Can I Play?

When I was a little girl, my grandparents lived in Queens, NY. There were all these projects surrounding a playground, and I loved that when I stayed with them, we could go on a playground walk, and just a short walk away we could run across three or four playgrounds.

To me, this is the all-time best kiddie exchange to ever be experienced:

Kid walks up to group of kids already playing...something.

Kid: Hi, can I play?
Other kid, looking you up and down: How old are you?
Kid: Five ... and a half.
Other kid: Okay. Go stand over there.

And you run off in the direction they pointed, exhilarated, and only thinking two words as you run to your spot. I'M IN!

Then you start worrying you can't figure out what the hell game is being played, but console yourself with the plan that if the ball (because there's always a ball) comes near you, you'll catch it and start running and listen for the other kids to scream directions at you so you know where to run.

Meanwhile your grandma or grandpa sits on the bench, talking to an old-people friend who is there watching their grandchild while doing a crossword puzzle.

To me, that entire experience was the best part of staying in Queens. Making friends in the span of ten seconds, being accepted by 10 kids who've never met you before, simply because you tagged someone on the other team out or caught a ball or ran fast. This value system was so black and white, and worked well for me. On the bitchy, haughty part of Long Island where I grew up, there was a completely different value system, and it didn't work for me at all.

(I have been keeping an eye on what's going on in New York this week and wanted to write something positive about the city. This is what came out.)