too much fun

There are a lot of positives to being of Irish Catholic descent. Wit, work ethic, poetry, and the Claddagh: love loyalty friendship. There’s also the inherent morbidity and belief that something bad is gonna happen, that life must be suffered and we should not expect too much. That’s why the Obits are called the “Irish sports pages.”

“There is a courageous wisdom; there is also a false reptile prudence, the result, not of caution, but of fear.”
– Edmund Burke

My cousin has a story from childhood that exemplifies the ethos. She was in grade school… it was winter break and her friends/neighbors invited her to sleep over. She had a blast … in that amazing way when you are pre-pubescent: aware enough to appreciate autonomy yet still blissfully carefree in the world. The friend invited her to sleep over a second night in a row. My cousin had no responsibilities, there was no school and no reason NOT to extend the slumber party a second night. She asked her Mom for permission … Her mother, my Aunt (who I love dearly) got all flustered and answered, “No, you can’t.” Cousin: “Why not?” Aunt: “It’s just too much fun.”

Even as a little girl my cousin could sense the absurdity of her Mom’s answer. Over time it became a symbolic story to help us differentiate our generation from theirs. Recently life has been so good and I’ve been so happy, at moments I get tempted into the “too much fun” mentality. But then I shake it off. Because there’s no such thing as too much fun, too much love. And we are not slaves to our past.

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