Friday, 11 January 2013

Skylon ham

We're on a tube, heading home from Waterloo, where we've been eating with Jim at the Skylon restaurant on the South Bank. What a lovely evening we've just had. 

I often find myself mourning the disappearance of the actual Skylon, which, for those who don't know, was a weird, space-aged metal tower, which became the centre-piece of the Festival of Britain on the South Bank in the early '50s.

...The Skylon standing tall and proud

The Festival of Britain was a post war "we're finally emerging from the mayhem and bleakness" exercise. All that now remains from the festival is the Royal Festival Hall, which is not a bad legacy. I'm told it was the first post war building to be listed. 

The Skylon itself was demolished when the exhibition closed. Some suggest it ended up being dumped in the Thames. So much for futurism!

We spent the day throwing more things away. I have found a second wig and a Dr Seuss-style red and white stripy hat. I have also found the majority of things that I thought had gone missing; everything, in fact, but the gum guard which prevents me from grinding my teeth in the night. It's probably the thing I need more than anything else. I woke up this morning with my teeth clenched shut, and such terrible tension in my shoulders that I could barely move my arms. Hmm.

As we threw away most of our possessions, day time television droned away in the background. It strikes me that This Morning is nothing but a ridiculous parade of adverts, and stupid packages with D-list celebrities sitting by swimming pools saying, "to enter the competition which could find you sitting by this very pool, all you have to do is call this number. Calls cost just £1.70. More if you call from a mobile." Silly competitions for silly people. 

You could ferment what is actually interesting or educational on the programme into a ten-minute show. Poor Philip and Holly. 

I was shocked by the level of ham being dished out by many of the presenters I watched today. I've never seen such a parade of prannies gurning, pouting and winking patronisingly at the camera. 

I have therefore decided to create a definitive list of the hammiest presenters on television. This list could well grow over the course of the weekend: 

1. Aggy off of "How Clean is your House" 
2. David (the Duke) Dickinson (with his mahogany face and camera asides)
3. Lorne Spicer (the Essex girl who does trashy shows about car boot sales) 
4. Tess Daley who pulls the oddest faces when Brucie makes jokes on Strictly
5. Jane McDonald, who can always be relied on to pull a Les Dawson face following a double entendre. 

I welcome other suggestions to add to the list and will update on a regular basis. Remember, we're looking for hammy presenters and not bad presenters. Being hammy is a proper skill! 

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