Something I’ve had a minor beef with for years now (as some of my old friends will be able to attest to, as this is a soapbox I’ve climbed onto from time to time) is how depressingly “safe” most of today’s playgrounds are. There are any number of reasons why this is so*, but the end result has been a constant and (to me) somewhat depressing “dumbing down” of playgrounds over the years. Any piece of equipment that could conceivably cause an injury more serious than a minor bruise has been torn out and replaced with rounded plastic contraptions that, while probably “safer”…are also boring.
(Be warned: gross generalizations follow. I know that there are specific instances that run counter to the general theme of my rant — and I consider them exceptions that prove the rule.)
Teeter totters? Long gone. Those great old merry-go-rounds that you’d get the older kids or parents to spin faster and faster until the smaller kids started flying off? Also a thing of the past. Heck, even today’s slides are mere stunted shadows of their former selves.
I was thrilled, then, to run across the Pinehurst Playfield this evening while Prairie and I were on a walk. We’d turned down a street we hadn’t walked down before, just a couple blocks away from our apartment, and heard kids playing. Once we got close enough to tell that there was a Little League game going on, we turned in to take a closer look at the park.
Then we saw the playground…and I couldn’t resist.
A jungle gym with lots of climbing bits, ropes, and various ways to clamber around on (and fall off of) it, including a marvelous slide with no rails that tips to one side. A…spinny thing…that had me so dizzy I could barely stand up. It was marvelous!
So, I spent some time being about seven years old or so, while Prairie giggled and did her best to get some shots of me being a kid (I think she did a pretty good job, too).
Hooray for dangerous playground equipment!
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