Don’t you just love Strictly Come Dancing? No, me neither. It’s not like I’m not new age. I went to prenatal classes. Once. But this programme is spoiling my weekends.
For an hour and a half every Saturday, the kids and I have to knock about the house, bored, hungry, directionless, while Wife, an avid fan, cheers, weeps and yells “We should dance more” and “Why don’t you read them a story?” intermittently from the front room.
That’s not all. On Sunday, we are subjected to another 45 paint-drying minutes for The Dance Off. Why split it over two nights? It’s not as though they recorded it on two separate nights. All that differs is Tess Daly’s dress. Why the big pretence? And why not just get it out of the way in one hit? So Sundays can be free for . . . The Antiques Roadshow. Heartbeat. Oh dear.
And that’s still not all. It’s on every day in the week too. In
Strictly Come Dancing — It Takes Two, Claudia Winkleman picks forensically through the remains of the weekend’s shows. I love Claudia Winkleman, but it’s still more of the slowest, most tedious series on the planet, a series that starts in September and finishes long after husbands have run out into oncoming traffic, shouting “Enough”.
TimesonLine
