Teaching children the art of play

Not that many years ago, a child’s life was a much simple one to live. They went to school, came home, ate proper food and slept. There was no right or wrong way for them to be, to think or to act. They stayed young, enjoyed life and learnt through play. Playing that involved friends, fresh air and wide-open spaces that is, not spent passing time alone in a virtual world.

Yes, long before the age of the couch potato and all those computer consoles and handheld devices came along, games actual required inventing – by those playing them no less. Back then there was no need for weighty instruction manuals, an Internet connection or the latest release. You didn’t even need a darkened room, a 40” plasma or lightening fast thumbs to win.

Of course for many kids today it’s probably hard to imagine a time when trees were for climbing up, bushes for hiding in and rivers for swimming across. A time when you’d take off on your bike to explore, or enjoy building machines and go-karts with the limited contents of your Dad’s shed. A time when you’d get together with friends to skim pebbles, play tag or British Bulldog and discuss how to put the world to rights.

Oh how things have changed in recent years – the life of a child is no longer a simple one to live.

All the advances in technology that have helped to improve the world (or at least make it a more convenient place to live) have also changed how the youth of today spend their time. Now the hours between school and sleep are no longer filled with fresh air, fun and laughter. Instead, a computer-savvy generation rushes home from lessons; eager to lose themselves in a digitally generated world and chat to people they don’t even know.

Young children living, learning and interacting by a whole new set of rules, hunched over keyboards and spending hour after hour watching a distorted reality unfold onto a small screen in front of their eyes. They spend all of their spare time surfing, blogging, downloading and chatting. Constantly tweeting and updating on Facebook and telling the whole world secrets that one-day they will wish they had never shared.

Some kids, mainly boys it has to be said, fill countless hours shooting aliens, fighting gangsters and winning wars. Heavily influenced by the media and targeted for their pocket money, these children become addicted to highly unsuitable games in which they ‘play’ at violence, death and destruction until they are completely numb to what they see.

Often these kids are holed up for days on end, so engrossed in what they are doing that they forget to eat, sleep and even live. It’s hard to say what’s more worrying about children, some as young as 9 or 10, developing such a total fixation with technology, and relying on computer screens and TVs to fill their every minute.

Never mind that this sedentary lifestyle, coupled with a modern-day diet of fatty junk food and a decline in physical education lessons at schools, is resulting in one of the biggest health problems that world now faces today – childhood obesity, but it is also robbing them of something they can never get back – their innocence and their youth.

 

Taken from my weekly BLOG written for Treehouse Life.

What every teacher would love to say

Now for all those parents, pupils (past and present) and frustrated teachers out there, here’s a school answering machine message to really make you laugh.

This Internet hoax gets across exactly what most schools would probably love to say to the parents of their useless pupils -  if of course they weren’t then instantly slapped with every type of lawsuit known to man.

And yes, of course it’s a hoax. For starters, as far as the part about moving to another country, if that applied to Australian schools, many of them would be empty!

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PA in our Pocket or Marketing Tool?

As technology surges forward, mobiles shrink and mankind busies itself getting connected, the world continues to grow smaller with every passing day. Now, wherever we turn, we see people talking, texting or completely oblivious to their surroundings, engrossed by the latest download.

Of course it’s good to talk – or so they say. Everyone and their brother are now happy to be ‘friends’. They post, comment, and tweet, happy to share their life and divulge their souls. Yet should they one day pass in the street, they’d probably just walk on by.

Yes, the world may be talking, but what, if any, conversations are actually taking place?

Not long ago mobiles were such a simple tool; used to catch up with family or make a quick call. Today, in many ways, they help to run the world. They are our lifeline and motherboard rolled into one.

We rely on them to bank, shop, travel, and date. To track down, meet up, and break up. They tell us what time to wake up and where we need to go. They can be our secretary and our salvation. For the foolish, who use them to cheat and deceive, they can also be our downfall.

As this market grows and mobile advertising looks set to explode, you have to ask yourself this – are phones really designed to help us manage our everyday lives, or are they just a marketing dream – a tool designed to sell, and therefore, in turn, control us?

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How to play in 2010

Nothing probably highlights how dramatically the world has changed, more than when you watch your kids play – and see the toys they now play with.

As a child, playing was something that took real hard work, it was never just handed to us on a plate. Games had to be invented and imagination put into overdrive, and of course, if we ever looked like we were bored for a millisecond, we were sent out to weed the front drive.

I played with dolls that cried and wet themselves. I climbed up trees and galloped around the field next like a horse. I had a hand puppet called Spit the Dog and a bin called Dusty. I remember being wowed by the revolutionary Rubik’s Cube and simply blown away when we got our Commodore 64. Amazing thing that was, it had a cassette deck to rewind the games and a whole 64kB of RAM.

Now that may seem unimaginable to techies in this decade, but you’ve got to remember that this was at a time when the microwave oven was only just becoming part of the kitchen scenery, and having a Soda Stream was the very height of cool.

These days most dolls have a better wardrobe (and car) than I do. Hell, my daughters Barbie has her own private jet and a tour bus with a built-in spa. Go into any toy shop and everything now seems to walk, talk or dance. Batteries are a given and an Internet connection more often than not a necessity.

Light years in development since the humble Commodore 64 , computers of today are small enough to fit in your pocket and powerful enough to launch a space shuttle.

Technology has certainly gotten out of control. You know that for sure when you can play 18 holes of golf in your living room, buy a pair of shoes from someone on the other side of the world and spend every spare minute caring  for a 1 dimensional pet – though seriously, what is the draw of looking after a puppy on-screen?

Change isn’t a bad thing of course, it’s just what happens. I know at the age of 8 I’d certainly rather have been able to jump around on an interactive dance mat with my ‘Bop It’, than have to sift through tonnes of gravel looking for another weed.

The other day I was watching my kids at play, spreading small plastic toys across the floor and building cubbies. Then the zoo animals came out, and my son decided to use a book to make a small tent, so that a pair of cheetahs and a goose could have a sleep – or so I thought.

But this is 2010 and the cheetahs had no intention of sleeping. Instead they were in there with Barbie’s laptop, staying connected to the world.

“Cheetahs are talking to Nana Dee on Sky”, my son informed us. That would be Skype to you or me.

“No they’re not”, responded my daughter, “they’re reading an email, then they’re going to watch Eastenders that Mummy downloaded last night.” Yes, it’s a very modern world our children are being brought up in.

God only knows what toys the next generation will have to play with, but I’m sure by the time I’m shopping for my grandchildren they will need a degree in mechanical engineering, a V8 engine and a litre of environmentally friendly rocket fuel.

Crimefighting 101

In the papers this week were two stories, which when read side by side, demonstrated that the world of law and order has indeed gone stark raving bonkers, and Mr Common Sense has obviously packed up his bags and left the police force.

First we have Miss Kausar, a farmer’s daughter in India. She went to her father’s aide when Pakistani militants broke into their home and started beating him with sticks. They had demanded food and beds for the night, and he had bravely (or stupidly, depending on which way you look at it) said no. Obviously having inherited the brave gene, Miss Kausar came out from under the bed and struck her father’s attacker with an axe. She then used his own AK47 to finish him off.

Next in the news we have Renate Bowling, a 71-year-old great-grandmother from Thornton Cleveleys in the UK. She went to her own aide, when an intellectually challenged member of the British youth threw stones at her window. Intending to give the yob a piece of her mind, she bravely (or stupidly, depending on which way you look at it) set off in hot pursuit and then prodded him in the chest as she told him what she thought of him.

In India, Miss Kausar was commended by the police for her act of bravery. She has been hailed a national hero and nominated for the President’s gallantry award.

In the UK, Mrs Bowling was arrested by police and charged with assault. She had to use her climbing frame to climb up into the dock and then plead guilty to the charges. She also had to pay £50 costs.

And the moron who threw the stones in the first place? Unbelievably, even though he left bruises on Mrs Bowling wrists, these were put down to ‘self-defense’ and he got off scott free.

Seriously? What is scarier? That the police saw fit to believe the sniveling little oik, and then shoved Grandma into the back of the van. Or that the magistrates, who are supposed to be in possession of a fully functioning brain, laid the blame squarely at a pensioners stocking clad feet.

It seems the days of wearing pants on the outside of your trousers and trying to defend yourself or your property are obviously well and truly over.

I remember about 15 years ago when we were living in Zimbabwe, our family home was broken into. The local police came to see us, and, if memory serves me rightly, said that next time if we were to see the intruders, we were to shoot them, drag them inside the house and then call the police. To my knowledge we didn’t even own a gun at that time, but there was the nice police man not only giving us permission to have one, he was also telling us we should be using one.

In the UK these days however, it seems the police really do seem to be showing just how little the ‘victim’ actually matters anymore.

They failed to put a stop to the Simmons ‘family from hell’, before they drove Fiona Pilkington to such depths of despair that she saw no way out, other than to burn herself and her daughter to death in their own car.

They also advised a mother in Warwickshire NOT to report a thug who had kicked in the front door and attacked her in her own home. Why? Because it might ‘inflame the situation’. Okay then. And there was us all being led to believe that the police were there to take the reports and then do something about them. Is that not why they get to waste tax payers money on their overpriced designer sunglasses and flashy top of the range cars in the first place?

It just wasn’t like that back in the days of Juliet Bravo – they got the job done. As did Cagney and Lacey, Starsky and Hutch and good old Edward Woodward in The Equalizer. And as for The A Team. Well, they could bring down an entire army with nothing more than a tractor, a sling shot and a basket of cabbages.

The police force today, it seems, can no longer even bring down the person who’s actually on the wrong side of the law.

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Dam those pesky beavers

The following made me laugh when it arrived in my inbox. Summing up the sort of monkeys who run our governments, here is an actual letter (and his reply) sent to a man named Ryan DeVries, by the Department of Environmental Quality in the US.gasrg

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SUBJECT: DEQ File No.97-59-0023; T11N; R10W, Sec. 20; Lycoming County

Dear Mr. DeVries:

It has come to the attention of the Department of Environmental Quality that there has been recent unauthorized activity on the above referenced parcel of property. You have been certified as the legal landowner and/or contractor who did the following unauthorized activity: Construction and maintenance of two wood debris dams across the outlet stream of Spring Pond.

A permit must be issued prior to the start of this type of activity. A review of the Department’s files shows that no permits have been issued. Therefore, the Department has determined that this activity is in violation of Part 301, Inland Lakes and Streams, of the Natural Resource and Environmental Protection Act, Act 451 of the Public Acts of 1994, being sections 324.30101 to 324.30113 of the Pennsylvania Compiled Laws, annotated. The Department has been informed that one or both of the dams partially failed during a recent rain event, causing debris and flooding at downstream locations. We find that dams of this nature are inherently hazardous and cannot be permitted.

The Department therefore orders you to cease and desist all activities at this location, and to restore the stream to a free-flow condition by removing all wood and brush forming the dams from the stream channel. All restoration work shall be completed no later than January 31, 2006. Please notify this office when the restoration has been completed so that a follow-up site inspection
may be scheduled by our staff.

Failure to comply with this request or any further unauthorized activity on! the site may result in this case being referred for elevated enforcement action.

We anticipate and would appreciate your full cooperation in this matter. Please feel free to contact me at this office if you have any questions.

Sincerely,
David L. Price
District Representative and Water Management Division.

Here is the actual response sent back by Mr. DeVries:

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Re: DEQ File No. 97-59-0023; T11N; R10W, Sec. 20; Lycoming County

Dear Mr. Price,

Your certified letter dated 12/17/05 has been handed to me to respond to. I am the legal landowner not the Contractor at 2088 Dagget Lane, Trout Run, Pennsylvania.

A couple of beavers are in the (State unauthorized) process of constructing and maintaining two wood “debris” dams across the outlet stream of my Spring Pond. While I did not pay for, authorize, nor supervise their dam project, I think they would be highly offended that you call their skillful use of natures building materials “debris.” I would like to challenge your department to attempt to emulate
their dam project any time and/or any place you choose. I believe I can safely state there is no way you could ever match their dam skills, their dam resourcefulness, their dam ingenuity, their dam persistence, their dam determination and/or their dam work ethic.

As to your request, I do not think the beavers are aware that they must first fill out a dam permit prior to the start of this type of dam activity.

My first dam question to you is:
(1) Are you trying to discriminate against my Spring Pond Beavers.
(2) Or do you require all beavers throughout this State to conform to said dam request?

If you are not discriminating against these particular beavers, through the Freedom of Information Act, I request completed copies of all those other applicable beaver dam permits that have been issued. Perhaps we will see if there really is a dam violation of Part 301, Inland Lakes and Streams, of the Natural Resource and Environmental Protection Act, Act 451 of the Public Acts of 1994, being
sections 324.30101 to 324.30113 of the Pennsylvania Compiled Laws, annotated.

I have several concerns. My first concern is; aren’t the beavers entitled to legal representation? The Spring Pond Beavers are financially destitute and are unable to pay for said representation — so the State will have to provide them with a dam lawyer. The Department’s dam concern that either one or both of the dams failed during a recent rain event, causing flooding, is proof that this is a natural
occurrence, which the Department is required to protect. In other words, we should leave the Spring Pond Beavers alone rather than harassing them and calling their dam names.

If you want the stream “restored” to a dam free-flow condition please contact the beavers — but if you are going to arrest them, they obviously did not pay any attention to your dam letter, they being may not be able to read English.

In my humble opinion, the Spring Pond Beavers have a right to build their unauthorized dams as long as the sky is blue, the grass is green and water flows downstream. They have more dam rights than I do to live and enjoy Spring Pond. If the Department of Natural Resources and Environmental Protection lives up to its name, it should protect the natural resources (Beavers) and the environment
(Beavers’ Dams).

So, as far as the beavers and I are concerned, this dam case can be referred for more elevated enforcement action right now. Why wait until 1/31/2006? The Spring Pond Beavers may be under the dam ice then and there will be no way for you or your dam staff to contact/harass them then.

In conclusion, I would like to bring to your attention to a real environmental quality, health, problem in the area. It is the bears! Bears are actually defecating in our woods. I definitely believe you should be persecuting the defecating bears and leave the beavers alone.
If you are going to investigate the beaver dam, watch your step! The bears are not careful where they dump! Being unable to comply with your dam request, and being unable to contact you on your dam answering machine, I am sending this response to your dam office.

THANK YOU.
RYAN DEVRIES & THE DAM BEAVERS

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Long live the King, the King is dead

Michael Jackson’s death will no doubt go down in history as one of those moments when everyone remembers where they were when they heard – just as when the first man walked on the moon, the Berlin Wall came down, Princess Diana died and 2 planes flew into the Twin Towers.

I was in the gym, peddling furiously away on a bike when I clocked the 3 TV screens above me and realised that something was amiss in La La Land. It took a moment to figure out exactly what was going on as the volume was turned down and my lip reading skills aren’t what they should be.

I immediately sent an SMS to my husband (which is not an easy thing to do whilst going uphill on Level 7) to ask him if he’d heard. He simultaneously called me to tell me the news. Apparently by this stage we were the last 2 people in this media led world to have heard the news.

Unsurprisingly enough, what has followed his death has been nothing less than the full blown media circus that you might expect. Every single TV channel has so far leapt with both feet onto the bandwagon, and bled the story dry for every last sensationalist drop. Tasteless jokes flooded the Internet before his time of death was even called, and desperate ‘comedians’ and talentless talk show hosts thought that the news was the perfect fodder for a few quick and cheap laughs.

Oh what a charmed and hypercritical world we live in.

A place where no matter how famous, successful or talented you are, the media would rather look for a way to break you down and pull you apart. That is of course, when you are alive. Should you die, preferably in an untimely, or even better, dramatic fashion, then every red carpet commentator and entertainment presenter will sure enough have something to say.

They will stand there, all primped, preened and ready for their moment in the spotlight, as they sing the praises of the dearly departed and talk about the travesty of a life lost. Oh please, what a load of cra*p.  These headline loving vultures are about as sincere in their grief as Hannibal Lector would be giving a rousing speech at a Pro-Vegetarian Convention.

If Michael Jackson had been in the news the day before, it would have been to make some snide reference to his weird appearance or spiraling debt. A chance to snicker over his eccentric behaviour, dredge up his checkered legal history or make even more assumptions as to why he did what he did.

If he had been on the news the day before, it certainly wouldn’t have been to commend his genius lyrics, his skill on the dance floor or the 5 decades worth of contribution he has made to the music industry. These sort of accolades, sadly, only come with death.

It would be nice to think that a man who has provided so many people with the musical backdrop for a lifetime of memories, be remembered for what he has achieved and not what he so royally buggered up.

OK, so maybe he did look rather odd, and for some strange reason chose to sleep in an oxygen chamber with a chimp called Bubbles. But for heavens sake, the inhabitants of Hollywood are powered by silicon and Botox, and half the stars are already onto their 2nd face. Joan Rivers certainly looks like an extra from Thriller, and no one seems to give her such a hard time.

And perhaps Michael Jackson did somehow manage to get himself into millions of dollars worth of debt, and then have to sell off his ranch and glittery glove to bring in some cash. But so what. Who are we all to judge? After all, those who live in houses built with credit cards, wear clothes bought with store cards and drive cars paid for by legal loan sharks, really shouldn’t throw stones.

Really, if you take comparative salaries into account, Michael Jackson buying a Ferris wheel and a couple of tigers, or a pair of 6 foot solid gold flamingos for his front lawn is really no different to the average person slapping a $1000 handbag or the latest Plasma on their plastic. Especially when they know all to well that there isn’t a hope in hell of ever being able to pay it off before the interest charges double the actual cost.

Michael Jackson lived his life on the stage, lost his childhood as a result and probably never really had a chance to grow up and experience the real world. Many would say that that was his choice, that he chose the life he lived. But those same people were also probably happy to sing along to the music he made and try their hand at a spot of moon-walking.

So lets hope, that instead of dragging his death through another media rumour mill, with endless ‘explosive’ new allegations and ‘shocking’ breaking headlines, he will finally be given a little respect and laid to rest in peace, and we can get back to our regular TV viewing.

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Who has the most talent?

Stop the press, hold the headlines, refresh your browsers. Susan Boyle wasn’t crowned the ‘Britains Got Talent’ winner after all.

Talk about the results not living up to the worldwide hype, or the bookmakers expectations. Despite being the favourite to sing her way to victory, the crown was whipped away from Ms Boyle and handed over to Diversity, a group of 11 incredible dancers from Essesx, aged between 12 and 25.

So why didn’t she win? Maybe the viewers, all 18.5 million of them, felt she had already achieved her place in the spotlight, and others now deserved a shot at fame more. Maybe people assumed she has her money making future in the bag, and no longer needed the prize. Or maybe people just thought the dancers were better.

Now I haven’t been watching the show, but I would have to have been blind, deaf and half way up a mountain not to have heard about the singing sensation that is Susan Boyle. I, along with some 220 million other people, watched her on YouTube back in April, when she first performed “I Dreamed a Dream”, from the musical “Les Miserables”. The video clip flooded our screens and filled inboxes everywhere. And I, along with everyone else, including the open-mouthed judging panel, sat and went – ‘Wow, that came out of that’.

Since then, she seems to have become something of the singing equivalent to Marmite – with her legion of adoring fans on one side, including Oprah Winfrey, Demi Moore and Jon Bon Jovi, and those who couldn’t wait to knock her down on the other. And there goes the fickle fame of fame, and the double edged sword of celebrity. Apparently, some people really don’t like to see a frumpy, middle aged church volunteer do well.

People’s obsession with ‘looking the part’ aside, what seems to me to be the most absurd, and probably saddest part of this whole singing circus, is that the day after losing the competition, Boyle checked herself into The Priory suffering from ‘exhaustion’. Isn’t The Priory the place that all those poor coked up celebrities crawl to, when they simply can’t deal with their charmed life and the negative press anymore?

Surely things can’t be that bad? Surely she can’t have got so bad in just a couple of months that she really feels the need for an ambulance and the assessment of the Mental Health Act – just to reconfirm that she’s tired and stressed? Why not just lock the door, take the phone of the hook and sit down with a nice cup of tea.

All this fame and glory must be a terrible thing to have to endure, it certainly never seems to make anyone happy. Oh well, she may not have won the competition, but at least she has the wealth still to come, with a reported eight million pounds up for grabs in the next year alone, from a record deal, book deal and possible film.

That should cheer her up a bit. It nothing else it will help towards the big black sunglasses, army of bodyguards and weekly sessions on the shrinks couch that she will certainly be needing, when the reality of her new life really kicks in.

I have to say, I was amazed that Susan Boyle didn’t win. Then I watched the clips below, and I could see why. She is without question a brilliant singer, but those dancers, they were just amazing.

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Watch Susan Boyle’s FINAL performance.

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Watch Diversity’s FINAL performance.

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Hands off cyber thieves

I have to quickly write this, because right now I am seething and spitting and at risk of exploding all over my office walls. It would not be pleasant, it would not be pretty and quite frankly I just don’t have time to clean up the extra mess.

Now everyone knows that the Internet means it’s impossible to protect your own work. And it’s a given that some lazy sod is going to come along and simply lift stuff straight from your blog to put on their own. This I accept, and for the most part I don’t really care – that is if they at least have the good manners to acknowledge where the words have come from and preferably link back to the original site.

So when I sit down at my screen and see that only hours after posting a new post, some thieving blog has already come along and taken my post for not 1 but 2 of their magpie filled sites. And when I say taken, I mean copied the lot and posted it as their own work… I could quite happily reach through the screen and ring the neck of ‘admin’.

To add insult to injury, when trying to leave a comment on my own article to suggest a link, I found that conveniently for them, this was not even possible to do.

Why am I so mad? Because I have little enough time as it is to write on my blog, fitted in as it is around my clients work, kids and life. So I really don’t appreciate having my time, effort and words robbed right off the screen.

Stealing is stealing, whether it’s with a ski mask, shot gun or a mouse. Why can’t people respect other people’s work, or better still, make the effort to write something for themself.

Grrrrrrrr…..

An email from President Obama

This morning, as I do every morning, I sat at my desk, opened my email and waited to see what tripe flowed into my inbox.

I was expecting the usual of course. A chance to buy some alarming looking apparatus to improve my love life. An invitation to view photos of some ‘designer watches’ or my future mail order bride. Perhaps a heart wrenching story that I had to pass onto 10 of my closest friends within 5 seconds, or risk being struck by a falling meteorite the moment I set foot outside my front door. Even an email from a long lost Nigerian relative, letting me know that I was but only a set of bank details away from inheriting my rightful fortune.

Any of these would have been right about the norm. But this morning threw up something a little bit unexpected.

An email from the most powerful man on the planet – President Barack Obama himself.

Yes, I did do a little bit of a double take I have to say, especially when I realised the email address was legit and he wasn’t trying to sell me little blue pills – with worldwide shipping and a discount programme.

Obviously I know the President didn’t actually sent it from his own Blackberry, as he wondered through the hallowed halls of the White House. And yes, I accept that it wasn’t written specifically to me, but hey, his name is in my inbox and that’s good enough for me.

So why did I deserve the honour? Probably something to do with the email I sent him, asking what he and his administration intended to do about the growing problem of childhood obesity. A problem which, I believe, stems in part from the many fast food companies who market their products directly at the young.

The companies who use cheap plastic toys as a lure, in order to put a colourful box full of salt, sugar and trans fats in the hands of hungry young children. The sort of companies who are, for all intents and purposes, aiding and abetting those parents who slowly murder their kids everyday with an unhealthy diet.

Hopefully such an intelligent and forward thinking man, with 2 young daughters of his own, will acknowledge the issue and give it the attention that it deserves.

And now that The President is in my address book, I will certainly be keeping an eye on any new health care reforms he passes, and hope that at some point he finds a way to put some form of media gagging order on those who profit off the greed and ignorance of the young.

I’ll give him 6 months, and if I don’t see anything happening, I guess I’ll be forced to drop him another line..

For those who might be thinking that I imagined my email, here it is.

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