The genius of Gogglebox is that it celebrates the ordinary
But Iād love to be on Gogglebox. Its genius is that we can all imagine ourselves up there.
Reality TV presents us with many versions of ourselves but I donāt aspire to those versions. Irelandās Fittest Families seems like a lot of examples of pointlessly taking the hard way to get from A to B, when there was clearly a perfectly good path there.
I imagine the end-bit of X-factor with Simon Cowell wiping away a tear but I canāt in all honesty imagine me singing the song that would take him to that place of ecstasy. (Unless a flat-as-Kildare version of āFolsom Prison Bluesā with my checking my phone for the words to the last verse is exactly where SiCo wants to take the music industry in 2017.) And I donāt want to do Operation Transformation because I donāt have good enough underpants for the weigh-in and Iām not due new ones until February 2018.
But Gogglebox celebrates the ordinary. Thereās too much celebration of ordinary people doing extraordinary things, but ordinary people doing ordinary things is what makes the world go round.
So I propose more of these TV programmes that celebrate the ordinary.
I want a version of Irelandās Homes of the Year to come into our house. I want the three bickering design people to ooh and aah as they arrive. I can write their script for them.
āThe first thing that hits you when you come in the door is the pair of shoes and an ESB bill on the third step of the stairs.ā āYes I agree. We already know weāre dealing with a bit of an auteur here. Itās a classic staple of design theory that nothing gets brought up until it is put on the stairs.ā āOh and I love this Lidl Next Weekās Offers magazine next to the nappy-bin. It shows the ownersā personality.ā Maybe Kevin McLoud from Grand Designs could voice-over my most mundane home improvements.
āAnd you know, when I saw Colm buy the Makita 18V LXT Combi drill, I had my doubts. But now, coming back after a year, I am actually delighted to admit I was wrong. The shelf sits proudly on the wall. A bold statement of manās triumph over gravity. You can see the craftsmanship here: the extra holes Colm drilled before settling on the final location for the shelf, the slight tilt in the level of the shelf itself, his ātwo fingersā to convention. But itās not just about the shelf. Itās whatās on it. This is the real genius of what Colm has achieved here. The audacity of the vision to put a plastic bag of batteries that should have been brought to Spar for recycling a week ago next to three hotel pencils ⦠That is what sets this apart and makes it a truly Shur Itāll Be Grand Design.
And in a nod to Iām A Celebrity, I Must Ask My Agent Why I Agreed To Do This, we could have a programme that shows people facing challenges - but ordinary challenges.
Itās their toughest task yet. Thereās no milk for the tea. Itās raining outside and theyāve left their shoes upstairs. How will our contestants cope? An hour has passed with both Colm and his wife detailing all their previous completed tasks as an excuse not to get off the sofa and go to the shop for the milk. The scores are in. Colm has lost. Itās time TO FACE THE RAIN.
You can leave the money on the stairs.





