The Return of I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue

Since the death of Humphrey Lyttleton in April last year, there has been a major question mark over the future of the greatest comedy radio series of all time, I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue. I was delighted to hear today, on the new Radio 4 Blog (itself a welcome addition to the blogosphere), that the series is to return in spite of the sad death of Humph. The rotating presenters will be for the first three recordings Stephen Fry, Rob Brydon and Jack Dee, all ideal choices. Humph will be missed but I can't wait for the new series.

Free Cleaning for the American flag

Unless you have spent some time living in America, you might be surprised by the esteem many Americans feel for their flag. Down our way, many houses have the stars and stripes mounted on a flagpole from the front of their house. Schools have it at their entrance. I had not thought about it before, but these flags always look sparkling clean, and this is why. I was picking up some dry cleaning today and while I was waiting, I read a bold notice pledging as part of the cleaner's pride in their service that they always clean the American flag for free.

Favourite Jonny Cash Song

Over on the Jesus Creed, Scot McKnight asks "What is your favorite song by Johnny Cash?" He goes for "Jackson". My choice might seem a little eccentric, but it is his cover version of the Hank William's classic "I Saw the Light":



This comes from the 1974 episode of Columbo starring Johnny Cash as Tommy Brown (season 3, episode 7, "Swan Song"). I watched this episode when the BBC we re-showing the entirety of Columbo in he late 1980s and it made a massive impression on me, introducing me to Johnny Cash for the first time and developing my love for the Columbo TV series.

Patrick McGoohan (1928-2009)

I was sorry to hear today of the death of Patrick McGoohan. I have followed his career with interest ever since first catching The Prisoner in its 1984 re-run on Channel 4. As children, and for some years afterwards, we used to holiday in Portmeirion where The Prisoner was filmed back in 1966. On several occasions, my brother and I attended the Six of One conventions there. The Prisoner, starring McGoohan, sometimes written and directed by him too, is without question one of the greatest TV series of all time. To an extent its cult success has obscured the McGoohan's many other roles. I used to sneak off to my college room in the mid-80s to catch Channel 4's re-runs of Danger Man, the spy drama that made McGoohan famous in the 1960s, in the role of John Drake. I remember with fondness his several appearances in one of my other favourite TV series of all time, Columbo, most recently in one of the final episodes to have aired, Ashes to Ashes (1998), featuring his daughter Catherine, and which McGoohan directed.

There are already several detailed and interesting obituaries, including The Times, The Guardian (with more in their TV Blog) and The Telegraph. Portmeirion itself mourns his death and the fansites have their tributes, Six of One (with a recent photograph given to the society by the family), which includes a lengthy obituary (PDF) penned by Roger Langley, McGoohan's biographer. See also The Unmutual, which is gathering tributes, and a delightful series of reflections that parallel my memories on Stuff on TV by Cameron McEwan.

Update (22.40): Although he wouldn't remember us, we met Mitch (then Mitchell) Benn at his first and subsequent two or three Prisoner conventions in Portmeirion. We were quiet, passive participants; Mitchell and the "Liverpool group" were brash, loud, ultimately very funny participants. I remember the Liverpool group's parody of "The Two Ronnies" sketch in which Ronnie Barker's speciality is answering the next question. One of the answers in this quiz was "Mitchell bloody-know-it-all Benn" to paroxysms of laughter, and a withering look at the audience from Benn that made you think, "This bloke is pretty funny". Well, I mention these reflections from over twenty years ago because the comedian Mitch Benn looks back on those days of his "hardcore nerdment" on his blog:

So reading of Ol' Paddy McGoo's passing hits home, 'cos it kind of feels like a big chunk of my adolescence has gone with him.

RIP/BCNU...

Doctor Who vs. Star Trek

Fantastic Star Trek and Doctor Who mashup video from Kelvington.com:



(HT: Planet Gallifrey)

Resident Alien's Boxing Day, Back in England

I don't think there is any such thing as Boxing Day in America. Shame. It's a fantastic tradition. Basically, Boxing Day is the same as Christmas day but without the presents. So just as much eating, drinking and enjoying yourself, but no presents to go with it. We had a bit of a lie in (= "sleep in" in American, in the unlikely event that any Americans are reading) and we needed it because once again the jet lag had kicked in big time last night, and I couldn't get to sleep until 4. I spent some of the extra time reading, some of it blogging, and most of rest of it lying awake thinking about the dating of Mark's Gospel and the evening's Doctor Who special.

At midday, my sister, my brother-in-law and I went for a four mile run. It incorporated Hartshorne (see pic.) and Manchester Lane, and I was well and truly knackered by the end of it, and still couldn't keep up with my sister. Still, I made a better show of it than when I last ran with her, and was pleased to have made the effort. When we got back the modern-day re-working of The Railway Children was on the telly on one side, and South Pacific on the other, but I didn't get the chance to watch either and instead helped with the preparation of a fantastic lunch which we ate quite late, more turkey and stuffing, beef (freshly roasted), nut cutlets (freshly made) and jacket potatoes and the like. Fullers London Pride to begin with, then another nice red, and liqueurs to finish (Tia Maria this time for me).

In our family, Boxing Day is the day for the slide show. This year, for the first time, it has gone digital and we have all provided photographs and videos and he has provided the digital projector. It was an excellent show, with bits of America as well as bits of England, Austria, France, Italy, and various members of the family in each place. The North Carolina contingent all looked very brown, I thought, and it was lovely seeing shots of summer and the swimming pool -- brought home just how much I hanker for it until May each year.

We ate pretty late, 8.30, 9ish, I think, and I helped my mum prepare it. We just drank beers or ciders, and watched an evening of telly about Bill Cotton, head of light entertainment at the BBC for years, who died this year. After the documentary, there was an episode of Morecambe and Wise, the Christmas Special of 1971, which featured two of the all-time classic bits, André Previn and the Grieg piano concerto (". . . not necessarily in the right order") and Shirley Bassey and the boot. I don't think I had ever seen them in situ in the actual programme before, and most of the rest of it was pretty ordinary. Next up was an episode of Bruce Forsyth and the Generation Game from 1973, which took me right back to my childhood. It was actually quite funny.

Several of us stayed up late, taking in some more port and channel-surfing. It's an enjoyable treat to be able to channel-surf British TV. And we went to be late deliberately, what with the jet lag still affecting us in strange ways.

And that's it for this year's Christmas day and Boxing day narrative. I won't bore myself with any more of this diary keeping for now, though it's a tradition I am tempted to try again at some future point. In the mean time, I will add my comments on the Doctor Who Christmas special and will then rest the Resident Alien blog for a bit.

Resident Alien's Christmas Day Evening -- back in England

In yesterday's narrative, we had reached the most important part of the day, for me, the Doctor Who Christmas Special, at 6pm on BBC1. This has become something of a Christmas tradition in the UK in recent years. The revival of the series from 2005 onwards was so successful that a Christmas Special was commissioned. The first, back in Christmas 2005, was the best, David Tennant's first outing as the doctor, but the others have all been fine, and this year's was the fourth. Since I do have a nerdy, Doctor Who streak, I may blog my thoughts about this episode separately, but at this point I'll just say that it was an enjoyable hour, the pleasure increased by the fact that my nieces were watching Doctor Who for the first time. My dad, my brother and my brother-in-law all fell asleep, and missed my favourite bit from the episode, but I obliged by narrating it for them afterwards.

Having said yesterday that a British Christmas, or our British Christmas, is all about telly, I am interested to find that in fact this is not really the case any more for us. So far, apart from Gavin and Stacey and Doctor Who, I have been able to take or leave the rest. And there is the far more important business of catching up with family over food and drinks.

We had turkey sandwiches for supper, latish, with another nice red, and about eight different cheeses brought over by my sister and brother-in-law. Several of us stayed up after having cleared to watch a nice documentary about Blackadder, and we then channel-hopped different bits of rubbish until bed.