Turn on, tune in, drop out

Don’t knock daytime TV, says Lloyd Evans. It may be mindless and banal, but it is entertainment in its purest form

It’s happening right now. I just had a flick-through and it’s all going on. You wouldn’t believe it. A Labrador called Pongo has been squashed by a tractor and is having his broken paw fixed at the vet. A grandmother from Dartford is trying to raise funds for her daughter-in-law’s wedding by auctioning a trunkload of heirlooms. And Mandy and Oona (in the blue), are hoping to make a bigger profit at the car-boot sale than Vaughan and Sanjay (in the red). It’s gripping stuff, take my word for it. If you work in an office, the world of daytime TV may not have crossed your consciousness, but if your sitting room is also your workplace, as mine is, then the little grey square in the corner is a constant temptation. It shouldn’t be like this, but it is.

When I take a break to get my mid-morning news-hit from Sky I invariably find myself glancing curiously towards the low-attention channels and their treasure-house of fake rivalries and invented challenges. Once I start watching something during the day I have to force myself to stop. Literally, I have to deliver an ultimatum. ‘Switch off after five minutes.’ But why? With evening TV it’s the other way round. I invariably find myself reluctantly deciding to ‘stick with’ some earnest documentary about separating conjoined twins or teaching orangutans to use sign language or traversing Panama with a coracle to prove that the Irish discovered Hawaii. The difference is that the evening is officially assigned to relaxation so watching TV, being permissible, seems less attractive. During the day, however, I’m supposed to be working so the telly is invested with the delicious aroma of transgression.