Junkyard Golf

So much fun was had. So easily and generously. Kids. Parents. Anyone who wanted to play. It was my second ever Junkyard Golf Tournament, and I'm telling you I could devote the rest of my life to being a Junkyard Golf Pro, if you know what I mean, and putting on Junkyard Golf Tournaments everywhere, really.

It was in Palo Alto, in a public park. It was a group of families who are part of an admittedly privileged "Leaping Lizards" community (a pre- and post-school program where kids get to go on nature excursions every time they meet). And it was exactly the kind of fun I like to think of as "Loving" - the kind of playfulness, responsiveness, adaptability, creativity, sensitivity, spontaneity that comes out of the very spirit of fun and the joy of sharing it.

It wasn't just fun. It was fun for a reason. It was deeply instructive fun, about things like communication and community and the junkyards in which we live and work, and the Junkyard Golf holes we could construct, old and young, able and labeled, novice and professional, together. It was moving.

And it was remarkably like the kind of fun I experienced when I played the same thing, only with silly putty, with social workers and their bosses, on table tops.

And I pronounce it: "Junkyard Golf."