Speak Up Storytelling #70: Live from Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health (Part 1)

On episode #70 of the Speak Up Storytelling podcast, special guest Jeni Bonaldo and I talk storytelling!

This week's episode features the first half of a storytelling show at Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health in Stockbridge, Massachusetts as part of a weekend of storytelling instruction.

Following the stories, Jeni and I discuss each one.

We hope you enjoy!  

LINKS

Purchase Storyworthy: Engage, Teach, Persuade, and Change Your Life Through the Power of Storytelling: https://amzn.to/2H3YNn3

Purchase Twenty-one Truths About Love: https://amzn.to/2qEByex

Homework for Life: https://bit.ly/2f9ZPne

Matthew Dicks's website: http://www.matthewdicks.com

Matthew Dicks's YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/matthewjohndicks

Matthew Dicks's blog: http://www.matthewdicks.com/matthewdicksblog

Subscribe to Matthew Dicks's weekly newsletter: http://www.matthewdicks.com/matthewdicks-subscribe

Subscribe to the Speak Up newsletter: http://www.matthewdicks.com/subscribe-speak-up

Subscribe to Matthew Dicks's blog: http://www.matthewdicks.com/subscribe-grin-and-bare-it

Can starting your day with a smile really change your mood and improve your heath?

I read that smiling when you wake up can be very beneficial. Supposed health benefits include:

  • When you smile your body releases the feel-good neurotransmitters dopamine and endorphins. This means that by smiling first thing when you wake up you’ll be starting your day in a better mood.

  • In addition, when you smile your mood is further lifted by the release of serotonin.

  • Smiling strengthens the immune system, so by smiling first thing in the morning and remembering to do it throughout the day you’ll be warding off disease, specially during flu season.

This is all supposed to happen even if your smile is forced. I’ve written before about how you can trick your brain through biofeedback (including smiling), but I really couldn’t see how a fake smile early in the morning would change anything about my day.

So I tried. Back in July, I ran an experiment. Every morning, while I put on my socks and shoes, I forced a smile. Some days were easier to do this than others, but thanks to the cats, who like to chase my shoelaces as I tie my shoes and are almost always underfoot during this sick and shoe process, it turns out that smiling wasn’t hard. It was almost always initially forced, but the inspiration of the cats often transformed a fake smile into a genuine one.

Did it change my mood? Make me feel better about the coming day?

Maybe.

This, of course is a hard thing to measure. I’m also fairly excited about the beginning of every day. I practically leap out of bed every morning, thrilled to escape the bed, usually without the need for an alarm, sometimes between 4:00 AM and 5:00 AM. On a typical morning, I was feeling pretty good already, but I have to say that forcing a smile on my face, even when completely fake, did seem to make me even happier and more optimistic about the day. It felt lighter and more energetic, and the world seemed a little bit brighter and more hopeful.

Maybe this was simply wish fulfillment taking place, but I began the experiment thinking that the idea that forcing a smile could brighten my day was ridiculous, so I didn’t expect or even want this research to be proven true.

Either way, it seemed to work for me. My forced smile improved my mood and general disposition.

So much so that I’m still doing it. Every day. It’s become a part of my routine.

Did it also strengthen my immune system? That’s also hard to tell, but I’ll say this:

Since I began the experiment back in July, I haven’t been sick once. Of course, July through October are not exactly the months when people often fall ill, so perhaps my relative health is simply the effect of season and not a strong immunity system.

But maybe it’s a little stronger. Who knows?

Either way, I recommend making the forced smile a part of your morning routine. As I always advise people who are trying to create new habits, attach the new habit to another part of your routine that happens every day. For me, it was socks and shoes.

I’m not asking for much. It requires almost no effort. And according to science, and to me, it works.

Start your day with a smile.

Quarry thoughts

I found these declarations of love carved into rock at a quarry in Dorsett, Vermont.

Being a person in a constant state of existential crisis, I couldn’t help but wonder with some degree of desperation, “Does JM still love DB?”

I know that love can be tragically fleeting, and I also know that based upon a date of 1914 carved into the rock nearby, Pam and DG could very well be dead, but still, I found myself standing over this declaration of love, imagining the effort and time required to carve letters into rock, and desperately hoping that JM and DB were still together today, still holding hands somewhere, smiling.

I felt the same when I found the declaration that DG loves Pam, and maybe even more so given that DG took the time to declare his love in a full sentence, practically shouting his affection to the world.

Did Pam and DG return to this quarry again and again in the future, to admire and reminisce over these words? Did JM and DB bring their children to this place in later years to show them these markers of young love?

Or did the love between DG and Pam ultimately fade. Did Pam return to this spot years after her relationship had ended, recalling the days when she and DG sat on the stones in this quarry, feet dangling into the water, talking about their future? Did DB and JM carve these letters into rock and forget about them entirely?

Do any of the human beings who spent time in this quarry, carving reminders of their existence and their love into rock, remember the days spent sitting atop these boulders and swimming in the small pond between them?

Does anyone remember them? Or have these people - like almost all the people who have ever lived - been forgotten by the world forever?

Yes, these are the kinds of thoughts that plaque me. They plagued me on the day that Elysha and I found these letters and words, and they continue to plague me now.

It’s not always easy being me.

I could run a turn on 10:1, and it was unbelievable

Back in the day, I could run a turn on 10:1 by myself.

10:1 is the meat used in a McDonald’s hamburger and cheeseburger, so named because there are ten beef patties to a pound.

To cook a McDonald’s cheeseburger back in the day, you laid up to 12 patties on the grill and seared them to the surface with a searing tool. Then you turned and toasted the top half of the buns. As the buns toasted, you turned back to the grill, where the meat patties were ready to be turned. After turning the meat, you then removed the buns from the toaster and replaced them with the heels of the buns. Then, as the meat cooked on the other side, you dressed the toasted buns with mustard, catsup, onions, pickles, and cheese.

In order to determine how many cheeseburgers versus hamburgers you would make, you shouted to the person up front, who knew better than you what was needed. “Cheese on twelve?” you’d ask, then someone would respond with a number.

You’d complete the process by removing the meat from the grill, placing each patty atop the dressed buns, and then removing the heels from the toaster with a large spatula, and sliding them atop. Then you’d pass the tray of completed burgers forward, where someone in front would wrap them.

This entire process took less than three minutes. It usually required two people but could be done by one skilled person.

But sometimes burgers were needed at a more rapid clip, so a turn was required. When running a turn, you placed a second set of 12 meat patties down after turning the first and began toasting a second set of buns as the set were removed from the toaster.

Essentially, you completed the same process twice in the same amount of time.

A turn always required two people and often three. One person managed the grill. Another toasted buns. A third dressed the buns and communicated with the employees up front.

But I could run a turn on 10:1 on my own. Solo. I was the only person able to do this, making me exceptionally valuable in the restaurant. Even though I began my career as a counter and drive thru person, I eventually found myself during the busiest times of day flipping burgers in the back because I was so cost-effective in terms of labor. It was so extraordinary that managers from other stores would visit our restaurant to witness my feat and attempt to reproduce it on their own stores with no success, and when I was sent to other stores to work, people would watch in awe as I cooked.

It wasn’t that I was a superhero or especially skilled. I simply had the ability to automatize the process so fully that I never stopped moving and managed to eliminated every single unnecessary step. I was able to work quickly and efficiently with exceptional focus and without pause for lengthy periods of time without distraction.

I also wanted to be great, and this was probably the most important part. Even though it was only McDonald’s, I saw an opportunity to do something that no one else had done, so I did it.

I was named Manager of the Year for three consecutive years in my region, from the ages of 18 through 20 (including my senior year in high school), but the award I treasured more was a pin that my boss had made for me that simply read, “Best Grill Man Ever.”

About a year later, the McDonald’s grill was redesigned. Microwave ovens were installed, grills were converted into automated monstrosities that could cook both sides of a burger simultaneously, and meat was pre-cooked and held in warmers.

The premium on speed and efficiency was gone, and with it, my ability to run a turn on 10:1 was obliterated.

It’s weird to have been the best at something - perhaps one of the best ever - only to have that thing eliminated from the world entirely. Nowadays, the phrase “running a turn on 10:1” is probably unknown or forgotten by almost every human being on the planet.

A Google search on the term results in nothing.

For a brief sliver of time, I was able to do something that no one else in my corner of the world could do. My skills were prized and admired, even by the employees who didn’t work in the kitchen.

Then it all went away and was forgotten.

Except it’s not forgotten because every now and again, I find myself running a turn on 10:1 in my dreams, which I did last night. It may not seem like the best way to spend a night of rest, but I kind of love those dreams of a time when something as simple as cooking burgers quickly could be mastered at a high level.

Trump ruins everything

As Elysha so rightly pointed out, Donald Trump find a way to ruin a lot of things, including some unintentionally. This placemat of the President of the United States is an excellent example.

We spotted it in a gift shop in Vermont at the ancestral home of Robert Todd Lincoln. We though it would be nice to have the kids learn about the Presidents while they eat their breakfast, but unfortunately Trump is on the placement, making it the last thing either one of my children would ever want to see while eating.

In fairness, there are also Presidents like Nixon and Jackson on the placement, too, but we weren’t forced to live through their racism, brutality, criminality, and corruption, so they are slightly more palatable.

I’m also fairly certain that although Nixon and Jackson (and perhaps others were not good men, neither of them betrayed our country by conspiring with a foreign power, nor were they stupid, inarticulate men, which elevates them over the current President by at least a few measures.

Direct but funny is the perfect combination

I spotted this sign at the wedding of my former student a couple weeks ago, sitting atop the bar.

I love it so much. Designed by the same couple who advised guests in their wedding invitation to respond by a certain date or plan to bring a chair and a sandwich, this is the perfect demonstration of sending a message in a way that is both creative, amusing, and direct.

They sent a clear message to their guests while also providing the guests who didn’t need this reminder with a bit of amusement.

Brilliant.

It’s also the signal of a couple who isn’t taking their wedding day too seriously. These are people who want to have fun on their big day.

I also love the design of the sign, the choices of fonts, and of course the use of the word “shenanigans.”

We really should use that word more often.

I feel the same way about the words rumpus, obstreperous, caterwaul, bacchanalian, ballyhoo, opprobrium, and higgledy-piggledy.

I could go on.

Speak Up Storytelling #69: Marko Ivanov

On episode #69 of the Speak Up Storytelling podcast, Elysha Dicks and I talk storytelling!

In our follow up segment, we discuss my recent forays to Moth StorySLAM in New York and Boston. We also acknowledge several listeners, and Elysha and I make a bet that is soon resolved, much to the despair of the losing side.  

In our Homework for Life segment, I talk about a moment that happened minutes before the podcast was recorded, and we discuss the inherent dangers of telling a story that is too self-congratulatory. I also discuss the strategy of bookending a moment as a means of structuring a story.

Next we listen to a story by Marko Ivanov.

Amongst the many things we discuss include:

  1. The importance of the first minute of a story, and the need for a specific setting in order to fully activate imagination 

  2. Conveying historical events and political information by framing it through the lens of the storyteller, considering the storyteller's age and life experience when deciding what to say and how to say it

  3. The power of simple descriptors when chosen carefully

  4. Ending a story in a place that leaves the audience hanging

  5. The C-A-B-C structure to a story, and what this specific structure requires in order to be successful

RECOMMEDATIONS

Elysha:

Matt:

LINKS

Purchase Storyworthy: Engage, Teach, Persuade, and Change Your Life Through the Power of Storytelling

Purchase Twenty-one Truths About Love 

Homework for Life: https://bit.ly/2f9ZPne

Matthew Dicks's website: http://www.matthewdicks.com

Matthew Dicks's YouTube channel:
https://www.youtube.com/matthewjohndicks 

Matthew Dicks's blog:
http://www.matthewdicks.com/matthewdicksblog

Subscribe to Matthew Dicks's weekly newsletter: 
http://www.matthewdicks.com/matthewdicks-subscribe

Subscribe to the Speak Up newsletter: 
http://www.matthewdicks.com/subscribe-speak-up

Subscribe to Matthew Dicks's blog:
http://www.matthewdicks.com/subscribe-grin-and-bare-it

Trump in food

My friend’s daughter - not a fan on Donald Trump - created his image in this clever bit of food sculpture.

Remarkable. Right? It really does look like him.

It’s not, of course, a bigoted, grifting liar who brags about sexual assault, separates families and cages small children on the border, defends Nazis, enriches itself with taxpayer money, and undermines our very democracy by conspiring with foreign governments to damage its political opponents.

I don’t think carrots even have political opponents.

In addition, I don’t think this carrot has operated fake university designed to steal money from hardworking Americans (and settled a multi-million dollar lawsuit to its victims), nor has it operated a fake charity and used the money to purchase things like portraits of itself and, as a result, been banned from sitting on the board of any charity in the future because of this unlawful use of funds.

I’m not sure if carrots even know what a charitable organization is.

But I bet this carrot’s intellect is limited, and its ability to speak and write in coherent, grammatically correct sentences is questionable at best, so it may be more similar to Donald Trump than simply physical appearance.

That’s a long way for pizza

After visiting Gillette Castle in East Haddam, CT, the family piled into the car to head over to the neighboring town of Chester, CT for dinner at Otto’s Pizza.

It’s such a glorious thing in today’s world:

Receive a recommendation from a friend for a restaurant one town away and simply enter the name of that establishment into your phone for accurate, turn-by-turn directions.

There was a time - not so long ago - when directions were remembered or hand-written, and life was slightly more complex. Someone like me - with an excellent sense of direction, a constant awareness my cardinal direction, and the ability to find my way through a city using the sun and other landmarks - were prized for our ability to navigate this world without the information that so many required.

Given Elysha’s absence of a sense of direction - she got lost exiting two restaurants this weekend - I think she may have married me solely for my ability to navigate.

But now, with the advent of technology, my skills have been replaced by the phone. Oddly enough, my children will never know what it’s like to be lost, to pull over and ask for directions, or to struggle to find a road that they recognize or a highway that seems familiar. Nor will they feel the self-satisfaction in knowing that you were once lost but now - thanks solely to your wit and wisdom - are now found.

Simply turn on the phone and listen to some human-sounding voice guide you to your destination.

Unless, of course, you are trying to find Otto’s Pizza in Chester, CT. When I entered the name of this particular restaurant into Waze, my options included pizza places in Maine, California, El Salvador, Columbia, and the UK.

Not exactly sure how Waze was even going to provide directions to the UK. Even El Salvador and Columbia seemed unlikely.

Happily, it turned out that Otto’s Pizza in Chester, CT was less than two miles away, and a quick Internet search yielded an address less than 5 minutes away. And our friends were right. The pizza was quite good.

And considering how hungry everyone was, we thankfully did not need to cross continents in order to eat it.

Unexpected benefits of teaching

The biggest surprise of my teaching career:

Many of my students would remain in my life long after they had left my classroom.

Some have become longterm babysitters for my children. Some have stayed in touch via email and social media. Some continue to share their writing with me on a regular basis.

Some have become my honest-to-goodness friends.

Two weekends ago, I officiated the wedding of one of my first students - a little second grader in 1999 who has turned into brilliant young woman. It was an incredible honor to stand alongside her as she married the man who she loved.

it was also unforgettable. Never before have I seen a couple so relaxed and silly and joyful in the midst of their wedding ceremony, and after 22 years as a wedding DJ and 15 years of officiating weddings, I’ve seen a lot of ceremonies.

This one was the best.

Attending the wedding were several former students from my school, including some of my own former students. Strangely enough, they are now the same age that I was when I was teaching them.

All grown up now, they have both changed so much and also not changed a bit. We had a great time relaxing and chatting and dancing the night away.

Never could I have imagined such a thing when I first stepped into my classroom in 1999.

There are many, many benefits to becoming a school teacher, but the one I never expected was the lifelong relationships I would forge with some of my students.

How very lucky I am.

Vermont getaway

I write these words from the sitting room of a beautiful bed and breakfast in the town of Dorsett, Vermont.

Three days ago, I told Elysha that I was surprising her with a weekend getaway to an undisclosed location. “Pack a bag for the weekend. We’re heading north.”

It’s been a glorious three days, thanks in large part to our friends, Kathy and Eddie, who are entertaining our children while we are away, and especially Kathy, who also recommended this particular location and helped make it happen.

This is just the second time in ten years that Elysha and I have gotten away alone. We traveled to Kennebunkport, Maine, three years ago to celebrate our tenth anniversary together, but I had pneumonia during our trip - a fact that I concealed from Elysha until we returned home- so that trip was a little more challenging for me.

This one has been splendid. We’ve met remarkably kind and interesting people and seen remarkable things. We visited Hildene, the former home of Robert Todd Lincoln and the Lincoln ancestors, with its stunning views and fascinating history. We drove to the summit Mount Equinox to take in the views of four states from the top. We’ve visited little shops, spectacular restaurants, and our old friends at Northshire Bookstore. We’ve dined on the sweetness of maple candy and watched the Yankees less-than-sweet loss to the Houston Astros, thus ending their season.

There were a few other bumps along the road, including:

  • After dinner last night, we drove around, searching for something called the Festival of Darkness and failed to find it. Perhaps that was a lucky thing.

  • We stopped by a goat farm that really didn’t deserve a single moment of our time. Why would anyone think that watching goats be goats could be entertaining?

  • We listened to an exceptionally loud server on the other side of a restaurant talk about putting her dog to sleep. She’s retiring tomorrow after a multi-decade career - a fact we also leaned thanks to her volume - so in this case, our timing was off by a couple of days.

  • I walked in on one of the other house guest while she was sitting on the toilet, because that is what I do.

Mostly Elysha and I have held hands and enjoyed the foliage of Vermont while thinking about our kids.

It's real. And appalling.

In case you missed it, this is the letter that Donald Trump sent to Turkey President Erdogan urging him not to attack our Kurdish allies after announcing that he was pulling our troops out of Syria.

He made this announcement without consulting or even warning the US military, the US Congress, or our NATO allies. He also did so without any actual plans for evacuation, placing our troops in harm’s way and requiring our soldiers to blow up millions of dollars in military hardware as they retreated.

It’s a real letter, I promise you. I was absolutely certain that it was a hoax, but the White House has confirmed its authenticity.

Erdogan launched his attack and began slaughtering our longtime Kurdish allies the very next day.

Speak Up Storytelling #67: Bobby Klau

On episode #68 of the Speak Up Storytelling podcast, Matthew and Elysha Dicks talk storytelling!

In our follow up segment, we discuss last week's episode and plans for an upcoming episode. We also discuss a recent review of the podcast and decisions related to the use of profanity in storytelling. Elysha also congratulates listeners for their recent ukulele playing,. 

In our Homework for Life segment, we talk about a strategy to find hidden stories in your life via seemingly microscopic moments, and an especially useful strategy to use if you're trying to find a story to match a theme

Next we listen to a story by Bobby Klau.

Amongst the many things we discuss include:

  1. Humor in storytelling through word choice, tonality, and misdirection

  2. Scene setting and re-establishing

  3. Singing as a part of storytelling

  4. The crucial "but" at the beginning of stories

  5. Rounding out stories and indicating the importance of every word of the story by bringing early elements into later parts of a story 

RECOMMEDATIONS

Elysha:

Matt:

  • Nicholson Baker

Text from The Anthologist

"And then a man of forty or so, with a French accent, asked, 'How do you achieve the presence of mind to initiate the writing of a poem?'

And something cracked open in me, and I finally stopped hoarding and told them my most useful secret.

The only secret that has helped me consistently over all the years that I've written.

I said, 'Well, I'll tell you how. I ask a simple question. I ask myself: What was the very best moment of your day?'

The wonder of it was, I told them, that this one question could lift out from my life exactly what I will want to write a poem about.

Something I hadn't known was important will leap out and hover there in front of me, saying I AM—I am the best moment of the day.

'Often,' I went on, 'it's a moment when you're waiting for someone, or you're driving somewhere, or maybe you're just walking across a parking lot and admiring the oil stains and the dribbled tar patterns.

One time it was when I was driving past a certain house that was screaming with sunlitness on its white clapboards, and then I plunged through tree shadows that splashed and splayed across the windshield.

I thought, Ah, of course—I'd forgotten.

You, windshield shadows, you are the best moment of the day."

~ Nicholson Baker, from The Anthologist

LINKS

Purchase Storyworthy: Engage, Teach, Persuade, and Change Your Life Through the Power of Storytelling

Purchase Twenty-one Truths About Love 

Homework for Life: https://bit.ly/2f9ZPne

Matthew Dicks's website: http://www.matthewdicks.com

Matthew Dicks's YouTube channel:
https://www.youtube.com/matthewjohndicks 

Matthew Dicks's blog:
http://www.matthewdicks.com/matthewdicksblog

Subscribe to Matthew Dicks's weekly newsletter: 
http://www.matthewdicks.com/matthewdicks-subscribe

Subscribe to the Speak Up newsletter: 
http://www.matthewdicks.com/subscribe-speak-up

Subscribe to Matthew Dicks's blog:
http://www.matthewdicks.com/subscribe-grin-and-bare-it

My postage stamp mia culpa

Yesterday I shared a series of text messages between my wife and me that did not go well. While standing in the post office, I watched a woman spend five minutes examining all of the possible postage stamps, hemming and hawing, before choosing the one that she liked. As I watched this happen, I sent a text message to my wife declaring that all people who engage in this behavior insane.

She responded a moment later, informing me that she engaged in this very same behavior on a regular basis.

“That’s me,” she wrote. “I love pretty stamps.”

As this post was disseminated on my blog and social media, the response was almost immediate.

Lots and lots of people engage in this behavior, and all came running to Elysha’s defense. Apparently there is an enormous number of people who want to put pretty stickers on envelopes before sending those envelopes away forever.

I was shocked.

While I would like to officially retract the accusation of insanity, I’d also like to take a moment to explain my faulty rationale. It comes down to one simple belief:

I couldn’t imagine anyone of sound mind wasting a precious second choosing a stamp that will eventually be ignored or forgotten.

In short, I can’t imagine not making almost all decisions based upon the preservation of time.

And yes, I understand that it’s requires an exceptionally short period of time to choose a stamp. I also understand that these stamps often represent works of art. I even understand that the stamp you place upon a letter might even say something about you, but in almost all things - but especially in all chores, tasks, errands, and the life - I always default to the fastest, most efficient method of completion.

It’s why I shop for groceries while almost running through the aisles. It’s why I have experimented to determine the fastest way to empty a dishwasher. It’s why I try to keep my showers under 100 seconds by counting while washing. It’s why most of my clothing decisions have defaulted to set “uniforms” for each part of my daily life. It’s why I live my life by routines that allow for the least number of wasted steps and lost time.

When it came to purchasing stamps, I simply could not imagine spending one second longer in the post office that what was necessary.

I understand that not everyone focuses on the preservation of time like me. I also understand that people value things differently than me. I also understand that running through a grocery store or timing the emptying of a dishwasher or wearing the same thing on stage every night might seem a little crazy, but I think of time as my most precious commodity, and I want to spend as much of it as possible with the people I love and the work that I adore.

This means that I’ll take those flag stamps if it means I can arrive home two minutes earlier and therefore spend two extra minutes with Elysha or the kids or the cats.

I’m not saying that I’m right in this approach. After all, I’m a guy who takes cold showers that are less than 100 seconds long. I choose the shirt that I’ll be wearing for work based upon whichever shirt has migrated to the top of the pile. I try to take the inside lane while walking in hallways and cut corners as often as possible, knowing that doing so might save me a few seconds on my trip.

Perhaps I am the one suffering from insanity, which is why I once again retract my previous statement. If the pretty stamp that you affix to your water bill or perfunctory thank you note makes you happy, who am I to cast aspersions?

A crazy person. That’s who.

I sometimes use different words based upon the day

Something I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone:

Sometimes my choice of words is dependent upon the day.

A few days ago I wrote about Harvard’s unconscionable policy of admitting applicants based upon legacy and parental donations, when a great number of those students would not have otherwise been admitted to the university. I suggested that we consider this policy when assessing the accomplishments of a Harvard grad and mentally discount their achievement based upon this system of graft and preferential treatment existing at the school.

I went on to say that you should probably discount my own accomplishments, too, given that I hit the genetic lottery by being born as a white, straight, relatively intelligent, healthy American man.

Take away any one of those things, and my life is much more challenging.

I had all the advantages a person could ever want. My status has allowed me to avoid discrimination, sexism. and the struggles associated with longterm illness and addiction. And I was born in America. There are many, many places on this planet where I could not have pursued my drams like I have in this country.

Then I wrote this sentence:

In fact, if you’re a white straight man living in America who is relatively intelligent, healthy, and not battling addiction and you can’t find a way to earn a living in this world, you have no one to blame but yourself.

Then I deleted the sentence. I deleted it because I recognized its possible incendiary quality. I could easily envision someone reading this and taking great offense. Either they matched the characteristics that I listed and were still struggling to earn a living, or they had had a child - all grown up - who matched the characteristics and was still living at home, unable to find work.

I pictured struggling writers and painters and pie-in-the-sky entrepreneurs whose lifelong dreams were not panning out. I pictured a mother who was still supporting her son as he tried to carve a spot in the cutthroat world of competitive video game playing. I envisioned myself explaining to these painters and writers and entrepreneurs that chasing your dream is wonderful, but that most creative people either starve without complaint or get a job to feed themselves whilst they paint or sculpt or write or invent.

Telling straight, white American men that they are losers if they can’t earn a living could be provocative, and although I love to be provocative, I was writing that post on Saturday, the day that I was officiating the wedding of my former student.

I didn’t want to deal with a potentially angry online mob on that blessed, beautiful day, so I removed the sentence.

I’ve done this before - rarely - but the particular day ahead of me will sometimes dictate how far I will push an idea. I’ve also had days when I’ve itching for a fight or know that I will be home sick with lots of time on my hands, and on those days, I will push extra hard.

I try to poke the bear.

So as disingenuous as it may sound, I have been known to temper an argument for the sake of peace on a given day, and I’ve also been known to sharpen an argument on those days when I’m looking forward to some online confrontation.

I think of it as self care. I don’t betray my argument or idea, but I simply shape it based upon what I’m able and willing to deal with on any given day.

So if you’re upset with my assertions about white,. straight, healthy American men, today is the day to fire away. I’m home from work in honor of Indigenous People’s Day. Plenty of time to do battle if necessary.

Mean things spoken about my body

People have been very mean to me this week.

Early in the week, I went for a physical therapy evaluation. The woman evaluating my shoulders said, “You have extremely large shoulder bones.”

“Oh,” I said, admittedly surprised. Somehow I’d managed to make it through more than four decades of life without ever having been told about my extremely large shoulder bones.

“Is that good?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “It’s terrible. It makes for all kinds of problems.”

Great. I have bad shoulders.

Three days later, I was purchasing a new shirt. A man at the store had taken my measurements, but as the saleswoman scanned them, she said, “Come here. I need to check your neck.”

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

“He wrote down that you have an 19-inch neck, but that makes no sense.”

“Why?” I asked as she wrapped the tape measure around my neck.

“Someone with your height and arm length can’t have a 19-inch neck.”

Then she measured.

“Oh,” she said.

“Was he right?” I asked.

She looked confused. “It’s not quite 19 inches, but it’s close.”

“Is that okay?” I asked.

“I’m not sure if I’ll be able to find you as shirt with a 19-inch neck that matches your sleeve length. Your size doesn’t make any sense. You’ll probably have to wear an 18-inch neck for the wedding and I can special order you a shirt for the future.”

Great. My size doesn’t make any sense.

These comments go along well with comments made by my friends in the past, including:

“You have arms like legs and legs like people.”

“You’re a neckless stump with legs for arms.”

“You’re built like a tiny T-Rex.”

Happily, none of these comments were made by Elysha.

Yoda is kind of a jerk

Yoda from Star Wars once famously told Luke Skywalker, “Do. Or do not. There is no try.”

I think that there are times when this is absolutely true. Whenever your ability to do something is based simply upon your willingness to do it or not, Yoda is right.

“Do. Or do not. There is no try.”

I’ll try to do my homework
I’ll try to be on time.
I’ll try to keep my room clean.
I’ll try to be more patient with my mother-in-law.
I’ll try not to drink too much at the football game.

Yes, in each of these instances, I agree with Yoda. “Do. Or do not. There is no try.”

But there are also times in our lives when all you can do is try. Take, for example, lifting a spaceship out of a swamp with your mind. Something you’ve never done before and never seen done. This is what Luke Skywalker was attempting when Yoda uttered this famous phrase.

What a jerk.

A farm boy from a desert planet who had never even heard about the Force until a year or two earlier finds himself on an alien swamp planet, being asked by a talking frog to lift a spaceship out of the swamp using only his thoughts.

No, Yoda. This is most definitely an “I’ll try” situation. Admittedly, Luke’s assertion that he would try wasn’t very convincing, but even so, lifting a spaceship from a swamp with your mind for the first time is most assuredly an “I’ll try” moment.

Much like:

I’ll try to hit a home run.
I’ll try to answer all of the math equations correctly.
I’ll try to make that girl fall in love with me.
I’ll try to make a tuna avocado melt that tastes good.
I’ll try to write a blog post without a typo.

There are moments in our lives when “Do. Or do not. There is no try,” is nonsense.

Kind of like the time when Yoda failed to defeat the Emperor in a light saber battle and end the threat of the Empire forever.

What happened in that situation, Yoda? Did you choose, “Do not end the threat of the Empire?” “Do not spare the lives of millions of innocent life forms?” “Do not save your Jedi friend?”

No, Yoda. You tried. And failed. Your own words.

So spare us the “Do. Or do not. There is no try” nonsense. It’s the kind of thing an arrogant jackass would say.