Camping Hammock in a Public Park: Do I Love You or Hate You?

Why am I so uptight about these ladies putting the trees to work?
Publish date:
August 22, 2011
criminal mind, naps, cruisers, hammock, public park, trees

So I stumbled upon this tableau in one of my favorite public parks the other day. My 100 percent honest first thought was, "Are we allowed to just USE the trees in that way??"

This particular park doesn't have climbable trees. They are there for us to basically admire, allow our dogs to urinate and defecate upon and generally defer ownership of to the local fauna. RIGHT? I've never once considered giving the trees a job.

Then I frantically Googled on my iPhone for a line on that fascinating portable cocoon-hammock. They sell them at Sears and a zillion other places, they are totally cheap and I doubt if I'd have the nerve to enjoy one at this or any other park, and anyone who has met me knows I'd rather hang MYSELF from two public park trees than go camping.

So why, besides compulsory consumerism, am I so turned on by this whole scene?

I have a theory. These young ladies aren't just riders of cruisers, they are cruisers of life! Takers of public naps in silk womb-y parachute cocoons in the MIDDLE of a day in the MIDDLE of the week! They fully encased themselves and seriously zzzzzz'd at one point.

I want everything they have, including cute blond ponytails!

Tell me if you can relate to this. I'm frequently cautious and somewhat repressed. Rules are stupid, but I must follow most of them to the letter lest I get reprimanded and mortified. This, or I'm a total Tasmanian devil.

So as I walked past one last time on the way to my car, I had this overwhelming urge to STEAL THEIR BIKES. To teach them a lesson, for being so care-free and inattentive. I've never stolen a thing in my life, but my brain is somehow always casing the joint for a good opportunity. Like someone starting their car and running back in the house. A reverse vigilante that punishes you for taking a risk that I'm too chicken to take.

Alright. What's the answer, friends? Do I chill out and make the park my bitch or turn to a life of crime (and bitterness)? Does anyone have one of these hammocks?