Those who are into the whole evolution thing are always on about how the human body will change over time, adapting to the way we live our lives. The standard joke has long been that we'll all develop an enlarged right thumb from constantly pressing buttons on the TV remote control, and these days one could argue the same case for the index finger from all the frantic mouse-clicking.
It might actually be interesting to attach a miniature pedometer to your finger to see just how many clicks you execute in a day; it could be that using a computer is like taking your finger to the gym. Now there's a new marketing strategy.......
The flip side of this argument is the question of what will happen to the parts of the body that get used less with the most obvious cause for concern being the legs, and that's what I'm going to focus on today.
Yesterday I was waiting in a hairdressers while the wife was having her hair done, and as she was paying there was a call from a client cancelling her appointment because she had spent twenty minutes trying to find a parking space and was giving up. Absolutely pathetic.
We had parked on the outskirts of Ely by the golf course and walked into town - a smidge over a mile to the hairdressers - popped into Sainsbury's for a few bits, and then back to the car. Total distance covered was three miles with no ill effects whatsoever and definitely no parking problems. So what was wrong with little miss "Why can't I park my German 4x4 outside the shop door?". She's just one of the current crop of individuals who seem to consider it beneath them to have to use their legs. That's what poor people do isn't it? It's yet another case of someone who feels the need to live up to a bullshit glossy magazine ideal where everything comes easy, and the world is perfect.
If 'perfect' is how these people consider such a life, they're grossly mistaken. The average person living such a supposedly idealistic life is a self-centred obnoxious arrogant arsehole who I personally wouldn't want to associate with.
Side-rant over, and it's back to using our legs.
We see examples of this problem every time we visit a supermarket. People who'll sit and wait for ten minutes for someone to get back to their car and vacate a spot that's twenty feet from the door, when there's fifty empty spaces at the other end of the car park. If they parked over there instead and walked a little further they'd be in the store quicker, but clearly I'm missing the point somewhere.
The worst bastards for this are those who park in a disabled area even though they're not disabled or carrying a disabled passenger. Scum.
Then we have those who live a stone's throw from the local shop but will still get in their car and drive there to buy newspaper. Or worse still, the ones who will go to the local pub in the car, spend a night on the piss and drive the five hundred yards home. Why?
And of course we have the school run mums who block up the roads every day with their armoured personnel carriers because it's far too much to expect little Quentin to walk or cycle half a mile to school when he's so much safer sitting in a traffic jam for an hour.
If this trend continues and the evolutionists are right, future generations will have something resembling toothpicks dangling from their pelvis.
It's not all bad news though, because while half of the population are firmly stuck behind the steering wheel campaigning for drive-through botox clinics, the other half are reversing the trend by increasingly turning to cycling. Clearly fed up with the government's intention of making car ownership so expensive that only the rich can afford to drive, and the town planner's ingenious schemes to make town centre access more or less impossible, more and more people are leaving the car at home and turning to two wheels. With the trend for heavy cumbersome mountain bikes at an end, the market is now dominated by practical lightweight machinery that makes the majority of journeys quicker and easier than they would be by car while at the same time invigorating their riders with that wonderful feel-good factor that exercise gives, and that sitting on your fat arse in a traffic jam doesn't.