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The Grouch - February 06

RAGING HORMONES have a lot to answer for! And yes, I do have some sympathy for the confused youths of today who are just beginning to grow hair on their faces, but yet are still not quite men. They are still in that in-between zone where they think it is “cool” to be different, to be seen to challenge the accepted norms of society and to rebel against just about everything. But, their problem is really just too much testosterone!

The observation was sparked off by an encounter with one such youth. What he shouted in essence was, “Drop dead you old fart”. He used some tasty swear words which he delivered with venom and, in another time and in a different place, I would have grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and frogmarched him home to be taught some manners by his father. But, of course, the world has changed and the child of today now demands respect in the school, in the street and in public, often without having earned it. Oh yes, I know I sound like a Grumpy Old Man… and, well yes, I probably am, but at least I am not alone. I know I’m not alone.

What am I talking about? Well, it was just an everyday scene with pupils spilling out from school, chattering and fooling around in between mouthfuls of pies and sandwiches and chips and Coke and Irn Bru. The winter sun shone and people strolled and smiled and the world seemed to be a friendly place.

And then I did a foolish thing and it all changed.  It was to be my good deed for the day, intended to save the street orderly bending his back and thus saving the good citizens a penny or two in Council Tax. I admit that, perhaps, I might have wanted to get a subtle message across to the youth who absent-mindedly dropped his chip wrappings on the pavement. So, quietly, I stooped and picked up the wrapper and dropped it in the waste bin. I felt quite good having done that and perhaps I allowed a slight smile of self-righteousness to flit across my face. That was the big mistake! As I moved on, I got the message from the youth, loud and clear. He was just a boy really, a wee laddie with a big mouth who knew all the best Anglo-Saxon swear words. He needed a clip round the ear and told to mind his manners. But I dare not, we dare not and society cannot!

And then there was the boy/man who tossed a dozen traffic cones into the river, just for the hell of it. Now what I would really like to see is him made to wade into the water and salvage them all and put them back where they were needed. I would be among the crowd who would applaud from the bridge.

Privately, I know some folk think that - if we can’t flog them - then let’s name them and shame them. Get them to pick up the litter in our streets, help other people, take some pride in achieving something rather than destroying things.

It’s the testosterone that does it you know! It’s powerful stuff and it can mean trouble, big trouble. For instance, there are a couple of young drivers around and about who have fitted wide-mouthed exhaust pipes to their cars. We have all heard them revving up their engines in the town, with that deep throaty roar which is all part of the strategy to attract the female of the species. Some of us then begin to worry what the consequences could be when the girls leap aboard the passion wagons.

Add a little alcohol to the situation and we may read all too often of a possible result. “Three young people killed in smash at danger corner”, and then the grim story unfolds about the pain and the everlasting sadness. There are also the bikers who suffer from the same hormone imbalance, and who like us to hear how they can go from 0 to 60mph in 4 seconds flat on any bit of straight road - again and again. But that’s another story.

Oh, to be young again!

by Alex Peak

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