Tag: Playground

7 Reasons The Playground Is A Metaphor For Life

I’m sitting in the park. It’s August but it’s gloomy, dank and wet. There’s no one else around. The playground ahead of me is completely empty. I stare for a while. Thinking back to the days when it would have been acceptable for me to run over and jump on the swing. Then I realise something. I’m already on a swing. And a merry-go-round. And a see-saw. The playground ahead of me is just a metaphor for what we experience every day. Here’s why:

1. Swings. Back and forth, back and forth. Sometimes quick, sometimes slow. It’s just like commuting to and from work everyday. Or doing the school run. Sometimes we want it to speed up. To get us through the day. Sometimes we want it to slow down. So we can live the moment for longer. Most of all though, sometimes it makes us throw-up.

2. Slides. It takes time and effort to get to the top. For what? Just to slide straight back down to earth, on your backside, at twice the speed.

3. Merry-Go-Rounds. You go round and round and round in circles. Then you feel dizzy, have a lie down, get up and get back on. And we repeat this ridiculous lifestyle choice for eternity. We’re idiots.

4. See-Saw. Up and down, up and down. All while some git tries to make you fly off and smash your head on the concrete floor. Well, it was concrete in my time. It’s probably wood-chippings now. It’s health and safety gone mad.

5. Climbing-Frame. It doesn’t matter which route you take, the view from the top is always the same – usually some bloke with his tongue down your girlfriend’s throat behind the cricket pavilion.

6. Monkey Bars. You pull yourself up, you think you look cool and then your pants fall down. You lower yourself and realise your pride hurts only slightly more than your biceps.

7. Sand Pit. It’s pretty standard. You make your castle only for some twat to come along and kick it to smithereens. Good name for a 1960s band that, The Smithereens. I was so after my time.

September 14, 2011
7 Reasons The Zoo Is My Habitat

Last week I did something I hadn’t done since I was a boy. I went to the zoo. I’m not going to lie, I immediately felt at home. Here’s why:

Zoolympics Challlenge 1: Stick Your Head Through A Set Of Shark Dentures And Look Sexy

1. Playground. As I may have expressed before, I am a boy trapped in a man’s body. Though whose it is, I am yet to establish. I have never grown up and I don’t intend to. I like being silly. Silly is good. I also like swinging from things while being silly. I saw monkeys at the zoo. They were being silly. And swinging. And picking their noses. It looked awesome. Well, maybe not the picking the nose bit. That made me a little bit sick. But the silliness and the swinging was definitely for me. I want to do that.

2. Sleep. Generally, after I’ve had a day of being silly and swinging around the clothes line, I like to have a sleep. Unfortunately I am prevented in this pursuit by one of two things. Either Claire arrives home or, as sometimes happens, Claire is already at home. Such appearances from my future wife make it very hard to sleep when there are important things to do such as make dinner, plan weddings* or – and the notion still makes me shiver – talk. At the zoo, there was silliness, swinging and sleeping. A whole lot of sleeping.

3. Talk. As previously indicated, I’m not a big fan of talking. I absolutely loathe small-talk. And, as for big-talk, I would rather do a naked lap of St. Andrews. (The football ground, not the golf course. My embarrassment does not need enhancing by the cold Scottish winds). It’s not that I’m uninterested in what you have to say, it’s more that The Tremeloes said Silence Is Golden and I have never stopped listening to them. The thing I noticed at the zoo was that animals don’t talk. Not even a little bit. They make weird noises occasionally – which is nice – but there’s no talking. And no animals asking other animals to talk to them either. Which means more time for silliness, swinging and sleeping. They’ve got it sorted.

4. Feeding. Some of the animals are fed upwards of four times a day. And I’m not talking about snacks here, I am talking proper meals. Four proper meals. Each day. That’s my kind of feeding.

5. Chores. With the exception of the ants who seemingly work all day and all night carrying bits of leaf over logs, non of the animals at the zoo have to work. Or go to school. Or get the shopping in. Or iron their trousers. (In fact, many of the animals I saw were naked). Animals, from what I have seen, don’t do any of the boring stuff at all. They’ve never had to write essays on Pride & Prejudice. They’ve never had to stand in a queue at the bank. They’ve never experienced an episode of Time Team. Their work-life balance is perfect. No work, all life. And life, as I’m sure we can all agree, is for living. It is not for spending in Barclays.

6. Vanity. It’s an alarming statistic, but if I was to walk down the entire length of Regent Street ten times in a row, only on seven of those would someone stop and take a photo of me. For someone who fancies themselves quite as much as I do and does their very best to live up to the meaning of their name – Gift Of God – it’s rather upsetting when someone just walks past without even so much as a raise of the eyebrow. In the zoo though, everyone would be taking photos of me. I’d probably even appear on postcards and desktop backgrounds and t-shirts. And that is the way it should be.

7. Olympic Qualities. As I was walking around the zoo I was challenged to a number of Olympic contests. The Zoolympics they called it. A name that made me chuckle uncontrollably for at least twenty-two seconds. From what I experienced the Zoolympics were designed to belittle me. In less than three hours I discovered that my reaction time was slower than the Blue Dart Frog, my wingspan was shorter than the Wandering Albatros and my backside wasn’t as stripy as Okapi. Which all leads me to believe that if I want to win Gold at anything, anytime soon, I need to move to the zoo to be pumped full of whichever Performance Enhancing Drugs the zookeepers have access to. I felt stupid being outwitted by a frog. Really, really stupid. But at least I beat my Dad.

*You do only have one wedding don’t you? It’s just that having booked both the church and the reception venue there is apparently so much still to do. How? I would like to know how?

September 7, 2011
7 Reasons You Know You Are Still A Child At Heart

1. Aversion to Pavements Part 1. There’s a wall a couple of feet high next to the pavement. That looks like a far more entertaining place to walk. Especially as it’s quite thin and so has an element of risk.

2. Aversion to Pavements Part 2. Cracks. They’re disasterous things to have on pavements. You must avoid them. Stepping on the cracks mean you lose the game. And the world implodes.

3. Your Colleague’s Computer. It looks quite inviting when he/she has gone off to the kitchen to make the coffee round. Especially the email account that is open. Wouldn’t it be funny if you were to send an email to that bloke in IT declaring love for him? Yes. It would be hilarious.

4. The Playground. Walking past it is hard work. It’s instinctive to have a quick look around and see who is in the vicinity. How you would love if it there was no one around? You so want to have one last go on the swings. Just to feel that rush again.

5. Children’s TV. Flicking through the channels whilst on holiday you come across Children’s afternoon TV. You smile as you remember the good old days of Grange Hill and Round The Twist and Mr. Benn. You change the channel but something is pulling you back. An hour later you are compelled to the modern-day Blue Peter, but can’t help thinking that it was so much better in your day.

6. Mannerisms. Giving high-fives and calling people dude and saying cool is still part of your everyday routine. And you do it because it’s a bit silly. And silliness is good.

7. Reach For The Stars. You are in a bar when something S Club 7 or Steps-like fills the air. You look at your friends and shake your head and bemoan why you keep coming to this place. Underneath the table though, you are struggling to prevent your foot from tapping and deep inside you are singing along. Loving it.

January 22, 2010