Column: All fuddy-duddies need to unite

Imagine me — basically a product of the ‘60s where fuddy-duddy-ism was outlawed — seriously in danger of becoming one myself.

Some would argue that I’ve been a fuddy-duddy all my life. Yes, when folks get together and regale each other with their “when I was young and stupid” stories, I simply smile and nod. All the while I’m thinking, “Whew; dodged a bullet on that one.”

Still, there are times when I realize that I could have been a bit braver, taken a few more risks or broken out of the mold. I might have had some experiences that would have made me a better person — or at the very least, more fun.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not talking cigarettes, alcohol or drugs here. This fuddy-duddy never even had the desire, and for that, I’m eternally grateful. Neither did I smash into the neighbors’ mailboxes or egg their homes; it just never occurred to me. And I’ve nixed any idea of tattoos or wild haircuts. Why, I had to be convinced to get my ears pierced — once!

Still, I do my best to “cowboy up” and broaden my horizons occasionally. Speaking of cowboys, I used to ride horses which some folks dub downright scary. I found it great fun, though. As I took in the backcountry high above the trail in a saddle, I was especially glad that the horse didn’t want to fall any more than I did.

While I typically like nearly any kind of cuisine, I tend to avoid “strange food.” I don’t care how much a friend might insist I try some weird menu, whenever I hear the words “Oh, it tastes just like chicken,” I’m immediately suspect.

I’m not much into physical pain so I’m a fuddy-duddy when it comes to most sports. When I see a downhill skier on TV, for example, my knees ache simply watching, and I politely decline the “try it you’ll like it” entreaty. Of course, with my aversion toward getting beaned with a ball of any kind, I tend to shy away from most sports that require an airborne orb.

I don’t think I could be a part of an escape room either. These attractions are all the rage today for a “fun, interactive experience” with friends and family. The room has a particular motif with all kinds of related obstacles, puzzles and mysteries the team must solve in order to escape the room within an hour. For instance, the group could be in the Old West trying to stop the hanging of an innocent man. Or players might find themselves aboard a spaceship, hurtling toward an asteroid they must destroy to save Earth.

And if I were in an escape room, I can picture myself being scared that my team could never solve the puzzle in time. We’d remain locked in the room forever wishing that, this once, we’d ignored those claims of “try it; it’ll be fun!”

Do I hear choruses of “Marguerite, you really need to get out more,” and “You do know the rooms aren’t literally knocked?”

I know it’s not glamorous or exciting or even fun, but it’s me, and I’m OK with it. In fact, I’ve decided to adopt a new mantra: Long live fuddy-duddies.