There is one problem with living until you are 125. Who wants to be married for a hundred years?

Suddenly, everybody’s interested in old people, as if we’re an alien life form. Perhaps because there are loads more of us, hanging on for longer.

What do we do all the time? What do we think? Can we hear? Can we see? Speak? Eat? Do we have sex and normal bodily functions?

When marriage was first invented, death tended to part people fairly quickly. One barely had time to get browned off. Now we have more time to get fed up, and we won’t put up with as much. We are a tougher, more hedonistic and ruthless lot. We are the new ‘me generation’.

Men are precious creatures who needed pampering. The need sex on demand, unconditional admiration and forgiveness, fascination with male hobbies etc. They are terrified of their looming pension age. Sixty is the new 18.