a little improvisation

(Original Post - June 2012)

A solitary slide sits silently in the middle of an ugly piece of land. There are no monkey bars from which to hang, no swings from which to shriek delight, and no see-saws from which to bawl when your friend on the other end suddenly jumps off, causing your rear end to plummet five feet to the solid and decidedly abrupt stop that awaits you at the ground.

It’s just a slide.

We usually go to the playground down the street when we want to get out for some fresh air and cheap thrills. However, as subdivisions sprout up around us like the weeds I described in a long forgotten post, a new playground has finally emerged. Actually, it’s not yet a playground. Did I mention it’s just a slide?

My wife suggested a couple of days ago that we go to this one; it being a change of scenery if nothing else. So we throw the kids in the wagon, and off we go.

I can’t say that I was entirely disappointed when we arrived. We had the entire place to ourselves, which is great. Too often when we go to the “Play Park” on the other end of the neighborhood, we find ourselves overrun by prepubescents who equate their coolness with the sheer volume of the voice; sporadic squeaks and embarrassing cracking included. So this new park, as yet unnamed, offered us our own space to make adventure. And it had a pretty cool slide. Actually, I’m not being entirely sarcastic there. The slide had a set of steps, a ladder, a little ramp, and a miniature slide on the side, if a quick side exit were necessary, I guess.

It would become “The Pirate Ship”.

We were playing and climbing around the slide when I noticed Norah had walked off into the vast wasteland of rock, gravel, unused asphalt, and occasional strip of Tyvek (A subdivision under construction is a beautiful thing). As she strolled toward us humming a childlike tune, I shattered her tranquility by yelling, “Norah! Watch out for that shark! Get back to the ship!!”. The cloud of dust that kicked up behind Norah was enough to tell me that she was thinking 1) How close is this shark he’s talking about, and 2) Where the HELL is this ship?! The vocab might not be the same, but the terror in her eyes was unmistakable. She flies toward the slide, makes it just in time, and collapses next to me on our ship. We sit safely on the port side, and look out over the briny depths and undiscovered islands.

We are in “Pirate Land”.

This afternoon, we dared leave the ship in our trusty rowboat (wagon), and ventured to a nearby island. Norah and James assured me that no harm would befall us, as the branches they held aloft were the sharpest swords this side of Singapore.

The feathers of the crows and seagulls that we found were actually those of Polly, the mischievous parrot that rarely leaves the shoulder of Pirate Captain Moody.

My mailbox keys (which we found under a rock marked ‘X’ with a chalk rock) were actually those of the pirates, and would undoubtedly open the treasure chest that was hidden nearby.

It was nearby, but was incredibly hard to find. A dull piece of junk metal about the size of a shoebox. And inside, treasure beyond your wildest dreams. Sparkling in the sun, smooth and shiny, clinking as only true pirate gold can. And to think I didn’t want to break that $20 to get a coffee at Tim’s. Who could have known the dividends that this bit of spare change would pay. But our adventure was not without it’s tragedy...

On the other side of the island, we found the burnt remains of a once glorious pirate ship; a long, two-masted brigantine that now sat in a heap of hard, crumbling ash and soot. (I’m sure that the truck driver who dumped the asphalt there had no idea that a small group of explorers would one day stand upon the pile and silently mourn the loss.) Norah said that she was sure the pirates were okay, and that they’d just swam away. I told her I wasn’t so sure. The ship had been made entirely of wood and the sails of canvas. The fire must have been incredibly intense, and the many, many kegs of pirate rum below decks must have added immensely to the already horrible conflagration of flame and death that…

(Insert weird looks from my kids here).

The short thought – There is adventure everywhere. Kids see that and they appreciate it. And they create it. Sometimes, they just need that little spark to kindle the boundless potential for fun and imagination that resides within every kid, and within every barren, rocky, undeveloped playground.

I was going to insert a picture of “Pirate Land” within this posting to give a little perspective; a picture to help the reader see Pirate Land in all its glory. Then I thought about it, and I figured that most would probably look at the picture and think one thing.

It’s just a slide…

Just a thought – Create a world.

"The world of reality has its limits; the world of imagination is boundless..."

- Jean-Jacques Rousseau