playground

There are few things sadder than a closed playground, especially the ones that are set up for really little kids. They tore down the one at Constitution Park near our house last week in preparation for a large reconfiguration of the entire space. We knew about it ahead of time only because some statute requires notification of all residents within 500 feet of a public works construction project. There was a flyer in our mailbox with a link to a park district site that detailed the whole thing.

Others in the area—pretty much everyone who lives more than 500 feet away—were shocked to find the playground dismantled and fenced off. Our park district board is hopelessly and utterly corrupt, operating in the grip of a majority cabal who abhors transparency. They used to broadcast the board meetings on YouTube, but during a contentious period a couple of years ago where the cabal was marching ahead to put AstroTurf down on our baseball fields, apparently too many of the rabble were roused, and they started showing up at the public meetings, complaining.

I went to a couple of those sessions. It was all very respectful and reasonable, the way local boards should operate, though it was clear from the pained, exasperated expressions on the faces of the pro-plastic majority that they were not in the mood to have their grand plans challenged by the plebes. They went ahead and turfed the softball field¹ over the strenuous objections of the residents, and then they stopped broadcasting the meetings. I suppose that’s of a piece with our national politics now, too; the park district was ahead of its time. People can still go to the board meetings, of course, but now that the public is largely in the dark about the larger agenda, attendance is thin. Not that it’d matter much. It’s not like they care what the voter-taxpayer thinks.²

Anyway. We have many good memories of that playground from when the kids were little. As soon as the weather was decent, and in a lot of cases even when it wasn’t, many of our days started there. Preschoolers aren’t really hip to the idea of starting the day slowly while mom and dad shake out the cobwebs with a cup of coffee. If the littles are up at 5:30, they see no reason not to be at the playground by 5:45. So it was for us, and so it is (now, was) for so many other young families. I saw them out there every morning as I set out on my runs. I can only imagine the meltdowns that occurred last week when they found it gone.

To be fair to the park district, their plans for this new park look pretty good. They’re moving the playground a little bit to the east, and it will be geared for kids from ages 2-12 (the old one was for 2-5), and, importantly, it will have inclusive features for kids who are differently abled.³ They’re also putting up a small building with public rest rooms, a great idea, and improving the baseball field to have 60’ base paths, with a dirt infield as God intended. I suspect they wanted to plasticize that one, too, but that part of the plot is actually owned by the school district, who I would imagine said “no fucking way are you putting a cancer field on our land.”

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end, I’ve heard it said. The park is scheduled to reopen in June next year. Hopefully the local parents of preschoolers will find other ways to keep them entertained at the crack of dawn.

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Some other updates, since I’ve been a poor correspondent of late:

• I tested positive for COVID again last week. I think this is my fourth time; I’m getting up there into Bolsonaro territory. It’s super mild and I’m fine, isolating in the guest room. I did cancel a trip to Mexico City next week, which seems like the right thing to do, but also maybe a bit anachronistic at this point. People just seem to do what they want. We’ve memory-holed the whole thing, haven’t we. An entire society, suppressing massive trauma…what could go wrong?
• Pepper continues to be awesome, if a handful. We got the DNA results back, which show her to be 50% German Shepherd, 25% Siberian Husky, and 25% random mutt. In retrospect, her coloring and ears did look like a German Shepherd from the get-go, though her short-haired coat isn’t quite right for either of those big breeds. There was some boxer in there, maybe it’s that. She’s extremely energetic and very much a puppy, but training is going pretty well. We do need to get a little help with curbing her tendencies to eat the furniture, and especialy to nip at us when she gets excited. That’s dangerous, and will only get worse when she’s twice her current size. We’re looking for the right trainer and I’m confident she’ll overcome it. There’s a great dog in there waiting to emerge.

• I can’t say we’ve really settled into whatever the empty nest rhythm will be around here; Pepper and my work travel (and now, temporarily, my isolation) have upended any kind of routine. We’re just winging it. Or maybe that is the routine?
• I am looking for a charity that provides direct legal relief or other aid to victims of ICE kidnappings and their families, ideally one focused here in the Chicago-ish area. My googling has only returned some fairly dubious stuff. If you know of one, please let me know.
• For you locals, our annual Halloween show, The Exquisite Corpse Ball, is coming up at Beat Kitchen on October 24. This is always one of the absolute highlights of the year. Only five bands are on the bill this year, so we all get to stretch out a little more. I’m going to spend the afternoon today programming my delays for maximum Edgeness…come to the show and see how I did, and also to support a great cause.