When I was a kid, my dad would pause on the street outside Rediffusion in Winchester and watch the cricket or the football through the window. (Rediffusion is a long since dead television shop which rented out Video players. It was the Apple store of my teenage years) Sometimes Dad would even watch final score through the window. I would tug at his sleeve and drag him away. I’m sure there were lots of less lucky children who had to drag their parents away from pubs, but in our case, the vice was TV sport. He spent hours and hours watching it, and I never understood the attraction.
Last weekend I walked through Winchester with my daughter. I paused outside a shop, a bookshop, Well’s Bookshop in College Street, desperate to look at the windows, really desperate to go in, but she tugged at my sleeve and dragged me away.
I think it’s my vice, and I suspect that my daughter, will never understand it.