A little while back I was cleaning out the basement and I stumbled upon my old box of Star Wars toys.

Just like that, I found myself lying on the floor more than an hour later surrounded by action figures, celebrating another liberated galaxy. Battles were fought, heroes were born, heads decapitated—and my upper lip and chin were wet with the drool from laser gun and explosion sound effects.

Some may say a 6’6”, 275-lb. adult sprawled on the floor surrounded by toys is a little embarrassing. As for me? It was a moment of pure pride… because I realized I had never lost my imagination.

I’ve heard it said the creative adult is the child who survived. I think that’s pretty cool.

In short, I’m a writer who is still creative. I’m a dad. A foster dad. A Del Taco eating record holder (28 tacos). And yes, I’m really tall.