IT'S an innocent scene repeated daily right across our country between 3pm and 4pm ...
Parents rock up on foot and in cars to collect their children from the school gates.
There is nothing wrong, individually, with what each mum and dad is doing as part of the school run. They do it out of love and duty.
Collectively though, to see it happening sends a shudder down my spine - because it signifies a sinister change in social behaviour which has happened within my lifetime.

Previous generations were happy for children aged above six or seven to make their own way home from school each afternoon - or be guided en route by an older sibling.
Now that's all changed and most people live with constant fear and paranoia about their children ... and a mistrust of any adult who comes near them.
What the hell has gone wrong? Why are parents so worried and overly protective about their children? That can't be good for the kids. It can't be good for the parents.
Well, for starters, there has been a lot of publicity about predatory child abuse and molestation, which understandably alarms people.
As to whether there are now more monsters and perverts around than in previous decades who are intent on doing vile things to children, who knows? The evidence, as far as I can tell, is unclear.
Uncomfortably, however, we know one thing for sure; abuse of children is much more common within families than it is at the hands of lone strangers who lurk, for instance, close to the school gates.
But there other worries for parents; drugs being offered to kids, for instance, or bullying of a most vicious type, perhaps even knifings.
I wouldn't blame any parent worrying about such things.
If I'd been blessed with kids of my own I would doubtless be worrying myself sick now.
Still, we must always strive to live in hope and trust.
It strikes me as worth stating that our society has lost something of profound worth if it automatically assumes that the streets, in broad daylight, are no longer safe places for kids age over seven to walk in relative safety.
Why shouldn't kids walk home from school by themselves? It is good for the environment; and it is good for the kids, giving them a chance to let off steam and socialise with other youngsters without the restraining influence of the school environment.
If the same kids who are not allowed to walk home from school are also discouraged from playing out in the streets and recreation grounds after tea-time then I feel really sorry for them.
I remember how playing out in the streets and public places until dusk was so liberating to my imagination when I was a youngster.
And I simply do not accept that kids playing with computer games in their bedrooms can be anywhere near as healthy for them - physically, emotionally, mentally or spiritually.
And so when I see scores of worried looking parents, on foot and in cars - as I did on Thursday afternoon in Helsby in Cheshire - picking up their kids from school, I see beyond the superficially pleasing image of people caring for and protecting their offspring.
I see a society that has gone badly wrong; that has forgotten how to trust; that has said farewell to innocence.
And it grieves me, it really does.

I NOTE that the ever-deteriorating Royal Mail is launching a politically correct series of stamps intended to commemorate women of distinction.
The trouble is one of those women, Marie Stopes, does not deserve the honour.
She was a eugenicist, an admirer of Adolf Hitler (she sent a collection of poems and a gushing letter to him), and she advocated sterilisation of the poor and those of mixed race.
Marie Stopes International - the organisation set up in her name - is a major international provider of sterilisation and abortion.
Which person of distinction will Royal Mail honour next ... King Herod?

FEELING wearied by the pressures of modern life and money worries, I sloped off last night for a few scoops of red wine in Hell's Waiting Room, New Brighton.
Well, in its charming Smoke Hole at the back, to be precise.
I'm glad I did. I chatted in there to Billy Bustimes, who is off the booze due to liver illness (he sups non-alcoholic Becks nowadays) and Mini-Marvin and his new squeeze, Precious.
The landlady Eleganta Chignon was in and so was the smiley guy who I still think of as a "new" barman, Mr T.
In the long bar I was pleased to see Barman Burly - as a customer that night, not pulling pints. He looks a lot healthier after his recent illness.
I'd like Burly to come to the next Bards of New Brighton session at the Mags (Monday 13 October, starting at 8pm!) and do some of his poems and sing his sublime version of "Leaving' on a Jet Plane".
Everyone kept asking how Posh Boots was and sending her their love. She was in Liscard (Wallasey town centre) having pulled a muscle in her neck.
I enjoyed my wine and I smoked six roll-ups in a row in delicious liquorice skins. They were just lovely, and I offer them up as my two-fingered salute to the anti-smoking health nazis.
At last knockings, in came Jack (of Jack and Jools fame). He'd recently picked up his pet dog up from the pound. It had gone missing some weeks ago. Was it pleased to see him then? "Err, not really, and he looked a bit thin." Hey-ho.
Anyway, once again I got my head together in Hell's Waiting Room. The world is still OK.
Life is still worth living as long as you are determined not to let the forces of evil - which are legion, my friends - grind you down.
Keep the faith!!

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