I sometimes wonder how many hours of telly I’ve watched. Four hours a day since I was five adds up to around 70 thousand hours — eight solid years of my life with my arse on the sofa. Still, every one of those hours tells a story.
Earliest memories? A Birds Eye shepherd’s pie balanced on a tray and Pipkins on the box. Hartley Hare, Topov the Monkey, Octavia — all slightly unhinged when you look back. Pipkins even taught me about death, which is quite the public-service achievement for glove puppets.
Back then we had three channels and that was your lot. Programmes started late morning and ended before midnight. The screen went dark with a test card and that eerie tone. If you missed a programme, tough — no catch-up, no on-demand, no “I’ll stream it later.” You simply missed it and got on with your life.
Mum ruled the set: Crossroads, Coronation Street, Dallas, Dynasty — and I was the remote. If she wanted the channel changed, I got up and turned the dial. I knew every soap plot whether I wanted to or not. Saturdays were my escape: Dad at the Labour Club, sisters out, Mum ironing. I had the telly to myself — Swap Shop, Tiswas, Grandstand and World of Sport. I’d switch between them depending on who was being daftest. Then Doctor Who — Tom Baker, scarf, curls, the proper one. After that came the Yanks: Dukes of Hazzard, The A-Team, Knight Rider, CHiPs, Nancy Drew, The Hardy Boys. Match of the Day wrapped it up while I tried not to fall asleep before the theme tune ended.
Other highlights as a kid included It’s a Knockout, 3-2-1, The Two Ronnies, Little and Large, The Generation Game — back when Saturday-night TV wasn’t the bland nonsense it is now. My early TV crushes were Sally James, Jenny Hanley and Lynda Carter’s Wonder Woman.
The 80s – VCRs, Channel 4 and the Dawn of Choice
The early 80s were telly heaven: Only Fools, Minder, To the Manor Born, World in Action, Panorama, First Tuesday — proper grown-up stuff I probably shouldn’t have enjoyed. My first news memories are grim ones: the Yorkshire Ripper, the Iranian Embassy siege, the Falklands — and Dennis Nilsen.
The VCR was the big leap forward. Dad got ours from Ray Shooter — a beast of a machine with silver buttons the size of Lego bricks. It arrived in 1981 and instantly made us gods of time. You could tape Panorama while watching Minder. Unheard-of luxury.
Channel 4 arrived in November 1982, all edgy and clever. I planned my evenings with The Sun’s TV guide — the only time I’ve ever used The Sun for anything worthwhile. It’s an awful newspaper, of course, but at twelve I didn’t know better and I did rather enjoy Page 3. Blame puberty, not politics.
Countdown, Brookside, Comic Strip Presents: Five Go Mad in Dorset — all essential viewing. Brookside was brilliant: people who sounded like they actually lived somewhere real, not in studio land.
Teenage years were ruled by Grange Hill and Press Gang, plus Aussie imports like The Sullivans, Young Doctors and Sons & Daughters. The Betamax timer worked overtime while we were out misbehaving. (Betamax was later replaced by the inferior VHS, purely because Dad could get more porn on it.)
By 1988 television was shifting again. Neighbours owned teatime, Emmerdale Farm dropped the “Farm”, The Bill went twice-weekly, and London’s Burning made Sunday nights strangely exciting.
Satellite TV soon followed. Everyone else went for Sky; we went for BSB with that daft square dish. Channels like Galaxy, The Power Station and The Movie Channel sounded futuristic but mostly showed reruns of The Professionals. Within a year Sky swallowed BSB and we were left with a box full of broken promises.
The 90s – Soaps, Satellites and Golden Reruns
Early-90s telly was wall-to-wall soap — E Street, Eldorado, Home and Away, EastEnders. ITV countered with Prime Suspect and Cracker, where Robbie Coltrane turned misery into art.
When UK Gold launched in 1992 it was the greatest invention since toast: Minder, The Sweeney, The A-Team, Top of the Pops — nostalgia on tap. I could watch 70s telly again without digging through mouldy VHS tapes.
Despite fifty-odd channels, the BBC still ruled. Our Friends in the North (1996) remains the benchmark — proper acting, proper grit, no influencer cameos. When people say “They don’t make them like that anymore,” they’re right. They don’t.
The 2000s – Reality, Broadband and the Box-Set Boom
The new millennium sent TV completely mad. Dream Team on Sky turned football into a soap opera. Big Brother arrived and, for a few years, everyone watched the same nonsense at the same time — until it descended into a circus of shouting and fame-hungry idiots.
Broadband changed everything again. Suddenly you could download a series instead of waiting six months for Channel 4 to catch up. Piracy? Let’s just say the hard drive was rarely empty. Heroes, Prison Break, Dexter, Desperate Housewives, Sons of Anarchy, The Good Wife — American telly hit its stride.
I never finished Breaking Bad — massively overrated. The Walking Dead started brilliantly and then just kept bloody walking. Everyone banged on about Game of Thrones being incredible; we gave up halfway through episode one. And The Sopranos? Couldn’t get into it.
The 2010s and Beyond – Streams, Screens and Too Much Choice
Next came the streaming wars. Netflix, Prime Video, Disney+, Paramount+, Apple TV+ — each promising “exclusive content” and charging another £8.99 for it. The box in the corner became a screen on every wall, every lap, every pocket.
During lockdown the telly became both friend and anaesthetic. Line of Duty rewatches, Taskmaster binges, endless crime docs. Comfort viewing became survival.
Now at 55, I manage my own digital archive — over 1,100 series sitting neatly on a server, all catalogued, all mine. From Pipkins to Succession, it’s a lifetime’s worth of screen time.
And you know what? We really are living through the golden age of television. The writing’s sharper, the budgets are huge, and some series are better than most films I’ve seen in the last decade. The trouble is, you have to wade through hours of glossy, algorithm-approved bollocks to find the good stuff. For every Criminal Minds there are ten shows about people buying houses or shouting at each other in kitchens.
But when you do stumble on something brilliant — Slow Horses, Chernobyl, Unforgotten, the American remake of Shameless — it reminds you why you ever sat down in front of the thing in the first place.
Television’s changed beyond recognition — from three fuzzy channels and a test card to infinite scrolling and algorithmic guilt. But the feeling’s the same: that little buzz when the theme tune kicks in, the room goes quiet, and another story flickers to life inside the box.
In Summary
Television has been a constant companion through every stage of my life. From black-and-white lunchtime memories to streaming vast digital libraries today, each era brought something new. These shows have shaped not just what I watched, but how I remember growing up.
For some, TV is background noise.
For me, it’s biography.
My Top Ten Soaps
These are my favourites — not necessarily the “best,” and certainly not reflective of the views of the reader. Just the ones that stuck with me through the years, for better or worse.
10. EastEnders
When it launched in ’85, it felt raw, noisy, and properly British — all shouting, secrets and smoke. I drifted away for years but got back into it around the 40th anniversary. It’s still capable of the odd classic episode when it remembers what made it good in the first place.
9. Coronation Street
The dependable old warhorse. Funny, northern, and occasionally brilliant. It’s weathered every trend going — still standing while others burned out. I stopped watching over twenty years ago, but there was a time when it was essential viewing, even if Mum forced my hand.
8. Dream Team
Footballers behaving badly before social media ruined the fun. Harchester United was ridiculous, melodramatic and utterly addictive. If you remember Luis Amor Rodriguez, you’re one of us.
7. Crossroads
Terrible sets, dodgy acting, and wobbly walls — yet somehow charming. Mum watched it religiously, and it became part of the household soundtrack. You never forget your first motel.
6. Prisoner: Cell Block H
Brutal, brilliant and budget-free. The walls wobbled, the lighting flickered, and the acting swung from sublime to panto. But Bea Smith, Lizzie and “The Freak” Ferguson made it compulsive. Pure cult gold.
5. Sons & Daughters
An Australian masterclass in drawn-out drama and shoulder pads. Everyone was related, divorced or drunk — sometimes all three. The title music alone deserves an entry here.
4. Dallas
Big hair, big money, big hats. Dallas made greed look glamorous and turned J.R. Ewing into television royalty. If you didn’t watch “Who Shot J.R.?” live, you missed a genuine cultural moment.
3. Dynasty
The more stylish cousin to Dallas, with Joan Collins stealing every scene like it was a diamond necklace. The catfights were theatre; the shoulder pads were armour. Unapologetically daft and glorious — and to be fair, the 21st-century remake wasn’t bad either.
2. Neighbours
Tea-time perfection. Launched half the country’s pop careers and still holds a strange, comforting place in British hearts. If you’re my age, you can probably hum the theme without trying.
1. Brookside
Nothing touched it. Real houses, real accents, and real storylines that made other soaps look like amateur dramatics. It tackled social issues before anyone else dared. Channel 4 at its fearless best.
My Top Ten British Dramas
Again — these are my favourites, not a definitive guide or some critic’s list. Just the ones that stuck with me, made me think, or kept me glued to the screen when I should’ve been doing something else.
10. Grange Hill
The first ten years are up there with any adult drama. Honest, raw and unflinching — it treated kids like people instead of muppets. Zammo, Tucker, Gripper… proper telly education.
9. Life on Mars
A time-travel cop show that somehow worked. Funny, clever and full of heart. Gene Hunt remains one of TV’s great characters — offensive, old-school, and impossible not to enjoy.
8. Doctor Who
From Tom Baker’s scarf to David Tennant’s suit, it’s been a constant in British life. The last few series lost their edge — more lecture than adventure — but when Doctor Who gets it right, it’s magic.
7. Minder
Arthur and Terry. London, dodgy deals, and heart underneath it all. A perfect mix of humour, grit, and character. You could practically smell the cigar smoke through the screen.
6. Line of Duty
For years it had us shouting “Mother of God!” at the telly. Twisting plots, strong performances, and the best interrogations in modern drama. Lost its way slightly near the end, but what a ride.
5. The Bill
Started as a gritty police drama and became a national institution. When it focused on the everyday coppers rather than soap-style storylines, it was unbeatable. Everyone’s dad watched The Bill.
4. Cracker
Robbie Coltrane as Fitz — the chain-smoking, self-destructive psychologist. Dark, intense, and beautifully written. They tried to copy it a dozen times and never came close.
3. Boys from the Blackstuff
Bleak, brilliant and unforgettable. Alan Bleasdale’s writing captured Thatcher’s Britain like nothing else — anger, pride, humour and heartbreak all rolled into one. “Gizza job” became a national slogan for a reason.
2. Auf Wiedersehen, Pet
Lads abroad, friendship, loyalty and plenty of bad decisions. It started as a comedy but turned into something far deeper — funny, moving, and full of heart. Proof that working-class stories matter.
1. Our Friends in the North
Epic in every sense. Spanning decades, politics, relationships and the North itself. The cast went on to conquer everything — Eccleston, Craig, McKee, Strong. The best British drama ever made, bar none.
My Top Ten British Comedies
Once again, these are my favourites — not necessarily the cleverest, trendiest or most politically correct — just the ones that still make me laugh, even after all these years.
10. Goodnight Sweetheart
Time travel, romance and wartime nostalgia — a bizarre mix that somehow worked. Nicholas Lyndhurst at his best, proving he was more than just Rodney. The ending still gets me.
9. Father Ted
Irish chaos at its finest. Three hopeless priests, one alcoholic housekeeper and a lot of heretical laughter. Silly, surreal and endlessly quotable — “Would you like a cup of tea, Father?”
8. Porridge
Ronnie Barker at the top of his game. Warm, witty and sharper than it ever gets credit for. The chemistry between Fletcher and Godber is television perfection — funny and strangely touching.
7. Phoenix Nights
Peter Kay’s masterpiece. Clubland, karaoke, and northern absurdity rolled into one. It’s not just funny — it’s painfully accurate. You can smell the beer-stained carpets through the screen. It’s Felixstowe Labour club in the 70’s and 80’s.
6. Blackadder
Four eras of sarcasm, cynicism and creative death scenes. From Edmund’s scheming in Elizabethan England to that unforgettable WWI finale — it proved British humour could be clever and cutting at the same time.
5. Fawlty Towers
Twelve episodes of pure chaos. Basil, Sybil, Manuel and Polly — that’s all you need. Still quoted, still brilliant, still proof that less is more when every line lands perfectly.
4. The Royle Family
Nothing happened, and that was the point. It nailed working-class Britain better than most dramas ever managed. We all know a Jim, a Barbara, and a Dave. Comfort TV at its best.
3. Gavin and Stacey
Heartfelt, funny and painfully relatable. The cast was spot on, the writing tight, and it somehow managed to be both modern and nostalgic. The Christmas specials remain essential viewing.
2. Only Fools and Horses
A national treasure, no question — but slightly overplayed. GOLD repeats and those three comeback episodes dulled the magic a bit. Still, at its peak it was unbeatable — heart, humour and humanity.
1. The Office
Awkward brilliance. Gervais and Merchant bottled a very specific kind of British discomfort — and it hasn’t aged a day. Cringe, truth, tragedy and genius in one beige package. “No, you’ve lost the room, mate.”
My Top Ten American Shows
Memory’s playing up a bit, so this list might change next week — but as it stands, these are my favourites. They’re not the critics’ choices, just the ones I actually watched, enjoyed, and occasionally shouted at.
10. The Big Bang Theory
Started clever, stayed funny, and somehow made geek culture mainstream. Went on a bit too long, but still a proper comfort watch when you’ve had enough of reality.
9. The Goldbergs
Pure nostalgia and chaos. A family show that actually feels like a family — loud, loving and permanently on the edge of disaster. Bonus points for endless 80s references.
8. Desperate Housewives
Gossip, glamour, murder and absurdity in suburbia. It started like satire, became soap, and somehow pulled both off. Sunday-night escapism at its finest.
7. The Chicago Series (Fire, P.D., Med)
Formulaic? Absolutely. Addictive? Completely. Big rescues, dramatic speeches, and a revolving door of love interests — what more do you need after a long day?
6. Grey’s Anatomy
Technically, this one’s Katie’s show, but after 21-plus years I’ve dipped in and out enough to know half the cast by heart. Overblown, emotional and often ridiculous — yet somehow impossible to turn off and a mighty fine soundtrack.
5. The Affair
Moody, intelligent and brilliantly acted. A show about relationships that actually understood how complicated people are. Went off the rails later, but the first couple of seasons were gold.
4. Sons of Anarchy
Loud, loyal and lawless. Shakespeare on Harleys. It burned hot, got messy, and ended in spectacular tragedy. For a while, nothing else came close.
3. Dexter
One of the greats — apart from that dreadful original ending and the unnecessary comebacks. When it worked, it was dark, clever and completely addictive.
2. Shameless (US)
A rare remake that got it right. Messy, funny, emotional and full of heart. William H. Macy’s Frank Gallagher is pure television gold — horrible, hilarious and somehow sympathetic.
1. Criminal Minds
The one I keep coming back to. Intelligent, creepy and brilliantly cast. The character work’s as strong as the cases, and even after hundreds of episodes it still hooks you in. Proof that procedural doesn’t have to mean predictable.