So I did something proper self-indulgent this last week, well suited a bloke in his 50s - I watched somne damned Snooker, live from The Crucible, in Sheffield...
It's a funny old game is Snooker - and of course it's not just a game - it feels like it's playing role defending our national identity -
It used to be purely a Brits thing - back in the 1980s Cliff Thorborne and Steve Davis, and jumpers for goalposts. OOoh yeah.
But now of course it's all very much more international - there were at least three Chinese in this year's main stages...
But there's something about this year's tournament - with the event still in Sheffield for the next 20 odd years and seeing Jon Higgins looking like Phil Mitchell hold his own, until he was defeated by Shaune Murphy, and of course the old players come commentators....
It all felt just a bit like everything is OK with the world again this May Bank Holiday.
All a total myth of course, and that young Chinese kid is probably going to win,
But there you go, I'll take a bit mythic nostalgia over a few beers at home alone!
And we got treated this year to that bizarre longest frame ever too....
Everyone loves a bit of safety, right?!?