In Ye Olden Days

I did something recently that will make Middle 'Computer Guru' Son terribly proud of me. I went to PC World and bought a wireless mouse and keyboard for the desktop computer.

I'm not sure of the exact moment when my children stopped viewing me as the font of all knowledge and wisdom and started treating me with 'infinite patience', but MS wasn't very impressed with my rollerball mouse last time he came to patch up my technical equipment; "An antique," he called it.

So, a wired mouse is now an antique is it? My, how things have changed. In my day (cue violins ... hey, violins, wake up and play some music ... I don't know, how about an adagio? You don't have the sheet music? No, William Tell won't do, I want something soft and soothing ... yes, that's it, the Hovis advert, perfect) ... where was I? Oh yes, back in Ye Olden Days we didn't have computers or digital music, we had state of the art Grundig tape players that we used to record the Top 40 chart off Radio One every Sunday night (and the DJ would always start talking before it finished).

We had a telephone number that you could ring from a public phone box (no such thing as mobile phones, or house phones come to that ... we were poor in those days ... play louder, violins) to listen to music. Dial a Disc it was called. Ah, memories. I'd huddle in a phonebox with a couple of giggling friends and we'd spend a whole 2d (that's old money) to listen to The Rubettes sing Sugar Baby Love. I was really young then of course, barely walking in fact.

I remember my mom setting jelly in a bath full of cold water because we didn't have a fridge. I remember lining up on the living room carpet with dad and sister, picking bits up off the carpet because we didn't have a vacuum cleaner. I remember dad's box of television valves for the black and white televisions set, and mom's mascara that she'd spit on and soften with a little brush.

I remember the absolute joy of being given a 'posh' box of writing stationery that I never used (probably still have it in the loft somewhere). I remember playing tennis outside with my mates until it got dark, pretending we were Billy Jean King or Chrissie Evert, being told off by the neighbours for bouncing our ball on the side of their house, and pleading with our mothers to stay out for just ten more minutes even though it was pitch black (and they let us!).

We had space hoppers!

I remember the horror I felt as a 'girl with a lot of horsey penfriends' when postage stamps went up to two and a half old pence. I remember my mom's uber-mini dresses and pointed stiletto shoes and backcombed hair (that took her ages). I remember dad letting me ride his Honda C90 on the roads when I was 14 years old.

No text messages to boyfriends in those days, we used our mates ("Go and ask him if he fancies me ... go on!"). Huge headphones complete with miles of wire attached to boxed stereo systems was cutting edge technology. We didn't have Playstations or Wiis, we had Etch a Sketch and painting-by-numbers, chalk to draw endless games on pavements and skipping ropes and clackers and string tricks and jackstones.

We ran around and got burning lungs but didn't stop, went for all-day adventures in the park on our bikes, formed the outlines of houses from newly cut grass, and hunted for furry caterpillars underneath window ledges (there were always loads). We knew how to have fun in those days, oh yeah.

So a wireless mouse is still a wondrous thing to someone who didn't grow up with CDs and DVDs and PCs.

[Okay, violins, you can stop playing now. I SAID YOU CAN STOP...oh good].

Brummie Broad: Here every Tuesday (unless I expire from Ye Olde Age)
Brummie Blogs: Hanging out there chewing gum rest of time.