Be in it

About a quarter of a century ago, the National Recreation and Park Association adopted a marketing strategy that had become popular in South Australia.

The goals were simple: to engender interest in recreation. The strategy was based on four, one-syllable words: Life. Be in it.

That was the golden age of public recreation. Civil unrest that began in the '50s led politicians to seek ways to appease segments of the population that had previously been overlooked.

In addition to education, nutrition, jobs and health programs, many communities upgraded and expanded leisure services.

Playground programs were opened on thousands of school grounds; community centers were built; and tens of thousands of college students found part-time and seasonal employment. I was among those ranks of idealistic young people.

Several years later when it appeared on the scene, I confess that I wasn't very excited by the slogan: Life. Be in it. It seemed reminiscent of Madison Avenue sales campaigns - - catchy, but not really substantive, selling the sizzle rather than the steak.

By the time the idea migrated from Down Under to the U.S., I was director of my city's recreation program and was in a position to ignore the campaign. And I did.

But as the years have passed, that silly slogan has done exactly what it was designed to do: it has resonated in my mind and caused me to think about leisure and leisure activities.

As a student and as a practitioner, I learned to make a distinction between "leisure activities" and "recreation activities."

My training and experience leads me to believe that benefits result from wholesome and productive pursuits; conversely, I'm convinced that negative, unhealthy and destructive activities can not only degrade one's quality of life, but can be harmful to communities and society as a whole.

Considered a bit of a prude by some, I've spoken out against such leisure activities as gambling, drug use and a host of other pursuits (including a significant percentage of television viewing) that lack redeeming qualities.

Even the short and general list offered above has no doubt polarized some readers, so I won't press the negatives any further.

But I will mention an uplifting experience I had this past weekend while dining at a Portland-area retirement complex.

An entertainer named David Harris performed during the meal, playing guitar and singing favorites mostly from the '50s and '60s. He was well-received and played for a full hour.

Later, as he began packing his equipment, Frances Gustafsson, who is one of the residents, sat down at a nearby piano and played a reprise of one of Harris' numbers.

Obviously delighted by the tribute, Harris moved to the piano and added his voice to the mix. A few audience members gathered around the pair with broad smiles brought forth by the collaboration.

In my mind's ear, I could hear a clarinet, trumpet or saxophone chime in, and envisioned other musicians adding their voices and instruments to a jam session.

This brought that phrase to mind. Life. Be in it.

A singer created the moment and a pianist responded; the two of them created something greater than the sum of the parts and an opportunity opened for more of us to get involved.

Those with limited performance skills contributed to the experience by smiling, tapping our toes and displaying our appreciation between numbers.

Since other performers did not come forward, the duo collaborated in just three or four numbers before Harris returned to his packing and Ms. Gustafsson stepped down from the keyboard.

But, it was a special ten minutes. An added attraction made possible because two kindred spirits refused to let the opportunity pass and followed a simple command: Life. Be in it.