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The
Pink Room: Thoughts About Intentional Living
Chapter
12/ Shenanigans.
Part
1 (Previous post contain the previous chapters.)
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When
I was in middle school I decided on one particular April fool’s day to wrap a
black rubber band around the black sprayer nozzle. When the faucet was turned
on it would spray the user, it was all “automated.” Mom was the identified user/victim.
No one messed with Mom. I couldn’t have said why exactly but felt it was time
to test that boundary.
It
was particularly entertaining to my dad when Mom got hit in the face with
unexpected spraying water. She still brings it up decades later. There’s a
certain “I can’t believe you did that” tone of voice that, out of the siblings,
I only ever really hear. After that, she began calling me an instigator.
I
recently worked with a great group of creatives who love their shenanigans. We
included a videographer, web designer, programmer, interactive designer, sign
architect, print designer and me as their Art Director. It was fun to be a part
of a group of people who all had a similar disposition and temperament. I have
not experienced that before. There was an unspoken language of silliness. Being
accepted for a like-minded love of shenanigans, and although we were generally
professionals, if you would look closely you would see a row of tiny stuffed
creatures peeking out all around the room. The group decided the electrical
openings on my desk were storage for toy guns, extra rubber bands and balls,
and whatever else was colorful that needed a home.
If
anyone had a thoughtful question to pose to the room, seven of us worked
together, it would not be long before someone got nailed with a Nerf dart or a
rubber ball. As we all thoughtfully answered the question, rubber balls would
be thrown, plants would get decorated, a rubber band would be launched. It was
perfectly natural to mix the serious with inane.
There
were all kinds of accepted and understood behaviors. If you left for vacation
it was likely your stuff got messed with, if you were not a manager. On one
particular occasion, and entire desk, the return, and all the items on the desk
were wrapped in Christmas paper. On another the yoga ball (chair) was put in
the rafters. Plants were added to wheel-y chairs, speakers and keyboards
unplugged and, almost daily, someone would put tape on someone else’s mouse so
it wouldn’t track.
It
was fascinating that there was a vocabulary for just that work place. “Shenanigans”
was a word that we began using often—for all crazy goings-on. Ghost-ball was a
pool ball that randomly got placed on the floor in different areas, to see how
far it would roll with the warping in the floor, sometimes it made unexpected
turns and that’s how it got dubbed. Coffee-ball was a game the males made up,
tossing a small ball until it landed in one of the coffee clutch’s mugs (after
it had hit the floor several times—no matter what was in the coffee the loser
had to drink it.) A classic double prank was a prank that pranked another
person in the process of discovering the prank. I can’t remember them all, just
too many Shenanigans. “Pulling a Ben” was either putting tape on your mouse or
removing a wheel from your chair. Oh, and “pulling a Lisa,” ironically, I don’t
think Lisa ever realized what it was fully—Lisa, she is incredibly extroverted,
would forget to fully listen or she would completely not pay attention, which
referenced an email. Hours later, minimum of four hours, she’d tell the story
or laugh at the email as if it were brand new. It never failed to be
entertaining and it happened all the time.
For
some reason they dubbed me the instigator there, too. They thought it was new—I
told them after a few months that it had always been a thing in my life--since
early on. They were surprised. I never DID anything, however I may or may not
have come up with more than a few ideas or possibly new approaches to heighten
the effect of a prank. I don’t enjoy being pranked, so I wouldn’t help with the
pranking (most of the time.) If it was really good or really nice in the end I’d
cave.
I
always appreciated that it didn’t go too far, and the jokes that were kept
alive were the ones where the “victim” also thought it was funny. The one I
found the most humorous was when Ben slowly deflated Dave’s yoga ball over the
course of a week. Dave kept sitting lower and lower and didn’t notice. One day
he was low enough his view was quite different. He finally noticed. He brought
in an air pump.
I
dubbed them “lovable goofballs,” and they were
the people at the place where we did the things. That’s about how it’s said,
Anders would make sure it was vague and clear, more than not—including a
terrible pun or dad joke...ironically, he’s not a dad.
I experienced something with that group
that was uncommon to me. They didn’t all like each other fully but they
completely accepted one another as they were and encouraged individuality. No
matter the difficulty or disagreement it was known that there would be no issue
with it in minutes. I didn’t have to hide anything or self-sensor, and it was
freeing.
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I
think the devil wants us to withhold, hide, self-sensor and close-off and
pretend. If we withhold the gift of what’s inside of us the world doesn’t receive
the gift of the one “you” that will ever exist. I think some people do their
best impression of who they think they should be for most of their lives.
God
put us all here for a reason. It is important to be present in this life. I
believe that when we believe it is safer to live like that (withhold, hide,
self-sensor and close-off and pretend) we also do ourselves harm of limiting
the amount of love we can receive. God doesn’t want that for us. He wants us to
be fully loved.
