So now we know that chirpy, cheeky comedian Griff Rhys Jones has been and continues to be a very angry man.
Rather than vent his fury at the causes, he invariably waits until family, friends and colleagues are in earshot and then lets rip on life’s maddening trivialities.
But he didn’t realise the negative impact this has been having on all those unfortunate enough to have to listen to him unloading the toys from his pram in true toddler tantrum style.
Now he does.
He’s contrite, a little.
But he’s still angry.
That was just about the extent of the first installment of Griff’s two-part documentary on anger – Losing It.
We saw some footage of him getting mad in a previous TV series and he didn’t come across well. But conveniently the cameras following him around for Losing It apparently missed his full-on explosion of rage when he pranged his car and let rip at some amused scaffolders – even though there was footage of the moment just before he scraped the paintwork off a couple of doors and straight after he had calmed down and was laughing at his own idiocy.
It would have been useful to have witnessed this minor road rage for ourselves. Pity the cameraman apparently chose that moment to walk the other way.
Instead we were left with a very disappointing exercise in self-indulgence. It wasn’t good television, it wasn’t a useful exploration of why some people explode in such blind fury.
And, yes, it made me feel quite cross.
Worst of all, I’m not sure if it even represented therapy for Rhys Jones himself as he still seems rather annoyed at all those relations, friends and colleagues for keeping quiet about the impact his raging has on their relationship. Can you blame them Griff?
We all have those moments of rage, even the most laidback amongst us need to let rip in some form or another from time to time.
Rachel informs me that when I do get irritated my Welsh accent becomes stronger. If that is the worst that happens, then I think I’m doing OK.
A resigned shrug of the shoulders, weary shake of the head and daydreaming about living a simple existence somewhere remote with Rachel, Flyman and a couple of silly dogs is my own form of anger management.
Heading out on my bike is another way of easing the stresses and strains, although that can also be a source of anger and frustration due to the lack of courtesy and common sense of other road users.
I am quite glad the van driver who saw me, with bike lights blazing and fluorescent yellow jacket in his eyeline, the other morning and still pulled out in front of me causing me to skid to a halt didn’t hear the outburst as he chugged off down the road. The four-letter tirade was enough and feelings of self-righteous indignation (the world is full of arseholes and I’m in the right) were enough to quell the anger I felt as I skidded into the kerb.
You can obviously turn that anger into a positive. Anger is an energy that can be a force for good.
But more often than not it explodes in a negative way and those in the firing line would obviously struggle to find anything remotely good, appealing or worthwhile in the experience.
A bit like watching Losing It last night.
Maybe if we continue to follow the Rhys Jones journey to redemption in week two then the point of the documentary will become clearer. Or, maybe not.
One thing is certain, now that I’ve written this I’ll happily move on to my happy place.