Since last Monday, large parts of this nation have been plunged into a state of hysteria after it was announced that our most popular Harry is to marry his American girlfriend Meghan Markle.
Anybody who walked into a newsagent or supermarket the day after the engagement was announced would have done a double take due to the beaming image of the happy couple on the front of all the top selling national daily newspapers.
I dare say that the decision to go with the news about the impending nuptials of a pair of thirtysomethings will prove to be a wise one. Who says that only bad news sells newspapers?
It doesn’t matter what you think about our Royal family, the fact is they are big business and, between now and May, we will see a relentless drive by an army of industrious Del Boys to flood the market with Royal wedding tat.
We have been here before of course – six and a half years ago the nation ground to a halt when the future King and Queen, Wills and Kate, tied the knot amid a public display of national pride. Royalists slept on the streets of London for days just so they could get a fleeting glimpse of the newlyweds. I have met a number of these people over the years and, despite the popular perception, they are not all insane. It is just that they have an obsession with royalty, a hobby which gives them a sense of satisfaction.
And that’s the point isn’t it? Royal watching gives many of us the opportunity to escape from the stark reality of our own lives.
We live in challenging times: a nuclear standoff between two of the most bizarre world leaders in modern history, the ongoing saga that is Brexit, not to mention a stuttering economy, so is it any wonder escapism is required?
The next six months, which would have otherwise been all about the EU, will now be dominated by a wedding which will see many of us reaching for the bunting and plastic party hats.
We are safe from an alien invasion any time soon.