I didn’t get home until 3 a.m., with just enough time to close my eyes before the alarm clock went off and my wife was singing “time to get up.”

This was going to be one of those days.

I had been roped into a family function, which required me to come early from Coachella where I was enjoying VIP status.

Needless to say, I got up on the wrong side of the bed.

As we made an emergency stop at a coffee shop, I read off the names of the bands whose performances I would be missing so that we could go to the Renaissance Fair, lovingly called the Ren-Fair by all the lords and ladies that attend these sort of functions faithfully.

Before we go any further, let me just get this off my chest; I hate the Renaissance Fair.

I told my wife I would rather have her drag me around the fabric store all day than stare at a bunch of serfs with their cleavages hanging out, gnawing on turkey legs, making medieval fart jokes, and that’s just the women.

Anyway, before I get stuck on a tangent, Ren-Fair; not my favorite place, you get the picture.

So there I was, despite my overwhelming abhorrence for the recreation of the middle ages, walking around doing my best sarcastic jackass impersonation, all the while not caring what effect my attitude was having on my wife and friends.

Finally they had had enough.

“Why didn’t you just stay home?” said one of my friends.

“Yeah, you have been a real A-hole all day,” chimed my wife.

I thought I was being so sarcastically witty all day, but all I was doing was making everyone else feel bad for trying to have good time.

All of the sudden I had realized that I had not said one positive thing all day.

For a moment I was a little embarrassed, I had spent the whole day being mean and cranky to everyone around me.

I took a moment to find a new perspective on this day that I had written off as an obligated misadventure.

They were right; I had been a jerk.

I decided it was up to me to have a good time or pout about what else I could be doing.

That next activity to attend was the joust.

I have to admit the joust was pretty cool, so I held on to that spark of enthusiasm.

By the time they had introduced all the knights, I was in full force.

I booed at the black knight, who we were told was French, the audience yelled things like stinky frog, and I even got them to join me in a short chorus of “Ribbit, Ribbit.”

I accused the silver knight of making his suit of armor out of old spoons or tin foil; names like can opener and spoony also came spilling from the crowd.

When the green knight made his appearance I accused him of wearing the color of envy.

I yelled and screamed until my voice went horse.

It was great; I finally found an outlet for all of my sarcastic remarks.

The only difference was that I was having a good time.

I wasn’t complaining, I was cheering; I wasn’t whining, I was heckling.

By the end of the day I realized that no matter where I am I can have a good time.

Instead of being the life of the party I had chosen to be the grim reaper of the renaissance.

I started to notice the good things. Like the fact that the Ren-Fair serves Guinness and that I was spending time with friends and family.

Fun, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. I just had to open my eyes.