Television
Bouncing back
Wendy Cope
Flurrying to catch a train to Manches- ter last Friday lunchtime, I was stopped by a British Rail official.
Have you a boarding-card or a reserva- tion?'
`No.'
`Then I'm afraid I can't allow you through.'
`You can't do this!' I exclaimed. 'There's nothing in the timetable about boarding- cards or reservations.'
`We can do whatever we like,' replied the official. 'We can cancel the trains.'
To obtain the necessary document, fur- ious passengers had to queue up at a booth in the middle of Euston station and show their tickets. 'Bloody British Rail,' said one man. 'Pretending to be bloody effi- cient when they're bloody not.' The purpose of the exercise, it seemed, was to prevent overcrowding. There were Plenty of spare seats on the train, probably because half the people who wanted to catch it were still queueing for boarding- cards when it left.
What has this to do with television? Well, it isn't long since I last saw that award-winning sepia commercial, the one With the lazy American voice on the soundtrack and the old man and the boy enjoying a quiet game of chess. This advertisement tries to tell us that travelling by British Rail is a soothing and pleasur- able experience. The money that paid for it came out of the pockets of passengers and taxpayers. At British Rail they can do whatever they like.
Once the journey was over, the weekend got better. After a boozy lunch on Satur- day we had to have television with our coffee and port because our host wanted to see the rugby. Fortunately we switched on Grandstand (BBC 1) a little early and I discovered a wonderful new sport — syn- chronised trampolining. This is a much better idea than synchronised swimming. Pairs of gymnasts soaring, turning somer- saults, twisting and bouncing at exactly the same moment — it seemed quite beautiful, something I could watch for hours. Even if the viewer is sober, it must be impressive.
Back in London, I watched four MPs travelling to Manchester to learn about looking good on television. This had been arranged by the makers of The Media Show (Channel 4, 8 p.m., Sunday). Sitting on the front bench of the Commons set that was used for First Among Equals Os it
real leather?' asked Emma Nicholson), the MPs listened to a talk about looking interesting, sounding interesting, con- sciously offering sound-bites. Clare Short scowled. Someone asked her why. 'I think the most powerful thing of all in politics is sincerity,' she said. She thought that if you were too calculating, you wouldn't make an effective speech. She could be right. I hope she is. All the same, she came over better than they did.
Hoping for a few tips about looking good in the future, I watched Three Score Years and Then?, an Equinox film about ageing (Channel 4, 7 p.m., Sunday). It didn't tell you whether or not expensive face creams make any difference but there was some interesting stuff in it. Elephants can live for up to 80 years. A mouse's lifespan is only a year or two. But scientists reckon that mice pack as much living into their little lives as an elephant manages in decades. Mice breed faster. Their hearts beat faster. In fact, the heart of the average mouse beats as many times during its life as the heart of the average elephant. Fancy that.
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