A sink?

It took me way too long to solve this crossword puzzle because of the ridiculous clue for 1-across:

“A place to put dishes”

Thie sink?

Dishes are not “put” in the sink.

Dishes can be washed in a sink. Rinsed in a sink. Even scrubbed in a sink.

But “put” in a sink? No. Only savages put dishes in sinks.

Dishes are put in dishwashers. Drying racks. Cabinets. Cupboards. If they are made of paper, dishes can even be placed in the garbage can.

But the sink?

Putting a dirty dish in a sink is an act of madness. A declaration that filth is perfectly acceptable if temporarily placed within a stainless steel or composite shell. As if the promise of future scrubbing somehow mitigates the savagery of leaving a soiled dish just sitting in the same room where you prepare food and eat.

Wash the dish, damn it. We are not living in end times.

I entered “rack” for 1-across and spent the majority of the time on this puzzle trying to imagine where else a dish might be reasonable put before finally realizing what the puzzle-maker was thinking.

The sink? A place to put your dishes?

This crossword was clearly designed by a savage.

The show was good, but the restroom was amazing.

The line for the woman’s restroom was so long that it was wrapped around itself in spirals in the lower level of the Broadhurst Theater last night.

At least 100 women waiting for a single restroom.

With ten minutes before showtime, there was no way Elysha, who was at the end of the line, was going to be seated in time for the opening number.

We briefly considered sending her into the men’s room, where one woman was already sheepishly waiting for one of the two stalls. “I might just do that,” Elysha said doubtfully. “Go to your seat. I’ll meet you.”

I headed up the stairs, frustrated. This was Elysha’s Christmas gift. Front row center on the mezzanine level for Jagged Little Pill, the acclaimed musical based upon the Alanis Morissette album of the same name. Now she would miss at least the first 10 minutes while waiting for the restroom.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I spotted an usher organizing playbills on a small table. “Excuse me,” I said. “My wife won’t be able to navigate those stairs. Is there another restroom she could use on this level?”

“Of course,” the usher said and pointed to a single-use restroom designed to accommodate people with disabilities at the top of the stairs. I had walked right by it, just like every other person.

I tested the door. Unlocked. Empty. Huzzah.

Was it specifically designated for someone with a disability?

Yes.

But was it available to anyone without a disability if no person with a disability was waiting?

I think so.

I shot back downstairs. “Elysha!” I shouted. “Come with me!”

“Does he know something?” asked the woman in line behind Elysha who she had already befriended.

“He seems to know something,” she said.

Elysha exited the line, still dozens of women away from the restroom, followed closely by her new friend. As she made it to the top of the stairs, I opened the door to the empty restroom. Her eyes widened. She smiled and entered.

Her new friend took a spot on the wall beside me and fist-bumped me.

“Best husband ever,” she whispered.

A moment later, Elysha exited the restroom. I said goodbye to her new friend as she entered the restroom, and we headed for the mezzanine.

“I’ve never loved you more than I do right now,” Elysha said, which felt amazing at the time, but as I write this now, I can’t help but think…

My surprise marriage proposal at the steps of Grand Central?

Our wedding ceremony?

The birth of our children?

Our honeymoon?

All those times I navigated complex cities in the pre-GPS era without ever getting lost?

I’m kidding. I know what she meant.

But it’s a good reminder:

Saving your spouse with a little bit of quick thinking is a simple path directly to their heart.

Happily, we were seated in plenty of time. Best seats for a Broadway show ever.

Jagged Little Pill is good. Even very good at times. Not great, though. Too many ideas jammed into one show, plus three scenes that fall dreadfully flat.

I’m available for notes if the producers would like to listen. Seriously.

But the show also has one of the most thrilling musical moments in all of Broadway history for me. Truly unforgettable.

Also, I was sitting beside beautiful Elysha for every moment of the show. Beginning to end.

That’s all that really mattered.

Happy birthday to me.

Yesterday was my birthday, and it was pretty great.

Our living room furniture finally arrived, so after more than a month of not watching a single thing on our brand new television, Elysha and I finally sat down on our brand new couch last night and watched a movie.

Deadpool 2.

It was just as brilliant as the first. My favorite superhero film of all time.

I’ve never seen a film break the third and fourth wall.

Nor did I even know that there was a fourth wall to break.

I also enjoyed dinner with the family at my favorite restaurant, The Corner Pug. I visited the gym, the grocery store, and Goodwill, all before 9:00 AM, which made me feel exceptionally productive. Our windows were measured for next month’s replacement. I wrestled with Charlie and danced with Clara. We ate ice cream cake that Kay, the Carvel employee, gave to me as a gift.

We’re very loyal customers.

And I received some spectacular cards from Elysha and the kids, a Dunder-Mifflin hat that I love more than you could know, and the gift of an overnight stay at the Mystic Aquarium next month with the family.

Perfection.

On the not-so-perfect side, I also managed to knock out the internet while moving the hardware into our new cabinet and never managed to restore it, so I’m writing this using the internet at my favorite McDonald’s restaurant. It cost me about two hours of attempted repairs before I finally threw in the towel and called it quits.

A small hiccup in my birthday perfection.

Birthdays can also be tough given that my mom passed away 13 years ago. Perhaps it’s just me, but there is a real difference between celebrating your birth while your mother is still alive and celebrating it after she has passed away.

Not having a relationship with my father probably makes this even more problematic, I suspect.

More than forty years ago, my mom and I began a journey together. Now she has stepped off the path, leaving me to finish this journey alone.

Not that I plan on finishing. I plan on living forever, of course. My recent cardiac calcium score was a zero, which is remarkable, so unless a bus clobbers me or I fall into a sudden sink hole, I’ll be here until the sun explodes, but still, you know what I mean.

There was something about having my mother here on my birthday that made it feel like a celebration of our day. The day we met for the first time. Something that only the two of us could share.

One of the most important days in both of our lives, started together and shared together.

Now it’s only my day. I can celebrate today with family ands friends, but I have no one left standing to remember and celebrate that specific day in 1971 when I was first born.

No one who remembers that moment when I first appeared in this world.

The mother who gave birth to me more forty years ago is no longer with me, making birthdays feel a little more empty and a little less worthy of celebration.

Happily, I’ve got Elysha, Clara, and Charlie to push away those dark clouds and fill the day with happiness and celebration, which they did with beautiful smiles, lots of laughter, and gobs of love.

I’m so very lucky to be me.

My favorite names (and my thoughts on name changes)

I love good names.

Perhaps this is because my last name is Dicks.

Perhaps it’s because I had an uncle and great-uncle named Harry Dicks.

Perhaps it’s because my father’s name is Leslie Jean Dicks, but he goes by the name Les Dicks.

Surrounded by a series of challenging names, I am drawn to outstanding names.

I’m also violently repelled by names that have been intentionally changed. Folks who abandon their less-than-ideal names for something much better.

Vin Diesel, for example, was once Marc Sinclair.
Whoopi Goldberg was once Karyn Johnson.
Ice Cube was once O’Shea Jackson, which I think is a legitimately great name.

I don’t like any of this. Growing up, I knew a guy who changed his last name simply because he didn’t like his original last name.

I hated that guy.

He also shoved me down a flight of stairs, separating my shoulder (and caught on tape), leading to a lifetime of shoulder issues, but honestly, I hate him more for his name change than the assault.

This hatred, however, does not apply to all names changes. It all depends on the rationale.

Michael Keaton, for example, was once Michael Douglas, but knowing that there was already a Michael Douglas in Hollywood, he changed his name to avoid confusion.

Makes sense.

Tina Fey is really Elizabeth Stamatina Fey, but she uses a shortened version of her middle name, which is close enough to her real name for my standards. Similarly, Antonio Banderas is really José Antonio Banderas, but he uses his middle name as his first name.

Fine in my book.

Natalie Portman was once Natalie Hershlag, but in order to protect her privacy as a child actor, she adopted her grandmother’s maiden name.

This seems reasonable to me.

Jaime Foxx was once Eric Marlon Bishop. Early in his stand up career, he noticed that female comics were regularly getting stage time and he was not (since there were decidedly fewer female comics), so he changed his name to something gender non-specific (and adopted Foxx in honor of Red Fox) in order to hide his gender. Suddenly clubs began booking him, thinking he was a woman. Once onstage, he proved his merit, and the rest is history.

I’m not in love with this name change, but I can live with it. Woman, of course, have been doing this for centuries. George Elliot was really Mary Ann Evans. The Brontë sisters, Charlotte, Emily and Anne, first published their works under the male pseudonyms of Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell. Joanne Rowling used the initials JK even though she had no middle name.

The K is invented.

All of this was done because sexist readers disregard the work of female writers.

I’m fine with all of these changes.

Children’s author Avi used this pen name because his parents castigated his decision to pursue a writing career, telling him he’d never make a dime in publishing.

When his first book was published, he didn’t want his parent’s surname to appear on the book, so he changed his name to the singular Avi.

Spite. The best reason to change your name.

One of my favorite examples of a name change is the Sheen- Estevez family. Martin and Charlie Sheen changed their name to something that they assumed was more palatable, but their son and brother Emilio dd not, and Emilio’s career was not harmed by the lack of a name change.

All three have enjoyed successful acting careers.

One point for Emilio.
Negative ten thousand points for Martin and Charlie.

I realize that this rejection of name changes is terribly judgmental on my part. People should be able to do whatever they would like with their names, but by the same token, I should be able to think poorly of whoever I want, too.

So I do. It’s likely born from my lifetime struggle and subsequent embrace of my name. It wasn’t easy growing up with the last name Dicks, but it taught me to punch hard and make fun of myself before someone else could.

I’m a lot tougher today because of my struggle.

Charlie Sheen? Vin Diesel?

Probably a couple of thin-skinned wimps.

For the record, my current favorite names for a man and woman are:

Armie Hammer, an actor whose full name is Armand Hammer but has been called Armie ever since he was a little boy.

Armie Hammer is a killer name.

On the woman’s side, it’s Picabo Street, the alpine skier.

Her name has a fascinating story. Picabo was born to hippie parents who decided to allow Picabo to choose her own name when she was old enough, so she spent the first two years of her life being called “Baby Girl” But when the family decided to travel to Central America, a passport and name was required, so her parents named her Picabo, which was the Native American name for the region in which they lived and the neighboring town.

When Picabo was four years-old, she was given the option to change her name, but she declined.

Thus Picabo Street, my favorite female name, was born.

Winners Take All

It’ll take you all of four minutes to watch this.

It will be time very well spent.

Storyteller, yes, but teacher first

Congratulations to Devan Sandiford, Speak Up storyteller who just won his first Moth StorySLAM last week. Devan is my 20th storytelling student to win a Moth StorySLAM or GrandSLAM.

As a teacher, I couldn’t be more excited for him or the 19 other students who came before him to win a slam:

Teachers, retirees, a real estate agent, a dairy farmer, two college professors, at least two attorneys, a fast food worker, a handful of college students, one high school student, and many others.

As Devan so kindly pointed out to me, this number does not include the many people who have written to me about their success on various stages around the world (including The Moth) after reading my book, Storyworthy, and listening to our podcast, Speak Up Storytelling, to help them find and craft their stories.

If I was to include all of those winners from around the country, the number would be much higher.

I’ve also helped many friends and at least of my former elementary school students find the courage to take the stage and tell stories for The Moth. They haven’t all won a slam yet, but all have found enormous satisfaction in sharing their story with a Moth audience.

The number of folks who I’ve convinced to take a Speak Up stage is even larger. Just last week, a colleague finally took the stage and told her incredible story of immigrating to the United States and becoming a school teacher.

It took me four years to convince her, but I didn’t give up. I play the long game, and eventually, I broke through.

She was magnificent.

There have also been at least five storytelling shows launched around the world as a result of Speak Up, including one in Australia. New stages for new folks to tell their stories.

I’m a writer and a storyteller and many other things, but I am first and foremost a teacher, so seeing my students succeed is one of the most gratifying things in my life.

It’s admittedly slightly less gratifying when one of my students beats me in a StorySLAM or GrandSLAM, which has now happened six times in my life.

It’s even less gratifying when one of my students beats me with a story that I have helped them to craft, which has happened twice, but even in those instances, I’m still happy for the storyteller.

Eventually.

I know full well the excitement of performing well and being acknowledged as one of the best.

The ability to tell a great story is a super power, but unlike Superman or Wonder Woman, this is a super power than can be acquired through hard work and practice. You need not be born on a distant planet or some secret island Amazonian island in order to gain your power.

But the results are the same:

You will be able to to do something that most people cannot, and it will change your life in so many ways.

The world is a better place when people are empowered to find and tell their best stories. I am honored to have played a tiny role in helping this happen.

All of this is a long-winded way of suggesting that you should tell a story, on a Moth or Speak Up stage, or maybe get your start in the lunchroom at work or at the dinner table with your spouse and children.

The location doesn’t matter all that much. Just start telling stories.

Also, since I started writing this post a few days ago, another student has won a Moth StorySLAM in Boston.

Twenty-one and counting.

You could be next.

Speak Up Storytelling: Lael Lloyd

On episode #85 of the Speak Up Storytelling podcast, Elysha and I talk storytelling!

In our follow up segment, we discuss some Homework for Life feedback from listeners and clients, talk about our new Patreon account, and share about upcoming events in the Speak Up realm. 

In our Homework for Life segment, I talk about a moment on my spreadsheet that did not require human interaction, and then I outline the story for the audience. 

Next we listen to a story by Lael Lloyd.  

Amongst the many things we discuss include:

1. Pacing

2. Holding back information to propel a story forward

3. Painting a clear picture in the audience's mind by using fewer words.

4. Transition that cut into scenes

5. Specificity and clarity at the end of stories

Next we answer questions about Elysha's favorite story and how to record anecdotes for future use.  

Lastly, we each offer a recommendation. 

RECOMMEDATIONS

Elysha:

• Octopus Dreaming: http://bit.ly/2UIuWJ1

Matt:

• TED: How to Tell a Story: http://bit.ly/2UFgFNo

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/35Mz1xS 

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

More sexy rumpus

The Oatmeal by Matthew Inman is one of the best online comics that you will ever read.

His comic pertaining to Valentines Day is incredibly funny. Go and read the whole thing. It will take two minutes, but it will be 120 seconds well spent.

But I found his advice regarding the a common Valentines Day refrain to be especially prescient and worth considering as the holiday approaches.

He writes:

If Valentines Day really means so little to you, then I politely ask you to shut the hell up and treat it like any other day.

Or go have a sexy adventure rumpus with someone who smells nice.

Less complaining.

More sexy rumpus.

It could not have been said any better.

Sometimes it's better not to ask questions

I found this on the art table.

Charlie’s handwriting.

I just moved on.

The truth about hunting elephants

Botswana, home to 130,000 elephants, is auctioning off the rights to hunt and kill 70 of these animals. A ban on hunting elephants was lifted last May, and every year, Botswana issues 272 hunting licenses.

Neighboring Zimbabwe allows 500 elephants to be hunted each year.

I am not opposed to hunting. Though it’s not something I would ever do, I don’t think that hunters are doing anything wrong. I eat my share of cheeseburgers, so it would be hypocritical of me to criticize anyone for killing an animal in the wild in order to eat it.

I can even understand why people enjoy the sport of hunting. The challenge of tracking game in the wild and the skill required to hit a live target with a weapon is not appealing to me, but I can understand its appeal.

I also understand the value of hunting in terms of protecting the species. In some cases, reducing the population of certain animals like deer can actually improve the overall health of the species. Also, the money earned from selling these hunting licenses can be used to preserve endangered species overall.

Kill a few to save the many.

I get all of that.

But hunting elephants?

Even if the money spent on your hunting license ultimately saves the species, you have to be an enormous douchebag to want to hunt an elephant.

A desperate, attention-seeking man-child with an enormously fragile ego and a sense of entitlement that is wholly undeserved.

Anxiety vs. nervousness

This is one of the most interesting things I’ve heard recently:

Nervousness is a normal, natural, healthy response to situations that are new, frightening, difficult, exciting, and potentially dangerous.

Anxiety is the unnatural, unhealthy response to situations that would not typically produce a similar response in others.

The problem is that so many people equate nervousness to anxiety, thus assigning a pathology to a reaction that is completely healthy and normal.

For example, public speaking makes most people nervous. In surveys about fears, public speaking often ranks above death as the most frightening possibility that a person can imagine. Yet I have heard many, many people tell me that even the thought of speaking in front of others causes them great anxiety.

My response has always been this:

You’re not special. Public speaking makes almost everyone nervous. Just thinking about standing on a stage in front of other human beings makes most people nervous. Some people simply choose to exit their comfort zone and do something exceptionally difficult and legitimately terrifying.

It’s not anxiety. It’s just nervousness. An ordinary, expected reaction to something that frightens almost everyone.

And since I’ve managed to convince hundreds of people who absolutely refused to take the stage to ultimately stand before others and share their truth, this message seems to work.

You’re not anxious. You’re normal.

A friend tells me that she can’t drive into New York City because of her anxiety. The complexity of the route, the traffic, and the distance make her too anxious to manage the drive alone.

Maybe my friend suffers from anxiety, but more than likely, she’s just nervous about driving into a new and complicated city filled with impatient and aggressive drivers and unexpected one-way streets.

Many people feel nervous about driving into a city like New York, especially if they don’t do so on a regular basis. It’s only natural to feel this way.

It’s normal.

I have yet to convince her of this truth, but I continue to hammer away at her defenses whenever I get the chance.

The point that the therapist was making is that we have a tendency to perceive something as normal and expected as nervousness into the more chronic, debilitating problem of anxiety, sometimes seeking help and medication to mitigate a problem that doesn’t really exist.

Even worse, when we label our nervousness as anxiety, it becomes harder to overcome and easier to assume that it can’t be overcome.

This is not to say that anxiety is not a real thing, nor am I implying that public speaking or driving can’t produce anxiety in some people. Anxiety is a real thing, and it’s an enormous struggle for many people.

I know this.

But this idea that people often perceive nervousness as anxiety feels right to me, too.

Then again, what the hell do I know? Other than legitimately frightening moments like Charlie swallowing a marble or our cat requiring CPR in order to return from the dead, few things ever make me nervous. I also have a strong inclination towards optimism and a tendency to minimize the perception, impact, and severity of most problems, which might not be so healthy, either.

I simply compare the problems of today with the problems of my past, and they almost never measure up.

Homelessness, jail, and armed robbery are hard to beat.

I’m also constantly telling myself:

“This problem, which might seem enormous and overwhelming at the moment, will be utterly irrelevant tomorrow or next week or next month, so keep that in mind and treat this problem like it’s something that will be ultimately irrelevant. Solve it, but don’t sweat it.”

Perhaps this isn’t so healthy, either. I know for sure that it annoys many people when I’m dumb enough to say this aloud.

Perhaps this whole nervousness versus anxiety idea is little more than confirmation bias. A theory that conveniently aligns to my personal belief system.

Still, I like it.

Professional Best Man (and the amazing things that have happened since I first proposed this job)

In case you’re a new reader (or perhaps forgotten):

Almost a decade ago, I proposed a new job idea:

Professional best man

It remains a role that I am waiting to fill. Let me explain.

Although I’ve met many outstanding best men in my role as a wedding 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 500 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 tragically unprepared best men on what to say just minutes before their toasts and making 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 DJ 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.

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.

Since I proposed this idea back in 2011, a number of surprising things have happened:

1. Three grooms have attempted to hire me. Two lived in California and one lived in the UK, and their wedding dates dd not align to my schedule, so I had to decline.

2. One groom hired me, explaining that he was marrying a woman whose culture demanded that the best man be an unmarried, never-before-married friend, and he had no one in his life who met these qualifications. I explained that I did not meet the qualifications, either, but he didn't care. He planned to lie to his fiancee and tell her that I was a lifelong bachelor. Elysha wasn't pleased with this ruse, but I agreed. After hiring me and planning for six months, he backed out without explanation.

3. A bride strongly considered hiring me for her husband, who is "a great guy" but lacks any real close friends. Ultimately she decided that hiring me might hurt her fiancee's feelings and decided against it.

4. At least three television producers - two reality show producers and one documentarian - have contacted me about appearing in their television shows. We explored the possibility in all three instances, but nothing came of it.

5. When The Wedding Ringer, a film about a professional best man, came out in 2015, the actor and star of the film, Kevin Hart, contacted me, crediting me with coming up with the idea first.

I await the next step in this journey to make this job a reality. At least once.

The Super Bowl halftime show and storytelling have a lot in common

As I watched the Super Bowl halftime show on Sunday, I found myself wondering if Jennifer Lopez and Shakira were lip syncing their performance. 

It sure looked like it. 

I turned to the Internet for answers and discovered that most Super Bowl halftime performers lip sync at least some of their act. So, too, does the person singing the national anthem.

The NFL actually recommends it. 

There was also a great deal of backlash on the Internet about this practice. Earlier in the week, Lady Gaga even warned Shakira and Lopez that she "didn't want to see any lip syncing," and fans traditionally despise the practice.

I attended a Britney Spears concert years ago, and that entire show was lip synced. I hated every minute of it.  

I found myself wondering:

Would fans prefer a sonically flawless performance that is pre-recorded and lip synced, or would they prefer a performance that is far from perfect but performed live.

I think they would almost always prefer the latter, because the latter allows for authenticity and vulnerability. It's real. We like to watch live events because the performer is putting their soul on the line. Whether it's a football player or comic or trapeze artist, that person is performing live, and anything could happen.  

Performing live requires expertise and skill and courage. It's the courage we admire most.   

As human beings, we are drawn to vulnerability and the bravery that it requires. The courage to put everything on the line in a public way. 

I think the same thing about storytelling. When a storyteller takes the stage and shares a bit of her life, the audience is drawn to the vulnerability on display. 

This s one of many reasons why I advise storytellers not to memorize their stories word-for-word. Audiences do not want word callers reciting perfectly memorized lines to an audience. They do not want monologists. They want to feel like the storyteller is speaking from the heart. This is why we tell stories without notes, and it's why there is an enormous difference between a writer reading a story to the audience and a storyteller telling a story to the audience.

Reading is easy. Telling is hard.

Audiences don't expect your story to be unprepared, but they also don't want to think that the storyteller is simply reciting 847 perfectly memorized words.  

Audiences do not want perfection. They want something real. 

In fact, imperfection in storytelling is a beautiful thing. It's a signal to the audience that the storyteller is speaking from the heart and not from a script. 

Just think about that Super Bowl halftime show:

Did you love that sonically-pure performance? Or would you have preferred to hear those performers sing live, risking mistakes, with all of the imperfections that a live performance would've surely contained?

Sonic perfection belongs on the radio. Not on the stage.

The same is true for storytelling. 

Speak Up Storytelling #84: Matthew Dicks

On episode #84 of the Speak Up Storytelling podcast, I analyze my own story "Turtle" in an episode we call Storytelling Forensics. 

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

Parents extrapolate.

Here’s the problem with the parents of children older than your own:

Parents extrapolate. They assume that their experiences will be your experiences, even though almost every variable in their parenting equation is different than every variable in your own equation.

I hate this so very much. These doomsayers assume that their struggles will be your own. They think that their failures will be your failures. Their children’s troublemaking will be the same as your own children’s troublemaking.

I really, really hate this.

Years ago, before Elysha and I had children, I had friends whose daughter spent the first six years of her life sleeping in their bed.

Every night without exception.

When my friend told me this, I was shocked. I knew of parents whose children would often climb into their parents’ bed in the middle of the night, and I even knew parents who would spend a significant amount of time sleeping in their child’s bed until their kid fell asleep, but a child just flat-out sleeping in her parents’ bed every night?

I ‘d never heard of this, but I was absolutely certain that I didn’t want any part of it.

My friend assured me that I would suffer the same fate. “Everyone does it,” she said. “No one talks about it. You just wait and see.”

Thought I later discovered that this sleeping arrangement is more common than I once thought, I explained to my friend that I did not think this would happen to us.

My friend was visibly annoyed by my confidence.

But I was right. Other than the rare nightmare or excessively loud thunderstorm, my children have never slept in our bed. They may climb into our bed in the morning after I’ve departed to cuddle with Elysha for a while, but sleeping in our bed or even in our bedroom has never happened.

I’m not saying it was easy to sleep-train our children. It required the willingness to say no many times and even listen to them cry on those first few nights when we moved them from cradle to crib, but today my kids are outstanding sleepers who love their beds and the personal space it affords.

The same has been true about so many things. I’ve had parents assure me that when my kids are in high school, drinking alcohol will be so ubiquitous that we’ll be hosting parties in order to keep our kids safe, even though both Elysha and I never touched a drop of alcohol in high school.

If we managed to avoid drinking until after high school, isn’t it least possible that our kids will, too?

Can’t we at least entertain the possibility?

Parents have told me about how it would be impossible to avoid getting our child a cell phone once she’s in middle school, even though our middle school daughter does not currently have a phone and, at least for now, does not want a phone.

We were told that we wouldn’t see movies for the first 5-10 years of parenthood.

Not true. We saw 29 movies in the first two years of Clara’s life. Many at the drive-in while Clara quietly slept in the backseat.

We were told that it would be impossible to leave our infant with a babysitter and feel safe.

Not true. Our babysitters have become like family to us.

I was warned that my son would constantly pee on me while changing his diaper. While this occasionally happened to Elysha, he never once peed on me.

This is not to say that our children are perfect or easy in any way. It simply means that our variables are different than the variables of other parents, so our problems are different, too. Some of our struggles may be similar to the struggles of other parents, but I would never presume that this would be true in all cases.

I avoid extrapolation at all costs. I never assume that my son’s annoying habits will be the same for you. I would never tell the parent of a child who is younger than mine to expect the same things that I have experienced, yet so many parents so this all the time.

They extrapolate.

They assume that their variables and the resulting conditions of those variables will be the variables and resulting conditions of every other parent.

This is ridiculous, and it annoys me.

It causes parents to say things like, “Oh, you just wait…” and “You think it’s hard now…”

Please don’t do this. If you’re already doing it, stop.

Not only is your persistent negativity and extrapolated assumptions unwarranted, unnecessary, and cruel, but you’re often wrong.

Your predictions suck.

If a parent asks you for advice, offer it.

If a parent looks like they need help, offer assistance.

Be helpful, positive, and kind. Please?

Super Bowl commercials feature a big mistake, a bold move, and love.

I did not enjoy the Super Bowl very much this year.

After watching the Patriots play in three straight Super Bowls and 4 of the last 5 (and 5 of the last 8), it’s no fun watching two other teams play in the big game.

Spoiled? Sure. The team that I love, whose games I attend regularly, has kicked the ass of the opposition for so many years that they have spoiled me.

A friend of mine sent me this moment from The Simpsons that perfectly describes the feelings of a New England Patriots fan:

Homer: Mr Burns you must be the richest guy in the world. 
Mr Burns: Yes, but I’d trade it all... for just a little bit more.

We’re also awaiting our new living room furniture, so I watched the game while sitting on a dining room chair in an otherwise empty room.

This may have contributed to my lack of enjoyment.

But yes, it was football, which I enjoy watching regardless of the team, and the commercials are always fun to watch.

The commercial moment that caught my attention this year was a combination of two commercials.

First there was the Google ad, which demonstrated how precious and important photos and the memories attached to them can be with the perfect combination of nostalgia, heartbreak, and joy.

It was a tremendously effective ad. When it finished, there were tears in my eyes.

Then the commercial for Sabra Hummus appeared. An excellent and amusing ad featuring several celebrities and the first drag queens ever in a Super Bowl commercial, so in that sense, ground breaking.

But also terrible. Terrible in that it followed the Google ad and was so jarring in tone, language, and even color that it annoyed me. Still recovering from the emotions of Google ad, I I barely registered the Sabra ad the first time. It felt like an intrusion. With tears in my eyes and thoughts of life, death, and the importance of capturing memories in my mind, my senses were suddenly assaulted by the energy and humor of this ad.

It made me despise Sabra hummus.

It was a bad moment for Sabra. After spending millions of dollars on a 30-second Super Bowl spot, they allowed their ad to run immediately following a Google ad that was three times as long and deeply moving.

Not good.

Even worse, the commercial after the Sabra ad was a WaetherTech ad about veterinarians who saved a dog’s life after a life threatening heart condition left the dog with less than a 1% chance of surviving.

This commercial should’ve followed the Google commercial. In fact, had the Sabra ad and the WeatherTech ad been flipped, all would have been well. The Google ad leaves you with tears in your eyes and thoughts of loved ones both alive and gone, but the WeatherTech ad ends with uplift and inspiration. It ends with a dog running on a beach.

It primes you for something fun.

Also, the Google ad ends with the sounds of a dog, which would’ve blended perfectly into the WeatherTech ad.

With all the money being spent on Super Bowl commercials, I’m shocked that more thought is not put into the order of commercials. I already work as a consultant for a large advertising firm. Companies would be wise to also hire me to consult on how to tell their story in the midst of other stories.

Three other things that I noted about the Super Bowl commercials:

Tide owned the night with its integration into ads and ongoing story throughout the night.

Brilliant.

The fact that Ellen Degeneres and Portia de Rossi - an openly gay couple - starred in a Super Bowl commercial was fantastic. As the commercial aired, I thought about all the bigots in America who think that they get to define appropriate love based upon some buffet-style Bible nonsense or just old fashioned “You don’t look like me” bigotry and hoped they got the message:

We’re done with you and your ancient, bigoted beliefs. Grow up or go away.

In fact, there were arguably same-sex couples in at least two other ads, too. With the country watching, love was on display, regardless of gender.

I liked many of the ads this year, but for me, the Snickers ad tickled me the most.

The Tom Brady Hulu ad was pretty great, too, but I'd really like some assurances that he will be playing for the Patriots next year.

Moments of Note 2019

If you’re a regular reader, you know that I recommend keeping a running record of what I call “Moments of Note” during the course of the year as a means of preserving the most meaningful events of the year.

It’s my way of not allowing any year to slip away without notice (which is what we so often do).

Then, when the year is finally complete, I review the list in order to look back on the previous year and acknowledge that stuff happened. The year mattered. I did some things. I didn’t waste my time.

I did that this morning, reading and revising the list so I could post it today. The list won’t mean anything to you, but as I read through each item, I felt an enormous sense of satisfaction for a year lived well. It made me feel very good about my most recent trip around the sun.

It was also a lot of fun reliving my year and remembering all the moments that made it special.

Like I said, my list will mean nothing to you, but your list would mean the world to you, so if you’re not already keeping one, start today.

MOMENTS OF NOTE 2019

• I was awarded a federal trademark for the concept of “Homework for Life.”

• I attended the Patriots playoff game, where they beat the San Diego Chargers 41-28.

• Elysha and I saw Elton John in what is supposedly his final tour.

• I won the Valley Voices Story Slam Championship in North Hampton, MA.

• The Patriots won the Super Bowl for the fifth time.

• I delivered the keynote address for the Literacy Volunteers of Central CT gala.

• I taught storytelling and communication strategies at MIT.

• I began consulting for one of the largest advertising firms in the country.

• We attended Clara and Charlie’s dance recital.

• Charlie started playing Little League baseball.

• I spent three days in Vermont working on storytelling with a small group of attorneys.

• We made our first trip to Disney World in Florida.

• Elysha and I saw the 20th anniversary revival of Rent.

• I spoke to an audience of 2,000 at the Yale-New Haven Hospital conference at the Oakdale.

• I delivered the keynote at the Newington High School alternative graduation program.

• I taught storytelling workshops here in Hartford to attendees from Maryland, Kansas City, Montreal, Philly, Mexico City, and Orlando.

• I taught a summertime storytelling bootcamp in Hartford to students from China, British Columbia, San Diego, and Chicago.

• Elysha started gardening.

• Elysha and I saw Hamilton.

• Charlie and I marched in the Memorial Day parade with his baseball team.

• I performed stand up six times.

• Elysha and I produced 17 Speak Up shows at Infinity Hall, the Connecticut Historical Society, Real Art Ways, and several solo show locations.

• We spent a week visiting our friends, Plato and Sharon, on Whidbey Island, in Washington.

• I taught a workshop and performed my solo show at the Taproot Theater in Seattle. Elysha played her ukulele and sang publicly for just the second time.  

• I published my sixth book, “Twenty-one Truths About Love.”

• I won 8 Moth StorySLAMs, including my first in Seattle.

• I competed in four Moth GrandSLAM competitions in New York and Boston.

• We became members of Winding Trails and spent endless summer days on the beach.

• Elysha and I celebrated one year of podcasting.

• I directed Carla Katz’s solo show.

• Charlie was elected to the student senate.

• Clara and Charlie attended Winding Trails summer camp for two weeks and loved it.

• Clara finished elementary school and began middle school.

• I wrote for Lisa Lampanelli’s theater show.

• I began taking golf lessons.

• I officiated the wedding of one of my very first students.

• I spoke at Grand Rounds at Yale University.

• I spoke to 500 state and federal prosecutors in Indianapolis, Indiana.

• “Greetings Little One” became a book (six books in all).

• Our cat, Pluto, died and was then resuscitated via CPR, giving him and I something uniquely in common.  

• Elysha and I attended an Elvis Costello/Blondie concert.

• Charlie swallowed a marble.

• Our bathroom was finally remodeled.

• Our driveway was finally repaved.

• I attended seven New England Patriots games with my friends Shep and Scott.

• I surprised Elysha with a weekend getaway to Dorsett, VT.

Resolution update: January 2020

PERSONAL FITNESS

1. Don’t die.

My annual physical was filled with good news. My cholesterol is slightly elevated, but my calcium scoring (an indication of the likely amount of plaque in my arteries by scanning the calcium build-up in my heart) was zero, and all my other numbers were good.

I’m eating more oatmeal and slightly fewer cheeseburgers to lower my cholesterol back to normal levels, but otherwise, I’m as healthy as an ox.

2. Lose 20 pounds.

I lost 12 pounds in January. More weight than I lost all last year. I’m kind of astounded.

I accomplished this by some simple switches to my routine:

Daily calorie and exercise accounting on an app
No more visits to the vending machine at work
An increased level of intensity at the gym

I’ve also identified snacks that I enjoy that are also low in calories for those times between meals when I’m hungry.

12 pounds! At this rate, I could disappear completely by June.

3. Eat at least three servings of fruits and/or vegetables per day, six days a week.

Done! I counted orange juice as a fruit on a handful of days, bot too bad. It’s kind of a fruit.

4. Do at least 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, and 3 one-minute planks for five days a week.

Done. I did not miss a single day in January.

5. Set a new personal best in golf.

The golf courses were not open in January.

My friends went on a golf weekend to Florida, but I couldn’t go. I was supposed to be speaking at a conference. The conference was cancelled and I was paid half my fee to do nothing, which is always amazing, but in this case, I would’ve much rather joined by friends in Florida.

WRITING CAREER

6. Complete my seventh novel before the end of 2020.

I’m hit a teeny tiny bump. For the sixth time in my writing career, my editor has moved onto another publishing house, leaving me in that terrified position of hoping that the editor who has been assigned to me loves my work and is excited about my next book.

It really is terrifying. Also, losing that many editors is ridiculous and not normal, but what more would you expect from my life?

I’m meeting my new editor in February, so before I proceed with the novel I have been writing, I’m going to meet her, hope she loves me, and hope she really loves my idea for the next book.

So I’m on hold until later this month.

In the meantime, I’ve sent a pitch for my next non-fiction title to my agent and begun writing another non-fiction book because I’m crazy.

7. Write/complete at least five new picture books, including one with a female, non-white protagonist. 

No progress.

8. Write a memoir.

Writing continues. Rather slowly.

9. Write a new screenplay.

No progress.

10. Submit at least five Op-Ed pieces to The New York Times for consideration.

None submitted in January.

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

None submitted in January.

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

No behaviors identified or attempted in January.

Any ideas?

13. Increase my newsletter subscriber base to 5,000.

I added 111 subscribers in January for a total of 4,046. Well on pace to reach my goal.

If you’d like to sign up for my newsletter, you can do so here:

14. Write at least six letters to my father.

None written in January.  

15. Write 100 letters in 2020.

Four letters written in January. Well below the monthly amount needed to reach my goal.

16. Convert 365 Days of Elysha into a book.

No progress.

17. Complete and release my limited episode podcast on “Twenty-One Truths About Love.”

The podcast is nearly complete. Episodes with my editor, the cover designer, and more are ready to go. I need to record the first episode with Elysha and finish editing the last one and it will be ready to launch.

STORYTELLING/SPEAKING CAREER

18. Produce a total of 12 Speak Up storytelling events.

One show produced in January:

A sold out performance at the Wadsworth Atheneum.

19. Pitch myself to at least 5 upcoming TEDx events with the hopes of being accepted by one.

No progress. I’ll be speaking at a TEDx event in the Berkshires in April, but I booked that gig last year.

20. Attend at least 15 Moth events with the intention of telling a story.

No Moth attended attended in January.

21. Win at least three Moth StorySLAMs.

No Moth events attended in January. Hard to win if you don’t play.

22. Win a Moth GrandSLAM.

I’ll be competing in my 27th Moth GrandSLAM in February.

I like my story a lot.

23. Produce at least 40 episodes of our new podcast Speak Up Storytelling. 

Elysha and I produced four episodes in January.

Our latest dropped on Wednesday! Subscribe today!

24. Begin providing transcriptions of each episode of the Speak Up Storytelling podcast.

No progress.

25. Explore the monetization of the Speak Up Storytelling podcast.

I set up our Patreon page in January and identified possible perks for Patreon contributions. I am nearly ready to move forward on this.

26. Perform stand up at least six times in 2020. 

No performances in January.

27. Pitch at least three stories to This American Life.

No stories pitched in January.

28. Pitch myself to Marc Maron’s WTF podcast at least three times.

No pitches send in January.

29. Produce at least one new video for my YouTube channel each month.

Done. I posted a brand new story plus a video that shows me playing my 3-2-1 storytelling improv game.

Subscribe to my YouTube channel here.

Watch me model 3-2-1 here.

30. Find a means of producing my storytelling instruction for an online platform.

No progress in January.

HOME

31. Print, hang, and/or display at least 25 prints, photos, or portraits in our home.

Walls were painted in our backroom, so we can now begin hanging prints and portraits in that room. The rest of the house will be painted soon.

32. Replace the 12 ancient, energy-inefficient windows in our home with new windows that will keep the cold out and actually open in the warmer months.

Estimates have been obtained and a company has been chosen. It looks like we’ll be replacing 18 windows. The project will likely commence in March.     

33. Clear the basement. 

No progress.

34. Refinish the hardwood floors.

This might be a problem. Hardwood floors require at least a few days to be completed, and we have cats. The cats will absolutely not stay with anyone else while the floors are being done, so what the hell are we going to do?

35. Purchase a new television.

Done! It’s large and beautiful and professionally mounted to the wall.

FAMILY/FRIENDS

36. Take at least one photo of my children every day.

I missed 7 days in January. I need to somehow make this a habit.

37. Take at least one photo with Elysha and myself each week.

No photos of Elysha and me in January. Again, I need to find a way to make this a habit.

38. Cook at least 12 good meals (averaging one per month) in 2020.

One meal was cooked for my family in January. I over-salted the potatoes and replied on a rotisserie chicken,. but Elysha really liked my carrots.

39. Ride my bike with my kids at least 25 times in 2020.

No progress. It’s January in new England.

40. Plan a reunion of the Heavy Metal Playhouse.

No progress.  

41. I will not comment, positively or negatively, about physical appearance of any person save my wife and children, in 2017 in an effort to reduce the focus on physical appearance in our culture overall. 

In response to Donald Trump’s negative comments about several people’s physical appearance on Twitter, I sent him a tweet insulting his physical appearance.

It was liked and retweeted thousands of times, but I wish I hadn’t done it. I was angry.   

42. Surprise Elysha at least six times in 2020.

I sent Elysha a bouquet of flowers to her workplace on her birthday.

I’ve also prepared two other surprises.

One done so far.

43. Play poker at least six times in 2020.

I played poker once in January. It was a disturbing game. I busted out twice in the first three hours, which is not my typical result. I don’t always win, but I always finish in the black.

I redeemed myself by winning the first tournament and finishing in second place in the second tournament, resulting in an overall profit for the night, but for about three hours, it was like I’d forgotten how to play poker.  

44. Spend at least six days with my best friend of more than 30 years.

No progress.   

NEW PROJECTS

45. Understand Instagram better.

No progress.

46. Listen to new music via the Billboard Hot 100 Spotify playlist at least four times per month.

Done! It’s interesting… I’m finding songs I like, but more fascinating, I’m discovering the kinds of songs I like by listening to 20-40 new songs per month and knowing almost immediately if I’m going to like the song.

The top two songs on the Billboard 100 in the middle of January used the n-word at least a dozen times between them. Given that I like to sing along with music, this didn’t work for me, and frankly, I just didn’t want to hear it. I’m not opposed to African-Americans using the word, but when it comes to music, it’s not for me.

It turns out that I tend to like songs that are sonically simple - easily identified instrumentation - and possess strong, clear, narrative lyrics.

Songs that I especially liked in January were Memories, Circles, Lose You To Lose Me, Good As Hell.

47. Host a fundraiser for RIP Medical Debt, which would allow us to relieve the medical debt of struggling Americans for pennies on the dollar.

No progress.

48. Complete my Eagle Scout project.

No progress.

49. Scan and send photos of Laura to her daughters.

No progress.

50. Post my progress in terms of these resolutions on this blog and social media on the first day of every month.

Done.

The library is the most popular cultural destination in America in 2019, but not for me.

Gallup released its survey of the most common cultural destinations for Americans in 2019.

The most popular cultural destination by far was the library, averaging 10.5 visits in 2019.

As an author, I’m thrilled to hear that reading books is alive and well in America, but I’m also a bit torn. I hope some of those library visitors are also going to bookstores and purchasing books, too.

Twenty-one Truths About Love, Storyworthy, and four other novels in particular.

Women also visited libraries twice as much as men, proving once again that they should rule the world.

As for me, I far exceeded the average of 10.5 visits in 2019. Between speaking at libraries and bringing my children, I probably doubled that number in 2019.

Next was going to the movies at a theater, which averaged 5.3 times last year.

I can recall seeing at least 6 movies in the theater last year, but we would see many, many more if our daughter, Clara, and to some degree, our son, Charlie, weren’t so opposed to going to the movie theater. Clara doesn’t like movies very much, eschewing conflict whenever possible, and Charlie is picky about the movies he wants to see.

It makes Elysha and me crazy. When they are old enough to be left alone, Elysha and I will be leaving them behind often to go to the movies.

I’d like to also point out that since the kids have been born, Elysha and I have seen about half a dozen movies per year, and in some years, many more.

A lot of terrible, self-loathing human beings took great joy in telling us that it would be years before we could return to the movie theater after having children. Despite the existence of our kids, we have continued to see movies at the national average.

The average American attended a live sporting event 4.7 times per year.

I far exceeded this total, attending seven Patriots games and a couple minor league baseball games in 2019.

Concerts or theater events came in next at 3.8 times in 2019.

Once again, I far exceeded this number in 2019. Elysha and I saw Elton John and Elvis Costello and Blondie in concert, plus Hamilton and Rent in the theater. We took the kids to the circus. We also attended a Moth Mainstage in New Haven, a handful of comedy shows including Lisa Lampanelli’s “Losin’ It” (on which I am now a credited writer), and several smaller events like concerts in the park. Add to this list the theater shows that we saw during our week at Disney, and this easily becomes our most popular cultural destination.

If I add in the theater events that I produced and events in which I performed, the number gets even larger.

The average American visited national parks 3.7 times in 2019. I visited many parks in 2019, and I also hiked local trails and visited state parks like Gillette Castle, but in terms of national parks, I haven’t visited one of those… ever?

Wow. I’m not sure if I’ve ever visited a national park.

Americans visited museums 2.5 times in 2019. Thanks to our children, we far exceeded this number. I suspect that visiting a museum is my children’s favorite cultural destination, and they would be happy if we took them to one every weekend.

It’s a little annoying.

Americans visited casinos 2.5 times in 2019. Elysha and I saw the Elvis Costello/Blondie concert in a casino, but other than quickly passing through the casino to each the theater and eating a quick burger in a restaurant, we actively and aggressively avoid casinos whenever possible. I play poker (which is not actually gambling), and for a time, played often enough and well enough to pay for our honeymoon and make two mortgage payments from my income, but I’ve only played poker at a casino a handful of times.

Most of my poker profits came from online play before it was made illegal in 2011.

Elysha and I can’t stand casinos. The cigarette smoking is enough to send us running, but the whole place makes us a little crazy. Watching small children awake around midnight, playing games in the arcade or calling for their parents from just beyond the slot machines, hurts our hearts.

There is a palpable feeling of sadness and desperation in a casino that I detest.

Rounding out the list of cultural destination is the zoo, at 0.9 visits in 2019.

We visited Animal Kingdom while in Disney in 2019, and we tend to visit the zoo once or twice each year.

Overall I'm pleased with the culture that we experienced in 2019.

More movies, maybe a national park or two, and perhaps a couple more Patriots playoff games would've been nice, but you can't have everything.

This was me.

The crazy thing about this outstanding ad (at least for me) is that for the first half of my life, I spoke just like this.

I have video of myself prior to moving to Connecticut, and in this clips, I sound exactly like this, in accent, word choice, and even attitude.

My children hear the accent slip out from time to time, as do my students. Certain sentences - depending on the collection of words they contain - are difficult for me. I’ve actually altered the vocabulary in some of the sentences I speak onstage for this very reason.

And when I spend the day at a Patriots game or with friends or family who speak like this, it comes right back for a time.

It’s like another version of me, hidden somewhere inside my body, leaking out from time to time, just waiting to spring forth and take over again.

When I moved to Connecticut back in 1993, my first job was working for the now defunct Back of Hartford. I answered the phone about half a dozen times on my first day, saying, “Bank of Hartford, how may I help you?” before my manager finally asked me to stop answering the phones.

“Bank of Hartford” was coming out like “Bank of Haht-fud.”

Also, when I first moved to Connecticut, everyone thought I was angry and aggressive. All the time.

Some might still think this today.

For the record, this ad handles the Boston-area accent exceptionally well, probably because Krasinski, Dratch, and Evans are all originally from the Boston area. Evans sounds the most authentic to me. Krasinski’s accent sounds a tiny bit off, but overall all three actors nail it.

The New York Post describes the ad by saying that “Massachusetts natives Chris Evans, John Krasinski and Rachel Dratch argue in exaggerated Boston accents.”

The New York Post is wrong. Those accents aren’t exaggerated. This is how people living in the Boston area all their lives sound.

Evan’s opening line, both in words, attitude, and accent, is just perfect, and Krasinski’s reference to Evans as “Kid” is exactly Bostonian. Even the list of places where Krasinski has parked his car is just right.

I’ve heard a lot of bad Boston accents in my time. Credit Hyundai and the folks at Innocean for getting this one right.