WHILE I had a soft spot for boy skaters and skateboarders in my teenage years, I never managed to stay upright and instead sat on the side and watched the lads jump steps, rails and anything else remotely jump-able.

So it amused me to watch the CCTV footage of 71 year-old Geoff Dornan whizzing down the high street on his roller blades. The sight of a man of his age weaving in and out of shoppers brought a smile to my face.

As did the video footage of Mr Dornan outside the court after being slapped with £300 fine, arguing with a man who claimed Mr Dornan’s crazy skating had nearly knocked him down.

I particularly liked the use of the word ‘nearly’ – as that’s open to much interpretation. For example, I was nearly knocked down by a bus had I not been on the pavement; I nearly died had I not remembered to breathe in and out.

I didn’t agree with everything Mr Dornan said (it was a bit of a rant). Part of me thought, yes, go for it sir, sock it to the man. He’s 71 for goodness sake. I only hope I’m that feisty at his age.

However, the programmed, PC side of me reasoned that the case would be different had the culprit been 15 and wearing a hoodie. Then we would all have demonised the boy, lamenting the loss of moral society and the stampeding rise of a lawless world.

Mr Dornan did break a local by-law which states: “No person shall skate, slide or ride on rollers, skateboards or other self-propelled vehicles in such a manner as to cause danger or annoyance”.

I’m itching to know what those other ‘self-propelled’ vehicles might be. That statement conjures a host of images. Bravo to the person who came up with the wording. Perhaps they scribbled it on a piece of paper and it was mistyped.

That would back up the latest theory that handwriting is under threat thanks to computers. Writing is dwindling to such a degree that experts reckon in a few generations children will be discovering tattered bits of paper and be unable to recognise the symbols inked on the page.

Mind you, the same could be said when I started writing shorthand – and that’s still a mostly illegible jumble of symbols. I do find the new fears difficult to believe, even if my own handwriting swings wildly from dainty and joined up to an erratic scrawl a doctor would be proud of.

The written word has been around for a considerable time and I fail to see how a computer keyboard or mobile phone will eradicate words as we know them.

Although, thinking about it, last week was the first time in months that I wrote a letter – on proper notepaper and everything. So it’s probably a good thing that I’ve typed all my columns using new fangled technology or some very different words may have appeared here each Saturday. But, sadly, this is my last one.

As of this week my ramblings, rantings and ravings will be no more. For almost two years I have tried to tackle various subjects, with entertainment hopefully to the fore. Apart from the comments, marriage proposal and letters of concern for my health I have received, all of which have been appreciated, it’s been interesting and a break from my ‘other’ life.

Alas, I have come to the end of my journey with this column. I would say I am out of words, however anyone who’s read this column will know that for an opinionated person such as me, there are always more words. Twitter here I come!