Eightysixth

Fun.

The concept of "fun" or perhaps rather, the experience of "fun" is constantly changing, developing and evolving. What you thought of as fun when you were 3, no longer is enough. The same thing could be said of humor (...although you might not think it based on some of the movies people go to see). But fun, maybe as a youngin' you thought sitting in the sand was fun. You might not even had a toy to play with in the sand, you just sat there and enjoyed yourself.

Now you're 7 and you think playing with your friends are fun. Toys are always fun, their form is all that changes. But now you're a little older and playing with your toys by yourself is not as fun as playing with someone else, and perhaps someone else's toys.

Now you're 12 and you don't really play with toys, perhaps you've come to appreciate bike rides or fishing or video games or making forts with no help from your parents (of course). You might not necessarily have to be with your friends, but you'd much rather be.

Now you're 16 and you're too cool for stuff (except maybe video games) and your idea of fun is just hanging out with your friends. Doesn't really matter where you are, just so long as there aren't any parents around to bother you and take away from your fun. Just as long as you're momentarily free from responsibility. Breath in that bit of freedom.

Now you're moving out of home and this is your very last day to have fun. You wish you could go back in time and have more of it, to make every single moment count and squeeze every ounce of fun you can out of life. But you can't and it's too late for "what-ifs, should-haves and hot-damns". What do you do now? Work.

And now you're retired and finally don't have to work. You get to have fun again! Ah, that 5 o'clock in the morning air sure feels good. Time to wait for the newspaper to arrive and start up that first cup 0'joe. What's first today? Golf? Yes, and then soup and sandwiches and then a nap and then lawn bowling and then tea and then watch a game show and then supper and then time for bed at 9pm sharp.

Now you're dead and the fun either has just begun or ended abruptly and you're wishing for those years of babies screaming and kids running around and- maybe not. But at least you got to have fun and was also able to read this blog. But you're dead so enough already.

WOTD? Yes, thanks:

Grenadier - (n) a member of a European regiment formerly armed with grenades

So do you become a Grenadier once you've thrown all your grenades? Are you a Grenadee while you still have them?

Here's your haiku:

Ruby shining bright

Luring those who stray too far

To its icy warmth.