Showing posts with label radio. Show all posts
Showing posts with label radio. Show all posts

Friday, 13 April 2012

Programme warnings


Programme warnings

I suppose we’re all accustomed to warnings before programmes are broadcast – ‘contains language that some listeners might find offensive,’ ‘includes flash photography,’ ‘some viewers may find the content of this programme upsetting,’ and so forth.

The other day I came across a different warning – ‘This programme contains scenes of surgery and strong language.’ SURGERY??

My husband was glad of the warning – he’s rather squeamish – but there was very little to be concerned about. There’s much worse in Silent Witness and CSI!

Sunday, 29 November 2009

Something to make you smile . . .

Before the advent and popular acquisition of radio, and later, television people used to go to the theatres for light entertainment and the Music Hall was a popular venue. Here comedians, singers, variety acts of many persuasions performed for their audiences. Oftentimes a monologue would be declaimed by comics like Max Wall and Tommy Handley. The following is an example that we might do well to follow! You can see more monologues here.


I'M FINE, THANK YOU
(Anon)

There is nothing the matter with me.
I'm as healthy as I can be.
I have arthritis in both my knees
And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze.

My pulse is weak, and my blood is thin
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.
Arch supports I have for my feet
Or I wouldn't be able to be on the street.

Sleep is denied me night after night,
But every morning I find I'm all right.
My memory is failing, my head's in a spin
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

The moral is this, as my tale I unfold,
That for you and me who are growing old,
It's better to say "I'm fine" with a grin
Than to let folks know the shape we are in.

How do I know that my youth is all spent?
Well, my "get up and go" just got up and went.
But I really don't mind when I think with a grin
Of all the grand places my "get up" has been.

Old age is golden, I've heard it said;
But sometimes I wonder as I get into bed
With my ears in the drawer my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the table until I wake up.

Ere sleep overtakes me, I say to myself,
"Is there anything else I could lay on the shelf?"
When I was young my slippers were red,
I could kick my heels over my head

When I was older my slippers were blue,
But I still could dance the whole night through.
Now I am old, my slippers are black,
I walk to the store and puff my way back.

I get up each morning and dust off my wits
And pick up the paper and read the obits.
If my name is still missing, I know I'm not dead
So I fix me some breakfast and go back to bed.