Friday, April 17, 2009

Bloatermog Teenage Kicks: With a feature in the local paper about the abundance of teenage pregnancies, it struck me that the best contraceptive my generation had, (with a few 'heat-of-the-moment exceptions, of course), was out-and-out blatant fear.
Yes, it happened, but the repurcussions from parents, grandparents and the chinese whispers around the village would have been tantamount to the couple concerned being publically shamed; and may as well have been.
Simply by way of our place in history, The Pill was available to my generation, but it was early days and not particularly trustworthy. And whilst many have and always will described the condom as like "washing your feet with your socks on," it was far better than being party to the subsequent wroth of bitter and twisted parents from both sides of the equation.
Whilst hairdressers were going through a lean time, especially from me as I didn't have a hair cut back then for 5 or 6 years, I was never asked "Would Sir like something extra for the weekend?" which was the hairdresser's polite way of asking if you wanted a packet of three?
Mine were bought from the machine in a pub for 2/6d (half-a-crown or 12 and a half pence) for that packet of three Johnnies, but I notice now they're about a pound each.
These days, young women see pregnancy as a way of escaping living at home with their parents as "it's boring," and if they lad concerned won't marry or at least live with them, well, they can stitch 'em up for some CSA, can't they.