The Old Coot is safely in his rocking chair

In 2008 I surveyed the public swings in our area to see if there might be a good place for an old coot to enjoy the thrill of flying through the air. I found a good prospect behind the elementary school. Four swings hung from a high center bar, promising a long glide path. I hopped on, pumped hard to achieve maximum distance from the ground, then leaned back to face the sky and let the swing work its magic.

It wasn’t as nice as I expected; the wooden flat seat I grew up with had been replaced with a wide rubber strap that squished my hips together, so much so I aborted the mission after only a few minutes. It was like being in a vice.

I checked all the parks and found one with a wooden seat in Hickories Park by the river, next to a pavilion. I’m sure the picnicking family had a good laugh at the old coot swinging and leaning back to face the sky, flying through the air. When I got home I conjured up a wooden seat that would fit over the rubber strap and went back to the elementary school where I could enjoy myself without hearing a chorus of chuckles.

We moved in May, and in the process I stumbled on that wooden seat adaptor, hidden under my workbench in the garage. I decided to update my swing set invention in hopes of finding a place to “fly through the air.” The results were discouraging. 

There are no swings at all in Hickories Park. And, the swings everywhere else are “height challenged,” with a mere 8-feet from the top bar to the ground. The swings by the Little League Park are the only exception, they’re 12-feet high. All are equipped with that miserable, hip pinching rubber strap. 

Swings are the victim of an overprotective and litigious society. Dangerous! Too high! The wooden seats were outlawed to protect a kid who wanders into their path, something most of us in my generation did at least once. Today’s playgrounds are safe, but no fun for an old guy who would like to swing. Seesaws (teeter-totters) are gone, too. Even the ground has been deemed a danger, replaced with a surface of wood or rubber chips. I guess I’ll have to settle for a ride on a rocking chair on my porch.  

Complaints? Send to mlessler7@gmail.com.

Be the first to comment on "The Old Coot is safely in his rocking chair"

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published.


*