One day, when I was about thirteen, my friend David Thomas put me onto a film that was about to come out. I got hold of the book and before I read it I said to David, "this isn't going to go anywhere."
That film was Star Wars. I was a bit wrong.
And I loved Star Wars. It didn't have the charm of Doctor Who, it wasn't subtle and the dialogue was crazy, even to a thirteen year old. But sod that. It had spaceships, lightsabers and fantastically good music. I cycled into town to see Empire Strikes Back about fourteen times.
Then, many years later, the prequels came out. They were, by and large, pants. But, when The Phantom Menace arrived I made a rash promise. I swore I wouldn't watch the original three movies again until all the prequels were out and I could see all six films together, in one day.
I have been a bit slack. Ten years after Revenge of the Sith came out I am preparing to put myself (and whichever of my children that can be bothered) through the Star Wars-a-thon. I have been warned that it will be a crushing disappointment and that I could do a lot more with those hours, but there's more to this than meets the eye.
From next week I have to start making some difficult decisions about my mum. I also have to take some serious steps in other areas and it's all going to be rather heavy. So I need a day of silliness and fun. I shall try to post comments from the ongoing day on Twitter at @spingere. Please join me, or at least do something mildly silly.