Category: Uncategorized

  • Does This Outfit Make Our Marriage Look Fun?

    Ruts are the moldy places where Adultitis likes to fester.

    Ruts are merely routines that stopped being re-evaluated.  

    They can show up anywhere in our lives, but they’re most common in our relationships. Despite the best intentions, every relationship can get stale.

    But no relationship has to stay that way.

    All summer long, my wife and youngest daughter dedicated themselves to watering the decorative flowers around our house. It wasn’t always convenient, but those flowers lasted the entire summer, and we enjoyed their beauty.

    Our relationships are like those flowers. 

    How long do you expect a plant to last if you don’t water it?

    Regular date nights are one way Kim and I water our marriage. It takes effort, money, and time, especially with kids in the house. When life is busy, it’s easy to skip one, or two, or three…

    When Kim and I hear people complain about how busy they are or how out of alignment they are with their spouse, a lack of regular date nights is almost guaranteed. Even after twenty-six years, I know our relationship will wither if we let date nights slip. 

    Coasting doesn’t cut it.

    If you can’t be bothered to prioritize your relationship, how long do you expect it to last?

    The early days of a relationship and marriage are easier, when everything is fresh and exciting. It gets harder as the years add up, careers develop, and kids enter the mix. 

    When we had babies, we doubled down on date nights. It has required creativity and the humility to ask for and accept help from others. And yes, it often costs money, though a four-star restaurant isn’t necessary. A Subway sandwich and a walk in the park work just fine. 

    We’ve always appreciated the sentiment that you can either pay for a date night or a therapist. (Hint: Date nights are cheaper — and let’s not talk about how expensive divorces can be.)

    As I mentioned, at the beginning of a relationship, you barely have to make any effort. Everything is new and electrifying, and you want to spend as much time together as possible. Eventually, those intoxicating feelings fade, routine sets in, and yes, sometimes ruts do, too. 

    A rut isn’t a sign that you’ve done anything wrong. 

    But it is a red flag. 🚩

    It’s a sign you need a little watering. 

    If things are feeling dry, I challenge you to try a Goodwill date.

    Cody Andrews and his girlfriend, Paula Williams, originated it in 2015. They came up with the idea of picking out surprise outfits for each other at a thrift store and wearing them in public. Full-time students at the time, they set ground rules: a $10 budget and gender-appropriate clothes, and committed to not only wearing the outfit their partner selected, but also not telling people it was a joke.

    “As we waited [for a table], literally 360 degrees of stares were happening,” Andrews recalled to ABC News. “People really couldn’t comprehend us…their facial expressions ranged from disgust to the highest level of confusion.”

    “Overall though, the vast majority of people we saw ended up with a smile on their face, which is exactly what we wanted,” he added.

    The idea went viral after they posted a photo on Facebook. Since then, countless couples and groups of friends have followed suit. 

    Josh Woods tried a Goodwill date with his wife. I love the points he made on his blog: “The Goodwill Date gets you out of your comfort zone so much to the point that you don’t care what other people think. This makes room for a couple of things. First, you and your significant other are in this together, so it somehow makes you feel closer. And since you are in it together, you focus more on each other. Another great thing is that you laugh. Man, we laughed so much. It’s hard to have a bad date when you’re laughing.”

    As you get older, there may be fewer things you can do than when you were younger. 

    Laughing is not one of them. 

    Laughter makes relationships last.

    Ruts can’t withstand laughter. 

    Neither can Adultitis. 

    If you want your relationship to stay alive, water it with regular date nights.

    If you want those dates to be great, fertilize them with laughter. 

    ☕ What will you do this week to water a relationship that’s grown dry?

  • Somebody’s Birthday

    Happy birthday!

    Odds are, at least a few people reading this are celebrating a birthday today.

    So to you, I say again, happy birthday! 🎂

    Even if today isn’t your special day, you can still celebrate, as a guy I met while speaking in Canada reminded me. Steve shared that he once ordered a birthday cake from a bakery with the words “Somebody’s Birthday” scripted out in frosting. He reasoned that somewhere in the world, it was somebody’s birthday.

    No lies detected.

    If you’ve ever purchased one of our Celebrate Everything calendars, you know that it’s filled with fun, ridiculous, and completely real holidays. You also know that we leave one day a month blank, so you can make up your own holiday. 

    I often wonder if anyone actually does. 

    Just as I wonder if anyone reading this will actually order a cake with the words “Somebody’s Birthday” on it.

    Both are examples of resisting what’s supposed to be true. 

    You’re not supposed to make up your own holidays. 

    You are supposed to know the person you order a birthday cake for. 

    Both are rules that don’t exist, and we let many such “rules” dictate the direction of our lives. The weird thing is when we’re the ones who made the rule in the first place. 

    We accidentally create rules that don’t exist all the time. If you do something a certain way a few times in a row — even if it wasn’t particularly intentional — it becomes a routine, which often turns into a rule. Do it long enough, and you might forget you were the one who originated the rule. It simply becomes the way we do things around here. 

    Routines can be useful, and they can easily become ruts. 

    And ruts are the moldy places where Adultitis likes to grow. 

    It helps to re-examine our routines once in a while, looking for signs of Adultitis. Otherwise, we’re liable to throw away something good when we only needed to change the routine. 

    Instead of abandoning your weight loss goal, maybe you just need to mix up your workout routine.

    Instead of breaking that relationship, maybe you just need to break the monotony that’s made it stale. 

    Instead of closing the business, maybe you just need to change how you market it.

    I’m taking my own advice with this year’s Celebrate Everything calendar. We made the first one in 2015, so the 2027 edition is lucky number 13. That’s a long time to do anything, and the routine is burning us out. Rather than abandon the calendar altogether, we decided to change up the routine.

    Thus begins The Great Calendar Experiment. 

    First, we’re only taking orders for seventeen days. That’s it. However many calendars are reserved is how many we’ll print. This takes the guesswork out of figuring out how many to order. It also means we can fulfill all the orders in a few days from our garage, so I don’t have to lug thousands of calendars downstairs for storage and future fulfillment. (Selfishly, I am most excited about this part of the plan.)

    The next wrinkle is that we’re increasing the calendar price by a dollar each day. The best deal we’re offering is on day one. They go on sale on October 15th for just $15 each. 

    On the 16th, it’s $16 apiece.

    It goes up each day until October 30th, when calendars are $30, our normal price. 

    Will this work? Will we sell more calendars than last year or less?

    Who knows?

    What I do know is that doing things the way they’ve always been done is a rule that doesn’t exist. 

    This is different, feels fun, and has us excited about talking about the calendar again.

    I wanted to give you a heads up so you can make plans to get yours.

    And when you encounter the monthly square with the invitation to make up your own holiday, don’t worry if nothing immediately comes to mind.

    Go ahead and throw some candles on a cake and sing somebody a happy birthday.

    Because that day is most definitely somebody’s birthday.

    ☕ Do you have any “unofficial” holidays you or loved ones celebrate?

  • Ginormously Fun Goals

    Years ago, my wife shared a story about a guy named Steve who was attempting to grow the world’s largest pumpkin. Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be, as a half-inch crack at the base of his 1,800-pound behemoth disqualified him from the Giant Pumpkin Grower’s annual weigh-off. (The current world record for heaviest pumpkin is just over 2,819 pounds!)

    The image of this full-grown man with his oversized pumpkin, pursuing a ginormously fun goal, remains etched in my memory. And there is something magically childlike about seeing a pumpkin that big.

    Most goals that we set for ourselves are pretty serious. Getting out of debt. Achieving a financial milestone. Growing a business. Earning a degree. Losing weight. Recovering from an injury. 

    Of course, these are all very good things. Essential even.

    But nobody said every goal must be sensible.

    Some goals can exist simply because they’d be fun to attempt. Because they would lead us somewhere new, give us a reason to pay closer attention, or leave us with stories we’ll still be telling years from now.

    That’s a ginormously fun goal.

    My friend Kyle celebrated turning 30 by building a giant 16-foot Viking ship out of cardboard that he burned with friends as a symbolic farewell to his twenties. It went viral, so he spent two and a half years building an even bigger one to carry more than 20,000 cards he collected from people all over the world who wanted to let go of their past regrets, mistakes, heartaches, and losses.

    My wife once set a goal of getting her picture taken with 101 mascots, which she loosely defined as a life-sized statue or anyone dressed in a costume. It took her several years, and I made a book that documented her accomplishment.

    That pursuit didn’t change the world or earn her a Nobel Peace Prize. But paging through the book brings back lots of wonderful memories and laughter from sharing the adventure with her.

    A ginormously fun goal might seem pointless at first glance. 

    But a ginormously fun goal doesn’t need to make you richer, thinner, smarter, or more impressive. Its value comes from the experiences, relationships, discoveries, and stories you collect while pursuing it.

    Bake 52 different kinds of bread, pie, or cookies in one year.

    Read one book originally published in every decade from the 1920s to today.

    Eat at 50 independent diners, supper clubs, or fish fries—and rank the best pie, fries, and décor.

    Photograph yourself beside 50 giant roadside objects: enormous fish, dinosaurs, chairs, doughnuts, and balls of twine all count.

    Those more serious goals? If we’re honest, we often make them because we think achieving them will make us happy. And maybe they can.

    But the truth is that we need so little to be happy. 

    Happiness doesn’t come from things, and it doesn’t come from collecting accomplishments. 

    Happiness comes from being fully alive.

    And that, my friend, is the point of a ginormously fun goal. It is a device for becoming more curious, connected, adventurous, and alive along the way.

    A ginormously fun goal may appear completely unnecessary.

    But the adventure it inspires is not.

    ☕ Do you currently have — or have you ever completed — a ginormously fun goal?

  • There’s Still Time to Go Bananas

    I love fall, but I’m not ready for summer to be over. 

    The problem is, I’m not sure it is.

    I know kids are back in school, which is a convenient but not universal guidepost. But when exactly is the first day of fall?

    Valentine’s Day. St. Patrick’s Day. Christmas. We all know the dates of those holidays. They’re burned into our memory. Knowing when Cinco de Mayo is even makes you feel smart and proud that you sorta kinda almost know how to speak Spanish. 

    Informally, I often think of the first day of spring as the first day I see a robin. By that logic, is the first day of fall the first day I see a Spirit Halloween store?

    Our family was recently talking about the start of fall, and my daughter Lucy confidently declared it was September 1st. That didn’t sound right to me — I always thought it was one of those “roving” holidays, like Easter, Thanksgiving, and Opening Day in baseball. 

    So I looked it up. It didn’t take long to understand why there’s so much confusion. 

    As I suspected, like Easter, the first day of fall depends on the specific position of objects in space. (Naturally?) The moon determines Easter, and the sun dictates the beginning of fall, which is when it aligns directly over the equator and varies from year to year. 

    But that’s not the only reason for confusion. It’s exacerbated by the fact that there are TWO definitions of fall.

    You see, I just described “Astronomical Fall.” There’s also “Meteorological Fall,” a fixed three-month period that makes it easy to track climate and weather data. It starts on September 1 and runs through November 30. 

    So Lucy was right after all. Sort of.

    If there are already two definitions, might I suggest a third as the day Starbucks starts pimping their Pumpkin Spice Latte?

    According to The Old Farmer’s Almanac, the astronomical first day of fall in 2026 is Tuesday, September 22, at 8:04 p.m. EDT (7:04 p.m. CDT)

    Ha! There it is! For those not ready for summer to be over, you are validated! It’s not!

    By the way, isn’t it ironic how a holiday with a date no one knows actually begins at a specific minute?

    If you are like me and are not yet ready for summer to be over, might I suggest one last hurrah?

    Go bananas and build the ultimate banana split.

    It’s hard to imagine a food that feels more like summer than a banana split. (Downing one mid-February just feels sad.) It’s also hard to imagine a food that brings more joy than a banana split. Slide one in front of anyone and a smile is sure to follow.

    The banana split must have been invented by a child – or someone very childlike* – because children show no restraint. They care not one whit about calories. Three flavors of ice cream, because that’s superior to two and three times better than one. Drench everything with rivers of chocolate and mounds of strawberries. Pile up that whipped cream as high as it will go. Throw on a cherry for good measure – make it two because, why not? – and let it rain with sprinkles.

    This is a metaphor for how kids live life: Big. Bold. Generous. Colorful. And a little ridiculous.

    A pretty good definition of summer, too, if I do say so. 

    Unfortunately, as we grow older and Adultitis settles in, we often do the opposite. We play small. We become more restrained, more reserved, less willing to take risks, less colorful, and, unfortunately, less open to joy. 

    Slowly but surely, our zest for life fades as the proverbial leaves fall from our tree. 

    This need not be our fate, however. We can dream big again. We can be bold, say yes with abandon, and risk biting off more than we can chew. We might have to be willing to look silly, but we can renew our enthusiasm and rekindle the true joy of living that came so easily to us as children.

    Can making a banana split achieve all of that? 

    Perhaps not, but it’s a good place to start.

    If you need to, feel free to sprinkle on a little pumpkin spice. 

    ☕ Are you still hanging on to summer, or happy for fall to arrive?

  • “Half-Full or Half-Empty?” is the Wrong Question

    Forget about liberal and conservative; if you really want to stir the pot, call someone a pessimist.

    I recently shared the benefits of being optimistic, and the response it generated was fascinating. I enjoyed these creative takes:

    “The glass is always full… don’t forget about the air inside.”

    “Not only is the glass half-empty; it’s the wrong beverage!!”

    “It doesn’t matter if the glass is half-full or half-empty; the glass is refillable.”

    And then there’s this one from an engineer: “A pessimist sees the container as half-empty; an optimist sees it as half-full. An engineer sees that the container is twice the size that is needed.”

    It turns out that the labels “optimism” and “pessimism” are like the concept of “life balance” — everyone has a different definition of what it looks like, and a strong opinion of whether it’s possible at all.

    No one likes to admit they are a pessimist. So they call themselves realists instead. In my experience, self-proclaimed “realists” are quite good at telling you why something might not work, but less effective at sharing examples of how it might go better than expected.

    To be fair, I’ve always been suspicious of people who seem almost too optimistic, in the Lego Movie’s “Everything is Awesome” sort of way. A vital component of creativity is the ability to look for problems, then work to find positive solutions.

    The hidden danger of optimism is letting your assumption that everything will work out prevent you from trying to get better. On the other hand, pessimism feels like a synonym for Adultitis, so I can see the vitriol against it as a label. 

    So let’s put labels aside in favor of a few things that are really real:

    1. “Optimist” and “idiot” are not synonyms.
    2. Being an optimist does not preclude one from identifying weaknesses and potential roadblocks.
    3. Seeing a flaw in a plan or identifying a reason why something might not work doesn’t make you a pessimist.
    4. It is not “realistic” to assume a plan will work out without any hiccups, setbacks, or wrong turns.
    5. It’s also not “realistic” to assume there will only be hiccups, setbacks, and wrong turns.

    We should all strive to be realists. But a true realist would acknowledge that things might go worse than we hoped, and they may also go better than expected. Failing to imagine a successful outcome or a better way forward is a lack of hope and a form of pride, believing one can see all possible scenarios.

    It’s easy to get lost in the weeds, arguing over labels and definitions, and justifying why our point of view is best. Most importantly, whether you label your worldview as optimistic, pessimistic, or realistic…is it helping?

    Is it moving you forward, or getting you to stop?

    When optimism becomes a form of laziness that believes everything will be fine without you having to put in any effort whatsoever, that’s a problem.

    Equally troublesome is when pessimism turns you into not just someone who sees the glass half empty, but a person who gives up and encourages others to give up, too.

    Worst of all is giving ourselves the label “realist” to sound smart while providing cover for throwing in the towel.

    Screw the labels. Here’s the question that matters: what do you do when you uncover a reason your plan might not work or encounter a setback that threatens defeat?

    What then?

    If you stop, that’s a problem.

    Is it half full, or half empty? Our default tendency to assume the best or the worst in a given situation might be out of our control.

    But that matters less than whether we let it make us stop or keep moving forward.

    Don’t make being realistic the same as giving up. 

    ☕ When was a time you refused to give up and transformed a setback or a potential pitfall into a win?

  • Ode to the Paper Airplane

    Yesterday, August 8th, was Escape Adulthood Day. You won’t find it on any calendar, unless it’s a Celebrate Everything calendar (the 2027 edition is coming soon!) We invented it because the idea that you can’t make up your own holidays is a rule that doesn’t exist. It coincides with the launch of our website and the publication of the first Kim & Jason comic strip.

    Despite our business evolving in many ways over the years, the paper airplane remains our symbol.

    I can’t think of anything more appropriate.

    From watching birds to the development of the airplane to the exploration of outer space, flight has always been a source of wonder for mankind, and the paper airplane embodies it.

    Imagine a squadron of paper airplanes encircling a classroom or cubicle farm, representing an escape from the tyranny of Adultitis, especially if the paper is a test, homework, or a bank statement. It becomes a small rebellion against taking oneself too seriously.

    Although seemingly silly, rudimentary, and unimportant, a paper airplane represents powerful truths. In many ways, the paper airplane is the ultimate reminder.

    The paper airplane reminds us that with a little imagination, we can rise above our circumstances, challenges, and limitations.

    The paper airplane reminds us that if we don’t like how things are, we have the power to change them.

    The paper airplane reminds us that even basic, boring, and unremarkable things can be transformed into something interesting and fun.

    The paper airplane reminds us that although we might want to crumple up and throw away the things that bring us pain, the more rebellious act is not destruction but turning them into something uplifting.

    Then there’s this peculiar quality about paper airplanes.

    Even children can make one, and they are more inclined to do so than any grown-up. But adults have the ability and skill to optimize them to become well-engineered flying machines. The paper airplane reminds us that a successful life requires both a childlike spirit AND the knowledge and maturity of adulthood.

    The paper airplane represents freedom, reminding us that we can’t control life’s winds, and that the truest freedom comes when we surrender to the mighty winds of the Holy Spirit.

    The whimsical, unpredictable flight path of a paper airplane adds a magical spark of serendipity to life.

    At its core, the paper airplane reminds us that we can fashion what we have — our circumstances, resources, talents — into something better.

    And we don’t need anything we don’t already have.

    We just need to be willing to change.

    ☕ What reminder from the paper airplane did you most need to hear?

  • Donuts & Deodorant

    Every single airplane was grounded by the storms surrounding the Dallas-Fort Worth airport.

    I wasn’t worried.

    Kim and I had a three-hour layover in Detroit. Plenty of cushion!

    We sat on the plane for over an hour before the storm passed. Then the pilot came on to tell us that our fuel tanks were too hot — is that bad? That sounds bad… — and that we had to return to the gate to have them checked. 

    We deplaned, re-boarded, and eventually made it to Detroit.

    Four hours late.

    The rest of the night became a cavalcade of crushed hopes. 

    At least we’ve been automatically re-booked…for a flight the next afternoon.

    At least the airline will cover our hotel…if we wait behind 137 people in the virtual customer service queue.

    At least we could smother our sorrows with Detroit-style pizza…except the restaurant had closed ten minutes earlier.

    At least McDonald’s had frozen Cokes…except the machine was broken.

    Good thing we’d checked our carry-on to avoid dragging it through the airport. Unfortunately, that also meant no toiletries and no clean clothes.

    Near midnight, we finally reached the Marriott, only to discover that the “last room” we’d booked might not actually exist. After fifteen painful minutes of watching two exhausted employees stare blankly and motionlessly at their computers as though decoding an alien language, we were finally handed two toothbrushes that I swear each only had a single row of bristles and, most importantly, a room key.

    To a room with a broken air conditioner blowing lukewarm air at full blast.

    Congratulations, level Hell has been unlocked.

    Ah, the glamour of travel. 

    The night before, after my speech, one attendee paid me perhaps the greatest compliment I’ve ever received by comparing me to G.K. Chesterton. I thanked him and shared one of my favorite Chesterton quotes:

    “An adventure is only an inconvenience rightly considered. An inconvenience is only an adventure wrongly considered.”

    Those words echoed in my ears as we endured our day from hell. Because that’s really all it was. 

    Inconvenient.

    We saw parents trying to entertain exhausted toddlers. A couple from India who had already been traveling for twenty hours missed their flight home. We were fortunate that our delay happened after my speaking engagement rather than before. Nothing to reschedule and no panic required.

    But perspective is hard when you’re busy collecting tiny paper cuts of disappointment.

    Pithy quotes make wisdom sound easy. It isn’t.

    But it is a choice.

    It took every ounce of gumption to reframe our inconvenience as an adventure.

    It didn’t help that the hotel breakfast was picked over.

    But our quest for deodorant ended in victory when we found the last overpriced stick on the shelf at a nearby gas station. We celebrated with slightly stale Krispy Kreme donuts and a few ridiculous selfies that lifted our spirits. Who knew donuts and deodorant could be so good for the soul?

    Instead of hanging out in our lukewarm hotel room, Kim and I spent the morning in the cool air conditioning of a nearby smoothie shop.

    A smoothie never tasted so good.

    While we were discussing a book we’d been reading, a young woman asked to borrow our phone charger. She turned out to be an artist who also worked as a chef. She showed us her work, and it was terrific. I could tell she was a hard worker and had a ton of potential. I signed a copy of The Penguin Who Flew from my bag and gave it to her as we walked out the door.

    Who knows? Maybe the whole reason for the delay was so we’d meet her. Maybe the encouragement we offered was exactly what she needed.

    Meanwhile, the book Kim and I were discussing over smoothies sparked the idea for The Collector Club, which just launched with over 100 collectors.

    God probably could have accomplished all of these things more efficiently. Perhaps we’d have arrived at the same ideas anyway. Or maybe there are dozens of reasons for the delay that have yet to be revealed, or my bird brain will never understand.

    At the very least, it gave me something to write about.

    I’ve said many times that we can’t always control what happens to us, but we can always choose our response.

    Inconvenience or adventure?

    A simple choice, but not an easy one.

    It’s a choice that changes everything.

    The great adventure continues.

    ☕ Do you have a travel inconvenience that turned into a grand adventure?

  • How Will I Know I’ve Made It?

    Twenty-five years ago, before kids, when Kim and I were living on Hamburger Helper and couldn’t afford to run the air conditioning in our apartment, I made a list.

    It answered one question:

    How will I know that I’ve made it?

    1. I am doing what I love. (That was the one I could already check, as I was spending all of my time making art and building a business I was passionate about.)
    2. The business is supporting us. (This proved to be harder than I anticipated and took a full five years to materialize.)
    3. We have a cool office. (I dreamed of a water view, but frankly, any upgrade from the bedroom of a sweltering apartment would have qualified.)
    4. Paying Jenna. (After years of her volunteering because she believed in us, actually being able to pay her was a milestone that often felt impossibly far away.)
    5. Own a home. (Speaking of impossibly far away, affording a mortgage felt like it was in another solar system.)
    6. Have kids. (Not only was starting a family not financially viable in the early days, but it’s also not something completely within our control. Once we decided to go for it, it took more than a year before we finally conceived.)

    I felt like I was already a success for deciding to chase the dream in the first place, but there was no doubt about it; achieving these six things would serve as conclusive evidence that I had made it. Why, I’d feel like the richest man alive!

    It took eight years to finally do it. Although technically, adding the “s” to “kids” would take eleven.

    Of course, all along the way, Adultitis whispered that it was impossible. That I was foolish to even try. That I was wasting my time.

    Once they all came true, Adultitis moved the goalpost, like it always does.

    It tells us we won’t be successful until we get a raise, earn the promotion, eclipse a certain income, win this award, work for that company, or become a bestseller. 

    Adultitis says success is never enough.

    When I introduced The Collector Club a few weeks ago, I honestly didn’t know if five people would join.

    We crossed that threshold in fourteen minutes.

    Today we’re almost to eighty.

    That’s eighty homes where a surprise print and a little dose of wonder will arrive each month.

    One membership became a gift for a friend. Another for a grandson. One lady signed up twice; once for herself, the other is destined as Christmas gifts.

    Twenty-five-year-old Jason, sweating in that apartment and eating Hamburger Helper, would think eighty collectors sounded completely impossible. He’d probably think I’d made it.

    Adultitis disagrees.

    “Yeah…but what about one hundred?”

    It never lets us enjoy the miracle that’s already happening.

    What about you?

    What miracles in your life does Adultitis want you to take for granted?

    How amazed would twenty-five-year-old you be by the life you’re living today?

    Adultitis doesn’t want you to answer that question.

    It wants you looking over the next hill instead.

    Sometimes “enough” is right where we’re standing.

    P.S. If you’ve been watching from the sidelines wondering if you should become one of the Founding Collectors, this is your week. Join us by July 31, and you’ll receive the inaugural print (#CC-001) and forever be able to say, “I was there when it began.” There will only ever be one first edition.

    ☕ What miracles in your life does Adultitis want you to take for granted?

  • The Art of Collecting

    I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Adults are ruining everything.

    Exhibit A is the art of collecting.

    Take baseball cards. At the risk of sounding like Grandpa Simpson, when I was a kid, packs cost fifty cents and came with fifteen cards. My brothers and I rode our bikes to the card shop and spent our allowance chasing the last card we needed to complete a set. Every pack felt like an adventure. Occasionally, we’d save up for a whole box or get one for Christmas.

    Then adults took over.

    Collecting stopped being about the fun of trading with friends and became all about rare inserts and making money.

    I’d love to share the hobby with my sports-loving son, but it’s barely recognizable. Back then, a $15 box held 36 packs—540 cards. Adjusted for inflation, that’s about $40 today.

    Now, a box costs around $70 and contains just six packs, for a total of 72 cards. The selling point isn’t the cards themselves—it’s the chance to find autographs, relics, patch cards, and color parallels (whatever those are). It even warns that special insert packs may contain fewer cards.

    Cool, cool. 

    Sorry, son, no baseball cards for you. Dad has a mortgage to pay.

    I don’t begrudge people who treat baseball cards as an investment strategy; I just wish there were still an option for those who want to collect them for fun.

    For kids, that’s the whole point, and it always has been.

    We recently hosted a virtual Ice Cream Social in The Wonderground. We had an energetic discussion about the collections we had as kids. Things like stickers, stamps, bottle caps, tigers, tractors, unicorns, Matchbox cars, and Garbage Pail Kids were brought up. (You had to be there for Kim’s explanation of her empty Tic Tac box collection.)

    The subjects were diverse, but the common denominator was FUN. 

    Until adults proceed to ruin it.

    Believe me, Adultitis is all over the art world, too. I created Wondernite to help counteract the stuffy galleries, pretentious gatekeepers, and astronomical prices that are more about reflecting status than the quality of the work. 

    I believe art collecting should be fun and accessible to everyone. Sure, I sell original paintings, but I consider anyone who has ever owned a print, calendar, or even a sticker with my art on it as an art collector.

    That’s what inspired the creation of The Collector Club, which is open to Founding Collectors who want to secure the very first release. I wanted to make it affordable and fun. And there’s little more fun than receiving a surprise in the mail every month. I can’t wait to see the diverse and creative ways people will store, display, and enjoy their collection. If you like my art, I hope you’ll check it out, but more than that, I want to offer a warning and some encouragement.

    Collecting as an investment strategy or a way to show off can invite Adultitis to take over.

    These days, I collect Funko Pop figures. I took my stand against Adultitis early on. Retired ones can go for a pretty penny, but I specifically remove mine from their boxes and throw the boxes away (gasp!) because I collect them for FUN, not a retirement strategy. 

    Again, there’s nothing wrong with collecting things with the intent of making money. I just want to remind you that it’s not the only reason to collect something. 

    You’re still allowed to collect things just for fun!

    I hope you are already collecting something that brings you joy, even — especially? — if it’s nerdy, weird, or completely devoid of any possible commercial gain. If not, maybe today is an opportunity to resume a collection from your childhood. 

    Remember, the best part about collections is the connections we make with others.

    Making a trade with a fellow collector and admiring one another’s favorite pieces.

    A parent keeping an eye out on their travels for the thing their child is missing.

    The celebratory joy of finally finding that long-sought-after treasure with your spouse at the out-of-the-way antique store.

    The conversation with a person elated that an important possession from a late relative is finding new life with someone who will appreciate it just as much.

    The crazy stories you can tell about how you secured your rarest item.

    The memories you make in sharing your collection with grandchildren.

    A one-of-a-kind gift from a friend who said, “I saw this and thought of you.”

    Collecting anything for the love of it is extremely anti-Adultitis behavior. 

    Those stories, connections, and memories we accumulate along the way are the best collection of all.

    ☕ What do you still collect?

  • Collector Club Resources

    Attention all members of The Collector Club! There are nearly as many ways to store, display, and enjoy your collection as there are collectors! (Adultitis Fighters tend to be a very creative bunch.)

    We love these beautiful self-standing acrylic magnet frames, and how easy it is to swap artwork to match your mood or season. Plus, they are two-sided so you can display them on a countertop or island!

    Below are additional resources we recommend. (We get a small commission from purchases, so thank you!) If you have any other tools we should add to the list, let us know!

    Additional Options to Consider…

    Scrapbook page by Kim Kotecki.