It isn't easy, seeing the rolling news wires with tell of Raoul Moat and his commando-ing in and around the hills and forests of Northumbria.
It isn't easy because it brings back memories of my own flight from the law.
There may have been no Sky News, no internet, no iPhone applications, no nothing apart from the late edition of the Evening Press but it was all too real and terrifying for me, and for the people of Dublin.
If you're over 25 you'll remember it, I'm sure. 1992 it was.
What started as a quick bit of shopliftery in the Virgin Megastore turned into the greatest manhunt the State had ever seen.
Sniffer dogs and psychics, Russian experts and CIA agents were brought in. President Robinson kindly handed over the keys to the helicopter. Finger searches fanned out from Liberty Hall for a radius of ten miles. A curfew was put in place and plans for the Millennium clock were iced, due to the funds being put in place for my capture.
They had the CCTV footage but that was all. My mate Kev, with me when the deed was done, wouldn't breathe a word about my whereabouts. He kept schtum no matter how many electrodes were attached to his pubertine balls because of the pinkie swear we'd made in the cubs, in the church hall, that time.
I initially evaded capture by tying my belongings to my leg before covering myself with a couple of bin-bags.
I used what bus fare I had to pay a homeless man to cause a distraction as I clambered down into the Liffey and waded through 800 yards of shit smelling awfulness, Andy Dufresne-style. 800 yards of sludge, man muck and detritus to safety by the abandoned tunnel that connects Heuston Station to Connolly.
Disoriented, disgusting and ravenous I took a rest on the tracks as the net closed in. I could run no longer, I had nothing left, I was spent and I was ready for whatever punishment was coming my way. The Special Branch found me, alerted by the outflux of rats from the tunnel - they couldn't take the stench.
I did two years in a youth detention facility and lost all sorts of innocence therein but a part of me feels it was worth it. Given the opportunity, I'd steal that cassette single of 'Set Adrift On Memory Bliss' all over again.