Kid’s Trampoline Center Might Be Dangerous/Awesome

News flash! Stitching together a bunch of trampolines so that children can jump on them with little supervision might be a bad idea!

So says the Buffalo Grove neighborhood of Chicago, not realizing how freaking awesome a trampoline park would be. The Grove Board is debating whether or not to allow Xtreme Trampolines–they lost the first ‘E’ after it catapulted off of a trampoline and smashed its head into the cement–to open a trampoline play-place. Needless to say, the proposal has the support of all the “Cool Dads” on the Board, but there are a bunch of nerdlingers who are trying to stop kids from just having a good time on some trampolines.

The debate rages on, and conditions have been set. The owners of Xtreme Trampolines (who doubtless have tons of bitchin’ tattoos) must demonstrate that their jump zone “will not be detrimental to or endanger the public health, safety, morals, comfort or general welfare” of the town and its citizens.”

I think the Board is right on with the whole public health/safety concerns, but “morals”? What is morally wrong about having a radical trampoline playground in your town? Nothing. Unless kids start using the trampolines to have big gay sex parties on, in which case, ban that shit. But until that happens, let the kids jump, I say! Let them jump!

It is noted by the venerable Tribune that there is already a similar park open in Carol Stream, and ambulances have been called there 16 times since November. As though that’s an argument against something–ambulances have been called 16 times to Jeremy Piven’s house since November, you don’t see anyone trying to shut him down.

Really this entire debate centers not on kid’s safety, or ambulance bills, or gay sex morals, but on the bygone SpikeTV show “Slamball.” It was always a dream of mine, and every other male I knew, to have a Slamball court installed in Marietta, Georgia, where I grew up–what we wouldn’t have given to be able to play even one quarter of basketball on flippin’ trampolines. It was all we asked for, all we dreamed about, to be a white boy and to fly through the sky and dunk in our friends’ stupid sweaty faces. When “Slamball” came on Spike at 2AM on Friday night, we would huddle around and howl like apes at the stuffs and the jams and the acrobatics, and wish that we, too, had an outlet to jump toward a hoop 15 feet in the air with a Nerf ball. I considered it to be, for several months of my life, the American dream.

Chicago has the chance to make this American dream come true; this is what Carl Sandburg would have wanted, I think. Please, member of the Buffalo Grove neighborhood council: let Xtreme Trampolines into your towns, and into your hearts. I promise it will make you the cool dad you know you are.

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