Mick - in a word, yes.
Except, I'd need money. A way of making money. I don't know how to brew beer or distil whiskey or grow tobacco or coffee, and I couldn't do without these. And I'd need a generator to power a device for playing music. Also female company. Otherwise, yes.
I'd just walk around Scotland. Spend a month getting to know the Cairngorms, then in Summer head up to Assynt or Fisherfield and spend my days gazing down at cnocs, lochs and valleys, my nights slumbering by the river.
After two months I wouldn't mind being rained on for four days straight. After six it would seem normal. I wouldn't yearn for internet, for HBO drama serials, for football, for politics - imagine a life where politics was a distant memory! When I yearned for company I would spend a couple of nights at an inn, with this money that I mentioned, before taking off again to spend a week walking to Fort William, where I'd buy new shoes. The next day - off West, I'm Knoydart-bound.
Instead of TV, my evening viewing would be the changing sunlight on the slopes of Cairn Toul. Instead of traffic, electrical hum and adverts - the rustle of rush, the howl of wind and the song of lark. Instead of tax rebate or lucky scratchcard, my unexpected surprises would be driftwood for a bothy fire or a summit being above the clouds I'd spent three hours' damp walking in.
My own experience of this is laughably limited, but during a week walking through the highlands earlier this year I got, for the first time, the true meaning of the Bare Necessities. Two of the highlights of a fantastic week were realising there was NOTHING to stop me having a snooze in the sun on the shores of a loch, and finding some wood to burn after crossing a river. Both things made my day, they were free, they were simple, and they meant as much to me as anything experienced in day-to-day life. All I cared about that week were a) getting to where I hoped to sleep (but no big deal if I didn't, I had my tent) and b) would I get rained on. I was so happy.
...Worth mentioning though that the wood turned out to be too damp to burn and I went to sleep with cold feet. You can't have it all.