We had a well-equipped playground at the end of our street. Well equipped with apparatus made out of metal and not weather-resistant, splinter-prone wood.

We played a wild game of playground equipment tag called “witchy-poo.” The rule was you were safe if on a piece of equipment with your feet off the ground. The “it” kid couldn’t pull you off the equipment, but could use creative motivation to induce you to drop.

Before embarking on a game, we would rub the slide with wax paper to make it much faster than the manufacturer intended. Fast enough to leave 3ft sneaker skid marks at the bottom.

The entire game could be subtitled, “The most reckless way to use a playground.” If someone was on the merry-go-round, we’d push it as fast as we could and then yank backwards, hoping to jar the occupant off. If someone was on the swings, we’d push them so high, the chains would bounce and twist, leaving the swinger to determine the timing for the best parabolic arc out the front to scramble up the slide before being caught.

Teeter totters seem like a game of cooperation, you push and then I push, unless it’s a game of “witchy-poo.” Then the witch yanked down the high end and let go, leaving you a split second to jump before a spine jarring return to earth.

We had but one parent-imposed rule on our outdoor play: we weren’t allowed to break any bones. Short of that, anything went.

I made two important life decisions on that play ground. The first was more of an outcome than a decision. Though it didn’t affect me as a kid, I cannot spin or swing today without instant motion sickness. (The first time I wrapped a pallet of boxes on the Amazon ship dock, I got so dizzy I couldn’t walk straight.)

The second was a decision. I got into an argument as a 7 yr old with a 5 yr old that led to a fist fight. He connected twice and it hurt so much that five decades later I remember thinking, “I better learn how to talk my way out of trouble. Fist fights are not for me.”

There’s no moral at the end of this story; only that, we played hard in the way that kids do and did and will again.

FB 6/25/22