My grandfather was a huge fan of Bonanza. I’d want to watch Dr Who or Starsky and Hutch or Wild Girls of the Valley and he’d want to relax into his armchair, puff on his pipe, guzzle from his Double Dragon, and be glued to Hoss and the lads.
It drove our house bonkers. Because my mum also wanted to watch Dallas or Coronation Street or The Little Housewife That Could.
My dad wanted to see Science and watch a colonoscopy.
My aunt wanted to see The Wombles and the Sacred Life of Spinsters.
My grandmother This is Your Life and Voices From the Grave.
And the numerous vagabonds and tramps that had wandered in off the street were upset about missing To The Manor Born.
To this day I can’t watch a rerun of Bonanza without becoming selfish, mean, and uncaring.