If you’re an executive in the UK and your trade is in poo rather than paper clips, you'll be what they call a home executive. Your profession is even listed as a category on a form when you apply for a visa or want to sign up for a Tesco Clubcard. Your earnings however are nil. Until they can convert into actual currency the number of nappies you've changed, meals you've prepared or your son's fake tattoos you've removed with nail polish remover (true story), you'll work long hours for renumeration that you can't take to the bank. You do however earn gummy smiles, sloppy kisses, clumsier air kisses and monkey-clinging hugs. You're rich beyond measure but sadly you can't buy any clothes from Hobbs, Whistles or Joules. Earnings and rewards aside, if you're a home executive, you’ll most certainly have encountered daytime TV. Whether you’re sweeping and mopping the floor or folding your umpteenth pair of toddler tights or boys briefs, your background ambience will be daytime TV. No question. In my head I like to think I’m a cultured lass who industriously tends to home and hearth against a soundtrack of classical music. Beethoven or Bach perhaps. Truth is, I’m a low-class gossipmonger who loves nothing more than the background blarings of some outrageous news or lifestyle TV show. The filthier the better. The more graphic the better. I do not appear to hold one refined sensibility whatsoever. If I do, I haven't found it yet. I cackle and snort just like those witches in Macbeth. Probably louder.
I’m spoilt for freaky fodder in the UK. Lorraine kicks off in the early morning. It’s a weekday morning lifestyle and entertainment show. She’s a Scottish lady who talks to a whole lot of people about a whole lot of stuff. She’s a salt of the earth type, except I’m rarely able to understand her, so thick is her Scottish brogue. This means I miss a lot. And I have to conjecture a whole lot more. But the newsy bits I can understand entertain me and I’ve found that it helps me to contextualise a little more of the British way of life. As warped and frankly speaking cocked up as it may be. And there’s something about her accent that I really enjoy. It’s nurturing somehow. She alternates her days with another lady presenter. I don’t know her name. She sports a fringe so close to her eyelashes that I can’t look at her. I have to change the channel it irritates me so much. I just want to hack off her fringe. It's all I can think of doing. So I watch Lorraine and half understand her half of the time.
Following Lorraine is The Jeremy Kyle show. I have to admit that I don’t really follow this programme. It’s the UK’s equivalent to Jerry Springer. Except Jeremy Kyle is slicker, younger, better dressed and speaks with a posher accent than his American counterpart. That’s the only difference though. They both profit from the trashy lives of the low-class who’re happy to let it all hang out on national television. Literally and figuratively speaking. The Poms are no less rank than the Yanks when it comes to infidelity, denying parentage, punching each other in the face or exposing a boob. You'd think this would be my cup of Earl Grey tea, but there's something disgusting about how overt it all is. At least feign pretence of some class like the rest of us. Even if there's nothing behind it to back it up.
After Lorraine, at 10:30am there’s This Morning. Another newsy, entertainment programme that's hosted by a blonde bombshell called Holly and her on-show partner Phillip, a silver fox of a guy who as the Poms would say ‘is a bit of alwraait’. They alternate presenting with a real-life married couple Eamon and Ruth who’re prone to marital banter where they mock and criticise each other. Just like real couples. It’s refreshing to watch. Reminds me of my own marriage. In a good way. This Morning dabbles in some serious stuff; serial killers, politics, the weather…and then they throw in a feature that’s a little different. I’ll give you an example: a few weeks ago they interviewed a guy who’s involved in local politics and genuinely believes that he lost his virginity to aliens and is visited by aliens regularly. I kid you not. It was the most entertained I’ve been since the final episode of the latest series of Revenge. I was gripped. Real life lunatic with no qualms about publicly parading his freak-show. I admire that. I'm am worried however that he's even remotely involved in local politics. Scary thought. He should be a sheep-shearer in rural Yorkshire or something. But he's got some serious kahunas to come on national television knowing full well that he's inviting all manner of mockery and skepticism to his person. That takes courage. And even courage from a fruitcake should be acknowledged.
Loose Women is an afternoon show that I thought was something very different to what it actually is. C’mon, don’t deny that your mind went there too? I only catch a glimpse when my kids are running riot in the garden because it’s hosted in the afternoon. But it’s a good laugh. The show in its essence is a panel of women who talk about a host of subjects pertinent to parenting, marriage and current affairs. The one episode particularly caught my attention as they were debating the morality of drugging children for flying. The basic consensus was that it just wasn’t right. I have a different opinion. You know my position on this. I’m all for it. Apparently Britain isn’t.
After Lorraine, at 10:30am there’s This Morning. Another newsy, entertainment programme that's hosted by a blonde bombshell called Holly and her on-show partner Phillip, a silver fox of a guy who as the Poms would say ‘is a bit of alwraait’. They alternate presenting with a real-life married couple Eamon and Ruth who’re prone to marital banter where they mock and criticise each other. Just like real couples. It’s refreshing to watch. Reminds me of my own marriage. In a good way. This Morning dabbles in some serious stuff; serial killers, politics, the weather…and then they throw in a feature that’s a little different. I’ll give you an example: a few weeks ago they interviewed a guy who’s involved in local politics and genuinely believes that he lost his virginity to aliens and is visited by aliens regularly. I kid you not. It was the most entertained I’ve been since the final episode of the latest series of Revenge. I was gripped. Real life lunatic with no qualms about publicly parading his freak-show. I admire that. I'm am worried however that he's even remotely involved in local politics. Scary thought. He should be a sheep-shearer in rural Yorkshire or something. But he's got some serious kahunas to come on national television knowing full well that he's inviting all manner of mockery and skepticism to his person. That takes courage. And even courage from a fruitcake should be acknowledged.
Loose Women is an afternoon show that I thought was something very different to what it actually is. C’mon, don’t deny that your mind went there too? I only catch a glimpse when my kids are running riot in the garden because it’s hosted in the afternoon. But it’s a good laugh. The show in its essence is a panel of women who talk about a host of subjects pertinent to parenting, marriage and current affairs. The one episode particularly caught my attention as they were debating the morality of drugging children for flying. The basic consensus was that it just wasn’t right. I have a different opinion. You know my position on this. I’m all for it. Apparently Britain isn’t.
I am however no longer able to partake in my daytime quotient of trivia. I’ve recently rejoined the ranks of working mums. I’m a little sad. I miss Lorraine and Phil, Eamon and Ruth and the Loose Women. I'm also feeling a little bereft at having lost my home executive title. I've swapped Daytime TV for a desk and subdued overhead lighting. My office is no longer my living room. My colleagues don't lick the floor, whip off their pants and flash their junk around. My lunch remains my lunch. I can eat it all by myself. I don't have to hide in the kitchen with my head in a cupboard and shovel it in within five minutes. I can drink a cup of tea that doesn't have to be heated so many times in the microwave that there's a milk crust around the rim. I've gone from home executive to business executive overnight. Things should be dandy. And they are. I've chosen to go back to work. I've got a great boss and a fantastic group of colleagues. But I still yearn for my feral cretin colleagues at home. They have a way of creeping into your heart. Like moss or mould. But slightly more difficult to clean with bleach. I've tried.
 |
| What Daytime TV has taught me. I took a picture to record the education. |
