That's men for you: Couples who swing: why aren't there more of them? After all, swinging is a bit of a male fantasy and since it requires the participation of persons of both genders, it must be a bit of a female fantasy as well.
Here we are living in a very hedonistic society which has long thrown off the shackles of the bishops who used to ban dancing during Lent. We are, as they say, going to hell in a handcart - so how come we don't hear about swinging parties behind every second lace curtain?
I only ask this because the other day I came across an article somewhere which gave the impression - as such articles usually do - that everybody is at it.
The people interviewed for this and similar articles make swinging appear to be a healthy, enjoyable activity for excessively normal people - like hill walking.
But I'm far from convinced it's going on to the extent normally suggested by such reports. Indeed, I suspect there are many more hill walkers than swingers.
The scarcity of swinging has to do, I suspect, with certain hang-ups of the Irish male.
Here is a brief list of them:
First, you have to take all your clothes off in somebody else's house with people like the bank manager and the solicitor looking on.
For the majority of us who have never played rugby, that is simply out of the question.
We're even afraid to take our clothes off beside the swimming pool in Fuengirola, for heaven's sake, hiding instead inside baggy shorts and Celtic T-shirts.
Second, there is the question of drink. If you've had a few pints to build up your courage (leaving the wife do the driving of course) and you arrive at a suburban swinging venue at 11.30 at night, quite frankly you will be more interested in a fag, a fry and a mug of tea than in six hours of gymnastics on the living-room floor.
But you can hardly say to the first siren who approaches you with fire in her eyes: "Do you know what I'd really like you to do for me? I mean really, really like? I'd like you to make me a nice cup of tea."
Third, there is the danger of finding yourself confronted by a naked neighbour for whom you have never been able to experience the teeniest iota of lust but who clearly expects you to do your duty.
What is the etiquette here? Are you allowed to make an excuse and move on or does chivalry require that you oblige, even if you would rather be rolling in a bed of thorns?
Fourth, when you've finished doing, you know, it, with the dentist's wife, what happens next?
You know what you'd like to happen next - you'd like to turn around and go to sleep.
But is that allowed? I doubt it - otherwise the whole orgy would be over in 10 minutes.
Fifth, what are you supposed to say to the person afterwards? "Ah, that was grand now, you know, fair play there Missus?" Or are you supposed to whisper sweet nothings and nuzzle her ear? With her husband hovering?
Sixth, this is the major issue: how do you know you will be able to perform in front of a roomful of people? Do you really want to cower with a diminished ego in front of a crowd of sneering suburbanites who probably own bigger cars than you do?
Do you begin to see the attractions of hill walking?
And I haven't even mentioned the potential for social embarrassment.
Suppose the swingers have gathered at your house for fun and games on a Sunday evening and your parents-in-law appear on your doorstep? They have been out for an afternoon drive and they decide to drop in unexpectedly on Golden Boy and his wife for a nice chat.
How would you get out of that one? How would you explain the fake leopard skin caveman outfit?
Work that out, now, while you're walking the hills.
Padraig O'Morain is a journalist and counsellor accredited by the Irish Association for Counselling and Psychotherapy.