If you're a kid, nothing is better than going to a playground. "No, Mom, a swimming pool."

"No, Junior, a playground."

"No, Mom, a swimming pool."

"No, Junior, A PLAYGROUND!!"

All right. All right. Enough with the family disputation. Thanks to the wonders of our modern age, kids can now do both. While no one's talking about why we had to wait until the dawn of the new millennium for someone this side of Disney to figure out the intricacies of putting a playground in water, Junior doesn't care. He and/or she is/are too busy loving the features that are popping up like Yellowstone geysers in city and county parks throughout the two-county area. With water slides, water pistols, water swings, water hoses, and super spongy floors to cushion any fall, what's not to like? Placed in shallow water, the playgrounds are safe enough for toddlers and exciting enough for older kids. Two particularly stellar ones in Palm Beach County -- Calypso Bay Waterpark off Southern Boulevard in suburban West Palm Beach and Coconut Cove Waterpark and Recreation Area off Glades Road in suburban Boca Raton -- also feature meandering streams for leisurely floating and (for older kids) those big, long, twisting tube slides that used to be the sole province of private amusement companies. Now that the cost of the technology has come down, allowing public agencies like the Palm Beach County Department of Parks and Recreation to splash into the water-park business, such frolicking doesn't have to endanger the kids' college education funds. At $8 for adults, $6 for kids under 12, and free for kids under 3, the biggest thrill for parents is the price. So who's arguing now?

You can see them each sunny Wednesday evening and Saturday morning on Fort Lauderdale Beach. Six intrepid paddlers push a Hawaiian-style outrigger canoe into the surf and paddle off. Sometimes they hug the shoreline; sometimes they head toward the horizon. Maybe the opening notes of "Hawaii 5-0" will run through your head before you think, "Hey, this is the Atlantic!" Well, yes it is, and you haven't seen Fort Lauderdale Beach until you've seen it from one of these babies. Best of all, it's absolutely free to try out your paddling skills, and all levels of physical fitness can be accommodated. Show up on Wednesday around 6 p.m. or Saturday around 10 a.m. and you'll be given a five-minute lesson, then handed a paddle and life jacket. The core group is diverse in every way: age, level of fitness, and nationality. There's an easy camaraderie that becomes all the more obvious when you're in a canoe that hulies, which means it flips over. If that happens, you're no longer a newbie, and you become an official member of the Las Olas Outrigger Canoe Club. Some of the perks of membership -- if you stick with it, you'll eventually be asked to cough up $60 in annual dues -- include full-moon paddles, snorkel and dive paddles, the opportunity to participate in the Fort Lauderdale Boat Parade, and the chance to compete against other Hawaiian-outrigger canoe clubs springing up in Hollywood, Key West, and Palm Beach. But the first few times you're out, you'll just feel the thrill of synchronizing six strangers in an 18-inch-wide canoe against an unpredictable sea. If you don't try this at least once, you might as well be living in Peoria.

You can see them each sunny Wednesday evening and Saturday morning on Fort Lauderdale Beach. Six intrepid paddlers push a Hawaiian-style outrigger canoe into the surf and paddle off. Sometimes they hug the shoreline; sometimes they head toward the horizon. Maybe the opening notes of "Hawaii 5-0" will run through your head before you think, "Hey, this is the Atlantic!" Well, yes it is, and you haven't seen Fort Lauderdale Beach until you've seen it from one of these babies. Best of all, it's absolutely free to try out your paddling skills, and all levels of physical fitness can be accommodated. Show up on Wednesday around 6 p.m. or Saturday around 10 a.m. and you'll be given a five-minute lesson, then handed a paddle and life jacket. The core group is diverse in every way: age, level of fitness, and nationality. There's an easy camaraderie that becomes all the more obvious when you're in a canoe that hulies, which means it flips over. If that happens, you're no longer a newbie, and you become an official member of the Las Olas Outrigger Canoe Club. Some of the perks of membership -- if you stick with it, you'll eventually be asked to cough up $60 in annual dues -- include full-moon paddles, snorkel and dive paddles, the opportunity to participate in the Fort Lauderdale Boat Parade, and the chance to compete against other Hawaiian-outrigger canoe clubs springing up in Hollywood, Key West, and Palm Beach. But the first few times you're out, you'll just feel the thrill of synchronizing six strangers in an 18-inch-wide canoe against an unpredictable sea. If you don't try this at least once, you might as well be living in Peoria.

Imagine: A day at the races, but with you and up to nine of your closest -- or loopiest -- friends as the drivers. This dream can become reality at Moroso Motorsports Park, which is available for private rentals. But you'll pay dearly for the privilege of playing Paul Newman. Rates start at $1800 per day for up to four cars during the off-season (June 1 through August 31); during "the season" (September 1 through May 31), the base rate goes to $2000. Those extra buddies will cost you an additional $150 per car up to a maximum of ten (only one to three cars are allowed on the track at a time). Of course, there are a few other extras: A rescue unit including ambulance must be on standby, at a cost of $60 per hour, with a four-hour minimum. If you opt to have a fire truck on hand, it'll be $55 per hour with, once again, a four-hour minimum. In other words, we're talking anywhere from a little more than $2200 up to more than $3300, even more if you arrange for the park to cater your day of fun. And then there's that little matter of insurance. Moroso will help you determine the necessary amount beforehand. But hey, isn't it worth it to drive even faster than most of the lunatics on South Florida's roadways?

Imagine: A day at the races, but with you and up to nine of your closest -- or loopiest -- friends as the drivers. This dream can become reality at Moroso Motorsports Park, which is available for private rentals. But you'll pay dearly for the privilege of playing Paul Newman. Rates start at $1800 per day for up to four cars during the off-season (June 1 through August 31); during "the season" (September 1 through May 31), the base rate goes to $2000. Those extra buddies will cost you an additional $150 per car up to a maximum of ten (only one to three cars are allowed on the track at a time). Of course, there are a few other extras: A rescue unit including ambulance must be on standby, at a cost of $60 per hour, with a four-hour minimum. If you opt to have a fire truck on hand, it'll be $55 per hour with, once again, a four-hour minimum. In other words, we're talking anywhere from a little more than $2200 up to more than $3300, even more if you arrange for the park to cater your day of fun. And then there's that little matter of insurance. Moroso will help you determine the necessary amount beforehand. But hey, isn't it worth it to drive even faster than most of the lunatics on South Florida's roadways?

Built on the site of a long-defunct Japanese agricultural colony, this now-25-year-old tribute to Japanese culture continues to thrive in its unlikely South Florida locale. Perhaps the best expression of its Japanophilia are the numerous festivals it hosts, honoring the important holidays of Nihon. Of these, the Hatsume Fair, which celebrates the first bud of spring, is our favorite, what with its vendor and artisan booths, fair food both Asian and American, and three stages of entertainment. This year, the performances included a tea ceremony, martial-arts demonstrations, and, of course, the devastating rumble of the taiko drummers. The best part: All of this takes place in late February, under the cooling canopy of the towering pine trees on Morikami's beautiful grounds.

Built on the site of a long-defunct Japanese agricultural colony, this now-25-year-old tribute to Japanese culture continues to thrive in its unlikely South Florida locale. Perhaps the best expression of its Japanophilia are the numerous festivals it hosts, honoring the important holidays of Nihon. Of these, the Hatsume Fair, which celebrates the first bud of spring, is our favorite, what with its vendor and artisan booths, fair food both Asian and American, and three stages of entertainment. This year, the performances included a tea ceremony, martial-arts demonstrations, and, of course, the devastating rumble of the taiko drummers. The best part: All of this takes place in late February, under the cooling canopy of the towering pine trees on Morikami's beautiful grounds.

Harvard Square in Boston. Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley. Greenwich Village's Washington Square Park. These are places to find street musicians who rock. Not SoFla. Or at least that's what we thought before running into 33-year-old Argentine guitarist Fabio Zini one sunny Sunday at a picnic shelter on Hollywood Beach. On his Takamine, he played electrified flamenco, tango, and bar mitzvah music as kids and seniors, Argentines and Quebecois, picnickers and homeless guys danced up a storm. Zini started playing guitar at eight years old in Santa Fe, north of Buenos Aires; by the time he was 13, he was picking before a crowd of 3000 people at a festival. He came to the United States in 1996; since arriving here, he has entertained crowds just about everywhere they'd let him, from Argentinean festivals to the opening of the Hallandale Beach Cultural Community Center to Tango Dreams at the Actors Playhouse. He's also opened for Lucy Arnaz and jammed on South Beach with the Gipsy Kings. To make the bulk of his living, Zini peddles two CDs -- Passion Springs, which he produced in 1999, and the recent Magic Fingers, which includes a flamenco-inspired rendition of "Flight of a Bumblebee." These days, he's a regular at Mizner Park in Boca Raton and Sawgrass Mills, as well as the Hollywood Broadwalk scene. You never know where you're going to find him, though if you must, you can log on to his Webpage.

Harvard Square in Boston. Telegraph Avenue in Berkeley. Greenwich Village's Washington Square Park. These are places to find street musicians who rock. Not SoFla. Or at least that's what we thought before running into 33-year-old Argentine guitarist Fabio Zini one sunny Sunday at a picnic shelter on Hollywood Beach. On his Takamine, he played electrified flamenco, tango, and bar mitzvah music as kids and seniors, Argentines and Quebecois, picnickers and homeless guys danced up a storm. Zini started playing guitar at eight years old in Santa Fe, north of Buenos Aires; by the time he was 13, he was picking before a crowd of 3000 people at a festival. He came to the United States in 1996; since arriving here, he has entertained crowds just about everywhere they'd let him, from Argentinean festivals to the opening of the Hallandale Beach Cultural Community Center to Tango Dreams at the Actors Playhouse. He's also opened for Lucy Arnaz and jammed on South Beach with the Gipsy Kings. To make the bulk of his living, Zini peddles two CDs -- Passion Springs, which he produced in 1999, and the recent Magic Fingers, which includes a flamenco-inspired rendition of "Flight of a Bumblebee." These days, he's a regular at Mizner Park in Boca Raton and Sawgrass Mills, as well as the Hollywood Broadwalk scene. You never know where you're going to find him, though if you must, you can log on to his Webpage.

Call it "the little museum that could," although with 8000 square feet of exhibition space, the Coral Springs Museum of Art hardly lacks for room -- and what a grand display space it is: a series of spacious, interlocking galleries and a light-flooded main showplace that includes a high ceiling and huge plate-glass windows. (Amazingly, it was a gymnasium before it was completely remodeled.) Of all major Broward museums, however, this one has probably had the toughest time establishing itself. In 1994, area millionaire Max Schacknow gave the city a million and a half bucks and a slew of his own art in exchange for housing the Schacknow Museum of Fine Art. But the benefactor didn't get along with museum staff and city officials, who in 1998 basically said to Schacknow, "Here's your money back. Now go away." Since then, director Barbara O'Keefe and a few part-time employees and volunteers have put together increasingly ambitious programming featuring artists as diverse as photographer Clyde Butcher, painter Dalva Duarte, Gullah artist Jonathan Green, and metal sculptors Jane Manus and Rotraut. As a bonus, the museum offers a broad schedule of art classes. Admission is $3 for adults and free for children.