Unfortunately, we can't go to the pub with the lockdown but I'm sure we can all associate with this blog title.
It was inspired by my actor friend, Simon Fowler, who does a daily live chat on Facebook. He talks about life and all the toils and tribulations. Also, all the love in the world which he says in his own kind of way.
He talks about mental health and issues especially true to men who have often suffered from the British stiff upper lip.
Simon quoted the comedians Mel Smith and Griff Rhys Jones. When they used to sit across the table and chat about nothing (but at the same time everything).
I used to drink like a fish when I played rugby union for March Bear, based in the Fenland town of March in Cambridgeshire. As I have said about my experiences of playing rugby it is a sport you learn a lot about yourself and others. One thing you can guarantee is that if you play rugby long enough, you will suffer an injury or two. I noticed with the forwards and lot of dislocated shoulders, the odd broken leg, nose, and even jaw.
No wonder people used to like a good drink after the game - it was a pain killer.
I must admit I've never been too much of a drinker at the races because the combination of alcohol and betting isn't a good mix. Not even Del Trotter would have a Creme De La Menthe at Kempton Park. To be fair, people have outlandish stories about gambling before they get stuck into the amber nectar.
We'd go to Yarmouth races and then spend an evening at the Grosvenor casino. You don't need many pints an hour to slip under the table.
In fact, the last time we went, just before lockdown, my cousin, who I won't name, returned from the casino at 6am.
I concluded that he must have been winning at 4am because drink and tiredness must-have set in by stupid o'clock. I figured winning was the motivation to keep alert enough to play a few more hands of three-card poker (a game that really plays itself). I don't know what sort of conversation was going on but it was definitely pub talk. I'm sure there were a bit of swearing and pork pies too.
As the old TV advert used to say: ''It's good to talk.''
It is good that in recent years people have felt more open to express their concerns about mental health because we have all had our moments. Once upon a time, people were stigmatised by saying they were struggling. I'm not saying people are still not tarred with the same brush but I think the UK is more accepting (especially in times of lockdown) that people may be suffering.
And, you know, I'm pretty sure that's why so many men love to go to the pub and talk shit and tell lies.
If anyone is struggling with depression or mental health problems then it is good to talk.
So often in life, all we need is someone to stop for a few minutes to listen.
If I can help, I'm always here.