I was a solitary, busy kid, whiling away my childhood by making mud pies, drawing comic books and writing stories. One winter I stuffed an old tube sock with cotton to make a rag doll, diligently following directions in the World Book Encyclopedia.
Had I known about it, Robert Paul Smith's 1958 book, "How to Do Nothing With Nobody All Alone by Yourself" (now back in print with Tin House Books), would have been my Bible. In words both cheerful and straightforward, Smith gets down to the nitty-gritty on the first page: "These are things you can do by yourself," he writes. "You don't need any help from your mother or your father or anybody." And then he goes on to explain how to build a multitude of wondrous things from ordinary objects -- a tank from an empty spool and a rubber band; a parachute from a handkerchief; a monkey from a peach pit; a buzz saw from a four-hole button and a piece of string.
He explains how to squeeze the seedpod of the jewel weed to cause it to behave like "a tiny green banana-shaped bomb," and teaches all kinds of tricks you can do with a folding knife. Dangerous? He trusts that kids have common sense. "I don't know how old you are, and I really don't know any more how old I was when I did the different things in this book," he says. "So if you find that some of the things are too old for you -- wait until you're old enough to do them."
Will kids today find this book quaint? Or will they be delighted? Will his casual tone ("I can't tell you exactly how to do this, it's kind of a matter of feel") frustrate them, or set them free? I hope there are kids out there who will be delighted by the thought of no adults, no helmets, no organized play groups. Just read and do.
