I HATE to admit it, but the time may be fast approaching when I have to snap open a nice crisp napkin, and spread it onto my lap in order to gather any crumbs of humble pie that may drop there.
Almost 15 months ago, the Cherubic Commandant and I made the decision to part company with the satellite TV provider. We'd got fed up with the dearth of decent programmes to watch, and the nights when we'd get dinner quickly over with in order to watch a good film were becoming increasingly rare. Having got satellite TV out of the way, the little side bonus was that we reduced the monthly bills coming into Scoop Hall by a handy £40. That's £480 a year - think about it - which would go a long way towards my annual subs! Well, it would if I'd actually put it to one side!
Anyway, at the time we felt it was £40 wasted; most of the channels we never watched anyway, the others showed either sitcoms we didn't watch 20 years ago or repeats of Cross-Dale-Street-Enders-Side or something equally as mundane and unwatched.
So that was us, liberated from the crass, only to hop on to the terrestrial telly-go-round of property renovations, gardening, cooking and holidays from hell. Personally, the only satellite programmes I'd be likely to miss were of the sports variety. Yet, conversely, the prospect of less sport on our TV didn't exactly displease the CC - not least because I'd got into the habit of traipsing in after playing golf then putting my feet up for the rest of the afternoon. At least with the sports channels out of the way she'd have a fighting chance of getting me to do something around the house. (A very slim chance actually, but it was a nice idea!)
And what, you ask, is the reason for my change of mind? Why would a chap who's spent the last year or so shunning TV sport suddenly change his mind? Well, it was those couple of months away that did the trick.
Hotel living meant being out every night, which, in turn, meant that I hardly watched the goggle-box at all. And when I came home to once again share the nights in with the CC, what was there to watch? I'll tell you: Celebrity Love Island, Celebrity Cooking, Celebrity Makeover, Celebrity Big Brother, Celebrity Fat Club, Celebrity Wrestling, Celebrities Who Can't Sing But Insist On Doing So For 'Charidee', I'm a Celebrity, Get Me a Career and on, and on it goes, unfortunately. And I'm not even going to mention those so-called Reality TV programmes.
I know what you're going to say, 'nobody forces you to watch it, you know where the off button is.' Well, the bottom line is that we never, ever watch it. I actually do vote with my zapping finger. When there's so little quality television to watch, I'm more than ready to admit that the hunger pains for almost any programme with golf included in it are almost giving me a stitch, and that although my reasons for dispensing with satellite last year were quite valid, the time for a re-think is long overdue.
In Scoop Hall, we have perfected the art of 'zapping' of that distinctive drumbeat opening bar of one particular soap, reducing it to little more than a semibreve in length. Similarly, the clarion call that repeatedly fails to stir a ginger tom from its afternoon nap on an outhouse roof, receives the same short, sharp, dextrous treatment.
As for all those other soaps, ignorance is bliss. I think perhaps that that is where they get all those 'contestants' for the so - called celebrity programmes. Either there or from the tabloids. From a purely personal viewpoint, it's possibly a form of one-upmanship to not have the remotest clue who that person might be or for what he or she has gained notoriety and / or fame!
Equally, it's one-downmanship to admit not seeing how so and so won last weekend's big event. All I have to do is convince the CC that it would be money well spent. It worked last time!