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Are we having fun yet?

By Nancy A. Knox
Arizona Daily Wildcat
September 30, 1998
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editor@wildcat.arizona.edu


[Picture]

Wildcat File Photo
Arizona Daily Wildcat

Nancy A. Knox


Lately, I have been obsessed with thoughts of fun. This could be directly attributed to the fact that with four children, two majors and two jobs, my actual contact time with fun has diminished greatly.

My thoughts have not only been concerned with my desire to have fun, but with weightier issues as well. Questions run through my mind: "Will I still know when I am having fun?" "How much fun do I have to be having for it to qualify as real fun?" "Is it possible to have too much fun?" and "Out of all the kinds of fun to be had, how come 'bad' fun feels so good?"

My mind turns back to an early morning scene 15 years ago. Several of my exotic dancing companions and I sat around my kitchen table applying various ointments to our recently incurred abrasions, and assorted frozen food products to our bruises. In the course of the previous evening we had managed to drink exorbitantly, ingest multiple illegal substances, garner serious poker winnings from the gas station boys-next-door and talk a couple of other guys into loaning us their all-terrain-vehicles, which we had subsequently wrecked on a train track near Vail.

As we drank now-warm beer, (rescued from our flattened cooler), passed an ever-present joint and nursed our wounds, we contemplated what to tell the owners of the vehicles we had destroyed. We came up with the excuse that "Hey, we weren't reckless, we aren't evil women, we are just victims of too much fun." I guess you could say that on that occasion my counterparts and I were indeed shining examples of over-funning.

Recently, I saw what appeared to be prisoners of fun. They were loaded shoulder-to-shoulder, grim expressions on their faces, careening down Grant Road in a giant, Barney-like purple bus, ironically bearing the name "The Fun Bus."

"The Fun Bus!" My mind reeled. The fun bus must know where real fun is. Where can I get on? Then again those people didn't look to be experiencing too much of a joyful feeling. An acquaintance later explained to me that the "fun bus" was owned by a local casino and existed for the purpose of ferrying senior citizens, fixed incomes in hand, to the casino and back. [Picture]

I must have seen the trip home.

But is the trip to the casino even a rollicking good time? I feel unqualified to even guess, not being inclined to gamble. My idea of a wager is to buy the 12-roll pack of toilet paper instead of the four-pack and bet we will all still be alive to use it up.

Candy manufacturers have instigated another foray into the realm of fun. In recent months, while perusing store shelves, looking for my favorite peanut-butter M&Ms, I have encountered a creature labeled the "fun-size" candy bar.

This so-called "fun-size" is actually smaller than the average-size candy. What is so fun about that? Is this how much fun I can have at one sitting? Who decides this? Shouldn't the "fun-size" be BIGGER? Does this mean I have been having a regular "laugh riot" all along with regular-size candy and didn't know it?

Years of unnoticed fun gone to waste. What a shame!

Maybe fun is one of those words used for multiple sentiments that have been cheapened by overuse. Like "hell" for example. You know, "hot as hell," "rich as hell," "fat as hell" and the like.

Hell must be a hell-of-a-place to be able to incorporate all those characteristics. I would hate to think that fun would suffer the same cheapened fate.

Meanwhile, I think I will keep my philosophy on fun along the lines of my philosophy on candy bars. Tear off that wrapper, dig in, use both hands, savor that taste and celebrate that richness. Above all else, enjoy it. Have fun.

Nancy A. Knox is a political science and sociology senior and can be reached at Nancy.A.Knox@wildcat.arizona.edu. Her column, Processed Cheese Food, appears every Wednesday.