Apparently the inventor of the etch-a-sketch, Andre Cassagnes, has died. The etch-a-sketch came out the year after I was born. I never owned one but my sister did and so I am familiar with the game. Burned into the retina of my mind is an early from when I was five or six. It was summer time and the grass had been cut in school and so kids were throwing it about. One twit decided to put a stone in one clump and throw it at me. It hit me in the head and I vividly remember putting my palm to my head and being horrified to see it covered in blood when I brought it back down. A teacher quickly arrived and I was taken somewhere that I'd never been before or since - to the headmistress's room (a Miss Morgan if I remember correctly). Now the thing is when we arrived, outside her door there was a tearful boy (Ashman if I recall) and he had in his hands something I'd never seen before or since - a broken etch-a-sketch. The vision of that grey sand has stayed with me all these more than fifty years as has finally arriving at the door of my home my head in a crepe bandage, to my mother's distress. Perhaps that bang on the head explains everything!