Double yellows, silver linings
For the past decade only one thing has cut through the doom and gloom of postChristmas blues at Taylor Towers.
Even in the good years, we have increasingly relied on a certain Jamaican ska tune to provide sunshine and warmth to ward off the cold, depressing darkness of life on the edge of town.
Now we have lurched into Lockdown Mk 3, I think we can assume, this is not one of the good New Years, and so pressure has really ramped up on our small screen salvation.
We had already decided this was not the year for a Dry January (‘Officially banned; – Old Butchers Wine shop), or for Viva Veganaury! (‘No way’ – both daughters).
And, as for boring old New Year resolutions of Look Good, Feel Good diets, well, forget it… my wife is already talking about baking another Christmas cake to keep us going!
We’ve also left our lights up outside – and the big tree in the lounge – to add some sparkle to distract us from the daily diet of record COVID-related deaths, positive cases, Brexit, Trump, bills and the taxman. Despite this, for some reason, I’m still branded a grumpy old Victor Meldrew for saying: “How can some people go to Barnard Castle to get their eyes tested, but you can’t even cross Maidenhead Bridge to go to Tesco in Taplow without the police stopping you?”
Meanwhile, Twitter conspiracies; the madness that is The Masked Singer; threats to our weekly bin collections and why, oh why, have the council painted double yellow lines in a layby outside
Exlers Garage in Furze Platt, have all increased my downward spiral.
There is the odd silver lining – with several of our sprightly, senior neighbours getting the vaccination at the Town Hall this week – but, it’s fair to say, a lot was riding on the happiness Richter scale as the opening bars of the Death In Paradise TV theme tune blasted out last Thursday.
We started to bounce in our seats, don’t ask, it’s a family tradition, as we luxuriated in the turquoise Caribbean sea and longed to be on those sandy beaches until we realised: It’s different, they’ve changed it!
Apparently, it’s to do with the 10th anniversary series and legendary reggae rhythm section musicians, Sly and Robbie, getting involved in a Zoom re-recording.
But still, it wasn’t the same!
Also, we’re not sure yet about Ralf Little taking over as the latest bumbling British detective and the first plotline was weak… but that could be down to my old TV-insider production knowledge.
But fear not, there is good news at the end of this column to provide a ray of light in these terrible times: The show’s creator Robert Thorogood has published a new book – The Marlow Murder Club.
Set just down the River Thames – where Robert actually lives – our new supersleuth is a 77-year-old heroine who likes a wee dram and setting crossword puzzles.
Her all-lady detective team comprises of a salt-of-the earth dog walker and the prim and proper wife of the local vicar.
I can’t wait to read it and, I’m told, the TV-rights have already been sold. Although whether aerial shots of Higginson Park will compare to the island of Saint Marie.. we will have to wait and see!