off you jolly well go....!
I was feeling a bit poorly on Saturday and as a result was confined to barracks for the evening, forcing me to rely on Saturday night television for entertainment.
It was very dire....
I always thought that in the beginning, when God created telelvision, he saidst "and Lo, thou shalt put your bestest programmes on air on Saturday nights becauseth the people are enjoying the weekend and wish the finest in entertainment to be brought to their abodes...!"
This is no longer the case...
It's hard to imagine that where once we had "Dr Findlay's Casebook" and "The Rolf Harris Show" on BBC on the SAME night..., we now have things like "Casualty" (Here's two characters who are currently experiencing conflict in their relationship! See how they manage to resolve their difficulties and start afresh after one of them has both legs blown off in a freak camping accident. Repeat x 25 for the rest of the series.) and "X-Factor".
I just saw the end bit of X-Factor.
I saw Lionel Ritchie perform.
The skin on his face was stretched tighter than a timpani drum. and I winced every time he opened his mouth, worrying that he would generate too much tension on his face causing it to fly off and land on Simon Cowell's lap....
(although that would have made good television)
Anyway, it was now the end...and the tension was cranked up as the blonde lady came forth to announce the results.
Even though I hadn't seen any of the performers actually perform, I found the flashing lights and music had got me excitedly waiting to hear the results.
But then I found out that out of 12 performers ONLY 11 would qualify to the next stage..! WHAT???
As each successful act greeted the news as though they had just won a National Lottery triple rollover, I came close to putting my foot through the TV screen.
The last 2 had a sing-off thing...and out went "The Unconventionals"...a group of older individuals who proceeded to murder "Dancing In The Streets".
I don't think I ever want to hear that song again as I will be thinking of their version.
They were obviously too hyped up and adrenaline-fuelled, and decided to give a BIG performance.
However, it was just (out of tune) shouting...
This cast my mind back to Joh Eglin's wedding in London, when myself and other Scottish males decided to give the reception audience a rendition of the classic song "Wild Mountain Thyme".
The problem was that with the alcohol and adrenaline, what should have been a gentle, haunting melodic song turned into about 12 Scottish men shouting at the top of their voices, more fitting to a rendition of "Roll Out The Barrel".
Greg Mitchell and Mark Dance probably did the most convincing impersonations of Industrial Foghorns...
But hey, the audience still enjoyed it....
I don't wish to appear critical.
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