May 3, 2026
Think back to a moment that was peak fun.
Not just a good day. Not just a pleasant experience. The peak FUN (with a capital F-U-N). The kind that still comes to mind years later without any effort.
Picture it, imagine it.
Now let me make some guesses about what was happening in that memory.
There’s probably another person or people in there. It happened in a specific place. There’s now a story you enjoy telling about it.
None of these things are a coincidence.
Now think about what doesn’t show up in that memory. I suspect what didn’t make it in there were many of the modern conveniences and escapes built into our everyday lives.
This is the difference between real fun and fake fun.
Fake fun is everywhere right now. It’s engineered to feel like something is happening when nothing really is. The average teenager spends 5+ hours a day on their phone. Not because they love it. Most of them honestly wish it wasn’t that way.
That’s not real fun. It’s an escape that looks like fun from the outside.
Here’s a weird observation. On at least three different continents, I’ve seen some version of the same thing: groups of kids laughing hysterically while playing with a stick and a tire.
One kid uses the stick to roll the tire down the road. Other kids join in. They make a game out of it. Nobody told them what to do. Those kids in different places didn’t learn from each other - they just started playing.
That’s an example of real fun.
Real fun is active. It almost always involves other people. It is something you can see, sense, smell, and hear, while doing something with your body and your attention. The ingredients don’t have to be overly complicated. It’s just social, creative, and unscripted.
Real fun is also how kids build friendships that actually mean something.
There’s a depth to a friendship formed at camp that comes directly from spending hours in the same place, doing things together, going through the day side by side.
That’s not something you can manufacture on a group chat. It comes from shared time in shared space, and there’s no shortcut.
Real fun always leaves you with something to tell, and with something to call back to later.
A camper who shoots a bow and arrow for the first time has a story.
A kid who watched archery videos for two hours does not. That seems obvious when you put it that way, but it’s worth sitting with for a second.
The memories that become part of us are the ones that get told to new friends, future roommates, and people you meet years from now. Those memories have a person, a place, and a thing that happened.
They are stories. And the stories we collect during childhood are not a small thing. They add up to the story of who we grow into.
Fake fun doesn’t make it into that story. There’s nothing to share. It feels good in the moment, but fake fun robs us of the story because it replaced an opportunity to go do something with friends in the real world.
That’s the real cost of it.
A few weeks at camp is a concentrated dose of real fun.
Every day has a person. A place. Something that happens.
It’s more than sticks and tires, obviously, but it’s very real.
Kids are moving, playing, trying things they have never tried, building friendships by spending real time together.
They come home with stories, even ones they don’t immediately recognize as stories.
Just ask them about the funniest thing that happened in their cabin (they’ll remember). Ask them what they learned to do (they’ll want to tell you). Ask them about someone they met (you’ll hear a lot about them).
That’s what real fun leaves behind. And it’s the thing that becomes a part of who they are.
Erec Sir