Whimsical Musings of a Loon

I was channel hopping the other night, which sadly doesn't actually involve any hopping, because if it did it might help solve the obesity crisis across the country/globe. Since the birth of digital boxes, ITV, BBC and Channel 4 now seem to have 34985793487 begillion extra channels. But there still never seems to be anything on TV. Other than reality TV, Jeremy Kyle-style chat shows, cookery shows, house/DIY series and er soaps. I remember back in t'day *cue Hovis ad music* when there were only four channels (well, five really we had S4C in Wales), and I used to manage to watch a considerable amount of televisual delights. Admittedly most of that involved Scott & Charlene in Neighbours. And Mrs Mangel. I loved TV. It was the first thing I thought about waking up, and the last thing I thought about going to bed every night (apart from rugby of course). But in my channel hopping daze the other night, I am sure I found on separate channels, on the same time, about five differe...

I struggle to determine my earliest memory. My head is swarmed with cloudy scenes and flashing images, that have no timescale, no sense of coherence or purpose. All things considered, it somehow seems apt. Yet there are several particular scenes that spring to mind when I close my eyes and let my mind drift. My childhood seems a random concoction of 80s bad clothes, wonderful games with my sisters, Lego, Neighbours, my mother’s huge Owl-esque glasses, my Nans, my impersonations of just about anyone, my dad’s random rages over innocuous driving occurrences, and political tensions on television. But if I concentrate really hard, and I mean really hard now, not like in school - when 90% of my brain switched off and dreamt of fame and fortune, 5% thought of impressions I could do of the comically attired teacher parading in front of me in orange pantaloons, while the remaining 5% concentrated on sleeping with my eyes shut – certain memories begin to stand out, they begin to form and play ...