Playground Planners: PR vs. PR...fight to the finish!

Inside and out: Where the respective parties are meeting, planning, strategizing -- in a (vain) attempt to hold on to some ground and play-things THEY don't even use them-selves, on the one hand, while We, under-sized but out-numbering Them, are trying to regain lost ground. What was once ours, rightfully, ruefully (what better word to sum up "act of regret tinged with a sense of humor...so sorry"?)  yanked away...while we weren't even looking, not anywhere near the premises -- a decision made at the school bored level (Coke conspirators) while most of Us were in a deep slumber, vulnerable, unexpectant (talk about a rude awakening!). We, the so-called "stake-holders" are both, in our own way, prepping to meet out there, where long last..."we'll settle this once and for all!" (a traditional Recess! battle cry). Them, represented by going around the neighborhood, accompanied by an email blast, in an attempt to gain sympathy for their cause...as if they've had it hard, having to accompany Us out there, even in semi-inclement weather...collective measures, their version of Public Relations. Mean-while, we are simply having a blast doing Playground Recon...which at first glance seems so simple, easy, until demonstrated by the elite special ops folks, cited as one of the hardest things they had to do...some common ground with Us school kids...who were enjoying a few years of "boundless!" energy, after which, upon entering the school, we were told to "sit down and shut your traps!" Both hard at work, the ones having wealth but us having stealth...the latter in the form of one of my adult friends that, like the author of this blog, learned to be-friend, as one who really knows the ins and outs of this place...who's making the most messes (literally, other-wise)...the keeper of the keys...to all the rooms, including where all the play-ground equipment is housed...on out to...

Life in the Pits: Where his custodial virtues went above and beyond the call of simply taking care of the equipment, but also those that might best utilize these play things...serious business. Tipped us off before they tripped us up...a quick glimpse into their plans to entice Us into what's come into being, over the last several years on many play-grounds as "stand alones" ("last person standing") and now even transferable in the blow-up, back-yard version (it was bound to happen). Here We are, face to face, facing off, after finding the only entrance (doubling as escape route, of course) having little choice, to confront one another, even our differences...of opinions. That is, in this enclosed space (even smaller than those cramped classrooms we just vacated)...

Name, game changer: A place, time, and circumstance that We found it first, out of fondness, then out of necessity, to take on assumed names, playground personas, which we could easily leave behind when crossing the threshold, crossing the DMZ (erstwhile called the school "lobby" where all those lobbyists other-wise referred to as "your parents are waiting...") and re-entering, with a degree of coercion, the place where we are known other-wise, by the name we were given, like we had any say in it...Finding our-selves facing off in this place where even the name continues to be an opportunity to clash -- between those who continue to hold strongly to the position it derived from Hebrew ("touch-touch" which is hard to avoid in such an enclosed environ) and those who subscribe to a camp counselor who represented the origin of "necessity being the mother..." who, after concocting a scheme to keep camp kids busy on a rainy day, accused them of sounding, acting like "a bunch of babies". An accusation that gave way to the now favored recess retort, mocked moniker of many an immature actor: "goo-goo, gag-ga!" Which, out of convenience, not just for text, shortened to "gaga" as a way to fit it on the schedule of camp activities...

Back in the game: Where We found our-selves, once again, this time, here, to "settle this thing...once and for all!" Or so They thought. That is, the They, that our custodial friend who gave Us a bit of advanced warning, about why They, dividing Us into two groups -- the "Rejects of Recess!" and the "Playground Pros" before sending Us "out to play"...thinking, believing, in the old adage "divide and conquer"...The initial edge went to Them, as We found ourselves looking at each other with a bit of dis-dain...which, after We, in this unlikely atmosphere of antagonism, on We allowed ourselves to air our grievances, let out some steam, hot air, gas, gave way to just the briefest time of reason...just one voice that spoke up, reminding the others, from their "independent study" of such fields of battle...that no one comes out of here without some scrapes, bumps, bruises, completely un-scathed...a few will even come out of this with "mud on their hands" (positive proof of participation!)***. But in the end, of this one period of recess! when all was said and done, all Their attempts to Capitalize on our Divisions, once we rallied behind the "goo goo, ga ga....no no, na na!" (catchy eh?) cheer, we came out of this, a HUGE surprise to them, united more than ever, under the new banner of "Toy-R-Us Kids"! As We re-mind ourselves of the universal common attribute, that We come to play, each and every day.

What Next? What could He possibly dream up, after this incredulous event, out-do himself...

Recess! Reclamation, Playgrounds lost, found. (I promise, it will prove to be a class-ical gas!)

***experienced, outside the pits, more globally, as an "unblemished time in Our history" and scholastically speaking, a "squeaky clean student record" -- at least not among my associates, from the play-ground.