Today I Choose to be Entertained – How to be Entertained

When I was younger, being entertained meant concerts, nights out, or big adventures. These days, my most entertaining moments are quieter, more ridiculous—and often accidental. Like the time Curtis fell asleep during a movie and started snoring louder than the soundtrack, and Tyler and I couldn’t stop laughing. Or the time I discovered a silly chicken video online and ended up crying with laughter alone in my kitchen. Entertainment doesn’t always have to come from grand plans. Sometimes it’s choosing levity over seriousness, even in the middle of chaos. It’s learning to find amusement in life’s absurdities—because Lord knows, there are plenty. If I wait for Broadway-level entertainment, I’ll miss the humor in everyday life.

Last week, I watched our neighbor try to catch her escaped chickens for twenty minutes. Better than any sitcom. She’d corner one, dive, miss, and the chicken would squawk indignantly while she face-planted in the grass. I made popcorn and watched from the window like it was theater. Curtis joined me, and we provided commentary like sports announcers. “She’s going for Gertrude… OH! Denied by a superior wing flap!”

Or discovering TikTok at 61. Yes, TikTok. Jesse showed me one video of a cat that looked perpetually shocked, and now my algorithm thinks I need hourly updates on animals with human expressions. I’m not mad about it. Sometimes after a brutal day, three minutes of a golden retriever failing at being sneaky is exactly the medicine I need.

The Evolution of Entertainment

In my 30s, entertainment required planning, babysitters, decent clothes. It was an event. Now, entertainment is stumbling across Curtis trying to figure out the TV remote (we have four, somehow they’re all necessary), watching him talk to it like it might respond. “I just want the news, not NASA!”

Entertainment used to cost money. Now it’s free and everywhere: The couple at the grocery store having a passionate debate about pasta shapes. The dog walker whose tiny Yorkie is clearly walking HER. My own reflection trying to put on mascara without my glasses (spoiler: it’s not pretty, but it’s hilarious).

Finding Entertainment in the Mundane

The Workplace Comedy Show
My coworker who announces every bathroom trip. The printer that makes demonic noises but somehow still works. The CEO who can’t unmute himself on Zoom after three years. If you watch work like a sitcom, it’s infinitely more bearable.

The Family Circus
Tyler explaining cryptocurrency to Curtis. Curtis explaining the Cold War to Tyler. Neither understanding the other but both fully committed to their explanations. I sit back with my coffee and enjoy the show.

The Body Comedy Hour
The noise my knees make standing up—like bubble wrap being murdered. The way my glasses fog when I open the dishwasher. My body’s new party trick of random hiccups at formal moments. If you can’t laugh at your body’s betrayals, you’ll cry.

Entertainment as Survival

During Curtis’s hospital stay, entertainment became survival. We made bingo cards of medical jargon. Gave nicknames to the nurses based on their catchphrases. Created backstories for other patients based on their visitors. It wasn’t making light of serious situations—it was finding light IN serious situations.

The night nurse who sang softly while doing rounds—we called her “The Midnight DJ.” The doctor who looked exactly like a young Elvis—”Dr. Presley” made even bad news sound smooth. The hospital chapel that played what we swear was muzak versions of AC/DC. These moments of absurdity kept us sane.

The Joy of Low-Stakes Entertainment

I don’t need to be impressed anymore. I need to be amused. And amusement is everywhere when you lower your entertainment bar:

• Watching squirrels navigate the “squirrel-proof” bird feeder (spoiler: squirrels always win)
• Reading Amazon reviews for things like banana slicers (people have OPINIONS)
• Listening to Curtis explain technology to tech support
• Watching cooking shows while eating cereal for dinner
• Finding typos in serious documents (“pubic meeting” never gets old)

Creating Your Own Entertainment

The Running Commentary
Narrate your day like David Attenborough. “The suburban woman approaches the coffee maker. She’s done this dance many times, yet still seems surprised by the beeping.”

The Alternative Plot
Create elaborate backstories for strangers. That man buying 47 cans of tuna? Obviously training cats for the circus. That woman with all the birthday candles? Clearly a time traveler stocking up.

The Game-ification
Turn boring tasks into games. How many items can I put away during commercial breaks? Can I fold fitted sheets while explaining the plot of Game of Thrones? Points for difficulty.

Entertainment Without Guilt

At 61, I’ve stopped apologizing for what entertains me. Yes, I watch reality TV about people living in Alaska. Yes, I follow Instagram accounts devoted entirely to miniature cooking. Yes, I laugh at my own jokes—often before I finish telling them.

This is the freedom of midlife entertainment: You don’t need anyone else to validate your joy. If it makes you laugh, it’s worthy entertainment.

Today’s Choice

Today, choose to be entertained by something completely ordinary. Watch the drama of birds at a feeder. Listen to couples navigate IKEA. Read product reviews for hotels you’ll never visit. Find the comedy in your completely normal, absolutely absurd life.

Because entertainment isn’t about what you watch—it’s about how you watch. And at 61, I’ve learned that everything is entertainment if you’re paying attention. Even this moment, right now, reading these words—somewhere in it is something absurd enough to make you smile.

Look for it. It’s there. It’s always there.