Did you ever meet anyone whose practices in general just boggled your mind and made you wonder: "How could they possibly think that X or Y is an appropriate thing to do?" Well, the few that have me spinning my spiky wheels are relatives and friends.
I severely dislike not receiving information that concerns my immediate or distant future, especially when money and time are involved. Take, for example, the issues of my cousins. We had heard from our aunt that one of them (a teenager) was spouting a bit of racist nonsense. So we decided to hang out with said cousin and said cousin's younger sibling. Thinking our enthralling conversation would bore them to tears, we decided on a trip to Great Adventure, and invited them along. They never called us with a date, so I eventually called them. We decided on this coming Saturday (I know, GA on a Sat. -- NOT a good idea, but what could we do) and to buy the tickets online. That was over two weeks ago. So, yesterday I give their mom a call and she starts in about how she doesn't think it's a good idea, and that she won't pay for them to stand in line, and how the older cousin went with his friends on Monday and they waited forever, and that this weekend is bad for her, that the younger one can go with another cousin.
Let's review. Not only did she not tell me this when we first discussed the date (and checked with her), neither she nor her son thought it wise to call us and inform us that he had already gone and that she wasn't planning on letting them go. I had to call her and find this out. It's a damn good thing that I hadn't already bought the tickets, because then it would have been relative snafu! And she complains about how irresponsible her kids are, how they don't tell her things, etc. Hmmm...I wonder where they get it from.
So we wash our hands of them and pretend they're not relations. Too bad, they were so sweet when they were young. I guess I can join the CIA after all, now that I've shunned my parientes.
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Today, I go with D. to drop of M.'s car and while I am stopped at a light, some woman rolls into D.'s car. I was turning left, so was she, and I looked back at her, ready to get out. Then the light changes, so I figure I'll pull into the car place down the road and she'll follow. She went blasting by on the outside lane. I got her number though -- her license plate number, that is. She didn't do any visible damage, but I was so mad I cuold have spit llamas. Trying to get away with hitting someone is worse than an accidental tap. The bad part is that, the last time that car was hit, D. didn't get the insurance info from the woman-putting-on-lipstick-while driving who hit him, and when next he took the car in for repair, the styrofoam in the bumper had to be replaced because of that innocent-seeming tap.
Talk about irresponsible! Ten to one she tells the husband or wife and kids and they pick it up.
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This is my playground theory.
When we were small, the playgrounds at schools, parks, etc., were made of metal. They were maximum-fun, maximum height and scare factor, creating endless situations of mayhem and spurring the imagination on to new heights.
I understand that plastic is safer, that metal rusts (and lead paint is obviously horrific), that metal chainlink climbing apparatus and huge fifteen-feet-high wooden totem poles for climbing and sitting on were a wee bit dangerous (though it was great fun for older kids). But never did I hear of anyone dying, falling and injuring themselves, flipping over in the swings, getting caught in the climbers, or any such trauma.
The totem poles were occuppied mostly by older kids, especially the very high one. If a kid was scared, he played on the myriad of other equipment around. If a child fell, it was his carelessness, not the playground equipment's fault (Zachary, I told you not to climb so high and then let go with one hand. Kimmy, do NOT go down the slide face first. If you fall on the ground, no more playing for you.)
Now, with a lack of self-governed safety (meaning children themselves decide (hey, it's not a good idea to leap off of a ten-foot-high beam) and parents actually WATCH their children (a beautiful experience, kids are so great to see playing, they make you feel energetic), a novel concept, I know) comes an inclination to sue the town, the school, and the playground equipment manufacturer, thus ensuring that no one can pay for children to enjoy themselves in the future. More to the point, the child learns that it's NEVER his fault. He fell, and even though the swing is still attached and no other kids have fallen out of it (because none lean back and try to), it must be shoddy workmanship. The kid smacks on the plastic wall with a stick, what does she think is going to happen? Well, the parents think the park should be cleared of sticks and dangerous apparata. They were just telling Betty, who's also not watching her little dear ones (that have bullied a preschooler out of his swing), that they might file a complaint. It could have lasting damage to scrape your knee!
I am, of course, exaggerating. The playground replacement system is not the root of selfishness or the cause of a decline in social responsibility. It is just a minor, semi-example of how we'd rather be right than truthful, rich than just, and manic than happy.
I'm not talking about preschoolers, who will eat bugs and paste and think they can fly backwards when they can't yet do a cartwheel. These have plastic toys for a reason, have lower-sized equipment, etc. I can remember, when a little kid tried to go up the stairs, it ws difficult for him/her. When he got to the top, he stood, looked around, proud, and went down the slide. Once. Then he played on those bouncy toys shaped like animals and on the special toddler swings (because they WILL jump out). Then he probably fell asleep. The older kids made of those inventive designs huge castles, spaceships, and underwater caverns. The new toys are plastic, reproduced, and seem to focus on making kids bounce around in brightly colored play areas with shaky walls and boring tic-tac-toe games. Children's centers have to do this. But parks, parks are where older kids should be able to play. I'd like to build an adult-sized playground. Amusement parks don't count, because they require only the physical exertion of walking and squeezing between people in crowds. How much more fun would exercise be if we used monkey bars for arms and swings for our abs! Hmmm...I'm getting a patent, so don't even try it! I mean, a place where the swings are adult-sized and not brightly colored plastic jobs, where the equipment is elegant and fun, with great, neat curves of metal and wood that make a maze to play tag or hide-and-seek in, where you can dare your friends to jump off of the beam, slide down sideways, or to swing higher.
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Today's unhelpful thought from my dreams: The military should use jingles and epic poems set to music to help them identify and remember the facts on the targets for their snipers, while teaching salsa in a bathtub the size of a barrel on the edge of a road. Yes, I have odd dreams. If you think they're disquieting to read, you should try having them.
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