Here I am, standing before my wardrobe in the dark, like the old Jew standing before the Ark, lost in a kind of prayer, my suitcase thrown open on the bed behind me. I'm packing for a tour to sell my book Israel Is Real: An Obsessive Quest to Understand the Jewish Nation and Its History,  which, being a Gonzo take on the most fraught, controversial, fight-generating topic in the business, has earned much praise and much ire, specifically from think-tank neocons, Israel pros, would-be know-it-alls and pseudo-experts of every sort. I do not, in short, attract the sort of happy-go-lucky crowd that turns out for Sophie Kinsella's Shopaholic series, nor even the slightly edgier fans who queue for Toby Young. The members of my audience are as keyed up as linebackers; excited, enthusiastic, too enthusiastic, supportive, pissed off, varied and voluble.

So what do I wear? The jumpsuit and fatigues? Too creepy. The motorcycle jacket and riding gear? Too aggressive. Bermuda shorts? Too festive. Members Only jacket? Too 1980s. I need clothes that can be strapped on like armour, that will both hide and display, and protect me from the slings and arrows.

Ideally, this would be a tear-away coat and pants, like the jerseys Earl Campbell wore when he played running back for the Houston Oilers, once among the most ferocious teams in the National Football League. Leaving a shredded jersey in the hands of a stunned defender, Campbell would scamper into the end zone as free as a blue and white bird — until the league made it illegal. (I was told these jerseys, designed specifically for Campbell, were made of a very thick paper, thus entirely bio-degradable.) That way, at the close of an event, when certain members of the crowd, irate at the way I've described Israel or the Zionist dream, stand before the door blocking my exit and eager to tell me how the world “really works”, I could lower my head and blast through, gambolling to subway or town car, shouting: “Keep the torn coat and keep the ruined pants, for look, they already turn to rags in your hands!”