I'm in a bit of a quandary. By rights I should right now be stood by a roaring fire, watching incendiaries exploding over my head.
That's city life for you, I suppose.
But it is November 5th, Bonfire night. And we celebrate things on this night. I even held a fireworks party right here, on this very blog, last year.
But things are different this year. We've been told that setting off fireworks is a Bad Thing. There are considerations to be made. And let's be honest, we're still in the middle of a recession. I was going to have a firework party but decided that sitting at home setting fire to a £20 note every five minutes would be more effective.
Plus, it occurs to me that I was baptised a Catholic. Burning an effigy of a Catholic man is probably going to earn me at the very least a wedgie from the Pope.
So given that the forces of noise control, Health and Safety, fiscal prudence and religious sensitivity are allied against us, what can we do?
Well, sparklers are still OK. I would suggest that we just don't light them. See the look of glee in the kiddies' faces as they wave around lengths of stiffened wire in figure-of-eight patterns in the dark.
The bonfire is slightly more problematic. Hey grandma! Try this new cocktail of Baileys and Tabasco, then we'll all gather around as you do your party piece of falling asleep with your mouth wide open.
The fireworks could be a challenge. How do you replicate the effect of rockets trailing against a darkened sky, each reaching its own zenith and climaxing in a dramatic starburst?
Easy. A few pints of heavy, followed by a sharp blow to the back of a head with a blunt object. Works every time.
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