Headline Edition

OPINION:
Everything was better in my day

When I was a child, we never had social media. All we had was small bits of paper which we would pass around when Mr Gruber wasn’t looking. And if you were caught he would read out fhe piece of paper and you would be shamed. Then, you would be sent to the Headmasters room, to stand in ignominy and shame until he opened the door, bid you in and you heard that magnificent pine barrier close behind you. Never did me any harm.

No messaging apps. We had to message using our mouths and language. There were no emojiis, no little images with which to make our point, and if there had been Mr Grainger would have singled us out to the scorn of our peers, and sent us to the Headmasters office, there to await your fate until the great man opened his door and shoved you into his room; the maple coloured formica covered pine slab closing, and his displeasure filling the air. Never did me any harm.

And we never had phones. We would talk in whispers, gestures and the silent language of youth, until Mrs Crabbe would decode our teen musings and send us to the Headmasters office, to stand outside in pitiful sorrow until he bade us into his lair, closing the oak door and condemning us as the prisoner to our fate, frowning at you as slowly he would extract his ruler and we would know true fear. We knew we deserved what was coming. Never did me any harm.

We had to do without the Internet. If we wanted to sample 3D games we had kerplunk or Buckeroo. And we would play these games while Mr Wainwright was at the front of the room until he caught us, and we were sent to the Headmaster’s office. Whilst anticipating his attention, we would shake with fear until that mighty portal opened and he beckoned us in, shutting the door with a mixture of fury and disappointment, as he extracted a slipper from his drawer and administered the punishment we so deserved and craved. Never did me any harm.

Even now, as I look back, I can see the origins of myself; the boy becoming a man through pain. It’s why I prefer being tied to a chair and for a nine tail tor to be used on my bare buttocks by a leather clad dominatrix who shows no mercy at reasonable prices.