In a world before the internet and on-demand everything, one of the highlights of the week was undoubtedly when the comic of your choice arrived at the local newsagent or dropped through your door courtesy of the paper boy.

Back in the day, they weren't all glossy covers and dripping with free gifts and TV tie-ups. If you were very lucky, you might, occasionally, get a lemonade sherbet dib dab attached.

The Beano or Dandy - to name the most famous - were printed on newsprint and the front cover was simply the start of the latest adventures of Dennis the Menace or Desperate Dan.

This was an era when that weekly dose of escapism was pored over by hundreds of thousands of children.

I'll be honest and say I've not read the Beano for decades, but I'm going to guess Dennis no longer spends his days bullying Walter 'the Softy'. Times have changed, and I'm assuming it's no longer the done thing to have the rough and ready Dennis picking on the rather effeminate (at least he was back in the day) kid.

Nor, one assumes, does Mr Menace Snr administer punishment to his tearaway son by walloping him with his slipper.

On the same topic, should the Bash Street Kids still be doing the rounds, I'm assuming the teacher doesn't still pursue his prank-crazed class swooshing his cane and dishing out six of the best.

The Beano had some classic characters - from Lord Snooty and his Pals (posh lad gets up to mischief) to Minnie the Minx (effectively the female equivalent of the aforementioned Dennis), to Billy Whizz - a character who supported a weekly column for heaven knows how many years by virtue of his ability to run very fast. You have to admire the storytellers for taking a simple premise and, ahem, running with it for so long.

As an avid reader I was one of the more than one million people to join the Dennis the Menace fan club. After sending a 30p postal order (remember those?) and waiting the eternity that was the 28-day delivery period, a little wallet would eventually appear containing a couple of badges (including a hairy Gnasher one - Dennis' dog - with googly eyes) and, if my memory serves me correctly, a fold out card with some code words to allow you to identify fellow members - or something like that. Even Mark Hamill, aka Luke Skywalker, was a member. I wonder how long he had to wait for delivery to a galaxy far, far away.

The Dandy, on the other hand, saw Desperate Dan scoffing his way through countless cow pies in order to maintain his supreme strength. Not one for today's vegans, his enormous dishes came complete with horns sticking out the top.

It also had the fringe-tastic Bully Beef (complete with his human punch bag Chips) - a character which would 'inspire' the classic Viz character Biffa Bacon. While Bananaman - who would go on to appear on the TV with the Goodies providing the voices - first debuted in the comic.

There were plenty of other comics to scoop up the pocket money of youngsters too. The Beezer, Whizzer & Chips and, as you got a little older, you could 'mature' into the likes of Roy of the Rovers.

Roy Race was the titular hero - the star forward (and then manager) of Melchester Rovers. In one, frankly at the time utterly thrilling, storyline he got shot. I can only assume this must have been close to when the TV world was caught up in the 'who shot JR' storyline from US soap Dallas. Fret not, young folk, he lived on to continue his remarkable career. Ditto JR Ewing for that matter. No one remembers who pulled the trigger on Roy any more than they do JR.

(Although, having just consulted the oracle of all truth, aka Wikipedia, I have just learned his career (Roy's, not JR's) was ended when he crashed his helicopter and had to have his magical left foot amputated. Who knew, eh?).

Christmas was never the same without a Beano or Dandy annual sticking out of your stocking.

Mind you, there was often scant regard for future re-sale values, courtesy of your local newsagent, as your house number was inevitably scrawled on the corner to help direct the paper boy. Not that many hold much value in this day and age.

A quick search on eBay reveals you can pick up a decent quality copy of the Beano from 1980 for less than £3. Mind you, that's still a significant mark up from the 7p (yes, seven pence) cover price.

Comics today face an almost impossible task to compete - bought, I imagine, primarily by parents and grandparents who remember the joy it once gave them. But things have changed dramatically. Children today have an array of entertainment quite literally at their fingertips, which would have made the heads of those of us in our comic-reading period in the 1970s and 80s go pop.

Mention comics today and the younger generation will think only of the Marvel and DC titles which spawn the next big-screen blockbuster.

Little wonder so few traditional titles have, therefore, survived.

But comics meant something back then. In a world where children's entertainment was limited, to put it mildly, this was a key stop-gap before we looked forward to the next episodes of wholesome family shows like Jim'll Fix It or Rolf Harris' Cartoon Time. Ahem.