“Fun-Challenged” and Bubba Gump Shrimp Company

My husband and I are fortunate enough to be friends with a couple of guys who are about forty years younger than we are.

One often describes himself as a “loveable (computer) geek, which he is. The other is a veteran kickboxer and professional bouncer.

My husband, who is of course both brilliant and resourceful, suggested we take them to the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. restaurant near Disneyland for a meal adventure.

The food was high quality and the prices reasonable, especially for the highly touristy Disney area. But that is not the most important, to me …

The most important thing is that it was fun. The waiter was full of movie trivia, most of which could be easily answered by consulting the pseudo-graffiti on the table. The walls were full of the kind of clutter that makes me feel at home, like a bust of Thomas Jefferson, which happened to be just like the one that had been stolen from my apartment when I was in the Army at Ft. Bragg, North Carolina.

There was even some vintage Mickey and Minnie memorabilia, looking like the 1940’s or so.

It was fun.

Our guests were having fun. Not joking — the way my brain always seems to be doing, what with putting together puns and alternative meanings, remembering that life is an onstage improvisation. More like “kidding” — like “I got a plastic glass and you got a glass so let’s hit each other over the head with what we got and see who dies first” — but clearly nobody was going to hit anybody.

“Kidding.” All of a sudden, the word made perfect sense.

I am always asking the adults in my practice when they last had “fun,” or what they do for kicks. They usually look at me with a blank stare and tell me they can’t remember.

Now I am going to tell them “act like a kid.”

It doesn’t cost anything. It is permissible, perhaps even laudatory for an adult to do this every once in a bit.

It is its own reward.

“Adult play” is more necessary than anyone believes.