fun . . .
Fun. What a weird word. I mean, think about it: f-u-n. It sounds like an asian noodle–like in “chow foon” or something. Okay, I’ll stop fooling around and talk about fun. The reason I’m having a hard time doing it is that fun hasn’t been a big part of my life. That might sound like an odd thing to many of you but I have to admit it’s true.
I’ve always been fairly serious, even as a child. Overloaded with responsibility at a very young age (5), I don’t think I ever questioned the somewhat sober tone that permeated my growing up. I just did my homework, or assignments or chores. I was obedient and spent a lot of time by myself. Too much stimulation otherwise. So today, when someone asked me what fun meant to me, I was a little at a loss.
But, by the end of the conversation, I decided that it might be a good idea for me to explore the possibilities of having a little more fun. I grew up with music and as a teenager I listened to a lot of music, all the time (Ernest Bloch “Concerto Grosso,” Dave Brubeck “Take Five,” Bela Bartok “Concerto for Orchestra,” Glazunov violin concerto, and on and on.)
I’ve gotten away from it, I don’t know why, but when I went into the Apple store the other day to get a small Sandisk removed with tweezers from my Mac Pro laptop, I looked at and bought a small silver square “Shuffle.” It’s an MP-3 player and I dragged a few pieces of music on to it from my I-tunes. I am listening to it with earphones right now while the World Series is playing on TV. I didn’t think I’d like the concept of music that would play randomly one clip after another (being the slightly OCD person that I am,) which is also why I didn’t spring for the “Shuffle” sooner.
Now, that’s fun!