I am a professional reminder-er and permission granter who moonlights as an artist, author, professional speaker, and publisher of The Adultitis Fighter, which helps people create lives filled with adventure, meaning, and joy. I enjoy Star Wars, soft t-shirts, and brand new tubes of paint. My wife Kim and I homeschool our three weird kids and live in Wisconsin, where we eat way too many cheese curds.
Greetings from Sheboygan, where I had a Daddy-Daughter date night this week with Lucy, who is almost 18! I remember taking her to Culver's on some of our first dates, and now she works there! I don't know how many we have left, but I'll take as many as I can get. 🥲
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? Share your thoughts with me, join the conversation in The Wonderground, or spend time this week recording them in your journal.
Stay young and stay fun,
P.S.
Want a list of 60 ginormously fun goal ideas? I'm working on a guide for creating your own that also includes 60 suggestions. Reply to the email letting me know you're interested, and I'll send it over when it's ready.
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On a mission to help people break free from Adultitis to build better lives, businesses, and teams.
I am a professional reminder-er and permission granter who moonlights as an artist, author, professional speaker, and publisher of The Adultitis Fighter, which helps people create lives filled with adventure, meaning, and joy. I enjoy Star Wars, soft t-shirts, and brand new tubes of paint. My wife Kim and I homeschool our three weird kids and live in Wisconsin, where we eat way too many cheese curds.
View online • Get this from a friend? Subscribe here! Shenanigating Since 2000 | 2026 Issue #34 🍌 Happy Sunday, Reader! Greetings from Sheboygan, where we probably enjoyed our last beach day last week and are sneaking in as many "last" trips to our favorite ice cream place as we can. 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...
View online • Get this from a friend? Subscribe here! Shenanigating Since 2000 | 2026 Issue #33 ☕️ Happy Sunday, Reader! Greetings from Sheboygan, where we just sent out my newest Mini*Print and its story to Collector Club members. If you want to bring a little more wonder into your home—and give Adultitis one less place to hide, join us! 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...
View online • Get this from a friend? Subscribe here! Shenanigating Since 2000 | 2026 Issue #32 🖍️ Happy Sunday, Reader! Greetings from Sheboygan, where I am back with a new episode of Echo Base Dispatch, a video series from my studio overlooking Lake Michigan, where I share what I’m working on, what I’m wrestling with, and the lessons I’m learning along the way. You can click the image above to watch it, or...just keep reading. Oh, and a friendly reminder that tomorrow (Monday) is the last...