Daytime tv

Daytime television gold. For moments like this, it is surely even worth being patronised by adverts recognising your invalid debtor status. Yesterday and today, Diagnosis Murder met Matlock in a glorious moment of synergy. It was beautiful to behold. I could only imagine the moment at the Beverly Hills golf club when the two old pros chatted over an exotic salad, and decided to indulge themselves in this way. But thank goodness they did, as it doubtless brightened up the life of more than one sofa squatter.

In fact, I can’t say I’ve ever seen Matlock, but I knew it must have been a significant moment, as Dick van Dyke first addressed the back of the guest star’s head, before he slowly turned to an almost audible drumroll. The scene was Shakespearian in scope, and must have caused many a twinkie to drop from the shocked fingers of a corpulent American TV addict. Fortunately for me, the doorbell went halfway through the first episode, and my friends Tim and Emily arrived, bearing jam tarts. Which I’m sure are nicer than ‘twinkies’, whatever they are.

Emily is nine months and a few days pregnant. Her normal good company was enhanced by the fact that she, too, has spent a good deal of time on the sofa recently. We were able to swap stories about backache caused by being forced to sleep in one position all night. A moment of empathy I can’t say I had ever envisaged. As a student, I had spent many an hour with Tim doing very little during the hours of daylight, but he is clearly less accustomed to advanced loafing now. I don’t think the thought of a Diagnosis Murder/Matlock love-in was in any way going to win him over, though I was proud to hear that he had spent a good deal of his new found time battering on the doors of bureaucracy, so he is clearly learning quickly. Emily’s decision to turn to baking jam tarts is possibly a boredom-avoidance tactic that I shall eschew. One-legged baking is a skill I feel I can probably manage without.

At least I was able to watch today’s second part uninterrupted. Which was a shame. I’m hanging out for the next great daytime tv event though. Perhaps Raymond Burr hurtling out of control as he seeks to flee a white balloon in a Prisoner/Ironside crossover. Or Top Gear meets Traffic Cops.