And we have days called public holidays, on which the public have to work.
Ten years from now, expect the shops to be open on Christmas Day. Any poor shop assistant or delivery driver who complains will be out of a job.
But I was nine years out.
Political prisoner, activist, journalist, hymn-writer, emerging think tanker, aspiring novelist, "tribal elder", parliamentary candidate for North West Durham, Shadow Leader of the Opposition, "Speedboat", "The Cockroach", banned from Twitter so officially more dangerous than the Taliban, eagerly awaiting the second (or possibly third) attempt to murder me.