SAFETY CATCH

Kids these days. I was talking to my young nephew who tells me he's going to try sky-diving. Been having lessons. Lessons ? What the hell for ? He tells me for a start you learn how to fold your parachute. Parachute ??  Pathetic little pansies. In my day you just leaped out of a plane and hoped for the best. Try to find a nice haystack or a pond or something. We're raising a whole bloody generation wrapped in cotton wool. It'll end badly. We need to toughen these kids up.

 40kph speed zones outside schools ? Horseshit. How do we expect to raise the next generation of Olympic sprinters if we're not giving them some incentive ? In my day we had no speed limits at all. And there were snipers. Well, okay, not snipers as such, just the local hoons armed with bren guns and flagons of cream sherry, but they still potted a few of us. Which did us no bloody harm at all. Sometimes we just wagged school and got mauled by lions instead. And let me tell you, that's a real learning experience.

Guns. We all had guns. Mum would throw us out of the house after breakfast and tell us not to come back without an antelope carcass or two. Or least a goat . None of this sookie la la sissy picking us up from school in case evil strangers got us. That's what the guns were for. We were tough.

Cigarette didn't have warnings on the pack, they had pictures of smiling doctors saying "Smoke these, they're good for you, especially if you've got asthma". Did us the world of good. Coughing is God's way of getting your blood circulating. And don't get me started about The Slap !

Bloody hell. We all got slapped. Our parents would slap their kids. They'd slap other people's kids. No worries. Sometimes we'd go into town and Mum and Dad would slap complete strangers, just for practise. Once Mum slapped a parking meter. Made it cry.

You just can't make kids a victim of this nanny state thing we've got going. Drivers license at 18 ? Two years on p-plates ?  Nonsense. We got to drive at twelve, or when our feet could reach the pedals, whichever came first. Dad would show you where the gears were, throw you the keys and go "Drive hard, drive to win, take no prisoners". Then he'd send you on your way, making sure of course that you hadn't forgotten your beer. Because he cared. Now that's your proper parenting.

Bicycle helmets ? You have to be joking. We never had helmets. Our mates would've laughed us off the road. Half of us couldn't even afford bikes, we just threw ourselves directly onto the road. And yes of course this caused horrendous head injuries. Did us the world of good. It was character building.

And I can hear all you Safety Nazis, you Nanny State apologists, you Helicopter Parents crying "Oh my God, wasn't it dangerous, didn't you hurt yourselves sitting in your little treehouses made of asbestos sheeting smoking unfiltered cigarettes while you worked on your home-made fireworks ?" Of course it bloody was. By the time I was twenty I was dead. Twice. So were all my friends. Did me no harm. It made me the man I am today.

Here, hold these fireworks, I have to go clean my rifle ...