When I was a whippersnapper with a swagger, rather than the middle-aged waddle which defines me today, I couldn’t understand why old people talked so much about their past.
I have long since come to realise that it is because, no matter how many times they are shown, senior citizens can never get the hang of the TV remote control, so rather than sit in silence, pensioners will regale anybody who will listen with tales about how much better life was when avocado bathrooms were all the rage.
Considering the fact that, even now, I need help from a three and a nine-year-old in order to watch re-runs of Minder, then it is nailed on that I will need some top-notch anecdotes to see me through my autumn years.
Thankfully, this should not be a problem as there will be plenty for me to drone on about, when the time comes. Not only am I lucky enough to do a job where I meet extraordinary people from all walks of life, but I am not sure whether reality has ever been as barmy as it is now.
The US and Donald Trump have nothing on Brexit Britain. As a once committed Remainer, I have long been reconciled with the fact that, no matter how many Waitrose shoppers go on marches, there won’t be a second referendum, and we will be leaving on March 29 next year. How we leave is still to be agreed, but I am pretty sure that when we finally do, we will have been subjected to even more national ridicule, thanks to some of those who represent us in Parliament.
The Prime Minister has refused to back down on the plan for us to leave, which has been agreed in principle with the EU. The dramatic meetings, the resignations, the plots, the threats from men in smart suits, not to mention the letters from MPs who want to see Theresa May dance off stage for good.
People who know about such things say this is our nation’s biggest peacetime crisis, yet our MPs squabble like school children, arguing over whose turn it is to go in goal.
When I get really old, I will be able to tell of the time when Parliament really did lose its collective mind.