I am an ardent fan of Calvin and Hobbes, and this cartoon, while less funny than some, raises a very good point: why don't grownups go out to play?
Note: I have no idea whether the site producing these cartoons is in breach of copyright, so I hope Mr Watterson is getting his dues out of it.
When did it become such a shlepp to go outside and expend vast amounts of energy? When did it stop being fun and start being a chore? Why do I have to drag my tail out to go for a run around the park next to the office at lunch time? I have a punchbag hanging from a beam in my garage - why is it a hassle to go and beat the whatsit out of it? Why do I betake myself to masters' swimming training and then groan as the coach writes the sets up on the board?
Mind you, my husband plays ice hockey with a bunch of "silver skaters" (non contact and no slap shots) on a Sunday night, and there is only one criterion that has to be filled in order for him to feel up to going: he has to have a pulse! He can be on death's doorstep with a raging fever, he can be suffering from an injury, he can have a boatload of work to do, but he goes to hockey, come hell or high water. He and his peers have no trouble "going out to play" ice hockey - and none of the others have his excuse of being Swedish, so what is it?
This post isn't really going anywhere, I'm just ruminating...
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
Why don't grownups go out to play?
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