Extreme fun is, well, extreme. Fun that is so much fun that we are willing to risk life and limb to taste it, even if only for a second. It’s the fun of sky diving, bungee jumping, rock climbing, snow boarding. Ordinary fun is the chewing gum kind of fun, even the washing dishes kind of fun that comes with the warm water and emerging sparkle and the meditation-like expanse of timelessness that ends when the sink is empty.
The problem is that it’s the extreme kinds of fun that get all the press. That’s the kind of fun that soft drink commercials are made of. The other, the ordinary kind of fun goes for the most part unnoticed, barely felt.
Which is precisely why so many of us think that we aren’t having fun. Which is precisely why so many of us really aren’t having fun–because even when we are, we think we’re not, if you know what I mean. So we need to take back the fun that we are given on a daily basis: the fun of crunchy cereal, of cold milk and hot coffee, of birdsong and dog wag, of smiles and waves, of warm blankets and light reading, of bringing someone breakfast in bed, of holding someone, of being held.