Kevin Courtneyon the merits of starting 'em young

Daniel will be a year old next week - better enrol him in school quickly or he might miss the whole education boat. Actually, forget school. Maybe I should sign him up for band camp right away, or perhaps send him off to Vienna to learn cello. You're never too young to rock'n'roll, so I don't see why Daniel can't crawl straight into a pop career and be able to afford his own private jet, gold-plated teething rings and personal nappy-changer.

These days, parents seem to be filling up their kids' free time with all sorts of activities, from music to fencing to applied mathematics. It's almost become a competitive sport, with points for the most pretentious subjects: "Finbarr goes to Krav Maga every Tuesday, and Wednesday afternoon is his Ondes Martenot lesson . . ."

As if to compensate for their own failings in life, these parents seem hell-bent on stuffing as many skills into their kids as possible, in the hope that they'll turn out to be a genius or, failing that, at least get rich (and cut Mum and Dad in on the profits). "I never had the opportunity to learn semaphore," you'll hear 'em say, "but by God, I won't let my son grow up deprived."

I must admit, the idea of getting Daniel into rock school kind of appeals to me - because, well, I never got the opportunity to, blah, blah, blah. The nearest I ever got to rock school was guitar lessons every weekend at Rocklands Youth Club. Brother Leonard taught us Scarborough Fairand Morning Has Broken, but what I really wanted to learn was how to play the riff from Get It On. Imagine a class that taught you The Jean Genie, Ballroom Blitzand School's Out- heaven.

Rock schools are now springing up all around the country, offering courses in riffology, tunesmithery and noodling. When Daniel is 12, I can enrol him in Salt Rockschool in Sutton, where he'll learn some kick-ass riffs from the guy who used to play guitar in Cactus World News. Frank Kearns started Salt Rockschool in 1991, and has been turning out teenage guitar heroes ever since, so if I get Daniel in there, he could be Jimmy Page by the time he's 15.

There is, however, a growing backlash against pushy parents "hothousing" their kids. Let children be children, say these concerned carers; stop filling their day with activities and give them time to just play. I agree - kids shouldn't have to spend summer afternoons trying to master the riff for Sweet Child O'Mine- they should be allowed to just jam out and improvise once in a while.

But seriously, looking at Brit School graduate Amy Winehouse and Mickey Mouse Club alumnus Britney Spears, I'm wondering if rock school and pushy parenting are not just one-way tickets to screw-upsville.

If you don't turn into a train wreck, you might end up like the latest pop sensations The Jonas Brothers - three talented, Christian, unctuous young whelps who are poised to be even bigger than Hannah Montana. These boys are so squeaky clean, they make Hanson look like Babyshambles. God forbid that Daniel should ever turn out like them. So it's straight into ordinary school, and I'm sure he can work out the riff for Californicationall by himself.