Talking about youngsters

I was walking back home this evening when a girl from the back of car full of youngsters passing there shouted at me "Watch your backpack - it's open!" Instantly I got it on the front to check if on the bus someone could have made me the nice surprise of the day. At the same time, a matter of seconds, I heard them laughing loudly. I must confess I did not felt as stupid as I normally feel in these situations. I mean: it wasn't even a joke. It was nothing. It was so idiot that.. nothing. My second thought was "forced labour". A good camp, built in the old way, in which to make them do something of the time they waste so happily and imprudently. It hasn't to be necessarily a prison. It could be an hospital, it could be a garbage dump, it could be a field of crop under the hot sun of midday. I don't know if it is the richness of our days, I don't know if it's the lack of a war or of a big disease that could kill the vast majority of us and make people feel the pain and the seriousness of their actions or non actions. But there's a fact: I feel every day older than before.