Final Countdown

Final Countdown

Working shifts has many advantages.

Chief among them is the chance to sit in front of a television at 3.15pm most weekdays.

For the days that I’m unable I have one of those new fangled video thingys. Not being a member of the fairer sex means I’m capable of working the timer. I might as well chuck it in the bin now.

Shift workers and pensioners nationwide are in mourning.

Now he’s popped his clogs.

For 23 years he’s been with us. Only interrupted by the occasional leather on willow battle.

Now he’s kicked the bucket.

The only ‘person’ with more TV appearances was the miserable cow on the Test card.

Now he’s shuffled off this mortal coil.

The witty banter. The cutting edge jokes. Gone.

Now he’s pushing up daisies.

Getting the Conundrum before the specky blokes was better than an orgasm. For half of the viewers it was the only orgasm they’d had in recent history. Working shifts has disadvantages too.

Middle aged Policemen everywhere were jealous of the way he effortlessly flirted with his trusty sidekick. Lucky bugger. We all wanted to be him. Maybe not so much anymore.

He is irreplaceable. An institution. A shining beacon of decency and good-taste among the never ending ‘reality’ shows. The bleep machine was never needed. Saucy words appeared occasionally. These were dealt with professionally. Even the master couldn’t prevent these small lapses. Specky blokes can be quite smutty.

As a mark of respect I discarded my normal black work tie for a natty salmon pink and banana striped silk number. For one day only. I wasn’t alone. A lot of knowing looks were exchanged that day. Words were unnecessary. No-one mentioned the obvious clash with the rest of my uniform. It was understood.

With his body not yet cold, the press are already speculating about who will be taking his place. This is the man who launched a TV station 23 years ago. A man who could make puns out of almost nothing. A man with no hidden agenda. A man who didn’t lust after the ‘celeb’ lifestyle. A man whose fans numbered in their millions. Including Her Majesty and George Clooney. A man with a unique sense of style.

I can almost hear the cogs at work among the businesspersons who run the TV channel. Is Terry Wogan still on strike? Can they afford to lose the revenue from Sanatogen? Where can they place the stair lift adverts now?

Stop it.

Let sleeping jovial hosts lie.

R.I.P. Twice-Nightly

(..Arthur hasn’t left us yet… back soon)