You Tore My Playground Down!

Had the pleasure of helping with a move yesterday.

As I was following the caravan of cars and boxes to their final destination, (until they need to be moved again)we passed by the streets where I used to live as a little kid. Amanda's new apartment (for this is the gal we were moving) was but a few streets past mine, so after finishing the haul I took a little trip down memory lane. I didn't even stay for pizza, that's how exciting this was for me.

Some of you may have grown up in the same old house, and years and years have gone by and you don't really notice too much a change. So much has changed between the time I lived there and today. Apart from growing four times my size, becoming a dapper young man, and becoming a model citizen of my country (for which I always planned to be), it seemed so tiny from when I remembered it last. I expected that, but it hit me.

I always wondered why my mother would let us roam the neighborhood for hours, trusting us to be safe and not cause any trouble. She could practically spit from our house and hit any of us at any corner of the 'hood. And then we knew it was time for dinner. Kidding. My mother can't spit that far. Though she does hold the Arundel High School record.

I remembered friend's houses and the shit that we got up to. I remembered the mean, old bastard who wouldn't let us play baseball in the field next to his house, and I remembered the woods behind the playground where my brother Chris tied up a kid to a metal chair, and tortured him by leaning him over a pile of stinging nettles. I now remember my first naked lady, sipping on RealLemon and looking through this guy's SCRAPBOOK of playboy centerfolds. That was enterprising of him now that I think about it. You have to sift through all that writing to get to anything good nowadays.

But gone is the playground. I listened to "Kokomo" on a friend's radio there. I learned that spitting was illegal there. I learned the word "gullible" there.
But most of all, I was a kid there. And they took it away. And here I am torn about it, as if I was just coming back after all these years to meet up with Casey, David, and Tim to have a go on the swings. They should have called me first. And I would've told them to kiss my ass.

There aren't any more woods or playgrounds. Just a plain, old football field. I guess the kids in the neighborhood will find something else to do. Where do kids play anymore?