There seems to have developed among the chattering classes a certain cache about not watching reality TV programmes. The latest to join is Jon Snow, who reads Channel 4 news, who declared with pride recently that he had never seen any of the current batch and wouldn't dream of wasting his time doing so. A bit rich, I thought, for a man who earns his living from the same media. But then again, he did make a fool of himself over the issue of wearing a Remembrance Day poppy on TV so perhaps we shouldn't be too surprised.
Not that I wish to join him in his arrogance but I do have feelings similar to his about The X Factor and I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here - which are a waste of time. Strictly Come Dancing, on the other hand, is required viewing in our house. My wife loves the dresses and I'm quite attracted to what's inside them - well some of them. And there can be no doubt that the contestants work hard over many weeks to improve their technique.
In passing I should make clear that I think the Anne Widdecombe joke is over and that its time she went. Even her long suffering partner, Anton du Beke seems to be becoming impatient with her. I'm quite surprised his back hasn't given out already. Other than that (and Bruce Forsyths bad jokes) I think it is good Saturday night viewing.
And I'm reminded of a story I once heard about one of Britains premier agriculturalists and team leaders. He was one of the best educated and sophisticated people I ever met. But every Monday morning he would gather his team around him for the weeks briefing and would often check if they knew what song had been named Top of the Pops that weekend. He wanted his team to have as wide a base of interests as possible and be able to converse with those they met day to day at all levels. It was a lesson I have never forgotten.
And with snow and frost covering the land and temperatures below freezing I am content to be a couch potato in front of a roaring log fire during these miserable November evenings.