When I was at school, what seems now to be three dynasties ago, there was an old shed at the back of the oval which housed the athletics gear.
It had a padlock the size of a small brick with chains big enough to tie four bicycles to the racks. No need for that in those days, of course, but you get the picture.
Inside, there was an arsenal of weapons – shot puts, javelins, and the semblance of a hammer throw which I’m not convinced was built to any competition-standard specification. A bit like the bamboo they masqueraded as pole vault sticks, the purpose was to make us feel like we were an elite school with all the Olympic sports.
The irony of it all was that on either side of the shed, there were glass windows, and I’m pretty that the back corner of the shed lifted knee high under any gust of wind.
Break-in alert, school chieftains, a couple of bolts on the corners and a grill on the windows might have been money well spent. I was always suspicious of the kid whose parents were wealthy enough to buy him his own discus.
Behind this shed was where I learned how to ingest a puff of smoke without taking a cough, and where I mastered the Muhammad Ali shuffle.
Without the first I’d have been labelled a lightweight by the older boy who’d bought the packet of cigarettes. Without the second, I’d have more often suffered a busted nose.
The back shed, as it was known, was where we bonded, discovering life. Ah, the good old days, right?
Talking to a teacher recently, things have changed. Some schools have had to hide the hand sanitiser to stop the kids from drinking it. Others are vaping, walking around inhaling the fumes of e-cigarettes.
There are those that will always prefer breaking open a highlighter pen to see if the high was worth the $1.50 it’ll cost to get a new one.
The point is, we kept it behind the shed.
Whatever it is kids are doing these days to get their kicks probably is no worse for their bodies than what we were doing to ours, although something tells me a gulp of sanitiser probably isn’t going to do any short-term good.
I blame Trump – he suggested it was a good idea, holding no regard for sound medical opinion.
Teens these days seem to want to take their experiments to the streets, like the young man I saw the other day with his school shirt tucked into his trousers, tar stick hanging from his mouth. His confidence admirable, but not a look welcoming of others to his community.
Another I saw had evidently put a pink highlighter up her nose, matching the colour of the streaks in her hair. Had she kept the highlighter for schoolwork and vaped the hair colour, she might not have been any healthier. But at least she would have looked better.
Nevertheless, as I sit here questioning the choices of modern youth, I’m really not convinced they’re any sillier than we were.
The substances may have changed. And the blood nose I received in noble pursuit of condescending slander probably isn’t that different to modern reward.
The only difference is that I’ve learned from my lessons. In good time, they no doubt will too.
