I asked Beth, our resident puzzle-person, to take a first look at River Crossing. She spent two weeks with it, and came back with the following report:
1) It's fun to set up. For kids, that might be half the fun - it kinda reminded me of legos. :)
2) The upper levels challenged me enough to keep me going for quite a while - and I'm definitely quicker than most with these things, so I think it will keep most folks happily occupied for hours.
3) For each level, there's usually only one brain-bending move you have to twist your mind around to get the pieces to fall into place, so it's not *frustratingly* difficult.
4) It also passed the lounge test - easily playable while almost completely supine.
Upon personal inspection, I find myself seconding, and maybe even thirding her endorsement. The puzzle itself reminds me of one of those survival exercises such as those developed by Project Adventure. And the fantasy adds greatly to its appeal.
River Crossing is as well-packaged as it is conceived. The puzzle cards are packaged in their own storage box. The puzzle base and pieces fit snugly into the package. A carrying bag (waterproof, of course) helps make the whole thing satisfyingly portable. The game is built on a plastic pegboard grid. Puzzle cards (40 of them) fit on top of the grid. Plastic pegs are placed in the corresponding holes and 5 magnetic planks placed between the pegs according to the directions on the puzzle card. Put the magnetic man on the middle of the starting plank, and then lift and move the planks, one at a time, to adjacent pegs, to help him cross the river.
When playfulness meets science, the results you get vary from downright silly to startling findings about the nature of life, the universe, and all that is therein implied.
A brief visit to the Tricks page on "Crazy Aaron's Putty World" presents you with ample evidence of the benefits of the play/science dialogue - especially if what you're searching for lies on the "downright silly" end of the conceptual spectrum.
Crazy Aaron sells "Thinking Putty." Made of the same wondersome stuff that is still called by its original silly name, but sold in a post-patented tin containing a far more serious portion (about 7 times as much as you'd get in the egg of renown), Thinking Putty offers investigators the conceptual heft necessary for in-depth speculation.
See the startlingly cool results of writing on Glow-in-the-Dark Thinking Putty with a blacklight pen (coincidentally available from Crazy Aaron - serendipitously free with an order of 4 tins). Observe the questionable impact of shooting Thinking Putty out of a Putty Canon, or smashing it with a hammer, or just hanging it from the ceiling. Contemplate the significance of its magnetic properties. Behold the sartorial splendor of a Thinking Putty shirt. Restore once more your abiding faith in the revelatory powers of fun.
Think of it as a virtual, animated tinker toy. Or, think of it as an opportunity to create life. Sodaplay provides a deep and fun world for exploration by the scientific and the playful.
As they explain: "looking at the fluid, lifelike way these creatures walk and roll and slink across the screen you might think that there must be some very complicated stuff going on behind the scenes. well fear not, it's actually very simple. It only looks complicated because lots of simple bits are working together. When simple bits work together you can get emergent behaviour. that means that the system as a whole can be more complex and sophisticated than the simple bits that it's made out of."
First, visit the Sodazoo. Scroll right and left to view the first 80 or so Sodacritters - creations of Sodaplayers from around the world. Click on any one. Watch it dance. Then play with the controls. Watch it change. Then go back to the Sodacritter collection. Repeat. Repeat repetitively. Then make your own.
For the documentation-needy, there's ample information on the Sodaconstructor page.
Sodaplay is the first virtual toy to earn the coveted MajorFUN Award. It sets a standard that I truly hope will challenge imitators and innovators alike.
Playfulness and inventiveness are very closely related. Probably nowhere as closely as in Halfbakery, an online, collaboratively authored collection of ideas and inventions that are, well, half-baked.
Without the requirement of having actually to build, draw, trademark, patent, or even test out ideas, Halfbakery leaves its contributors and readers deliciously free to invent the sublimely ridiculous. Take, for example, the concept of Detachable Sock Stripes: "Detachable sock stripes turn plain white socks into exciting striped socks. Simply don your socks and fasten the stripes around your ankles." And, while your exploring this concept in its clearly deserved depth, take a look at Homing Socks that find each other, or the immensely clever and sorely needed Inside Out Socks. Along with socks, consider the merits of an Inflatable Tie: "To amuse yourself during interminable meetings you can discreetly inflate and deflate it, by messing with the pump controls... or deliberately overinflate it, until it explodes. You can also take it off, inflate the other compartment, that runs around the neck, and use it for beach baseball, or a fake riot control baton. Other uses: In a car crash, if you can inflate it in time; As a neck support splint afterwards, if you can't; As a life preserver, should your airliner ditch into water; As a neck support pillow, on long flights."
The Halfbakery is a community effort, supporting dialogue as wholeheartedly as it supports creativity and sheer silliness. It is a gift to all of us.
It may not be the ultimate game, but Ultimate, a.k.a. Ultimate Frisbee, is perhaps one of the most ambitious and successful efforts to redefine the sports experience.
The sport itself is a thing of grace and beauty, and an opportunity for intense team competition. It's a bit like playing soccer/basketball with a disc ("Frisbee" is a trademark, "disc" is the thing that looks like a Frisbee). There are teams and goals. You can't run with the disc (as in basketball), so you basically catch, pass, and position yourself to catch again until you can throw it to someone who is in the opposing team's goal area (as in kinda like soccer). It's played on college campuses, by men and women. There are world tournaments.
The ambitious part of Ultimate lies in what players refer to as the "Spirit of the Game" - an undisguised attempt to make players their own referees. Basically, the ideas is that if you commit a foul, you call it on yourself. Imagine what it takes for a serious player to have the strength of personality and purpose needed to do a thing like that - to stop herself and the game, in the blue heat of competition, and admit, publicly, that she broke a rule!
It takes sport back to the era in which it was considered a way to build character. And what a way! No wonder the sport is called "Ultimate."
The game of Kubb is apparently played on the Swedish island of Gotland. And Swedish woodworker Jan Larsson is devoting much of his good energies to making the game available to the rest of the world.
The game is played on a playing ground 5 x 8 meters, the size can be less or More depending on the players skilfulness, the playing ground should be fairly smooth and flat, usually we play on grass but gravel, flat rock or snow will also do. The players are divided in two teams and take place behind their respectably baseline. The game is aimed at to knock down the other teamīs kubbs with the throwing batons according to the rules. When all the kubbs are knocked down, the king should be knocked down, the team which does this has won.
English may not be the first language of this entrepreneuring woodworker, nor the Internet his medium of choice, but nevertheless, because of his efforts, and the Internet, we have a unique invitation to many afternoons of peaceful and challenging fun.
What do the Navahos, Eskimos and Maoris, the Hawaiian and Easter Islanders, the Wai Wai and Wapishana have in common with most kids in Europe and America? Cats Cradle. Or something very much like it.
After going through some of these sources, you'll probably come to the conclusion that the study of string figures is reserved for children or folklorists. Let John Kean and Brian Cox show you how making string figures can be at least as much of an art as it is a game.
A Raccoon Circle is a loop made out of tubular climbing webbing, which you can buy for $.30/foot from outfitters like this one. Of course, that only answers the question "how do you make a Raccoon Circle?" A much more fun question is "what do you do with it?" The answer can be found in one of several informative and inspring PDF files in this collection of resources by Dr. Jim Cain.
It turns out that these little loops of webbing can have great play and instructional value. In the tradition of "team challenges," as established by the powerful and often playful work of Project Adventure, Raccoon Circle activities engage mind, body and community.
Here's a brief sample - the game of "Knot Right Now"
"Instruct the entire group (up to 8 participants per Raccoon Circle) to grab hold of the straight (untied) webbing. Wherever they hold with their right hand must stay there, however the left hand can move, slide, or let go as necessary to make movement easy. The task is for the group to tie a single overhand knot in the Raccoon Circle."
A game of giant Snakes and Ladders, perhaps? Or would you prefer a pleasant hour of Giant Pick Up Sticks? Something more constructive? How about Giant Jenga?
Garden Games are clearly a British phenomenon. Most likely because so many United Kingdomers have large gardens. As one of the mini-gardened many, what intrigues me about these games, aside from the fact that they're too big for my garden, is that so many of them are simply table games with oversized egos. Giant chess, giant checkers, giant ludo (parcheesi)... There's even a giant version of Connect Four.
There's something fun about playing a game that's been giganticized. Something different when you find yourself inside a game, a mere pawn among pawns, subjected to the laddering and chuting your way to destiny. Something that opens up new possibilities for interacting with your family and friends. Any table game, from tic tac toe to cribbage, becomes something other when made large.
Years ago, 27 years ago, actually, when I had the opportunity to design an outdoor play event for one-quarter million people as part of Philadelphia's celebration of the Bicentennial, it was this very principle that I used to create an event that brought all those people into play. I had a larger scale to work with. The entire Benjamin Franklin Parkway. So, my giant pickup sticks were 15 feet long. But what an amazing experience they provided! As did my 4x8 foot playing cards and blockwide hopscotch game and 6-foot diameter volleyball. Changing scale changes games into community events. In parks and playgrounds, streets and parking lots, in English gardens, and even yours.
At last we have proof positive of the benevolent impact of the advertising community on office life. Behold, the game of Shelfball, as developed by ESPN as part of their "Without Sports" campaign. Now available online as an interactive game, Shelfball is a relatively mild Office Sport (compared to, for example, Desk Hurdles and this other Honda-advertiser-inspired sport of Office Rowing), in which players attempt to toss a ball (or any other readily available object), on to an empty book shelf.
The official ESPN version of Shelfball is scored like baseball. A ball must first bounce on the floor before hitting, and staying on a shelf. Two shelves are used. Depending on the number of bounces and the shelf occupied, players score a single, double, triple or homer. Scoring anything but a home run puts an imaginary man on base.
What's especially intriguing about Shelfball is that what started out as a clever advertisement actually became part of office culture. People are playing it, making up their own variations, holding official (what else?) inter-office world series tournaments. I look on it all as a sign of health. Thanks, ESPN, for keeping more of us in play.
It's called "Trangleball." Which is like "Triangle Ball" without the "i" - because, as the developer explains, "there's no I in TEAM."
Official Trangleball equipment includes a 14-inch high pyramid and 6 "Mini Trangleballs" each about the size of a softball. There are rules for Trangle Soccer, Trangle Baseball, Trangle Basketball, Trangle Stoopball, 1-on-1, 2-on-2, and the traditional 3-on-3 versions of Trangleball. Yes, I know, it sounds wacky. So many games from such a simple device - a pyramid in the middle of a circle. And yet, as so well-illustrated, Trangleball is a genuine invitation to active, creative, athletic play.
The inventor explains that the the real "sport" is the 3-on-3 version, which he calls a "3-dimensional handball" game. There are two teams, with a member of each team in a different sector. When a ball is served, by throwing against the Trangle, the opponent can catch the ball and rebound it onto the Trangle, or pass it to one of his teammates in another sector. You can read an article about it here.
Trangleball is the very stuff of fun - a small innovation that lends itself to the creation of apparently endless possibilities for active, physical engagement. It looks good enough to be a candidate for the development of a whole series of professional sports, and open and flexible enough to be played in backyard, street and playground. The site isn't very fancy. The pictures not really professional. But the spirit that is conveyed is Olympian.
Kudos to inventor Mark Miller for his courage and playfulness, and for extending to us all a new opportunity to engage body, mind and spirit. Questions? Wanna learn how to make your own? Email Mark.
I asked Beth, our resident puzzle-person, to take a first look at River Crossing. She spent two weeks with it, and came back with the following report:
Playfulness and inventiveness are very closely related. Probably nowhere as closely as in 
The game of 
What do the Navahos, Eskimos and Maoris, the Hawaiian and Easter Islanders, the Wai Wai and Wapishana have in common with most kids in Europe and America? Cats Cradle. Or something very much like it.
After going through some of these sources, you'll probably come to the conclusion that the study of string figures is reserved for children or folklorists. Let 
A game of giant 
