Prof Althouse has a post up about free-roaming childhood in the good old days. Read the comments, which broke my heart. My childhood: karate lessons, recorder lessons, and three hours of tennis training every day. And my parents wonder why the very sight of a racquet is enough to make me sick. But it all got me into Harvard, so it must have been worth it, right? Right?
If I ever have kids, I'm moving to the Outback and shooting any approaching college admissions officers on sight.