In an effort to ease the boredom of sheltering in place, I recently put the following post on Facebook:

“What have you done in your life that you think none of my other Facebook friends have done? I’ll kick it off: I drank out of ‘Coloreds Only’ drinking fountains in South Carolina and Georgia in the summer of 1959. That stunt almost got me killed, as the redneck gas station owners weren’t too pleased, to say the least.”

That post unleashed a flurry of colorful responses, not surprising given the creativity, intelligence and daring nature of my FB friends, most of whom are in the 50-70 age group.

As it happens, two of them had also drunk from “Coloreds Only” drinking fountains; one of them even did so in front of a courthouse in Alabama. I’m sure that we were all viewed as “Damned Yankees” (or worse) at the time. Today they’d refer to us as “commie libruls” (sic) or, just as damning, “Trump-haters.”

Another friend landed in jail for a different form of protest after, in her words, “the ERA had just gone down in flames.” She refused to serve on a jury because juries were supposed to be composed of peers and therefore she, as a woman, was not considered a peer.

Some friends recalled a whimsical antic. “Climbed down into a 12-foot diameter, brick-lined, centuries-old sewer pipe. (Clad in a clown suit).” And, “Went to a game at Dodger Stadium dressed as a fly.” And “Painted the town’s water tower with the words ‘Auburn Dollies.’” And “Celebrated my 55th birthday by eating zebra meat at a restaurant in Senegal.” And “Got my (rear end) stuck in the monkey bars and a fireman had to come get me out.” And “Set my brother’s hat on fire outside of a Bowdoin dorm.” And “Pretended I was the weekend princess in order to get admitted to different fraternities during Cornell’s Spring Weekend.”

Some responses described harrowing tales. “Got nearly run over by a secret service agent in college.” And “Got pulled over at gunpoint on the streets of Sao Paolo.” And “Beat the hell out of a man trying to steal my stereo.” And “Witnessed a hold-up at a convenience store and chased the guy in my car until the police showed up.” And “Almost got struck by lightening. Blinded, everything turned white, feet tingled.”

And some people recalled feats of derring-do. “Did an ironman on six different continents in a four-month time frame.” And “Did a parachute jump from 3,000 feet and landed on a disc the size of a small coffee can lid.” And “Kissed the Great Wall of China.”

Lady Luck took her turn. “Sold my previous internet domain name for $10,000.” And “Won the grand prize in a contest, a two-week trip for four people plus $4,000 in spending money.”

Some stories involved a linguistic twist. “Swam in a public fountain and pretended not to speak English when the police came.” And “Got stuck on a transatlantic flight among a blabby group of package tourists and pretended to be a German who couldn’t speak English. Spoke German to the stewardess. No problem.”

Celebrities were featured in two posts. “Sat on a couch on the stage at a Grateful Dead concert.” And “Tried to get a cab after a late flight to Kennedy and got approached by a man who worked for Joe Namath. He said that Joe liked my legs and offered me a ride. I accepted.” (I impishly followed up by asking if the ride with Joe Namath was the end of that story, and she said that it was.)

And then there were the spiritual entries. “Meandered in awe around the megaliths at Stonehenge, alone by moonlight. Until some ghosts in official uniforms spirited me back outside the fence.” And “In Ladakh, India, hired a driver to take me across Khardung, La Pass elev. 18,500’ – the highest motorable road in the world. Destination Diskit and three days of initiation with HH Dalai Lama.”

Winning the “true confessions” category was an entry describing the night a woman got drunk after working her bartending shift and tried to swim across the Potomac with her backpack, an adventure that ultimately involved helicopters, high speed boats and police from Virginia, Maryland and DC.”

One person refused to play the game at all, noting that, “I don’t have the bond bail to reveal stuff like that. Let’s just say it was worth it.”

And it was definitely worth it to jog the memories, tap the creativity and ease the boredom of members of my Facebook friend community.

David Treadwell, a Brunswick writer, welcomes commentary and suggestions for future “Just a Little Old” columns. dtreadw575@aol.com.