The throng of people heading in my direction is not a good sign. Like a fight after school or coming out of the bathroom in extra innings of a baseball game, if the crowds are headed in the opposite direction, you probably missed something. As I make my way towards Old Faithful it’s obvious- I’m going the wrong way. I didn’t check the eruption schedule (schedule checking wasn’t allowed for this road trip, part of the non-plan plan) but luck has a history of being a good companion during my road trips. Showing up minutes prior to an eruption was too much to ask from lady luck.  As I walk into the viewing area the benches are deserted save a lone teenager staring at her Iphone.

A walking path winds through the Old Faithful geyser complex around small steam pools and bending rock formations. Steam rises from the earth in every direction. The sun sets behind the forested hills in the distance giving the early evening a soft pinkish glow. A few couples and families walk along the path. It’s the time of the evening when people stroll off a great dinner or the day’s stress from vacation activities. Someone says “9:30”.  I speculate that’s the time of the next eruption and look at my phone: 8:35. Tonight is a crisp, beautiful Yellowstone summer evening and I decide to stroll off my chicken sandwich. As usual, I’m not far along the path when I climb into my head….

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As a Marine in my early twenties I participated in my fair share of random silliness. Sometimes instigator, sometimes willing participant, in was all in good fun. Well, most of it was good fun. Based at El Toro in Orange County, CA plenty of fun could be found for kids our age. As Marines we had a lot of responsibility but we were still kids. And kids want to play.

After a night of putting a few away at one of Newport Beach’s fine drinking establishments a few of us were invited to a get-together at a friend’s apartment. Two A.M. was more of a nuisance than a stopping point in those days and we gladly accepted. The get-together was a bummer but we learned the complex had a hot tub. This may come as a shock, but Uncle Sam doesn’t spring for hot tubs on Marine bases. $160 million dollar fighter jets? Yes. Hot tubs for the Few, the Proud? Not in the budget. We didn’t have suits so the three of us dropped trou and jumped in; boxers, not briefs. Two couples had escaped the party as well. The tub felt crowded and the remaining beer disappeared quick. As usual, we always felt a little awkward around civilians so thirty minutes after arriving it was time to go.

Along the walk back to the car we found the apartment’s tennis courts. For some reason (reason wasn’t a big player in our decision making in those days) it was decided to take off our skivvies and play “tennis”. The details are fuzzy. I was in the far court while my friend Jeff occupied the near court. Our other friend declined to participate. Or was the chair umpire. I don’t remember. Jeff served, we volleyed. Jeff won a point. I won a point. At first your drunken mind wants to run around having these lavish long fake volleys a la a Grand Slam final but man wasn’t meant to run around naked. At least not this man.

Jeff served one last time. I returned and he “hit” a sharp volley down the line and as I lunged to return with a wicked cross court salvo of my own, I found out we were not alone. A couple sat intimately in the dark corner and my lunge brought me ten feet in front of them. Standing before them as I was brought into this world. I only remember saying “sorry”, and thinking how ridiculous it was my right hand was closed as if I had a racquet in it.

It was silly dumb fun.

As I get older silly dumb fun exists less in my life. As once a purveyor of such activities I don’t like it’s lack of existence in my life. I don’t mean the naked athletic variety but the day to day small fun things that make life better – occur fewer and far between. The focus becomes on the large fun. The large fun list is easy. Racing flat track. Hiking Prince Edward Island. Riding a motorcycle through Southeast Asia. Spending a week in New York City partying like a rock star. Returning to Japan. Sailing…..anywhere.

If Acceptance is the last stage of dealing with something then I’m where I need to be. I accept it. I need more silly dumb fun in my life! Hallelujah! Bring it on!  I know it is a state of mind as much as running around naked but there are silly dumb fun things to do. I want to do one right now. I stop and rub my hand along my beard like I always do when intense thinking is required.  I’ll think on it.

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I make my way back to Old Faithful at 9:30. Besides the Edward Van Halen variety this is my first eruption. A large crowd heads towards the viewing area and we are all headed in the same direction. Couples cling to each other, young children ride on their father’s shoulders, and people from all over the world wait in anticipation. I’m flying solo and worry I’ve taken too many photos on my walk. My battery is near dead.

More steam rises from Miss Faithful and in the twilight I mistake it for the beginning of the eruption. I snap a photo but the steam wisps into the night sans eruption. This happens again. I’m not the only one fooled as a few oohs and aahs come from the viewing area. I hold up my phone to check the time and it says 9:35 before the screen goes black. In the distance the earth rumbles and there she goes. Camera flashes light up the eruption area as thousands document the display from Mother Nature. I laugh, put my phone in my pocket and enjoy the show.

Silly. Dumb. Fun.