I recently read an article that suggested that if you were a child of the 70’s then you are very lucky to be alive. It’s a very funny piece of work and quite thought provoking. I am indeed a child of the 70’s, I played kerby, had a Raleigh Tomahawk (I was to small for a Chopper!), ate Spangles by the packet and loved Tiswas so much I got a paper plate autographed by the Phantom Flan Flinger! One of the happiest memories I have is whenever I used to go out with my Nan and Grandad in their Ford Cortina Estate, I would lay down in the boot on a old blanket, staring up through the windows and try to guess where I was on the journey. I once lay in the boot all the way to Butlins in Clacton, a journey over over 300 miles!! I was in the boot! On motorways and A roads!! So that’s probably one of the times where I can count myself lucky to be alive. I could go onto mention nearly breaking my neck on a Space hopper, playing in the brook trying to catch rats, running across the railway line or playing out until well after dark with my Nan shouting down the street for me to come in, but you get the picture. It was a different time, we could play out freely without fear or reprimand. Things have changed and I can see the argument for both sides but either way I wouldn’t change my childhood for anyone else’s, right who’s for a game of British Bulldog?

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