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Too much fun can lead to an achy possibility

July 15, 2012
Messenger News

You know how when you laugh hard, it easily turns into crying?

That same irrational combination holds together extreme happiness and the worst kind of depression - the depression that follows too much fun.

I don't care what Trace Adkins means when he sings "no matter what they say I've done, well I ain't never had too much fun." You can have too much fun.

I had so much fun last weekend my cheeks hurt. That was annoying, at best. We laughed and cackled - that's a laugh gone way too overboard - and laughed some more, and pretty soon my poor cheeks ached with the fun of it.

For the third time since April, I was in Denver with my daughter. The laughing lasted till I got away from my train seat-mate, a strange woman, on the trip back to Iowa. She couldn't say anything if it wasn't a complaint. Why she ever crawled on board, I'll never know. She did share her bing cherries about 2 o'clock in the morning, and that was nice, but doggone it, I paid for those cherries three times over trying to seem interested. Had I known the required payment, I would have eaten a lot more cherries.

Daughter Dana has a button-making machine, and I almost missed the train because it actually left on time, and the time had been moved forward from what we were used to, but that's beside the point.

Between the grins and giggles, I latched onto the kid for hugs any time I could. They - those innocuous people known only as they - say a person needs at least four hugs a day to survive, even more to grow. Since my life is lamentably short on hugging, I'd explain away my arm lock on her with that bit of information - that a body needs four hugs a day to survive.

"Researchers proved that," I insisted.

"Who did the research?" she asked. "You?"

She's got a pretty good hold on my mind, but she never backed away from a hug. No one should ever back away from a hug. When somebody's arms wrap you in warmth, never back away. Sometimes you can surprise somebody with a hug, but it's never the wrong thing to do.

OK, there are some people who prefer to remain hugless, but even they can be swayed, I'm betting.

At any rate, when I'm around Dana, every laugh is like a hug. While the positive after-effects from this last trip should keep me hugged for a week or so now that I'm back in Dodge, I may just have to hire someone to stop by the house each day - but not too early in the morning - just to hug me and start my day out right.

And I'd find somebody to take drives with me and not care where we go. If we get lost, we'll drive until we recognize something. We'll eat breakfast in Kansas City if we have to.

Yes, I'd really do that. Like a fisherman, just for the halibut.

So long friends, until the next time when we're together.

Sandy Mickelson, retired lifestyle editor of The Messenger, may be reached at mcsalt@frontiernet.net.

 
 

 

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