A timely salute to classic TV
AMAZING how a piece of music can wiggle into your ears, reach through your heart then slide down to your soul, before dragging long forgotten memories up to your conscious mind. For instance, I bet that each and every one of us will have something in the memory banks to make us smile when we read the following immortal words. “Who do you think you are kidding, Mr Hitler, if you think we’re on the run?” Sigh. Happy days. Can’t resist humming along with the tune in my head either, if I’m honest. It’s like a warm mug of tea on a winter’s day.
Don’t know about you, but in my case, those words and that melody take me right back to childhood at the family home. On those rare occasions when we all sat down round the telly box in the back room, to have a chortle at the gentle silliness of Dad’s Army. If you are wondering what got me thinking about that, at a time like this, then sit yourself down in a comfortable spot, and I will explain.
It all started one sunny morning, when I suddenly realised I wasn’t feeling very content with the world. Had a think about it and realised that in truth, I hadn’t been feeling very content with anything for quite some time. Which is no doubt true for a lot of us, right now. Even though the sun has been blazing down for what seems like an eternity (thank goodness!) there are still far too many unsettling things out there in the big, bad world, things that are keen to wipe the smile off life. Things that even bucket loads of glorious sunshine can’t wash away.
If all the death, disease and disaster out there wasn’t enough to steal you away from your happy place, there are also lots of changes we have to take on board and deal with along the way. Social distancing, sombre queueing and impending bankruptcy, for instance. Most discombobulating it all is too. Enough to put you off your tea and biscuits in the process. If you are that way inclined. For myself, have to say that I am. Very much inclined towards tea. And biscuits. As regular readers may have realised by now, to my way of thinking, life without tea and biscuits is an horrific thought and one that I am not keen on countenancing. Not even in these desperate days.
There are enough things we are having to do without already. Humour, for instance. Don’t know about you, but I do miss humour. My own sense of humour seems to be missing in action at the minute. Last spotted just after Christmas, around the same time hell was breaking loose in China. Since then it appears to have disappeared from sight, sailing over the horizon never to be seen again, like the proverbial baby and the bathwater. In a boat. With sails. Sigh. But I digress.
Point is, having realised I’ve lost my sense of humour, I decided it was high time I got it back again. Which is where Dad’s Army comes in. Since we used to watch it as a family all those decades ago, I have pretty much lost contact with this show. Knew it was still out there somewhere, being endlessly repeated on distant channels in far away living rooms, mainly because my parents still watched it all the time and talked about it when ever I visited.
However, a couple of weeks back, whilst flicking channels in our very own living room right here at Cullimore cottage, I stumbled across an ancient documentary. One of those gentle affairs, talking to the stars of Dad’s Army, trying to work out what the actors were actually like in real life. Long story short, some of them were pretty similar to the characters they played. Which was enough to make you smile, all by itself. But then, to round off the evening, the documentary was followed by an episode of the show itself. Half an hour of happiness, with a simple plot which revolved around Captain Mainwaring and a mix up with a couple of Rolls-Royces. As you might expect, silliness ensued. The whole thing was delightfully gentle, genteel and gigglesome. Made Mrs Cullimore and I snigger like a pair of buttered racoons. All in all, it was the perfect remedy for today’s woes. A sense of humour sweet spot.
So, if you’re feeling a bit down in the dumps, I can thoroughly recommend a spot of old time telly!
Hope you and yours are safe, well and happy too.
Until next time, all the best, Stan