Spontaneous Fun

I had a dream the other night. I was in an airport and I was hanging out with Mario Lopez. He was his current age, but it was also before he became famous, because dreams are contradictory like that. We were having a conversation about what we want in life. His was to be an actor. I told him that if that was what made him happy, then he should stick with it. I think he took my message to heart. Then he asked me, “What brings you joy?” My answer was very clear as I replied, “Spontaneous Fun.” Then I realized I’d lost my phone somewhere in the airport and it was time to board my flight. My time with Mario was cut short.

I woke up thinking, “Maybe I should have had a deeper answer?” But why? Do I feel guilty for wanting fun to be a priority in my life? Should I have a more serious goal? Mario just wanted to know what brings me joy, right? And what is joy? Joy is the happiest version of happy. The biggest smile. The loudest laugh. Side stitches and weak knees. Joy is love because nothing else matters in the moment.

And so why does fun bring joy? Correction, why does spontaneous fun bring joy? I guess my life has become so planned, so routine, that fun has to be worked into the schedule. Is planned fun less joyful than spontaneous fun? My friends and I plan several gatherings throughout the year, and we have fun (maybe too much fun?), but it’s still a lot of work to get to the point of fun. So maybe that’s the key, I want more fun that requires no work, no asking the neighbor to watch the dogs, no asking my parents to watch my daughter, no packing, no saving, no lists.

When I was little, fun was never planned. Friends would show up at my door, and vice versa, and out we’d run to do whatever we felt like doing; bike ride, swim in the pond, a game of HORSE in the driveway, kickball in the field, walk to the town square for a sweet treat. Spontaneous fun seems to require a sense of freedom. Are adults less free to have fun?

Such conundrums I’m left with: I need to work for free time so that I can plan some spontaneity; I need to say No more often so that I can say Yes more often; I need to be irresponsible in order to have more guilt-free fun. Everyone has their own idea of fun. Mine involves four A’s: action, adventure, amusement, and an awakening of the senses. Now how can I create more spontaneous fun? Mario, help me name my adventure!

Pea Pancakes

My Uncle passed on a week ago. As sad as death can be, I prefer to find joy in what a life has brought to the world. My Uncle lived a long 91 years, and accomplished more than most could hope to do. But in keeping with my theme, I’ll tell you about my favorite memories of him from childhood.

Uncle Dick played a pivotal role in finding my dad a job working for the State of Connecticut, and finding our first home in Granby, where I grew up. He and his family lived not too far from there, so we were able to visit them often. He had two young daughters that were close to my age. We would have sleepovers and, in the mornings, Uncle Dick would make us pancakes. Except these weren’t ordinary pancakes, these were pea pancakes. He would hide a single pea in a few in the stack, and we would have to eat our way through the stack to find them. Who knew a child could get so excited about a pea?!

One Summer we went over to play, and he set up a slip and slide for us. But again, this wasn’t an ordinary slip and slide, this was the world’s largest slip and slide. He used giant tarps and covered the backyard with them. We slipped and slid to our heart’s content.

One Spring we went for an Easter egg hunt in the backyard. But again, this wasn’t an ordinary hunt. There were eggs stuffed with candy, but there were also giant stuffed bunnies to find. I brought home a bunny bigger than myself that day. I never knew such a thing could exist.

My Uncle also like to play a variety of stringed instruments, and he would always grace us with a song or two on our visits. “The Unicorn” was a must. One day my mom said we were going to watch her brother play. And guess what? It was no ordinary jam session. We ended up in the streets of downtown Hartford watching my Uncle and his band, The Connecticut River Ramblers, play a show on stage. I’m grateful to him for the introduction to, and my appreciation of, Bluegrass music and live shows.

How wonderful to be a person who so easily makes life extraordinary for others.

Peace be with you, Uncle Dick. Time to go see those silly unicorns!