Os novos punks

Remembering what I was like at fifteen, I wriggle pleasurably at the thought of how it would feel in 2016 to tell a teacher that, no, I couldn’t possibly ‘e-mail’ my homework, because I don’t have e-mail:

‘I’m not on your email, miss/sir.’

‘Don’t be absurd, Stephen. Email me the essay as soon as possible.’

‘I will write it and bring it in to class tomorrow for you to mark. I’ll do that happily.’

Sudden sympathy. ‘Oh. If there’s an issue … if your parents can’t afford broadband or a computer, there are government schemes…’

‘My parents do have the band that is broad of which you speak, miss. They offered me one of the machines that understands the language of the “e-mailings” that so excites you. But I want no part of such elec-trickery.’