Optus has sponsored a series with Mamamia exploring different families’ relationships with technology. Andrew Daddo shares his with us.
It’s true.
I’ve just about given up with the “Get off your phone, Bro”. And the “Really, are you on that thing again?” I have partly because I can see it’s a losing battle, which is not a reflection of my children; that they are rotten and won’t listen to their darling father. They’re not, and they do listen – sometimes.
But I haven’t given away the “Get off your phone” game altogether. You have to understand I’m bogged in another time – call it the ‘Yesterday is Hero Complex’, but I tend to lean on the olden days like some crutch of happiness.
They were great, you know. This is ages ago – I’m talking pre-BMX.
Back when dragsters ruled and racing bikes were for weirdos. When magpies would peck the lids of our home delivered milk bottles to steal the cream. There was a time before seat belts and turbos and fuel injection. Footy jumpers were made of wool (which sucked), umpires wore white and were called white maggots. Cricketers didn’t wear numbers or have their names on their backs.
There were no giant screens at the footy!
There was even a band called Kiss! Think your Dad in a terry towelling hat – or a square hanky with knots tied in the corners on your grandpa’s head.
In a warped, almost embarrassing way, that’s where I’m spiritually moored, and I do recall it being quite good fun.