewis's mother failed to realize something important:

No one knows when the Jewish holidays are happening because they never, ever land on the same day. The use of a Jewish calendar, which in no way coincides with the calendar used by almost all of the world, makes it impossible to know where on the calendar a Jewish holiday may land without actually consulting the calendar.

Rosh Hashanah, for example, can fall anytime between September 5 and October 5.
Yom Kippur can fall anytime between September 14 and October 14.

This is quite a spread.   

Lewis's mother might have thought that the Boy Scout leader should've consulted the calendar before scheduling an event in a month that might contain a Jewish holiday, but one must also remember that only two percent of Americans are Jewish. It's possible that the Boy Scout leader responsible for scheduling meetings didn't have any Jewish friends and simply wasn't as cognizant of the Jewish holidays as someone who has Jewish people in his or her life. 

Though I'm married to a Jew and have many Jewish friends, I didn't know a single Jewish person until I was 25 years old. Growing up in a small town in Massachusetts, I didn't go to school with any Jews, and I didn't make any Jewish friends until I moved to a town with a large community of Jewish people. 

With only two percent of the population being Jewish, it's not unreasonable to think that this Boy Scout leader simply didn't know any Jews personally and was not even aware of these holidays. 

For example, I knew nothing about Ramadan until I made a Muslim friend while in college. Had you asked me the month when Ramadan or any other Muslim holiday is celebrated, I would have had no idea, as I suspect would be the case for Lewis's mother and most non-Islamic people. 

In fact, when was the last time you consulted the calendar for Ramadan before scheduling an event for your company or community organization? About one percent of Americans are Muslim, and that number is rising. I had two Muslim students in my class this year. Does one percent not rise to the level where Muslim holidays need to be considered?

Here's a perfect illustration of this problem:    

I scheduled my book launch party for September 14 of this year. I decided upon the date with my publicist, who (like me) is married to a Jew. Confirmed the date with the bookstore. Announced the date on my blog. Sent the date to my mailing list of almost 1,000 subscribers. Announced the date at our most recent storytelling show.

Amongst these thousands of readers and listeners, there are a lot of Jews. My wife is Jewish. My in-laws are Jewish. I teach in a town with a large Jewish population. Many of my closest friends are Jews. They all knew the date of my launch party. Many of them had already marked their calendars.  

Who discovered that September 14 also happens to be Rosh Hashanah? 

Me. 

Not my wife. Not my in-laws. Not my publicist or anyone at the bookstore. None of my Jewish friends or family.

None of them noticed that we had scheduled my book launch on one of the most important Jewish holidays of the year. 

Why?

Because no one knows when Rosh Hashanah will be on any given year. Or Yom Kippur. Or Hanukkah. Or any other Jewish holiday. In a country where 98% of the population is not Jewish and nearly 100% (including Jews) use the Gregorian calendar, it is not anti-Semitic or even insensitive to lose track of the Jewish holidays. 

It's just easy to do. 

So perhaps Richard Lewis's mother was right. Maybe that Boy Scout troop was attempting to exclude Jews. But I suspect that it probably had more to do with a lack of awareness of Jewish holidays, a lack of Jewish people in his life, and a calendar that shifts the high holidays around like a game of musical chairs.

So go easy on the non-Jews. Give us the benefit of the doubt. Many of us would love to honor your holidays. It's just impossible to keep track of them. For us, and in some cases, even for you. 

Oh, and we rescheduled my launch party for September 17. 7:00. Barnes & Noble in Blue Back Square in West Hartford. You should come. I'll be telling stories. Giving away prizes. Answering questions. Signing books. And I've got two students reading hilarious bits that they wrote earlier this year. It will be a blast. 

If I can't have actual immortality, this would be an acceptable alternative:

I have issues with my own mortality.

Basically, I'm terrified of death and want to live forever. I think people who accept their eventual mortality with stoicism and logic are insane.  

A student once asked me if I would be willing to watch my family die in order to live forever. I explained that I wouldn't want my friends and family to die, but if immortality meant living beyond their lifetimes, I would willing to accept that.

He looked at me like I was a monster. Then he told me that I was a monster.

While my death terrifies me (and I have more experience with death than most, so perhaps my perspective is a more informed one), equally terrible would be the loss of narrative: a perpetual unawareness of how things in this world ultimately turn out. While I would ideally want to be an active part of this world forever, being able to watch the world would be an  acceptable alternative.

So if full-blown immortality is not available to me, how about this:

A small room, disconnected from the real world, equipped with Diet Coke, ice cream, pizza, the Internet, and a bed. Maybe a carbon monoxide machine in the event that things go bad or I change my mind about living forever. 

I just want to see how the story ends. I want to know what we do and where we go as a race of people. I want to see the story of humanity unfold in all its glory and horror. 

Is that too much to ask?

I expected to annoy a lot of readers, but I wrote it anyway.

Yesterday I wrote about a compliment that a veterinarian paid to me. I added it to a list of compliments that I have on my blog.

I was hesitant to write about the compliment. I waited a long time before deciding to do so. Using your blog to record your own praise is an easy way to make the Internet hate you, and it is the antithesis of my storytelling philosophy, which is to tell the stories that you would least want to tell.

But I wrote about it and posted it anyway, for reasons that I explain in the post, and then I held my breath, waiting for the slings and arrows of readers.

A large number of readers actually responded to the post. I heard from at least three readers who are experiencing or have experienced similar struggles with their pets and expressed appreciation for what I wrote. 

Many more people responded favorably to the idea of maintaining a list of favorite compliments that you can turn to in times of need. They sent me emails, shared the post on Facebook, tweeted it, and generally promoted the hell out of the idea.

I didn't receive a single negative comment. I couldn't believe it. 

Here's the lesson I take from this:

Fortune favors the bold. You cannot allow concerns over the possible reaction of Internet trolls to determine your content. Write the stuff that feels right, and if it doesn't go well, try again tomorrow. 

I lot of people took a lot of good from yesterday's post. I'm thrilled. And it never would've happened had I been cautious or afraid. 

Best compliments of my life, including an addition to the list. You, too, should keep a list.

I maintain a list of the best compliments of my life. It may seem ridiculous and narcissistic, but when I need a pick-me-up, it's always available to me. It's also a means of capturing moments of my life in pristine memory, which too few of us ever do. For many people, one day bleeds into the next, and before you know it, years have passed in relative anonymity. 

This is not the case for me. I write every day, and codified memories like my compliment list help me to remain positive and keep things in perspective at all times. 

I have a friend at work who is annoyed with me for my constant, seemingly worry-free nature. Being able to recall the kindness of others helps.

If all this doesn't make me seem less of a jerk for maintaining a compliment list, I'll also note that I maintain a list of my flaws and shortcomings as well, updated annually.

At least I am balanced.   

Today I add to my compliment list.

My dog, Kaleigh, is my best friend. She has also not been the easiest dog in the world to own.

When she was five years-old, we spent the money that we had saved for our honeymoon (earned via poker) on emergency spinal surgery. She went from likely to die to the probable loss of the use of her legs to a near full recovery. She can't climb stairs anymore and runs less than she once did, but she has been fully mobile and relatively pain-free since the surgery.

Elysha and I spent months sleeping on a mattress on the floor, surrounded by a dog fence so that she wouldn't leap off the mattress, but that's a small price to pay. Right? 

Three years ago Kaleigh contracted canine scabies, which caused the family (including our newborn son) to break out into hives. We thought for a while that we had bedbugs and had every insect expert into our home to search for them. It literally consumed our summer. Eventually the vet identified the problem during a routine checkup (I nearly kissed the man) and we were able to eliminate the problem. I actually contracted canine scabies as well and now have my photo in a medical journal as the only human being known to have contracted canine scabies under his skin.

Kaleigh has a skin condition which causes her to smell like a combination of yeast and wet dog and results in the constant licking of paws and belly. It is better on some days and worse on others, but we have yet to eliminate the problem completely.

 Kaleigh has severe dry eye, requiring me to dump eye drops and expensive ointments into her eyes daily. She also has frequent ear infections, requiring ongoing, daily treatment of those as well.

We have spent tens of thousands of dollars on our dog over the past thirteen years.

During a recent trip to the vet for treatment of an especially bad ear infection, I was describing the almost daily baths that I was giving to Kaleigh in order to improve her skin. He said to me, "I don't think there is another person in the world who wouldn't have put this dog to sleep a long time ago. She's so lucky to have you. She's had the best life she could thanks to you."

I pushed back on the idea. "I'm sure you wouldn't have put her to sleep."

"No," he said. "I think I would've, too. You eventually reach a limit. Financially and time-wise. Seriously, she wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for you."

I've always thought that you could tell a lot about a person by the way they treat their pets. As such, this meant so much to me. 

One of the best compliments I've ever received.

This kid might be too relaxed.

He might need a few chores to darken his days a bit.

Creativity is collaboration. As a storyteller, I stand on the shoulders of real life storytelling ninjas.

Last night I took the stage at the Music Hall in Williamsburg and won another Moth GrandSLAM. 

There are few things more thrilling in my life than having the opportunity to take a Moth stage and tell a story, and Moth audiences are the kindest and most generous audiences in the world. The support and love that you feel while telling a story and after your story is indescribable. 

But here's the thing:

Storytelling, when it's at its best, is never a solo act. The actual performance narrows down to a single person, standing in front of a microphone, telling the story, but the process involved in preparing a story is so much longer and in many ways considerably more difficult than the six or seven minutes spent onstage. 

I wouldn't have come close to winning last night had I not received the advice and feedback of others. As with most creative endeavors, storytelling should be a collaboration. I often think that the best storytellers are the best listeners. They are the storytellers who are willing to listen openly and with humility. They are willing to set aside ego and personal interest in favor of an authentic collaborative process.

Two people contributed to last night's story.

1. My wife, Elysha, who is invaluable to almost all of my stories. She supported the idea for the story (and allowed me to share a very private moment between us with hundreds of people). She analyzed and dissected the story, helping me to find the places to trim, refining my language, contributing laugh lines, and sharpening the focus of the story. She also listened to it about a dozen times, offering feedback after each telling.
2. Jenifer Hixon, Senior Producer at The Moth, who takes the time to listen to every GrandSLAM story and offer feedback. Jenifer's advice turned a story that originally encompassed three days and narrowed it down to a single day. In doing so, she unknowingly punched up the opening of the story and gave me the opportunity to explore the most important moments in much greater details. It was a leap that I could've never made on my own, and it changed the story completely. 

Both of these women made my story better. Their DNA can be found between many of the words that I spoke. 

Similarly, I performed for The Moth earlier this week at a special benefit show, and in preparing that story, two people contributed to that story as well:

1. Moth producer Kirsty Bennett worked with me for weeks, helping to restructure the entire first half of the story (and helping to expand the story so that it included a first half).
2. Moth senior producer Maggie Cino offered two notes at rehearsal that turned out to be two of the funniest moments in the story, including the perfect final line.

My wife also contributed enormously to the original version of the story, which I had told at my first Moth StorySLAM back in 2011, including kicking me in the shin when I tried to chicken out from taking the stage. 

That kick changed my life.

When I took the stage on Thursday night, I felt great because I knew that a team of storytelling geniuses had helped to make my story the best it could be, and I was thrilled with the result.   

When I take the stage to tell a story, as I did last night and earlier this week, I am always standing on the shoulders of brilliant people - usually women - who have carried me to the point that I am ready to perform. They are almost always the type of people who seek to deflect credit whenever possible and remain just outside of the spotlight. 

I have always wished that a story could end with the storyteller crediting those silent, behind-the-scenes storytelling ninjas who have made the story possible. It might not be the right note upon which to end a story, but it feels like the right thing to do. Part of my wishes that at the end of every story, I could simply pause for a moment, allow the applause to die down, and then name the people who were critical to my success. 

Or maybe I could just wear a shirt onstage that reads:

"This story was brought to you in part by my beautiful wife, Elysha, and the brilliant Jenifer Hixon."

Or maybe I could set up a sandwich board beside me onstage that reads:

"Be sure to thank Kirsty Bennett and Maggie Cino if you enjoy my story tonight. It's their story, too."

It's easy to see a single storyteller in a single spotlight and assume that he or she is a solo act. This is rarely the case.

And I think it's easy for people like Elysha and Jenifer and Maggie and Kirsty to think that their contributions were small and less than critical to the story's success.  

This is never the case. I know it, and I am forever grateful to them for all that they have done to help me.

I only wish my audience knew it, too.   

I taught my son to pee on a tree. Is this normal?

I taught my three year-old son to pee on a tree yesterday.

We started potty training him late last week, and remarkably, he's nearly trained already. It took us months to fully train our daughter, Clara, so I feel like the universe is bringing balance to things with Charlie.

We are grateful. 

I took the kids to the park in the late afternoon, and when Charlie told me that he needed to pee, I brought him to a far too conspicuous tree, pointed him in the correct direction, and told him to go. 

He only managed a couple drops before a bug walked by and frightened him (an entirely different problem), but the moment felt like a right of passage of sorts. An important father-son learning experience. 

And yes, it was a little strange to have my daughter was standing beside me, looking on with great interest, but that was okay. I think.

But I couldn't help but wonder: Is this actually a father-son right of passage? Do fathers really teach their sons to do this, or does it eventually just happen out of necessity?

Super model in training

First and last day of kindergarten

Instead of spending money in an unsafe, unfair Why not just manicure and pedicure each other?

I don't get manicures and pedicures. I realize that some men do, but according to an industry study of nail salons in 2013, only 3% of their clients were men.

So in general, men don't get manicures and pedicures. 

Like the wearing of makeup, I think it's kind of crazy that men and women have these identical body parts (fingernails and toenails), yet so many women feel obligated to invest time and money in order to make them pretty and ornate, and men do not.

I suspect that at some point in the future, the majority of people will agree with me regarding the stupidity of this dichotomy. 

I also suspect that they will no longer be painting their fingernails and toenails with any regularity. but perhaps that is just wishful thinking.

My hope is that my daughter does not embrace the manicure-pedicure culture as she grows older and becomes an adult. Avoiding the need to have and maintain pretty nails will save her thousands of dollars and hundreds of hours of the course of her lifetime without any adverse impact on her quality of life.

Yes, a few morons may cast aspersions or think less of her for displaying less than pristine fingernails and toenails, but these are the kind of people who should be living under rocks. Hopefully she'll have enough sense to not give a damn what these people think.  

But if my daughter decides that manicures and pedicures are necessary or desired, here's  a thought:

Rather than spending money in a nail salon, why not find a mani-pedi buddy and simply learn to paint each other's nails?  

The New York Times recently called into question the safety and efficacy of nail salons, detailing the grossly unfair and hazardous working conditions under which nail technicians are forced to work. Why not turn your back on this industry and embrace the DIY model of manicures and pedicures instead? I cannot imagine that the learning curve involved is enormously steep (since the mani-pedi DIY culture is booming), but even if it takes six months or a year or even two years to master the art of fingernail and toenail ornamentation, wouldn't this be better than investing time and money on visits to a salon?

I know that at least a few women will tell me that a visit to a nail salon is an opportunity to relax, but to this, I would say two things:

1. There are other ways to relax that are less expensive, more beneficial to your health and well-being, and do not require you to ingest potentially hazardous fumes while supporting an industry that underpays its employees, many of whom have no leverage to negotiate a fair salary. Instead of paying a person to paint your toenails, you could meditate. Hike. Join a yoga studio. Swim. Read. Watch a movie. Learn to play a musical instrument. Volunteer. Bake. Nap. Have sex. All are far more beneficial than having your toenails painted.   
    
2. Remember: I am proposing that you spend quality time with a friend while practicing a useful and economically beneficial skill. Can't this be just as relaxing? Science tells us that time spent with friends yields far more happiness than time spent with strangers or the amount of money you spend. 

If I were one of the 3% of male clients getting manicures and pedicures regularly, I would call a friend who was also spending time and money in nail salons and propose that we spend an hour a week together, polishing each other's nails and chatting about life. 

Our fingernails and toenails might not look as perfectly ornamented for quite a while, but it's not as if we're conducting surgery on each other. We're painting nails. A little short term imperfection is a fine price to pay for the long term recovery of money and time that my proposal would yield.

Immaturity: A teacher's greatest weapon (according to at least one student)

On the last day of the school year, I receive a lot of cards and letters from students expressing beautiful and hilarious and occasionally insightful messages to me.

This year I received a card from a student that said this:

“I think the reason you’re such a great teacher is that you are basically the child version of yourself. You grew up and got old, but not all the way. You’re like a big, responsible. smart kid. So you still know what it’s like to be a kid.”

I would like to think that I am an effective teacher for reasons that go beyond my possible immaturity, but rarely has someone said something about me (or about the teaching profession) that has rung so true. 

Stop saying that girls are sporty, girls.

When a boy plays sports well, we say that he is athletic. We refer to him as an athlete or a jock.  

We a girl plays sports well, we refer to them as athletes, too, but I also hear them frequently referred to as "sporty." 

I hear my female students refer to themselves and their friends as sporty all the time.

I have never heard a boy refer to himself or another male athlete as sporty. While I am certain that it has happened, I suspect that it's exceedingly rare. 

And while I am quite certain that boys refer to female athletes as sporty, my anecdotal experience is that girls use this word almost exclusively when it comes to athletics and it is foreign to the male lexicon.  

Do an image search on "sporty" on Google and you will find that more than 90% of the images are of females. Many look something like this. 

Let's stop using this word to describe girls who play sports. 

"Sporty" is not a serious word. It's a cute word with definite gender distinctions. In fact, Webster's first two definitions for the word relate to clothing and cars. Only the third and final definition addresses sports.   

If my daughter decides to engage in athletics, refer to her as an athlete or even a jock. Let us not belittle her accomplishments by attaching a moniker that would not be attached to her male counterparts and is used more often than not to describe clothing and cars. 

The next time it rains, don't complain. Do this.

Always calling for Mommy, even though she has ignored him almost every time

My son has been alive for more than 1,000 days. For the last 800 days or so, I have been the one to pluck him from his crib in the morning almost every time without fail. Unless I am out of town or walking the dog at the moment he awakens, which happens rarely, it's me, coming in, picking him up, changing his diaper, and bringing him into our bedroom.   

Yet over the course of these last 800 days, he has never called my name in the morning.

He calls for his mother. Every single time.

Even though I am the one who comes through his door 98% of the time, we still holds out hope for Mommy while simultaneously spurning me. 

It sucks. Just once, I'd like to hear, "Daddy!"