I was overcome by a dose of nostalgia the other day. I forget what brought it on but I found myself longing for times where every things was so much simpler.

Oh, I remember now. I've just got one of those "smart phones." You know, the ones where you have to be smart to use them! I couldn't work out how to transfer all my numbers to the new one, how to reply to a text message, how to actually make a call... I think they are called smart phones because they make you feel DUMB.

And I started thinking of the things that made being a kid in Margaret River, when it used to rain nine months of the year, and drip off the trees the other three, such fun. And I started longing for crumbed fish... actually whiting. And their they were, at the Malaga Fish Markets - fresh whiting.

So Sunday night was absolute pleasure - I was a kid again - crumbed whiting with tomato sauce... didn't I mention that no food isn't improved by a liberal covering of tomato sauce!

There are so many fun things we used to do that kids of today can no longer enjoy. It’s either illegal, not PC or just not there anymore. It really brings a tear to my eye to look at my kids and think that they will never know the joy of:

• Going to the tip with your dad and picking over the mountain of rubbish. Ah, the seagulls, the rancid smell and that great find of the Barbie doll with its head missing.

• Burning off in the backyard. Our kids will never know the joy of chucking an aerosol can in and watching it explode.

• Going down to the milk bar to buy some smokes for your dad or neighbour when you were ten. (And with the change getting a Barney Banana or some liquorice blocks.)

• Sitting in class and drinking lukewarm milk and then feeling a bit sick.

• Running under a sprinkler without the words ‘water restrictions’ being mentioned. Slippery Slides are also out.

• Lying all day in the sun with zinc cream only on your nose. Our kids will never know what it’s like to burn so much that your skin starts to peel.

• Getting the strap/cane/feather duster/cricket bat in the Vice Principal’s office.

• Sitting on Dad’s lap while he drives the car. Or sitting in the car eating chips and drinking a raspberry lemonade while Dad goes to the pub. Or lying in the back bit of the station wagon for a nap while you cross the Nullarbor.

• Riding a bike without a helmet or shoes while dinking someone on the pack rack.

• Going on a bottle drive for Scouts around the neighbourhood, picking up empty beer bottles from the local alcoholics. Our kids will never know what it’s like to fall under the wheel of a trailer full of bottles and have the leader say, ‘Get up, you’ll be right,’ even though your leg will never feel the same again. (Based on actual events.)
   

That's it... its time to tackle that dam smart phone again... it will be tamed... it will be!

Inspired by Everything Tastes Better Crumbed by Dave O’Neil