I can’t seem to grow up. There is some radical, rogue chemical in my thick skull that leads me to make decisions that ensure I maintain the maturity level of a kindergartener. I love this chemical. I hate this chemical. Everyone around me is getting married, launching careers, making plans, discussing serious issues that get printed on the front page of the New York Times, and generally making me feel extremely bored, small and inadequate. Where did Paper Ball go?

Paper Ball is a game I created with my best friend growing up. It’s a pretty simple game. Grab a paper bag (the size your mother used to pack your lunch), squash it into a small spherical shape, toss it in the air, and then keep it in the air by hitting it with any part of your body as you pass it to whomever is playing with you. Congratulations, you are playing Paper Ball! Basically Hacky Sack, but much easier, because the ball is bigger, you can use your arms, and bounces are playable. Of course bounces are somewhat hard to come by, but you’re allowed to adapt the ball in any imaginable fashion in order to increase the balls bounceability — my favorite method involved placing the balled-up bag inside a plastic bag (big Ziplocs worked best), blowing it full of air, and taping it shut. Paper Ball: a simple game of cooperation, played by a couple wide-eyed kids who were willing to look like idiots running after a paper bag, because it was really, really fucking fun.

When I look at the front page of the New York Times I have three distinct reactions:  1) I’m sure I’m supposed to know what these people are so excited about. 2) I’m sure whatever it is, it’s not that fun. 3) I’m sure none of this would have happened if they had just been playing Paper Ball. And when I say “none of this”, I really do mean “none of this”: none of the bad stuff and none of the good stuff as well… nothing at all… jack freagin’ squat. It’s a thought that’s equally comical, comforting, and horrible at the same time; it’s a thought that’s just like me.

If you know me, you may not want to admit this, but somewhere deep inside you probably recognize that I can sniff out your bullshit a mile away. I’m rather smart for a person who is factually barren. Do I remind you of anyone? How about your kids, or, if you don’t have any, the kid in the theater who yelled out to his mom that the play was boring (you know, because it actually was)? I know you will protest that you are observant as well. I’m sure you are, but even you must admit that you are spending your time developing other skills: life skills, career skills, social skills. You are gathering facts, and the facts seem to tell you that Shakespeare is a great playwright, Sir Laurence Olivier is a great actor, and Hamlet is a great evening of entertainment. Are you really prepared to abandon all that knowledge and just react? Do you even want to? I doubt it, and I mostly doubt it because, unlike me, you wouldn’t rather be playing Paper Ball.

Have I made you mad? Don’t worry. You are WAY better than me, and I often dream of being just like you! You are on your way to big success, big failure, and big everything in between!  I’m on my way to big NOT ON MY WAY, because I can’t seem to understand why anyone is on their way in the first place!

A very observant friend of mine recently told me that I occasionally (or, maybe, all the time - I forget exactly how she put it) make assumptions about people and, in so doing, sell them short. Perhaps this little piece proves to be one of those times. After all, I am sitting here typing massive generalizations about you, my readers, who may well be as varied as apples and whatever really is the opposite of apples (certainly not “oranges”– maybe “electrolysis machines” or “Coup d’états”? You decide.). Maybe you are that kid in the theater and reading this feels like a crazy out of body experience; I’ve appropriated your persona and you want it back, you need it back, and you need it back NOW! Of course, I have the cure: Grab a paper bag (the size your mother used to pack your lunch) squash it into a small spherical shape, toss it in the air… We’ll be up all night!