Young children do not need computers! They need bubbles and balloons instead! Or ‘Hawkwind: their part in my downfall’
Date posted: Friday 25th September 2015
My children (and now grandchildren) often ask me, “What was it like to be young in Britain in the early 1970s?” It’s so hard to explain this to anyone who wasn’t there, or who was there but can’t remember because they were enjoying themselves so much at the time. I’ll try and sum it up as best I can: you were either a ‘teenybopper’ who liked Chicory Tip, or you were a ‘head’ who was ‘into’ Hawkwind.
Chicory Tip: a rubbish song, rubbish miming, rubbish video and even rubbish English on the karaoke!
But these were two extremes of a continuum. If, like most teens, you were somewhere in the middle, you could quietly appreciate Mud and T Rex for their undoubted rock ‘n’ roll roots, while dressing like a hippy and walking around with Wishbone Ash and Barclay James Harvest albums tucked under your arm, hoping to impress a passing ‘chick’.
Now that’s what I call miming. Mud: The Cat Crept In
I was 14 in 1971, and plunging headlong towards the Hawkwind extreme of the spectrum. I honestly can’t remember how I exactly ‘got into’ Hawkwind. All I knew was that they were an ‘underground band’. To me this meant that they played for free at ‘benefit’ gigs, took loads of drugs and weren’t ‘commercial’, because they didn’t release singles and none of their albums had been in the charts. And they had a bubble machine and used strobe lighting. And they had a dancer with them called Stacia, who used to cavort around the stage totally naked, except for a smattering of luminous paint.
Hawkwind : Silver Machine
In Summer 1971 I was planning to run away from home. Maybe it was testosterone, maybe it was teenage angst, but to me everything focused on my trousers. It seems that throughout history, in many cultures, trousers have always defined the man. In 1971 some guys were very well defined, because their trousers left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Do the words ‘loon pants’ mean anything to you? Here’s a photo that clearly outlines the shape many men were in.
Loon pants: Imagine there’s nothing left to the imagination
The trouble started at the beginning of the summer holidays, when my older brother decided I was grown up enough to wear his bright yellow loon pants. This was clearly a rite of passage thing, when in his eyes I emerged from being a spotty teenager with sensible straight grey trousers into a spotty teenager with the maddest trousers known in the history of bad taste. My mum was furious. “You can’t wear those!” She yelled, “What will the neighbours think?” (I was hoping their daughter would think a lot about them.)
I stormed out of the house, and nearly broke my neck as my 38-inch flares became trapped under my six-inch platform shoes. Somehow I managed to get the train to Guildford and headed straight for the record shop. A poster caught my eye (it had been carelessly attached to the wall with sellotape): Hawkwind were playing tonight at the Civic Hall! I couldn’t believe my other good eye! Why hadn’t I seen this in the NME Gig Guide? I rolled up the bottoms of my trousers and legged it as best I could over to the Civic Hall. Round the back of the building preparations were not in full swing. A lorry was parked up, but a solitary roadie was struggling to unload mountains of gear.
Stacia: Imagine the rest
“Oi mate!” he shouted at me, “You with the stupid trousers. If you give me a hand with this lot I’ll get you a free ticket for the gig, and you can come backstage and meet the band.”
Well, what would you have done? I rolled up my sleeves, and my trouser legs, and began heaving all sorts of weird and wonderful stuff out of the back of the lorry. There were massive rolls of cable, boxes marked ‘strobe lights’ and, lo and behold! an enormous crate with the bubble machine inside it! This was going to be some gig!
‘Del’ the roadie kept looking at his watch and getting increasingly agitated. “How are we going to lug all this stuff into the hall and get it set up ready for the sound check? “ He answered his own question: “I know. While I’m in the hall testing the bubble machine, you press-gang any youngsters who pass by into giving us a hand. Tell them you’re with the band and you can get them backstage tonight.” In no time an army of 14- year-old boys were heaving gear out of the truck and dragging it into the building. Del emerged from the hall just as one of the lads had discovered a small drawstring bag made of purple crushed velvet and fashioned with gold runes.
“Cheers mate!” beamed Del. “I’ve been searching for that little beauty everywhere! That’s Stacia’s sacred bag of luminous paint, and she refuses to strip off without it. The other night she wore a dress on stage and half the audience walked out. Then the bubble machine packed up and the only people left in the hall were the organisers of the benefit and a few ‘heads’, who had no idea where they were anyway.”
We all suddenly turned as we heard the tinkle of broken glass. One of the ‘road crew’ had just dropped a tiny phial containing a dark brown liquid. “Oh no!” wailed Del. “Now we are really in trouble. That was Dik Mik’s magic potion.” (Dik Mik, AKA Richard Michael Davies was Hawkwind’s legendary electronics expert. )
Del was true to his word and we all got to meet the band before the gig. They were surprisingly funny and friendly, and very ‘together’. And they all ‘digged’ my loon pants, and understood why I should want to leave home. All of them , that is, except Lemmy, who was a tad sarcastic: ” I agree with your mum,” he snarled in his trademark Brummie brogue, “Don’t leave home over a pair of trousers. Anyway, from what I can see, there’s nothing in there to be imagined.” Lemmy, not surprisingly, was eventually fired from the band.
But there was to be more drama. It was Del’s job to go to the nearest chip shop and get the band’s fish and chip super before the gig. I volunteered to go with him. As we left the dressing room Dik Mik shouted out, “And remember, I never have any vinegar on my chips!” As we were queuing up in the chippy Del explained about the vinegar. “We were doing a benefit with a few other bands and Dik Mik started hallucinating just before we went on. Ever since he’s been convinced that one of The Pink Fairies spiked the vinegar he sprinkled on his chips. The gig was a disaster, because without Dik’s electronics we sounded just like any other rock band. Then the bubble machine packed up and Stacia got the hump and refused to strip off.” The little bottle had contained Dik’s private stash of malt vinegar that he guarded as if it were the elixir of life itself. Dik was very temperamental and claimed that without vinegar on his chips he couldn’t get his ‘audio generator’ to make the right noises.
Back at the gig there was a carnival atmosphere outside, as hundreds of ‘heads’ (and 14- year-old boys trying to look like ‘heads’) queued up to get in. There was even a guy making balloon-art (You know the sort of thing, twisting thin, sausage-sized balloons into little dogs, or maybe a sword or a hat to wear.) Either he wasn’t very good at it or he was ‘on something’. He thrust one of his creations in my direction. “What’s that, man?” I drawled in my best ‘head’ manner. ”Use your imagination man, he drawled back.”It’s cosmic. Search your soul, man, and tell me what it reminds you of.” It looked like half an octopus. A chick dressed in a kaftan and a rather fetching cheesecloth smock, denim flares and clogs was listening in, so naturally I said, “My yin and yang. And my tantric karma as well.”
The balloon tamer was suitably impressed: “Wow man, that’s far out. It’s yours for 10p” The girl in the kaftan sneered and muttered, “Bloody teenyboppers” under her breath.
Unfortunately I had made a classic schoolboy error by going outside, because as the doors opened, the bouncer taking the tickets refused to listen to my plea that I was ’with the band’. I went round the back, but my way was barred by another bouncer: “Listen kid. Either buy a ticket or sod off’ was his advice. I had no money (I’d given my last 10p to the balloon artist.) So I sat outside the hall and tried to listen to the space rock music coming from inside. Suddenly the doors were flung open and a mass of 14- year-old boys stormed out. “What an absolute swizz!” complained one of the boys in a decidedly posh accent (they were from the local public school, Charterhouse). “We paid £1.50 and the bubble machine won’t work, the lights keep flashing on and off, there are no cosmic spacey sounds and dash it all, Stacia has kept all her clothes on!”
He must have realised that he was talking to a ‘head’ because just then he spotted my yin and yang tantric karma balloon. “Wow, man, that looks far out! Is it an octopus? How much do you want for it?” Without thinking, I replied, “I was with the band, but I’ve just quit for ideological and spiritual reasons. It’s meant to represent Stacia’s Shakti. Have it for nothing.” (At the time I had no idea what a ‘Shakti’ was. Now I know, because I have seen a lot of them recently in temples in Cambodia.)
I didn’t run away from home (the loon pants were too dangerous). After ‘Silver Machine’ reached number three in the charts, and their album ‘Space Ritual’ peaked at number 18, I decided the band had become too ‘commercial’ (man) and listened to Gong instead, safe in the knowledge that their albums were never going to make the charts, because they were only accessible to the initiated (i.e. discordant rubbish).
So what has this all got to do with young children and technology? Well, Hawkwind, like Pink Floyd, relied heavily on technology, and without it they would be quite ordinary. I see a lot of young children with tablets that have apparently amazingly educational games and apps on them. There’s even an app for your smartphone that when you blow into the microphone it inflates lots of virtual balloon animals. But I can’t help feeling that this type of IT is really pointless. Many games are designed to be highly addictive, and I see many young children with tablets concentrating for literally hours on their games and getting very upset when their parents tell them it’s time to stop. And by ‘very upset’ we are talking rage and even violence against parents.
But I still see young children in a state verging on ecstasy when they are given some bubbles to blow or a balloon to play with. My grandchildren love it when I get my bubble machine out in the garden. (Strangely, they are not so keen on me playing Hawkwind at the same time, with the hi fi cranked up to 11.)
And before you accuse me of being a hypocrite, because I have obviously used a computer to write this post, I’m not against IT per se. I just don’t want adults to give it to young children, and I don’t want to see it in early years settings either. But surely children need it to learn to write? Give them nice pencils and paper and spend time chatting with them about what they are creating. What about helping them to read? Share a book with them. But there are great programs to help them create pictures. Use a brush and paint and a nice big piece of paper instead.
I’m writing a book about children and mark making and early writing, and there will be no mention of using IT, apart from links to useful websites. The whole process involves hands, talk and fun. In other words, being ‘unplugged’.
To research this post I’ve been looking at loads of Hawkwind-related stuff on the net. If you don’t believe me about the balloons, take a look at this clip. If my eyes don’t deceive me, there’s a guy in the crowd holding up a bright green alien made out of balloons.
Hawkwind: I’ve got a green inflatable alien
And finally, click here to find out all about Hawkwind, but be warned, it’s NSFW (Not Suitable for Work)!
And finally finally, if you ever wonder what Hawkwind would have been like without technology here’s a frightening insight
Hawkwind unplugged : Where’s Stacia?
And finally finally finally, even The Clash and The Sex Pistols had to grow up and go acoustic. Has the world gone mad, or is it me?
Take very great care out there (man)!
Michael
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j4xoxFrRA2Q
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As a Computer Scientist, I think that children should be kept away from computers as much as possible. And in terms of in education, there was a report recently that said computer use in schools may result in lower results: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/business-34174796
I have been volunteering in primary schools locally, introducing teachers to the new computing curriculum as part of the Barefoot project (http://barefootcas.org.uk/), and what’s interesting about it is that most of the activities try to be as “unplugged” as possible, which is a great move in my eyes.
It’s a shame people think that kids need to be entertained 24/7 – if they’re stuck in front of a screen, then they aren’t having fun thinking of ways to stop themselves from being bored!! But maybe I’m just a bit too traditional…
Hi Ed
I think many people would describe your attitude to computers and education as ‘counter-intuitive’ (sometimes interpreted as ‘you are saying something too challenging for me to cope with’!!)
Your comment about boredom is very interesting. What do you think about offering children screens and computer games on long car journeys, in airports and on long-haul flights?
Regarding journeys, kids need to learn to be bored. Otherwise they’ll never develop an imagination. They’ll just think in the way Disney wants them to think.
I agree (or should I say ‘akuna matata’?) That does put the onus fairly and squarely on the adults to plan for the children to have things to do and interact with them and encourage them to be imaginative.
Recently I spent 90 minutes of a highly tedious car journey playing ‘going through the alphabet and thinking of as many bands we can name beginning with that letter’ (All the passengers were adults in their 50s so we had huge scope!!) The journey flew by (though can you name a band beginning with ‘y’??)
Take care out there!
Michael
I agree that young children should not be using computers and phones to be entertained. I have 2 grandchildren aged 4 and 1 and they both like to play outdoors and indoors and using materials that we find for arts and crafts etc and even simple peepo games they enjoy more than being sat in front of the telly and computers. It has got to be interaction in children’s lives with people for them to get along socially and emotionally in their lives.
Hi Debbie
Thank you for replying. I feel that it’s all about being able to find a balance. Unfortunately many/most computer games (even educational ones) are designed to be almost addictive.
Parents have the responsibility to make that balance, especially when their own lives are dominated by IT.
Very best wishes
Michael
I love reading your newsletters. I am still laughing at this one. ” I stormed out of the house, and nearly broke my neck as my 38-inch flares became trapped under my six-inch platform shoes.” I have a mental image of this and can’t stop laughing. I think it’s because I can relate to those times and some of the things you say bring back funny memories. We had some great times in those days. They only seem like yesterday! I suppose the young ones have their great times too but in a different way maybe.
Our children in Cambodia certainly don’t have to worry about computers as most of them don’t even know what the word means. They love chasing bubbles and trying to blow them themselves. Our older class (and I am talking from 16 to early 30’s) love playing the games that the young kids play. I think because they never had childhoods themselves, always study, study, study, work, work, work to try and improve their situation.
Anyway I look forward to a good laugh next newsletter.
Cheers, Janine
Hi Janine!
It’s so wonderful to hear from you out there on the edge of the forest in Cambodia!!
We don’t know how lucky we are. I must admit I have just had a good old cry thinking about what you have written about your older students. While I was worrying about fashion and what type of image I wanted to project, people in Cambodia were living in labour camps and being brutally murdered for being educated.
It’s nice to know about computers, and even own a laptop and have wifi, but things have got totally out of hand over here. Visiting your school was our most vivid memory of Cambodia (and we have so many memories of that amazing country!)
Keep up the great work and I’m delighted to have made you laugh!!! Those certainly were crazy days back in the 70s: the clothes were just so impractical, for a start! Who invented platform shoes? Luckily I progressed to ‘desert boots’ (those nasty suede shoes) but you had to clean them with a special spray and your feet were either stinking with sweat or soaking wet, as they just absorbed rain water like a sponge, and then the surface dried to a nasty crust and it didn’t matter how much you sprayed them with deodorant or splashed Old Spice or Brut (or even your girlfriend’s ‘Charlie’ or even ‘Tramp’) inside them, they still stank like hell when they dried. And why would anyone want to wear an Afghan coat? The Afghan goat herders must have died laughing when they saw the European hippies in Kabul wearing their old cast-offs!
And what was patchouli oil all about?!?
I’ve almost finished my book on children’s early writing and it should be out in January.
Very best wishes and keep up the great work st Kep Gardens
Michael
Hearing Silver Machine always takes me back to my teens. It was always ‘the’ song to dance to at any disco. I seem to remember not moving my feet but lots of arm, head and body movements. IT does seem to have taken over children’s lives. I am a bit of a Luddite but accept IT has a place in society. However, if you ask me to name the favourite activities of our pre-school children I would say painting, play dough, sand, water and just generally digging in anything. The one thing these activities have in common is that they are messy. I have lost count of the number of times parents have said to me, “oh I don’t let them paint at home; I don’t like the mess.” I often wonder why these people introduced children into their well-ordered lives. Surely part of the joy of having children is to share a wide range of experiences with them. I’m sure part of the reason lots of people work in early years is so that they can continue with messy play once their children have grown, only to retire when they have grand-children to continue with. (That’s part of my plan.)
Hi Carol!
I’m with you all the way on this one!!
Thank you for replying!
Best wishes
Michael
Ps upcoming post will be about ‘glasses’ and another on collecting conkers!
Like 80s music to my ears!
I seem to be constantly bemoaning the excessive use of ICT as part of our daily lives – especially when families are sat ‘together’ at the dining table, each glued to their IPhones, I Pads and mobile phones.
What happened to good old fashioned talking?
Hi Mine!
We have a ‘no phones and iPads’ rule at our table, for all family and visitors. If we are talking and someone says ‘I’ll just google that’ it usually means that they will check their emails first, make their factual point and then they are lost to the world of the Internet. We find that certain guests can’t do without their phones and iPads all the time, so we have banned all IT from the table.
We can’t blame children for being like that if that’s what they see from adults.
Great to hear from you!
Michael
Couldn’t agree more. The children at my nursery don’t have access to tablets, laptops, computer games and T.V. at nursery and NEVER ask about them. They are too busy playing, creating, building, experimenting, sharing, climbing, growing fruit and vegetables, making models, dancing, gardening, painting, drawing, dressing up, making up plays, examining butterflies, re-cycling, litter-picking and so on!! Their days are far too busy being socialable learners with good literacy and numeracy skills.
Wow Gillian!!!
Thank you for replying. Please pass on my blog and start a debate (though some aspects of it are NSFW (Not Suitable for Work!!)
Very best wishes
Michael