Every summer, without fail, it begins: the highly unpublicized, fiercely uncompetitive and proudly unproductive event known as The Lawn Chair Olympics.
There are no medals, no opening ceremony, no sponsors – unless you count store-brand lemonade and whatever sunscreen bottle you found in last year’s beach bag. But the dedication is real. Every seasoned participant knows it takes years of practice to truly master the art of doing absolutely nothing.
First, there’s the setup. Placement is key. Shade or sun? Near the grill or near the cooler? Is the breeze blowing in the direction of the citronella candle? A misstep here could result in glare blindness, mosquito attacks, or hearing the neighbor’s lawn mower for two solid hours.
Next comes the event lineup. Common competitions include:
• Synchronized Sipping – Two or more people take perfectly timed sips from their cold beverages while saying “Ahhhh.” Bonus points for sipping from a Mason jar with a reusable straw.
• Cooler Curling – While sitting in the lawn chair, strategically nudge a refreshment-filled cooler with your foot until it’s within reach without getting up. (This takes finesse and solid core strength.)
• Stillness Endurance – How long can you remain motionless in your lawn chair without moving, talking, or checking your phone? We’re talking zero productivity and 100% relaxation. It’s tougher than it sounds.
There are no medals, no opening ceremony, no sponsors, but the dedication is real.
• The Shade Shuffle – As the sun moves, so must you – but slowly, subtly, while maintaining contact with your chair. Instant disqualification for breaking a sweat while shuffling.
Attire for this event is strictly summer-business-casual: elastic waistbands, flip-flops with questionable structural integrity and a T-shirt that has attended more family reunions than you have.
As with any world-class sport, gear matters. A high-quality lawn chair is essential. We’re not talking about the saggy one from 2015 with the unraveling cupholder – no, serious competitors bust out the zero-gravity recliner with the built-in sunshade and side tray. That’s how you know someone’s in it to win it.
And then, there’s the most important event of all: The Lawn Chair Nap. You’ll try to fight it. You’ll say, “I’m just resting my eyes.” But 27 minutes later, you’ll wake up with an imprint of the chair mesh on your arm and a neck position that may require chiropractic intervention. That, my friends, is victory.
So this summer, I challenge you: resist the urge to overbook. Forget the productivity guilt. Sit down, lean back. Watch the clouds float by like it’s your job. Because sometimes, doing absolutely nothing is exactly what you need and one thing is certain: lawn chair season doesn’t last forever.
Cue “The Star-Spangled Banner” (or at least the sound of a neighbor cracking open a cold one). You’ve earned this.
