🎡 Face to Screen at the Village Green
There was a time when the village green was loud with laughs, spilt slushies, and “Have a go on the tombola, love.”
Now it’s pings, poses, and people walking into stalls because they’re watching their own livestream instead of where they’re going.
Events haven’t just changed. We have.
We’re showing up in body, sure — but our minds? Stuck in the glow of a rectangle.
📱 From Face to Face… to Face to Screen
Look around next time you’re at a local do.
The brass band starts playing — and half the crowd whips out their phones. Not to clap. Not to cheer. To record.
Kids are dancing in front of a screen instead of a stage. Parents are filming instead of joining in. A nan tries to say hello, but gets a distracted “hang on” because someone’s mid-TikTok.
It’s face to screen at every turn. Real life, postponed — for a better angle.
🎤 You Can’t Clap with Your Thumbs
There’s a funny thing about watching everything through your screen: you forget to actually be there.
At the bonfire, instead of warming your hands, you’re filming the sparks.
At the parade, instead of waving to your niece, you’re adjusting the filter.
We’re trading presence for pixels. And that’s a bad deal.
🔧 Reclaiming the Moment
Nobody’s saying “ditch your phone.” But maybe… pocket it?
Try watching without documenting. Laughing without filming.
Let your next local memory live in your mind, not your media library.
Because the best bits of life don’t need editing. They just need you — not your face to screen, but your face in the moment.
😂 oavo’s Cheeky Closer
Next time you’re at the fair, and you feel the itch to post, pause for a second.
Ask yourself: “Would I rather remember this… or replay it?”
Because once you go full face to screen, you might miss the very thing you came for.
📢 Limericks from the Lounge
I tripped on a cable — not gin.
A tripod stood proud,
Streaming some crowd,
That were too busy texting to win.
Gave zero attention to slips.
He sat on a bee,
Then blamed 5G —
And posted, “Emergency! Hips!”
While a lass did a dance on a board.
Twelve takes and a pout,
Till her battery gave out —
So she sobbed by the churro stand, floored.
But phones were the main event.
Not a clap, not a cheer,
Just “Sound’s dodgy here” —
Then a tweet: “Bit pitchy. 3/10.”
Asked, “What’s all this? It’s just weird!”
“No tombola,” he said,
“Just phones and duckheads —
And a cake stall that’s now disappeared!”
Yelled, “Prank time! We’re viral — woohoo!”
The dad chased him fast,
Right past the brass —
And knocked over Miss Green of ’02.
“Enough of this screen-based joyride!
Pick up a stick,
Play hook-a-duck quick —
And wave at your nan with some pride!”