The Man Who Knows Everything has a plan for passing the time.
His big plan is for a National Hamping Day, which doesn't necessarily have to involve sex, but more about that later on.
We will let The Man Who Knows Everything (TMWKE) tell you most of the rest of the story, seeing as it's his plan.
Please note his views are not necessarily mine. I'm only the messenger.
He spends a lot of time home alone. Here's why.
TMWKE says that even though he is sometimes wrong, he still knows everything.
His ex-wife, he says, maintained she was always right and he used to call her The Woman Who Was Never Wrong.
It was inevitable then that they would split up. How could a man who knows everything and a woman who was never wrong live under the same roof?
All TMWKE had to do was to say "Yes, dear". but he had to argue with The Woman Who Was Never Wrongevery time. He used to call her The Pope for short. They were divorced after 37 years of marriage on grounds of incompatibility and infallibility.
There were a number of consequences, one of which was that TMWKE now lives alone and so has vast experience at passing the time.
TMWKE is now a one-man think tank.
Those of you in isolation may find his tips helpful.
He has a tickly cough at the moment and so he went in to self- quarantine. He'd be good like that, would TMWKE.
"I have loads of practice of isolation," he said. "Ever since the wife left, I have no one to argue with. No one ever calls and when I try to explain to people in your pub how to live a successful life, they just walk away.
"It's because they cannot bear to meet a man who knows more than them. Jealousy is a terrible scourge.
"My plan to talk to people with your back turned to them, and you looking into a compact mirror, will save lives."
TMWKE has cost me thousands over the years. There is no garda who can clear a pub quicker. But I will not bar him.
How can you kick a man out for knowing everything? Is it legal?
I have two plans though. The new plan during the crisis is to stay well back. The Taoiseach called it social distancing.
The pub is bound to be quiet and there is a real possibility I will be left on my very own with TMWKE. There will be no escape from him. I will be a prisoner in my own pub. One day he kept me in so long talking about the reunification of Russia, I pretended I was about to faint. He made me breathe into a brown paper bag and count backwards from 1,000. I haven't been the same since.
The first plan is to tell him he has to go to the far end of the pub in case we give each other the virus.
But TMWKE will probably roar at me and that will be even worse.
The second plan is to tell him I haven't been feeling the best since I came back from Wuhan.
Here's one of his ideas for passing the time.
He told me people who live alone have to get used to debating with themselves.
"I was debating whether Leo should have gone to America to see Donald Trump for St Patrick's Day. One part of me said it was very bad because hotels are dear in Washington and so are the flights. The other part of me said so few countries get quality time with the president of the United States, it would be a fright to lose it. And didn't Leo make sure the American flights in and out of Ireland are still open even though the rest of Europe is shut down?"
He was arguing alone all night long. "In the end," said TMWKE, "I walked out on myself in a temper and banged the door after me."
I suppose it would be cruel to bar TMWKE. But for us publicans and our staff, the hospitals and the counselling services would be under even more pressure.
There's a cure in having a few drinks in moderation. That's why it's so tough on the vulnerable ones who can't come out for a drink for fear of picking up the virus. We love minding people in Ireland. Some of my regulars will have to stay at home and they are outgoing people. I'm back praying again to Holy Mary. I have great time for that woman.
TMWKE is all for calling National Hamping Day.
"What is it anyway?" I ask. Sometimes I don't know when to keep my big mouth shut. TMWKE went on for most of an hour. I self-medicate by pulling myself a pint. (By the way, I haven't been to Wuhan.)
I will summarise TMWKE's 60 minutes in full from now until the end of the column. Here he is.
"I used to love camping when I was a young lad. My dad used to bring me. He was the only man who I ever met who was as smart as I was."
You can't bate breeding. Back to TMWKE.
"The Pope and myself used to love camping too when we got married first. We were madly in love but then one day she wanted to pitch the tent on a slope but I objected because the blood would flow from the head to the toes and could cause a stroke."
TMWKE and The Pope couldn't agree on the bivouac site and they never went camping again.
"So now I go hamping."
TMWKE anticipated my next question. "Hamping is when you go camping at home.
"Like glamping. I push the handle of a sweeping brush up into the duvet and the tent is ready in seconds. I bring in a bottle of orange and a bag of crisps for a bit of a picnic and I read my book with my flash lamp."
"But what will happen," asks I, "if two or three go hamping together? What about social distancing?"
TMWKE looked sad when he said: "Sure, I have no one to be socially distanced from."