At 5:30 p.m. on November 2nd 1988 a firework exploded loudly outside my window.
I thought back to my own teenage escapades with fireworks and decided that if I were an MP I would try to pass legislation to proscribe the sales of fireworks to anyone under the age of eighteen. (Today I would lower the age limit to sixteen.)
I do not see why explosives should be sold over the counter, and certainly not to youths.
Were I consequently to be accused of being a killjoy for this measure then I decided that I would respond "Better killjoy than kill children!"
Later that evening I was awaiting the start of a TV programme and therefore found myself watching the first few minutes of another one.
It was the first of a three part Dr Who episode.
The Dr and his assistant land his craft, the Tardis, on an earth colony a few centuries in the future.
They get arrested by some officials (members of The Happiness Patrol, I think) on suspicion of being "Killjoys."
Earlier a woman was shot for the crime of "being a Killjoy" and her killer was applauded by his superior for having killed forty-five Killjoys.