GOOD MORNING BROOKSIDE! brings you . . .
Your Daily Disturbing Moment
I was on my bike and a little late for work, so it was
around 7:00 in the morning when I finally turned down Brookside Drive. If I
wasn’t rushing, I probably would’ve noticed the subtle change in air moisture that
happens once you start down the road running between Wildcat and San Pablo
creeks – both major local waterways into the Bay. This morning, all I noticed
was that Kennedy Park was once again unusually pristine.
A short, narrow strip of lush grass adorned with several picnic
tables, during the day Kennedy Park is usually filled with what looks like a block
party. One co-worker who lived nearby said it was all drug users, which seemed
possible. All I knew for sure was I wouldn’t feel comfortable going into the
park. It didn’t seem like you could just go over and sit on the grass to read
your book as long as the others were around. On the other hand, it did seem
like they would welcome anyone willing to sit at one of the tables to chat or
even share whatever was being passed around.
The thing that always struck me about the park was that it
was usually decisively trashed when I passed it on my way home in the afternoon
but as pristine as a Scottdale golf course by the time I went by it on my way
to work the next morning. This morning was no different. The picnic tables were
bare, the dirt around them free of trash, and the verdant grass shone in the
early morning light.
As I approached, I saw a large, colorful “freebie” item someone
had left in the middle of the otherwise empty lawn. It was one of those self-supporting
swings you sit a baby or toddler in so they can bounce up and down and play
with the various brightly colored toys positioned around the swing. There’s probably
a name for them, and I’m positive they’re not approved of by Head Start. This one
was just sitting in the middle of the park.
It was a little odd. Clearly the item was relatively new and
in good condition, but if it was a giveaway, shouldn’t it have been put closer
to the sidewalk and street, or at least near the picnic tables? The circular
toddler training toy had been plopped down in the middle of an expanse of grass
the usual park denizens rarely visited. Right where I may have lay down in the
grass to read a book, in fact.
The plastic colors of the item stood out against the green grass. I was tempted to stop and photograph it, in spite of running late. The park clearly had its own culture, and this overnight relic must have its own story to tell.
Then as I wheeled by, I recognized the large, white object lying
against the base of the toddler gizmo as a full jar of mayonnaise. Suddenly, I
no longer wanted to know the story.
