An alligator can live up to 100 years…

which is why there’s an increased chance they will see you later.

One of the midwives who helped Kim on her journey into motherhood had experience working with the Navajo people. She told us about a custom of theirs in which the first person to make a newborn laugh is obligated to throw the family a huge party to celebrate the occasion. According to their tradition, it’s considered the moment in which the baby is fully present and “in the world.”

I think that’s pretty cool.

You often see people rejoicing over baby’s first words, first steps, and first day of school, but never have I heard a big deal made out of baby’s first laugh. At least not enough to warrant a party to be thrown because of it.

It’s a striking example of how little we value laughter in our society.

What’s weird is that laughter is a universally loved activity, and yet, adulthood often finds us treating it as a non-renewable resource, something to be reserved for when after our work is done. We leave it out of serious and challenging situations, and grow suspicious of people who do too much of it.

Which brings me to alligators.

I don’t know about you, but when I see an alligator, I don’t think, “Here’s a guy who must be the life of every party.” He’s not on my Top 10 list of Animals Who Don’t Take Themselves Too Seriously.

And yet, when he opens his mouth, it looks like he just heard a good joke.

Which gives me hope, because I encounter a lot of people walking around with the sunny disposition of an alligator these days. 

We can all agree that laughter is beneficial. It boosts the immune system (why they say laughter is the best medicine), brings you more energy, lower levels of pain, and protects you from the dreaded Adultitis. Of course, as we get older and inundated with Adultitis, laughs can be hard to come by. 

The good news is that you can literally fake it ’till you make it. 

Believe it or not, fake laughter offers the same benefits as real kind. Certified life coach Katie West says, “Pretending to laugh (or practicing laughter) can alter our body chemistry since our brains can not tell the difference between real and fake laughter.”

I have experienced a group of people fake laughing, and I can tell you, the vibe shift is real. And when people are practicing fake laughs, real ones bubble up like clockwork.

Likewise, we can generate more laughter by being intentional about injecting some fun into your routine:

• Read the funny pages over breakfast.
• Listen to comedy podcasts on your commute.
• Get a joke-a-day calendar for your desk.
• Turn your inanimate objects into Adultitis Booby Traps.
• Hang out with funny people.
• Attend an improv show.
• Read or watch something funny before bed. (At the very least, stop watching the Crisis News Network!)

Stress continues to be a contributing factor to every single thing that kills us, from heart disease to suicide. Yet the standard operating procedure these days is to trudge through life with furrowed brows and steely determination. But now, more than ever, we should take a cue from the Navajo people and celebrate laughter.

Every single laugh is a dollar in the economy of the human spirit.

I get that we live in serious and challenging times, but that doesn’t require us to take ourselves seriously.

St. Teresa of Ávila, a Spanish mystic and great reformer, once said, “May God protect me from gloomy saints.” 

One of the greatest things ever is hearing my kids laugh. Whether it’s a silly little giggle or an unbridled belly laugh, there’s no better sound in the world.

I imagine that God probably feels the same way about his children.

When we laugh, we are happy and free. During that moment of laughter, we are not worried, anxious, or stressed. And so it must give God great joy to see his children buckled over in laughter, just as it does me with my kids.

And reminds me just how much Adultitis must hate it.

All the more reason to make laughter a priority.

As Charlie Chaplin, one of the world’s greatest Adultitis fighters and a patron saint of comedy once said, “A day without laughter is a day wasted.”

Did you used to be fun?

Next time you look in the mirror, I challenge you to ask the question, “Would I want to hang out with me?”

I know a lot of people who label themselves as “un-fun,” wishing it weren’t so but resigned to a monotonous stream of grown-up responsibilities, obligations, and commitments.

If that describes you, take heart. I refuse to believe that you’re the boring, stick-in-the-mud fuddy-duddy you (or your favorite teenager) feel like you are sometimes. That fun-having expert with a PhD in Play is still there. The problem might simply be that you don’t have any margin for fun.

Margin for fun?

Yes. You’ve probably heard of “margin of error,” so let’s start there. A margin of error can be defined as how many mistakes you can make and still be able to achieve something. If you’re an Olympic athlete, one misstep can take you out of medal contention. It’s usually stressful when your margin of error is too small. Maybe you’re not an Olympic athlete, but if you’ve ever had too much month at the end of your paycheck and the transmission went out in your car, you know what I’m talking about.

Likewise, life is harder and less enjoyable if you don’t have enough margin for fun. 

What causes this? How does our margin for fun get so narrow?

It could be a result of doling out too many yeses. The more projects you’re juggling, the more activities your kids are in, the more committees you sit on, the less your margin for fun. One thing going wrong in your day becomes a grenade chucked into your fully-stocked china shop of a schedule. Not fun.

You can also limit your margin for fun by worrying too much about stuff that doesn’t matter as much as you think it does. You’re gonna have to do your own reality check on this one, but demanding anything close to perfection from, say, the cleanliness of your house, your kids’ report cards, or your own self is usually an effective way to dramatically decrease your margin for fun.

And sometimes we are afraid to indulge in fun because we think it will make us look silly. And it’s true; it might. Taking a selfie with a statue could draw some sideways glances. You will almost certainly look ridiculous ice skating for the first time (or the first time in a long time). But, as comedian Amy Pohler reminds us, “There’s power in looking silly and not caring that you do.” Giving too much weight to what other people think of us is a pulverizer of fun. 

This idea originated from a mom named Sara, who heard me speak at a conference in Arizona. She wrote: 

“I am a full-time teacher, mom of FOUR (15, 13, 10, and 8), and my husband and I serve on the boards, manage the teams, etc. My kids are busy with school, sports, and technology. After hearing your keynote, I want to increase my margin for fun.”

When you have no margin for fun, Adultitis is primed to take over.

So, how does one increase their margin for fun?

First, try dialing back on the yeses. Limit commitments, reclaim a Sabbath, or even one night a week. A tightly-packed schedule suffocates fun. Give your calendar some room to breathe, increasing the opportunity to embrace spontaneity, linger for one more hour, or take the long way home. Fun needs room to run and likes to hide off the beaten path.

Secondly, let go of perfection and lower expectations. I’m not talking about letting everything go to hell. I’m not talking about not caring, trying hard, or doing a good job. I’m talking about getting really honest with yourself to make sure the standard you’re setting for yourself isn’t just a way of proving your worth or patching over some pain by trying to achieve some Pinterest-fueled fantasy. If something doesn’t go according to your perfect plan, what’s really the worst that will happen? Saying the answer out loud is a great way to expose the impotence of this lingering fear. Lowering your expectations a smidge gives fun permission to emerge from the shadow and make some magic.

And finally, give yourself permission to look silly. The older I get, the more I’m convinced that the inability to feel embarrassment is a superpower. I have a friend who has a personal rule to always enter swimming pools via cannonball. It’s the least invisible entry method, but it’s undeniably the most fun. 

Why bother with any of this? Why work on increasing your margin of fun?

Because you only get one life, friend. This is it. Yes, it can be hard, but can also be amazing. And it’s way too short to be so serious all the time. At the risk of stating the obvious, a fun life is a BETTER life. A HAPPIER life. A LESS STRESSFUL life.

They say the only certainty is death and taxes. That’s because the fun is up to you. 

And it’s closer than you think; you just need to make some room for it on the Ferris wheel. 

I encourage you, I beg you, I beseech you…increase your margin for fun.

I remember the painting critiques back in art school. After spending several weeks working on our masterpieces, we’d all sit in a circle and explain what our paintings were about. Someone would inevitably say their piece was a postmodern reaction to the phycological impact of the industrial revolution that caused existential dread. To me it looked like a canvas with some paint sloppily applied. It did seem like the students who were better at making “serious” art got better grades. (Or perhaps they were just better at explaining why their art was serious.)

Perhaps this is why, after making this painting of Stonehenge, constructed with ice cream sandwiches, I feel obliged to explain why.

There are many theories about what Stonehenge is, who built it, when it was built, and what purpose it served. Many theories, but nobody knows for sure.

Of course, someone put them there. Someone had a reason for it.

Most theories assume it served some sort of “serious” purpose concerning astrological events or burial rituals. But maybe it was simply a good challenge that helped pass the time because nobody had invented cable yet. Maybe it was a primitive tourist attraction. Maybe it was just for fun.

People flock to Stonehenge not because they know what purpose it served, but because of the mystery. And mystery is fun. Plus it looks cool. Which is also fun.

Whimsy and fun are often seen as extra, nonessential. But fun is its own reason for being.

Imagine having the opportunity to jump into a pool of noodles. No child would ever wait until they could answer the question, “But what purpose does this serve?”

People with Adultitis need data and statistics before they justify why having fun is important. They can be found, but if you ask me, most of them are common sense.

Employees that are having fun are happier and do better work.

Customers that are having fun spend more money.

Leaders that are having fun attract more followers.

These are theories that explain why we should take having fun seriously. Why not have fun simply because… it’s fun?

We are constantly in the pursuit of happiness. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never seen someone having fun who is unhappy. Do we really need data to prove that a life filled with fun is better than one that isn’t?

Why did those ancient people build Stonehenge? I don’t know.

Why did I paint Stonehenge made out of ice cream sandwiches? Because I thought it would be fun.

Sometimes, that’s the only reason you need.

When you’re a kid, dressing up all fancy for dinner is exciting. Although it can be fun for grown-ups too, it doesn’t take long for Adultitis to creep in when one begins to worry about which fork to use or whether or not you have spinach in your teeth. The premise of an Olde Timey Dinner — one of the highlights from the 2014 Escape Adulthood Summit — is to keep the fun and ditch the pretense.

You don’t need to attend an Escape Adulthood Summit to experience the fun of Ye Olde Timey Dinner. Here are some tips for hosting your own:

WHAT to EAT

You can serve whatever you want, but the most important thing is to use the good china. If you need some convincing, read this. Even Kraft Macaroni & Cheese takes on gourmet status when served on fancy plates. (If you don’t have any fancy plates, just put the lights down low and light a few candles — instant fancy!)

If you need some inspiration, we had fun putting a childlike spin on the traditional seven-course format with the following menu:

Appetizer: PB&J Sushi Rolls
Soup: ABC Vegetable Soup
Salad: Fruit Shish-kabob with Drizzled Yogurt Sauce
Sorbet: Dreamsicle
Fish Entree: Fruity Pebbles Encrusted Tilapia with Strawberry-Mango-Jalapeño Salsa and green beans
Meat Entree: Bacon Cheeseburger Slider with house made Potato Chips
Dessert: Key Lime Tart

WHAT to WEAR

Get gussied up! We provided pearl necklaces, top hats, DIY bow ties, feather-adorned flapper girl headbands and fake mustaches for attendees to complement their jeans and t-shirts. Feather boas and long gloves are naturals as well. Nothing wrong with requiring guests to wear real dress-up clothes, if that floats your boat. Of you could challenge people to come outfitted with the fanciest clothes they can find at a second hand store, with the requirement of bringing the receipt as proof.

WHAT to LISTEN TO

Music is an important element of Ye Olde Timey Dinner. We found a collection of hits from the 1920s, which was a perfect soundtrack. You could also dig out some jazz or classical music, depending on what kind of mood you’re looking for.

WHAT to TALK ABOUT

We put tent cards at each table that encouraged diners to pepper their conversations with old fashioned words and phrases. (See top photo.) Frankly, it was one of the best parts of the whole affair. Keep in mind that a thorough understanding of each word is not required. Bonus laughter came when someone blurted out the word nonsensically. You can download the tent cards we used right here. (Just print them on card stock, cut them down the middle, fold ’em in half and you’re good to go.)

So that’s the gist of an Olde Timey Dinner. The goal of this article is to get you started, but we also hope that you put your own spin on the concept and share your ideas in the comments below!

Don’t dilly dally on this opportunity to starve Adultitis. May your shenanigans raise a ruckus to remember!

I’ll just state the obvious, because we’ve all thought it: We need more giant rubber duckies floating around in our lakes, rivers, and harbors. We also need more artists to think of ideas like this.

The giant yellow ambassador of fun pictured above is the work of conceptual artist Florentijin Hofman, who states:

The Rubber Duck knows no frontiers, it doesn’t discriminate people and doesn’t have a political connotation. The friendly, floating Rubber Duck has healing properties: it can relieve mondial tensions as well as define them. The rubber duck is soft, friendly and suitable for all ages!

The duck in question is about 46 feet tall and 55 feet long and is currently hanging out in Victoria Harbour in Hong Kong. Hoffman is well-known for larger-than-life works of whimsy. Here are a few of my favorites:

Signpost 5. Three (really) grand pianos washed upon the shore.

The Big Yellow Rabbit.

Fat Monkey – look close; it’s made with flip flops!

The Steelman.

Thank you Florentijin, for helping fight Adultitis with your wonderful work! You, my friend, are a Champion of Childhood!

Spatula City is a meal in which everyone eats dinner with unconventional utensils. Think spatulas, spaghetti forks and soup ladels.

Barbarian Spaghetti is when you eat spaghetti without plates.

Crazy might be when you combine them both.

We tried it for Ben’s first birthday and it was a smash hit. Recently, Missy Herman of North Dakota took the plunge for her son’s first birthday as well. (See photos above). My favorite part of the video she sent me on Facebook occurred right after the the pile of spaghetti and meatballs had been dumped on the table. One of the kids gleefully exclaimed to the people just entering the room, “Dad did that on purpose!”

One thing’s for sure: spaghetti may have been on the menu, but fun was the main course.

It reminds me of Corinne Hanson, who also pulled off the Barbaria Spaghetti / Spatula City double doozy with her family on on Christmas Eve.

I share this idea often in my speaking programs, and lots of people laugh at the idea of it. But it takes a special person to have the courage to try it out on unsuspecting friends and family.

We call them Champions. Congrats, Missy and Corinne!

A Champion of Childhood is someone instilled with the soaring spirit of childhood who rallies against rules that don’t exist while engaging in ruthless, senseless acts of silliness that undermine the slavery of Adultitis and its unadventurous version of adulthood. We like shining a light upon the most remarkable among us, holding them up as a dazzling example of what we should strive for in this epic battle against Adultitis. See more here.

Amen, sister.

Let’s hear it for being ridiculous.

It is official: making ugly treats is a foolproof way to annihilate Adultitis. Indeed, forgoing the stress that can come from trying to create a confection that might make Martha Stewart weep tears of joy is not nearly as fun as concocting something that would have her wailing and gnashing her teeth.

Although we have extolled the virtues of cooking up ugly cakes and cookies for some time, we had not actually undertaken the task — until now. We used the latest Small Rebellion, aka The Ugly Treat Initiative, as a fitting excuse to jump right in.

It’s easy to be intimidated by some of the giants who have come before us, with cakes so ugly they’d make Sloth from The Goonies recoil in horror. But engaging in some ugly treat frivolity needn’t be a burden. We went a simple route, which proved to be quick and easy without shortchanging any of the fun.

We started with a regular bag of chocolate chip cookie mix. Add eggs and butter and you’re off to the races. For the time being, everything appears normal.

Normal came to a screeching halt when we started to collect the ingredients that would ugly up our mild-mannered cookies. If you want to play at home, raid the cupboard for anything edible that has something to bring to the party: taste, texture, color. If you’re interested in eating your results — which is part of the fun — I recommend using things that are sweet or salty, but don’t be afraid to reach for combinations that may seem unorthodox. We threw a bunch of stuff in a bowl: Peeps, jelly beans, gummy worms, pretzels, cheese crackers, M&Ms, peanuts and Nerds.

This project proved to be a good way to recycle some Easter candy. I also pulled out some bacon bits, because of course, everything is better with bacon.

I also threw in some pickles, creating a combination that I am convinced will become all the rage in the foodie scene. (It’s the new chocolate and peanut butter!)

After plopping some of the prepared dough onto a greased cookie sheet, we just started placing our ingredients randomly on top. Lucy used some colorful sprinkles and Lucky Charms marshmallows to make this cookie magically delicious.

This is a great activity for little helpers, since there is no regard for aesthetics whatsoever. In fact, by watching them carefully, you can discover ways to make your cookies even uglier than you ever before imagined.

This Peep got impaled by a pretzel. No one said this was pretty, folks.

Then it was time to put our creations in the oven. One neat aspect of this approach is the experimental element. The little mad scientist in each of us was eager to see what sorts of results we’d get once the heat was applied.

The gummy worms melted very quickly and the Peeps started to balloon up like floater found in a lake on CSI.

Meanwhile, we decided to add some frosting to the show. A can of store-bought vanilla — quick and easy, baby — was mixed with food coloring. I can’t give you a specific recipe here as we gave Lucy full control over this part. I CAN say that she used all four colors and she used a LOT of it. Probably enough to exceed the most lenient FDA recommendations and give us all cancer. But it resulted in this nice putrid green color.

Pulling the cookies out of the oven is a big part of the fun. As you can see, the gummy worms melted into quite an unrecognizable mess, while the jelly beans and Dots oozed a little color into the cookies but maintained their shape

IN subsequent batches, we added the gummy worms later in the baking process, as seen here surrounding a pretzel covered in bacon (naturally).

This touching piece is entitled, “Peep Mourning Over Fallen Comrade.”

The fun doesn’t end when the baking does, my friend. Oh no, this is when you utilize your frosting and various accoutrements to take things to a whole new level. This is the time to turn things up to 11.

Sprinkles make a wonderful little garnish…

…and add the color that will make your cookies almost appear appetizing.

So that’s about it. The whole process takes less than an hour and is quite creatively gratifying. Rest assured, our first foray into ugly treat making will not be our last!

We’ll be formally posting some of the wonderful ugly treat contributions made by other mad scientists soon, but you can get a peek at some good ones over here. I hope all of these examples will inspire you to get your ugly on, resulting in lots of laughs and a good memory with some people you care about.

Some years this greatness is easier to achieve than others. Last year was a breeze. We played hooky as a family, savoring the early spring weather at the zoo. It was a VERY awesome day!

But this year (my 35th) was shaping up to be a real challenge. Jason was in the middle of a VERY busy run: six gigs in four different states in ten days. On my birthday, he was in San Antonio — bummer! I was also at the end of a cold that had been lingering for ten days, Ben’s teething was leaving me exhausted with a consistent run of middle of the night wake-ups, and I was on day five of an outbreak of some mysterious and annoyingly itchy hives.

Adultitis is right in the thick of this daily junk! It’s the troublesome new sound in the car, the annoying arrival of moles in your front yard, and the utility room light switch that suddenly stops working, leaving you to do the laundry in the dark. This is the “stuff” of Adultitis and most days, for most people, it wins.

To be honest, it looked as though Adultitis was going to win my birthday this year, and I was getting increasingly ticked off thinking about it.

So ticked, in fact, that I found myself wide awake at 4 a.m. I began checking email on my phone to pass the time (bad habit, I know). I was touched to find Jason’s VERY thoughtful and fun email that went out challenging everyone to do something fun to help me celebrate my birthday. Hmmm. What was I going to do to celebrate? My brainstorming ranged from lame to lamer to outright unrealistic…but I was trying, amidst the frustrating self-pressure.

As the day progressed, the comments and emails started pouring in, including a note from my parents telling me that they had ice cream for breakfast! It was AWESOME and overwhelming to read what everyone was doing. One woman even laid in a parking lot and rolled around, just to be silly. Another person wore mis-matched shoes. I was touched, and yet, I was feeling even more frustrated that my own birthday was turning out to be so boring. My obstacles were bumming me out BIG TIME: no husband, no car, cold weather. Adultitis was winning and I knew it. UGH!

Then, a combination of things came together. A perfect storm of epic happiness shook me out of the trenches.

Jenna came in with the most unbelievably yummy brownies. Our neighbors and dear friends came by with flowers and a card that said, “Do something today that makes people take out their camera phones.” Hmmm…a hint. Then (to my compete delight) Jason Face-timed me from the River Walk with the unbelievable surprise of being serenaded by a mariachi band singing Happy Birthday. Instant tears!! Then the doorbell rang and there were more flowers (this time from Jason). It was a bouquet of daisies and roses, my favorite combination! This day was starting to really turn around.

And it was just beginning!

I got a text that changed the course of events pretty quickly. My sister-in-law and partner-in-crime/BFF, Connie, got wind of the fact that Jason was in Texas and texted to ask what my dinner plans were. When I replied back “leftovers,” she insisted that she and my niece Kerrigan would be driving up (90 minutes each way on a school night!) to take me and the kiddos out.

I was giddy and speechless and in tears. Her thoughtfulness was overwhelming. I was ready for some memory-making fun!

Then I had a crazy “What if…”

[Backstory: A few weeks ago I had a funny image pop in my head that I couldn’t shake. Wouldn’t it be funny if a grown-up got pictures taken for their birthday (like little kids often do) with the big numbers of their birthday year? It would be reminiscent of the senior pictures where the subject is leaning up against the giant numbers representing the year of graduation. The idea of this made me laugh out loud and was something I thought would be totally silly and Adultitis-free!]

The following “what if” popped into my head: “What if we all went to get my pictures taken tonight?!” (Mind you, it was like 3PM at that moment.) Would any studio have an opening? Would the portrait people even DO that? Would I really have the guts to go through with this crazy idea?

Side note: You know something is a good idea when you are instantly filled with questions doubting it. (It’s a sign that Adultitis is hard at work.)

A handful of calls later, I was able to get the LAST slot of the day at JCPenny Portrait Studio. Brandon, the photographer, sounded curious and up for the playful challenge of my request. I was a bit disappointed when he told me that they didn’t have the BIG numbers (WHAT?! That was the WHOLE point!), but he reassured me that he had some other ideas that would be JUST as fun. I was convinced.

Four hours later, we were eating pretzels at the mall giggling like school girls recalling all of the fun that had just happened. Brandon was amazing! His playful spirit was another unexpected birthday gift that was icing on the cake. And what a fun experience to share with Connie and the kids.

So, a long set-up, I know. Thanks for patiently reading.

I present to you, my 35-year-old pictures.

Silly, fun and filled with memories of my BIG birthday comeback story.

Nice try, Adultitis! Better luck next year.

Wes Naman is a professional photographer. Like many professionals, he was a little burned out with the “professional” side of his work and needed a break.

So he grabbed some Scotch tape and got silly.

With the help of some open-minded friends, he used lots and lots of tape to wrench their faces into ridiculous positions. Then he asked them to try and remove the tape using only their facial muscles. It resulted in 33 photographs like the ones pictured above.

Which led to the project becoming a viral sensation, the attention of the Scotch brand itself, and an unlimited supply of rolls of tape for future projects. Perhaps a sweet advertising campaign is next.

Where do the best ideas come from?

Oftentimes, they come from play. I don’t care if you’re in a so-called “creative” field or not, the willingness to let go, be silly, and experiment with no expectation of outcome is like napalm for good ideas.

If you’re on the hunt for the next big thing, the idea that changes everything, or a solution to your most vexing problem, maybe you need to stop pressing so hard. Maybe you need a break.

Maybe you need to be a little less serious. And. Just. Play.

“We do not stop playing because we grow old. We grow old because we stop playing.”

Benjamin Franklin said that. Or maybe it was George Bernard Shaw or somebody else entirely; it seems the Internet can’t make up it’s mind. The sentiment is true, though. And as I like to remind people, grown-ups have the money, the skills, and the autonomy to take play to a level of awesome kids could only dream of.

Exhibit A: Nine guys, friends since high school, who have been engaged in an epic game of “Tag” for over 20 years.

It started as a way to have fun while they were in high school and it grew to be quite competitive. On the last day of school, Joe Tombari was stuck as the last player tagged as “It” and figured he was destined to spend the rest of his life with the label.

That is, until a reunion several years later rekindled talk of resurrecting the game. Even though the guys had grown-up, began careers, started families, and spread out across the country (one even became a priest), they concocted a brilliant way to keep the thrill alive. A Wall Street Journal article by Brian Dennehy describes the adaptation:

The game they play is fundamentally the same as the schoolyard version: One player is “It” until he tags someone else. But men in their 40s can’t easily chase each other around the playground, at least not without making people nervous, so this tag has a twist. There are no geographic restrictions and the game is live for the entire month of February. The last guy tagged stays “It” for the year.

That means players get tagged at work and in bed. They form alliances and fly around the country. Wives are enlisted as spies and assistants are ordered to bar players from the office.

The group even has an official “Tag Participation Agreement,” drafted by the lawyer in the group and signed by all. Of course, it includes a no “tag-back” clause, which prevents you from tagging the player who just tagged you.

The article goes on to explain some of the hijinks, including the time one guy was invited to check out a friend’s new Honda Accord. What he didn’t know was that his buddy Sean — the current “It” man — flew in from Seattle and was hiding out in the trunk of car and jumped out to tag him.

I love it. But what matters most is that Adultitis doesn’t.

Why not start a similar game of tag with some people in your life? High school friends, college roommates, family cousins, whoever. Is it silly? Sure. But it’s also an exhilarating way to fight Adultitis, and a terrific way to preserve friendships and stay connected.

Tag, you’re “It!”

Fact: it is impossible to have Adultitis while drawing with a marker that is almost six feet long.

The picture above is from an art exhibit called “Color Me _______” at the Indianapolis Museum of Contemporary Art. It is the brainchild of Andrew Neyer and Andy J. Miller. The artists invited attendees to become collaborators by adding the color to their work. Oh how fun that looks!

I think Crayola needs to make super-sized crayons and markers, stat. I wonder if I could fit a box of 64 in my garage…

I’ve written before that one of the BEST parts of being grown-up is having the ability and the know-how to take awesome things from childhood to a new level of awesomeness.

The sweet photos above? No, they were not created by some guy in a small plane or captured with the iPhone of a blimp pilot. They were taken by a camera attached to a kite.

Yes, a freaking kite. You know, that thing kids play with on windy days? In fact, Kite Aerial Photography is a real thing. Google it.

Imagine the possibilities! You could get some killer shots of your kids’ baseball or soccer games, your family reunion picnic, or your vacation to Florida.

But please note: you will not just want to duct tape your fancy camera to a kite. That’s something a kid would do, likely resulting in the garnishment of a decades’s worth of allowance money. Grown-ups, however, have come up with plans for rigs you can build to protect your baby at least a little bit.

You can check out 57 other awesome photos taken via kite on this post by Darren Rowse. Who knows, maybe it will inspire you to take kite flying to a new level of awesome.

One of the worst parts about growing up (I know, there are many): outgrowing your Big Wheel. Yes, upgrading to a two-wheeled bike is cool, but nothing beats the pure joy of operating an old school Big Wheel tricycle. Being that low to the ground is kind of like driving a Ferrari.

One of the best parts of being grown-up is having the ability and the know-how to take awesome things from childhood and making them even…awesomer.

I give you the grown-up version of the Big Wheel, with alloy V-Brake and levers, a plush custom seat, a pneumatic 26-inch front wheel and molded 14-inch plastic wheels to promote epic Power Slides. Plus tassels!

I don’t know about you, but I want one.

Let’s face it: few things are more ridiculous than building a cardboard castle for your cats.

I was curious to know the backstory behind this curious castle, as it promised to be a good one. So I asked her about it. Mindy told me that she had just moved from Philadelphia to Minnesota after ending a nine-year relationship. Although a “maker” by nature, she had little interest in creating much of anything in the six months prior to her move. There were many reasons, of course, but Mindy admitted that a big one was that she was sad that her life wasn’t turning out the way she hoped, which naturally sapped much of her creativity.

During this difficult time, Mindy’s cats provided a source of comfort for her. After unpacking everything in her new place, she had a bunch of sturdy boxes left over. Having built blanket-and-chair forts in her apartment, she was inspired to upgrade them to first class with a cardboard-fortified castle. Here’s Mindy in her own words:

“The project started as something for the cats, but as I got down to cutting apart boxes with an old pumpkin carving knife, it became a purely selfish project. I was making something again, taking the silly vision in my head and creating it out of cardboard. I went to the hardware store that night for the silver spray paint, and I was so excited that I would have painted it outside in the dark that night if my mom hadn’t pointed out the dew would ruin the cardboard. I got up two hours early the next morning so that I could get to work, and I giggled like a loon the whole time. I was happy, just so happy to be making something that ridiculous.

The shield, which I’m quite proud of, was made out of a fan from the Walker Art Center’s Cat Video Festival the week before.

Making that silly cat castle was a turning point in my year, because it unclogged the log jam of creativity for me, unleashing a wave of project starts. I didn’t even care if the cats used it (which they do, now that the paint smell is gone), I was just happy to have made something. I think the key was the silliness of the project; at the same time I was also painting and setting up my office, but that didn’t make me nearly as happy.”

Any more doubts about the power (and importance) of doing ridiculous things?

If you’re in any sort of a slump, it might be time for a Small Rebellion.

Start with something ridiculous.

“That sensation is absolutely one of the most extraordinarily joyous sensations that a person will ever experience.” –Bill Martinelli, The Skipper (now known as Skip Martin)

I gotta be honest, even though it’s been a while since I’ve been skipping, it’s probably in the top five, for sure. It IS hard not to feel joyous when you are skipping! And I love how he made a business out of skipping. But this is the quote I related to most:

“We started running, and I hated it immediately, like I always did.”

Skipping. The alternative holiday weight-melting activity for Adultitis-fighting anti-runners.

Ok, so how awesome is this…a Superhero Fort Kit! Complete with sheets! Clamps! Glow sticks! The best thing is that you can make it yourself and then make the MONTH of a kid. (If you can dare to part with it, that is. Better make two.)

The ideas and photos come from the fun and awesome Meg + Andy, as does this handy list of what you need to make your own Superhero Fort Kit:

• 2 Twin sheets: ARC for about $2 each
• Ties on the Sheet: old XL T-shirt
• Rope: Hobby lobby for about $2
• Flash Light: Dollar Store $1
• Clamps: Dollar Store $1
• Glow Sticks: Dollar Store $1
• Clothes Pins: Dollar Store $1
• Suction Cups: Dollar Store $1
• Lightning Bolt bag: Some cheap gray fabric, yellow felt $2

Add this sweet DIY superhero cape and you’ll have to start calling yourself Lucius.

The zine presents stories of courage and creativity sourced from people living, working, being courageously creative and changing themselves and others in our community. Their writers come from diverse backgrounds and all walks of life — they are small business owners, state employees, corporate CEOs, non-profit founders and volunteers, professionals, scientists, sociologists, artists, activists, mothers and fathers, and friends.

This month, the theme was Play, and we were honored to contribute a little somethin’ somethin’ to the project. Here’s a synopsis of the December issue:

Cure your Adultitis with this issue of Courageous Creativity! Discover, as the National Institute of Play suggests, how play woven into the fabric of social practices will dramatically transform our personal health, our relationships, the education we provide our children, and the innovative capacity of our corporations and organizations. Yes, all this with play, including in what appear to be “grave” situations or problems!

Cool, cool stuff. It’s well worth a gander, and you can get the PDF for free here and peruse the back issues here. Check it out and immerse yourself in a wee bit of wonderfulness!

I claim as a badge of honor that not one of the figures in my collection are in good enough condition to fetch more than a few pennies on eBay. They are a much-loved relic of my childhood.

I will not pretend to have had all of them, although I had pretty close to most of them. This was thanks in large part to my parents, who bravely navigated the rows and rows of tightly-packed toy store shelves, looking for ones I didn’t own. Scanning each row of blister packs was a real pain. You had to sneak your arm between the rows of figures and use your fingers to flick each box just enough to reveal the contents of the one behind it. Repeat with each one on the peg hook until you get to the end, preparing yourself for cleaning up the boxes that had inevitably fallen off the hook, regardless of how careful you had been.

Like I said, a real pain.

And this, more than anything else, is how I know my parents loved me.

Sweet Star Wars action figure portrait is from ratherchildish.

Found this on the lovely Pinterest. Plain-colored noodles be gone! Here’s how you do it:

1. Cook spaghetti noodles, drain and cool.
2. Fill a gallon Ziplock bag one quarter of the way with water. Add food coloring to the water.
3. Add part of cooked spaghetti and mix around in the ziplock bag until noodles change color.
4. Drain, repeat with other colors. Place the noodles in separate bowls.

To keep abreast of all of the other stuff we find on Pinterest, you should follow me.

Photo by Henry Hargreaves