Ah, those were the days - when you could leave your doors unlocked and children played safely outside. A utopian, sepia-tinted existence where everyone looked out for one another, good neighbours who would watch the kids as mum and dad took an hour for a pint and a bag of scratchings.

At least, that’s how we like to remember it. But let’s be honest: that golden age never really existed. Thieves and predators have always been around, lurking in the shadows, and anti-social behaviour has always been with us.

As for the pub, being of a certain age, my earliest memories involved sitting in a dimly lit corridor with a bottle of warm lemonade and a bag of crisps, desperately hoping the salt packet wasn’t soggy (remember them?).

Heaven forbid a child actually step foot inside the bar itself. "We don’t want kids in here!" was the usual refrain.

The only exception was if you were there for a meal, and even then, you’d be swiftly (and not always politely) shown the door the moment the last bite was........

© Shropshire Star