READ THE MEMO: IT'S PLAYTIME AT YOUR OFFICE.

Byline: JILLIAN O'CONNOR

Corporate employees are heading back to nursery school, and this time around, their bosses are driving the minivan.

Through forced bonding rites and bizarre rituals smacking of games of Duck, Duck, Goose, upper management is reshaping workers into gigantic families of cubicle dwellers - and the corporate employers have stepped in for Mom and Dad. Which is a great move for companies, since statistics show many Americans haven't seen their actual families in decades, yet they always get to see the friendly hired faces of the other drones - ahem - playmates.

There's no pressure for bosses to improve schedules and time-off benefits when you can replace longings for family and friends with other co-workers. With a new family in place, there's no need to ever go home.

Keep 'em on the clock, tag them with a company cell phone, and you own them 24-7.

It can't hurt that the whole manufactured-bonding process is compulsory, either. Or that it's extensively studied by ``team-building'' experts who guide grown men and women through activities better suited to ``Teletubbies' '' core audience, namely running around on a lawn fostering togetherness, while honoring their father and mother - the CEO and vice president of sales.

And it's not a pretty sight: There are reasons adults of average physique in the 25-and-up set should not take part in outdoor games in short pants. They know it, too, but if the parents say so, then they have to go out and play. After all, their corporate elders know best.

Some of these compulsory activities seem kind of fun and harmless, like cooking together. But the corporate kiddie games also include disturbing dress-up games so adults can bond as a plus-size Little League team or fully costumed detectives - setting up the players for a psychological return to preschool.

Cult masterminds just love that kind of regression. Wouldn't it be neat if we could get really smart corporate employees so enamored of their companies that they have religious fervor for their newfound siblings? That'll take care of that expensive employee turnover problem - just tell them they're letting the family down.

On the Adventure Associates Web site, mature adults - some doubtless with grandchildren - are seen entangled in ropes with their new corporate siblings; they show enthusiasm as they all cling to a Hula-Hoop, and even join hands to prop up a possibly reviled co-worker.

But let's be honest: This is remedial education for aging yuppies. These activities teaching 50-somethings to share and play nice with others make sorority retreats look like quantum physics.

Meanwhile, valuable business workers are restricted to preschool togetherness sessions. But the cutthroat kindergarten standards ``Farmer in the Dell'' and Musical Chairs would teach them quite a bit more about real-world hostility; if companies really cared about individuals' careers over building dynasties of new drones, we'd see a lot more bombardment matches and less ``trust your cube mate'' - an exercise in which a perky coordinator orders a hapless employee to fall back blindly, in the hope he'll be caught by a fellow staffer.

But do most of us really believe our co-workers would catch us, even with witnesses?

According to the Web site for Experience Based Learning Inc., one experiential facilitator (which presumably means she ... facilitates experiences) has a background in communication and psychology: ``Her expertise and enthusiasm lies in creative approaches when dealing with challenging group dynamics'' - code for making everyone bend over backward to accommodate the nutty employee who should have been fired six years ago. Just make the others feel they aren't doing their part if they fail to work around the black sheep in the company family. It's much cheaper than fighting a wrongful-termination lawsuit, after all, and everyone's used to a few loopy relatives.

Instead of these ``Kumbaya'' play groups, some desk workers are treated to special ``town-hall meetings'' to foster their sense of community - and adulthood - in a world of routine layoffs and corporate malfeasance.

The office doubles as a colonial village with an Aquafina machine in place of a well, and disgruntled employees pretend they're the good folk of the town and try to refrain from squabbling. Meanwhile, they watch their backs for management's pitchforks and say nary a word about what really goes on. It's an idyllic village amid the gray carpeting, with forced participation and a paid staff of townsfolk.

Quite a few consulting companies also offer very grown-up Murder Mystery nights, though Team Building USA uses the ``murder'' name only, replacing mock homicide with pretend theft. This must be for insurance purposes, since the odds of someone really rubbing out a co-worker have to run pretty high at these events.

Maybe sticking to Hula-Hoops and three-legged races has some perks after all.

Jillian O'Connor, [phone]

jillian.oconnor(at)dailynews.com

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