Materialism and play

I was searching through past pictures and found these.

The photos were taken in mum's backyard. The little house was originally a dated dark brown, which I only vaguely remember because mum repainted it and added the cute semi-circle trim. The fake fruit hanging inside has been there for as long as I can remember. I remember selling leaves out the side window to my dad. He paid with more leaves, I think.

I miss playing cricket in the backyard. I miss the little yellow bat and the tennis ball on a pole that creaked and swung around in circles as you hit it. I miss the fluoro velcro mitts that would stuck to the ball when you made a catch. I miss pushing my cousin around our street in the old pram in our garage. I miss games and play. I don't think there should be an age when it stops and you're "too old for it".

The cubby is now mostly storage for all of the things I wasted my money on and accumulated when I was a teenager. Clothes and bags and accessories and knick knacks. I wish I'd spent my time playing games instead, because none of it meant anything to me.

There's something very sad about materialism. Outdoor games are being replaced with computerised ones. A ball could last many years and be the source of a million different games. Whereas, computer games are constantly being upgraded with better technology and ideas so they're only fresh for a little while. And there's only one game to play with each - the one that's been programmed for you. For a few years I used to play computer games a lot. I can't remember one instance where I looked back on an occasion playing any of these games with fondness.

I'm not old-fashioned. My ears still perk up when the prospect of playing a Nintendo Wii comes about. I just think there's something important to be said of simplicity.