Poor little rich kids

Jan 29 2006 By David Passmore, The Sunday Sun

This week's Champion Columnist is David Passmore. He is a 48-year-old health and safety officer from Belmont, Durham.

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Kids of today think they have it all. They have mobile phones that can play music, take pictures, play games and yes, even communicate.

I am a great advocate of technology, but if I want to take a picture, I use a camera, if I want to make a phone call, I use the phone, and if I want music on the move, my trusty Walkman suits me fine.

I don't do multi-function . . . it only confuses me!

There are myriad computer games played on all sorts of bank-busting "must-have" contraptions which allow you, for instance, to play a game of virtual football with someone on the other side of the world.

Some games simulate Armageddon or help you to achieve world domination.

Portable music players have a larger memory than the computers that helped to land the first man on the moon.

In years to come, kids will queue outside doctors' surgeries complaining of ailments such as rolling eyeball disorder due to continuous use of computer games, or perhaps text-finger syndrome, caused by constant texting.

Incidentally, there's nothing more annoying than being in the vicinity of some spotty youth who is constantly clicking out hieroglyphics on his mobile.

BT used to run commercials featuring Bob Hoskins based on the premise: "It's good to talk." But is the art of conversation dying?

Today's typical youth wears trainers and a tracksuit sponsored by a super-wealthy athlete and costing a week's wages.

But the only exercise the wearer is likely to get is fleeing the local constabulary to avoid another ASBO.

Do I feel I was missing out when I was younger? I don't think so.

OK, some of the activities I enjoyed in my youth may not seem so exhilarating today.

And some are frowned upon now, such as bird nesting, shooting rats and spuggies with air rifles, and collecting newts and frogs from the local pond to put in a tin dish in the back garden. They invariably died some days later.

At least we got a little exercise by climbing trees and walking many miles a day in the search for birds' eggs and various amphibians.

Today, collecting birds' eggs will likely land you a prison sentence - and rightly so - and if you walk around with an air rifle you'll probably be surrounded by an armed response unit.

And, unfortunately, there aren't that many frogs and newts around today.

The only frog today's kids recognise rides a motor bike, makes outlandish noises and has a strange appendage dangling from it.

My kids laugh when we explain that our pastimes used to be marbles, British Bulldog and blocky.

In my youth it was safe to pitch a tent in the local woods, camp out overnight and carry out orchard raids at two in the morning. Sadly, those days are gone. Mothers had no fear of letting their offspring stray . . . now we live in a different world.

As parents desperately try to pay their festive season debts, they will already be dreading this year's Christmas stocking.

Some parents will spend enough on their ungrateful sprogs to repay the national debt of Bolivia.

The following used to feature prominently on Christmas lists:

* the Etch a Sketch . . . the Playstation of the 1960s;

* the Stylophone . . . for endorsing which, Rolf Harris should, in retrospect, have been shot. By Boxing Day, many previously rational parents must have craved the opportunity to relocate their kids Down Under with the antipodean artist.

* a torch with colours . . . magnificent!

These were comparatively humble objects of desire.

But what I have today is the memory of being able to walk when and where I liked.

What I didn't have when I was in my teens was a belly that needed a sail-maker's skills to cover, due to the owner's lack of exercise.

Yes, we walked in gangs, and even committed heinous crimes such as taking the odd apple or goosegog or two from neighbour's gardens.

Unfortunately, similar gatherings of youths today may be seized with more sinister intentions.

Kids today may think they have everything. In reality, they have very little.