As I typed out this morning’s headline, it occurred to me that it reads as though Kina renamed her local playground, which would be completely on brand but is not the case. No, reader, this time it was the city of New York that looked at our local playground—with its exposed bolts, lumpy asphalt, and intermittent water feature—and said, “Let’s give this playground an abstract name that evokes an image of fruit!”

It seems pointless to rename a playground like this in a vacuum, so I expect some signage to go up in the next few months announcing the temporary closure of the Strawberry Playground for renovation, which would be great, except that the playground currently serves as a refuge for local multigenerational families who desperately need to get out of their apartments—regardless of how shiny the equipment is.

I’m not going to moan about a fancy playground, but I do find it curious that it’s taken so long to get one, and I wonder what prompted the city to plant a strawberry in the middle of Rodney Street today, rather than ten years ago.

dad