Pillow Fight

There are many things we tend to leave behind as we exit childhood and adopt the mantle of adulthood. Unfortunately, a PILLOW FIGHT – that delightful romp with friends that allowed us to laugh uproariously, vent our pent-up frustrations and feel just a little naughty – is relegated, for many of us, to the box of fond memories thought too silly to partake in once we have mortgages and jobs and responsibilities. Thank goodness someone out there realized that this attitude is BULLSHIT, and created International Pillow Fight Day.

Yes, INTERNATIONAL PILLOW FIGHT DAY.

It took place this past Saturday, in numerous cities throughout the world. I joined the fight in Pershing Square, located in downtown Los Angeles.

What an adventure!

I’ve wanted to participate in the madness since hearing about it, after the fact, last year. It simply sounded too outrageous to miss – hundreds of people showing up at a designated time, at a designated location, with a pillow (preferably feather) in hand, and prepared to get into a pillow fight to end all pillow fights with a bunch of like-minded strangers. All orchestrated via word-of-mouth.

The crowd gathers. By Jen Castle.

The power of social media at its most gloriously inane and profound.

I coerced my friend @jencastle to join me in the fray. She remembered her camera (she’s a fabulous professional photographer and had the real deal) so she’s provided the pictures here. She has her version of the story too.

I remembered the pillow.

We arrived at the square about half an hour before the fight was to start. People were already gathering – dressed in everything from pajamas, masks and Mad Hatter hats to capes, jeans and magenta tutus. Old timers displayed goggles and bandanas to protect themselves. The air was charged with anticipation.

Preparation time. By Jen Castle.

By three o’clock, the designated start time, the square was PACKED with people of all ages – a truly eclectic bunch. Jen and I moved to the very center of the crowd (how naive!). As the clock ticked down, people raised their pillows above their heads. A great cheer went up. And then…

MAYHEM.

Chaos (that's me in the middle). By Jen Castle.

A mosh pit. With feathers. Lots and lots of feathers.

Feathers can be hazardous to your health. By Jen Castle.

It was utterly exhilarating. And utterly terrifying.

We were PUMMLED from all sides, immediately lost sight of each other, and fought the good fight.

On the attack. By Jen Castle.

Then, I inhaled a handful of feathers, started suffocating, panicked, and called it quits.

I lasted five minutes.

I am an embarrassment to the League of Pillow Fighters everywhere.

***

I watched the remaining 55 minutes of the fight from the somewhat safer confines of the square’s edge, exhausted by the adrenaline rush, hacking up feathers in a vain attempt to breathe more freely, and wondering how I’d ever considered pillow fighting to be a tame, frivilous activity.

It is HARD CORE.

***

As I look back on the experience now, a few days later, I realize a few things:

1. I need to get in better shape.
2. Next year, I’m bringing a gas mask or the equivalent. And I’m remembering my camera.
3. Advil and water are as important as the pillow.
4. I’m so very glad I experienced this! And I can now cross it off my Intentions List, which is also kinda great.
5. People are crazy.
6. I like being crazy.

I’m still finding feathers about my person, by the way.

The aftermath. By Jen Castle.

If the pillow fight comes to your neck of the woods next year, will you join? Or do you prefer to keep your pillow on your bed and your fighting to the virtual or verbal kind?

Share the Pleasure!

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