July 20, 2025

The old Hancock playground was a city kid’s oasis in a macadam desert.

When it opened in the 1950s, we flocked to it like thirsty birds. It allowed us to fly in new ways: long-chained swings that soared to eight feet at a strong clip; sturdy monkey bars that invited real acrobatic skills; a big, well-oiled roundabout and – best of all, a shiny metal sliding board.

The wonder of that equipment was that it responded to each child’s challenge and skill. A little boy could swing gently; a big girl could pump those long chains until they thrummed like yo-yo strings.

But the sliding board offered the most subtle and sometimes sinister challenges. Was it really a 10-foot climb to the top, or was I just that little? And did that shiny metal, on a hot July day, actually fry my skin?

On that steaming giant, there was never “fast enough”. We invented all kinds of formulae to increase slide speed: head first, legs up, jack-knifed. Some of us even carried a pocketful of mom’s waxed paper, polishing the incline to a cutthroat slipperiness. It was pure joy at its dumbest best and it was only God’s kindness that we didn’t kill ourselves!

As we live our lives, part of us never leaves the playground. At times, we are still a little child, barely moving on the swing. At times, we are the convoluted acrobat, struggling to complete the challenge. Sometimes, our lives whirl at a dizzying pace. And sometimes we get burned and bruised in our attempts.

Life of course, as the years pass, demands wiser approaches to its “ playground”. It’s called “maturity”. As I age, I find myself more cautious in both good and not-so-good ways. Certainly, I won’t be doing any sliding boards if I can help it. But what about the adventure of new thinking, new relationships, new generosities that build my community belonging?

What about the neglected reconciliations, forgivenesses, and repented procrastinations that will free my spirit for unexpected joy?

As I drove past the refurbished, plasticized Hancock today, that hot metal slide shone like a star in my memory. And I decided to put some waxed paper in my pocket– just as a reminder to still take a measure of abandoned fun on life’s slide.

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Music: The Slide – The Rhythm Rockets

A Golden Oldie from the 50-60s to get the spirit moving today!

I got a dance that I’m doin’ today
It’s called The Slide
I saw ’em dancin’ in the down the road hideaway
This dance The Slide
It makes you hop, jump, feel okay
If you dance The Slide

Mm-mm-mm, slide, baby slide
Oh-oh-oh, I mean The Slide

The music picks you up and puts you low down
Makes you hop, jump, shake around
You don’t need to play big and bright
Better to do it in the cool of the night

Mm-mm-mm, slide, baby slide
Oh-oh-oh, I mean The Slide

There’s the guitar takin’ speed
Gives you some idea what you’re doin’ to me
The drum will follow and make that sound
Make you hop, shake and rock around

Mm-mm-mm, slide, baby slide
Oh-oh-oh, I mean The Slide

The music picks you up and puts you low down
Makes you hop, jump, shake around
You don’t need to play big and bright
Better to do it in the cool of the night

Mm-mm-mm, slide, baby slide
Oh-oh-oh, I mean The Slide

Mm-mm-mm, slide, baby slide
Oh-oh-oh, I mean The Slide

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For Your Reflection

Although this is a somewhat lighthearted reflection, I hope it will touch something life-giving in your heart. It’s so important to retain our capacity to think “young”, to be childlike in our hope, to enjoy life without prejudice or fear, to “slide” with spiritual trust when a great opportunity presents itself!

• What feelings or reactions do I have after reading this reflection?
• Do my feelings or reactions remind me of any passage or event in scripture, especially in the life of Christ? 
• What actions might I take today because of my response to these readings?

Suggested Scripture: Mark 10:13-16