A Day of Self-Indulgence

You know you must be getting on a bit when you daren't stop on a busy high street in case some do-gooder wants to help you across the road.

Okay, I know I'm not quite at that stage yet, but there are times when I realise I'm not as young as I used to be, and there are days when I want to shout out (to anyone who'll listen): "Stop the world. I wanna get off!"

It's at times such as these that there really isn't anything else for it but a day of therapeutic self-indulgence – and, for me at least, this almost always involves a large helping of Shrewsbury.

And so it came to pass that I treated myself to just such a day last week, a day packed full of the things I love.

Oh, before you ask, by the way, my wife and my mother-in-law (always listed among the things I love, needless to say) had taken themselves off to the Shrewsbury Flower Show for some quality mother-and-daughter time, and our sons were out and about doing other things. So, yeah, I had the whole day to myself.

The delicious ingredients of my special day were beginning to arrange themselves into an irresistible soufflé.

So let me see now. There was my aforementioned large helping of Shrewsbury, there was chocolate, The Beatles, beans on toast, the library, a long chat with a dear friend, sunshine, coffee, Castlefields, a riverside walk, and a Neil Gaiman novel.

It was a day that ticked a lot of boxes.

In brilliant sunshine I walked over the Castle Walk and the Castle Bridge (a stretch that, as a boy, I walked twice a day, first on my way to school, then on my way home). And then I was in Castlefields and the life-enhancing streets of my childhood, streets packed with history and happy memories. This always does my heart good.

Strolling along the riverside on such a beautiful day, my cares began evaporating. And then it was on to the splendid Shrewsbury Library for peace and contemplation within its elegant rooms. There can be few other libraries in this kingdom quite as lovely.

Upon my return home it was time for a revitalising spot of lunch: good old lovable beans on toast. And music – The Beatles debut album, Please Please Me. Now, contrary to popular belief, I do listen to groups other than The Beatles. Hundreds of bands and artists feature in my extensive collection, and I certainly do not confine myself to a particular era or genre, but we are talking here about a day of total self-indulgence, and although I 'like' plenty of other bands, I actually love The Beatles. On such a day, it had to be them.

A good cup of coffee and a chocolate bar and your humble columnist was now at the gates of Paradise.

Unexpectedly, there was a knock at the door. It was my dearest old friend (and, yes, I'm going to name him) – Steve Parry. (This will embarrass him, but what the heck!)

Steve and I go back a long way . . . to when we were about eleven, in fact. And it was great to see him on this day of reconnection and pampering of the soul.

He and I went to Belvidere School together, and we went to Tech together. We went to the same dreadful discos together in the seventies, and wore the same appalling fashions – rust-coloured eight-inch flares and shirts with rounded collars and stupid motifs (I remember especially a monocled gentleman in a bright green top hat repeated dozens of times, turning a humble shirt into a ridiculous work of art).

We've been great friends for 45 years and if I can't let him into my day of therapeutic self-indulgence, who can I let in? Anyway, a cup of tea and a long chat with him, and he was on his way.

Then, an hour or so of reading the Neil Gaiman novel I am so enjoying at the moment (Neverwhere), a book of pure escapism, a book that somehow draws upon Dr Who, Star Wars, Monty Python and traditional fairy tales, while maintaining grit, horror, and plenty of humour too, and it was time to go and pick up the girls from the Flower Show.

I've got to say. I feel a lot better now. (Thanks for asking).