Where have all the good laughs gone?

Nothing on TV seems to make me laugh. Titter ye not, said the late and great Frankie Howerd, and I don't.  Miranda occasionally provokes a titter -- "such fun!" and "bear with," but it's also a little overdone. It tries too hard.

The last times I spluttered with mirth were watching Father Ted, The Office, One Foot in the Grave, Phoenix Nights and the early episodes of The Royle Family.

Monty Python was before my time but I inherited my brother's albums and videos and can recite many of the sketches word for word. Many of the phrases are used endlessly in my family: "Be fair, Pascal;"  "the comfy chair" and "no-one expects the Spanish Inquisition."

I don't want to sound like Disgusted of Tunbridge Wells, but what passes for humour these days courtesy of Judd Apatow and the Coen Brothers, and even Sarah Millican, seems to revolve around bodily functions and bottoms. Funny to male adolescents. Do we really still laugh at it when we're grown ups?

How I long for the wordplay, the bathos, pathos and character development that symbolised some of the truly great comedies: Porridge, Steptoe & Son, Dad's Army, Citizen Smith, Some Mothers Do 'Ave 'Em and Open All Hours. Some of the characters exhibited greed, sloth, meanness, frailty, foolishness, thwarted ambition, lust. But sometimes we felt sympathy for them. Sometimes they made us cry.

Some of the longer running sitcoms today -  I am thinking of the inexorable My Family and My Hero - have that self conscious, shouty "am I on stage?" thing going on, a bit like a farce but supposed to be masquerading as real life.

Most of the "comedians" seen on TV occasionally leave me cold: Lee Child, Jimmy Carr, James Corden, Stephen Fry. And they say women aren't funny! Michael McIntyre, John Bishop and Milton Jones have gentle humour without resorting to bodily functions but they don't make me titter much. Peter Kay used to be wonderful but he's run short of new material over the last few years.

The only ray of light in recent times has been the wonderful Getting On, with Jo Brand. Set in an NHS hospital, it has a gentle humour and doesn't resort to cruelty to get a cheap laugh.

What do you think?  Have I turned into Victor Meldrew?  Or are we currently in a desert when it comes to clever comedy?

Nearly that time of year

Christmas is nearly upon us and I'm indebted to Melissa for reminding me about the crackers, which I still haven't bought yet.

I will be scampering off to Marks & Spencer in the dark of night (well it opens at 6am) to get my crackers, turkey crown and some other oddments, then to Sainsbury's for the rest of the stuff (two selection boxes, the pork pie no-one will eat, and more wrapping paper because I fear we will run out and J hasn't even started on my presents yet).

Christmas in my family was always steeped in loony traditions and I am determined to uphold some of them. Viz a viz:
- on Christmas Eve you have to have sausage rolls and baked beans (J not keen on this one, even if the sausage rolls come from Marks & Spencer);
- on Christmas Eve I have to have a whiskey and milk to help me sleep. This one started when I was a kid - it makes you wonder what else used to go in the dummy, apart from rose hip syrup, and how it is I have any teeth at all now;
- on Christmas Day the presents are handed out by me, and preceded by a few chocolate biscuits from a Cadbury's tin;
- paper hats from the crackers must be worn all day. In the photo above, dating from around 1982, I'm competing with my Granddad for the prize. In the photo below, dating from oooh, a long time ago! - we were all doing very well - hats still on at tea-time;
- festive films should ideally include Scrooge with Alastair Sim;
- someone always turns into Victor Meldrew (someone male, I hasten to add). As it is just J and me on Christmas Day, I suspect it will be him. Probably when I decline his invitation to watch Band of Brothers, Hornblower or Hancock - all the dvds I am giving him, creating a rod for my own back, as my mother would say.

When I was a kid, there were other traditions including pillow cases instead of stockings; an enormous tea just hours after the enormous roast capon, and inevitably featuring: trifle and/or a peach gateau on Christmas Day, with the peaches aquaplaning down the Dream Topping; chicken sandwiches; home-made cream slices and meat patties (making use of the bulk quantities of Jus Rol pastry).

So all that remains is to charge your scooners with sherry and let's have a peaceful, happy Christmas!