Stand and deliver, kids (From Bradford Telegraph and Argus)

Stand and deliver, kids

4:26pm Monday 8th October 2007

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Where have all the paper boys gone? That’s what I find myself asking myself every morning as I drive past a middle-aged chap and his dog delivering newspapers.

We’re now on nodding terms, and every time I nod and smile at him I wonder why a fifty-something man is out at that time of morning with a large fluorescent bag full of newspapers hanging off his arm. I mean I know he’s delivering said newspapers - but the question is why? Why isn’t some spotty-faced kid doing the paper round?

The middle-aged paper boy always looks cheerful, and for all I know he and his little dog probably enjoy their morning walk around the neighbourhood, posting ‘papers, comics and magazines through letter boxes as they go, but surely it’s a job for young teenagers.

Since there are posters bearing the word "Paper round vacancies" stuck to trees and lamp-posts near where I live, I can only assume that there’s a shortage of youngsters to do the job. I suspect the middle-aged paper boy is actually a newsagent who has been forced to take on the job himself because there aren’t enough kids willing to get up at that time of the morning.

Being a paper boy - or girl - is a rite of passage. It’s one of the first jobs you ever take on in life and with it comes a new responsibility and your very own wages. Okay, hands up, I was never actually a paper girl but from the age of 14 I had my fair share of Saturday jobs, from selling bridesmaid dress material on a market stall to making bacon sandwiches in a bakery, so I knew what it was like to get up early on a weekend and earn some cash.

At one time, if you wanted a newspaper delivery round your name went on a waiting list. It was a job that carried a bit of kudos - or at least it did for the lad who delivered the T&As on our street. He rode his bike with the effortless cool of the Fonz and was totally unfazed by snappy letter boxes and barking dogs. The girls on our street all fancied him - the highlight of our Tuesday was waiting for him to deliver our Jackie magazines - and we were inconsolable (for about two days) when he didn’t appear one day and we learned that another considerably less gorgeous lad had taken over.

If we’ve reached an age when kids aren’t taking on paper rounds because the little darlings can’t face the world at such an ungodly hour, and it’s too much like hard work for them, then there’s little hope for the next generation of Britain’s workforce.

And don’t tell me it’s unsafe for children to walk or cycle around neighbourhoods delivering newspapers. If we didn’t let children out because we thought it was unsafe they’d never leave their bedrooms. And these days most kids have mobile phones, so they’re a lot more protected than we used to be.

If it’s the case that parents don’t want their children doing paper rounds because they don’t want them out on the streets then I think it’s a great shame. I spent most of my childhood playing outside and I have much happier memories of that than I would’ve had of a youth spent watching endless telly and playing some daft computer game.

Parents need to let their children take a risk, take on some responsibility and self discipline, and experience the satisfaction of earning their own money. It’s what life’s all about. There’ll come a time in the future when they’re bogged down with mortgages, childcare fees and rising fuel bills and they might look back on that fluorescent delivery bag and those snappy letter boxes with some affection.