American idle

Mrs RCB and I were enjoying afternoon tea in the restaurant at Sandringham. An American family sat nearby. My attention was drawn to them firstly by their accents, then by the fact that their young teenage son was wearing a baseball cap. Being something of a snob in these matters I asked Mrs RCB what sort of parents allowed their offspring to wear headgear at the meal table. I then noticed that every twenty seconds or so the young brat in question suddenly extended his right arm to its full length in front of him, then returned it to its normal position and examined his palm. My annoyance turned to compassion: poor lad, I thought. He's obviously suffering from some serious physical affliction. How wonderful of the parents to be so patient with him. My admiration was short-lived. Half an hour later we were wandering through the excellent museum. There was the American family again. The adults were showing a keen interest in the exhibits, the afflicted teenager in the baseball cap following closely behind, paying no heed to the items on display but presenting the same physical symptoms. When I saw the reason for these all suddenly became clear and my sympathy disappeared instantly. In his hand was an iPod-like electronic device. Instead of showing a healthy interest in the exhibits he was going through the motions of ten-pin bowling and checking his score after each attempt. This is what he had been doing in the restaurant and was clearly what he was going to continue to do until falling asleep in bed that night. Oik.