Playgrounds from Hell

It’s a death trap
It’s a suicide wrap
We gotta get out while were young
‘Cause Honey, tramps like us,
Baby we were born to run

Bruce Springsteen, Born to Run, 1975

You know, any morning that starts with a little Bruce can’t be all bad.

Tokyo has recently been named, World Capitol least likely to grow grass.  In all my travels I have never been anywhere where grass is so scarce.  If you do happen to come upon a clump of grass, the blades of grass are likely to be outnumbered by the signs around it, telling you not to walk on it, touch it, breath on it, take pictures of it, feed it, water it, etc.

Sachan loves to run.  I don’t think I have ever met a child that simply enjoys running more than she does.  Sadly, as a result of running in the asphalt paved, concrete sealed and grassless jungle that is Tokyo, her knees frequently look like they just survived a knife fight with the Jets.

Now, I do have a tendency to exaggerate a bit, so let me back up a bit.  You can find grass in Tokyo.  It is called pet grass.  This is not the dynamic landscape for your pet rock you kept on a shelf in the ’70’s.  Nor is this a distant relative of a Chia pet.  (Are Chia pets like fruit cake?  You know, there is only one and everyone keeps re-gifting?  Just asking.  I have time to think about these things.)  Pet grass is a little seven inch square of grass for your pet to tinkle and doo-doo on.  You can get them at most of the flower shops.  If you think about it, this is a great idea.  Your animal goes and takes care of business of the pet grass.  This is turn kills the pet grass.  Then you need to go buy more pet grass.  Talk about Capitalism at its best…and its green..well until it dies.  Which begs the question, if the animals are kiling the grass are they or does this leaving too large of a carbon footprint and thus should be erradicated?  I am just asking, I have time to think about these things.

Again, I have time to think about this stuff so here are some questions I am researching:
Since it’s a “pet” grass, would you try flushing it down the toilet?  I mean it’s already soiled, right?
If not flushed, does it count as burnable?
Where do you keep it, while waiting for burnable pick up days?
Is there a way to recycle the grass?

So you can buy grass for your pet to poop on, but there aren’t any places where kids can run on the grass.  (Shall we simply consider this reason number one for not wanting to raise your kids in Tokyo?)  We do take Samantha and her bloody and scarred knees to three playgrounds close to the house.  I will call them playgrounds A, B and C.

Playground A is about four blocks away in front of a temple and across the street from an unagi (eel) restaurant.  It possesses three modes of entertainment.  The first fun thing to do at this playground is to pick up, carry and or throw the stones that form the courtyard in front of this temple (no grass mind you.)  The three rides are not on the soft rocks, but rather bolted into concrete pavers.  There are two of those things you sit on that have a giant spring under them.  The kid sits on it and attempts to rock back and forth.  These are exciting for exactly five seconds.  Then there is the piece of playground equipment that is the bastard child of the merry-go-round and the Disney tea cup ride.  I like to call it the spinning tea cup ride from Hell. - (You may have the idea by now that safety standards for playgrounds and playground equipment are severely lagging behind European and United States standards.  There was even an article in the Japan Times shortly after we arrived commenting on this.  They had a list of warnings.  It contained helpful hints like, “make sure all bolts are tight before letting your child get on a play item.”  And my favorite, “avoid putting small children on the spinning tea cup ride from Hell.”  Ok, it didn’t really call it that, but there was a warning about this piece of playground equipment.)  If you have been to Disney, you know what I am talking about.  It’s the ride where they put you in a tea cup, and close the door. Your tea cup moves around in a circle.  You have the option of making your teacup spin, by turning the wheel in the middle.  Key point that Disney wisely picked up:  close door to prevent small children from being launched into space due to centrifugal force.  The tea cup ride from Hell at the local playground has no door.  I am sure doors on playground equipment would be considered dangerous; I mean there might be a bolt loose or something.  While I knew of this playground, I had successfully kept it hidden from Sachan.  Until, that is, she got really good at peddling her tricycle and we ended up at this playground one day.  Sachan picked up some rocks, threw some rocks, tripped on the soft rocks that did not draw blood.  Rode each springy-thingy for five seconds and then walked over to the tea cup from Hell.  I, against better judgment, put her in.  I explained how it worked and gave her a little spin.  Emphasis on LITTLE!  It made one single slow revolution and just like Linda Blair, spit Sachan right out into my arms.  We don’t go there anymore.

Playground B is closer, only two blocks away.  It is what I now consider a typical Tokyo playground to be.  This means that it is built over a fire cistern. - (Is it to Carlinesque to ask why they are keeping fires in cisterns?  Shouldn’t they keep water in them?  OR, is it oddly appropriate that pieces of playground equipment FROM Hell, be ABOVE the fire?  Just asking, I have time to think about these things.) Your typical Tokyo playground contains three things:  a slide, a swing and a sand box.  I don’t know who decided how long the chains on the swing should be.  But I suspect the person who hung them was named Bob and that he didn’t have any legs.  The two swing seats are the perfect height and width for an ant.  Then there is the slide.  I couldn’t believe this thing the first time I saw it.  It stands about six feet tall, has a nice forty-five degree angle with the slide being about eight feet long, and about four feet wide.  It is a colossal thing made of poured cement with rocks in it.  (I know you are wondering, so I will tell you again, I am not making this up.)  As with any thing made from concrete, you would want to have nice ninety degree angles on the edges to ensure a lot of blood loss should you fall on it.  With that said, I have to say, it may be one of the fastest slides I have ever gone down.  This confused me until I realized that the slide eats any and all material that glides over it.  It’s as if it were heated by a fire below (hey, wait a minute…)  And then there is the sandbox.  Tokyo, and I think this has a lot to do with there not being any grass, has the creepiest dirt I have ever seen.  Tokyo dirt is like half loam, half sand, three-fourths clay, two-thirds glue, one-eight small gravel, and one-sixty-forth plain old stink.  I know that doesn’t add up, but then again, neither does this “dirt.” - It is the stickiest, nastiest, stinkiest stuff I have ever seen.  It’s as if it’s some mad scientist’s recreation of a dirt-like substance that has been heated (hey, wait a minute…).  Let’s see, did I mention that this playground is covered with fine, very soft, gravel.  Of course there are eight metal grates in the playground area.  Each grate is 2’x2’, rises about an inch above the level of the fine, very soft gravel and has a soft concrete border.  I think its nice to have a playground that is an obstacle course.

So let me summarize:  a playground with two swings too low to swing on, dirt too nasty to play in, a slide that burns and eat your pants, eight grates to dodge and soft gravel to fall on.  Oh, and there seem to be a lot of mosquitoes there as well; it’s as if they are attracted by some hidden source of heat, (hey, wait a minute…)

Sachan and I were at Playground C by ourselves one morning.  Apparently, kids in Japan don’t go to playgrounds in the morning.  Anyway, it was one of those weird days.  I had taken Sachan to school, only to find that the resident translator had miscommunicated with the resident child care provider and there was no school that day.  This scenario has occurred three times since Sachan started school. (For the record, I am in no way placing blame on either the translator or the care provider.  I fear being told to go spend the night on the balcony with a swatch of used pet grass planted in Tokyo dirt.) On this fine day, Samantha and I went to the café that sells cinnamon rolls (not the one with waffles on the dessert menu) and had an early morning snack.  We then went to play at the playground, with plans to go to Akafudado when it opened.  Samantha had been swinging for a while and had decided to play on the yellow bars about a foot and a half high that run in front of and in back of the swings to prevent kids from running in the path of the swings.  When Samantha isn’t running, she is scaling some thing. I think having these metal bars as a barrier is a great idea, especially since as a kid I thought it was really cool to run behind, between and through swings.  Well, right up to the point where I got hit in the head by one that had a pointy metal edge.  (That little fact may actually answer a lot of questions.)  Anyway, Samantha is climbing and swinging on these bars.  Not to mention getting much braver with things like climbing, flipping, and throwing her body through space.  She was attempting to climb up on top of this yellow bar and sit on top of it.  For a moment, it appeared that she was defying the laws of physics as she somehow managed to get both hands and feet up on top of the bar and had miraculously balanced herself there. It was like that move gymnasts do on uneven bars.  Well, apparently the molten mass that resides in the cistern under the playground shifted, enabling the laws of physics to resume, at which point, Samantha did a face plant from a foot and a half up.

This resulted in my learning a number of things:
Samantha can move down one and a half feet, faster than I can move laterally three feet.
The tiny gravel covering the playgrounds must actually BE soft, because only about a dozen had stuck to her face, and the only blood was a small scratch under her chin.
Oh, and I learned that when a three-year old’s tooth turns grey, it likely means that the child will need a root canal; and yes they can perform a root canal on a three-year old.  Or at least that was dentist number one’s opinion.  Dentist number two wisely suggested waiting a week, which has turned into a month and now as I send this out today 4 months:  tooth is white and OK.

Now if anyone knows where I can get a giant bubble to keep my little bundle of energy safe, please let me know, because tramps like us, baby we were born to run and swing and climb and play and jump …

written07302004