Neighbours

Every marriage has it's bombshells. Some are nuclear ("It appears I'm your sister", "Ah... I've got one of those too", "Murder is such a strong word"); others are mere air pellets. Without becoming to0 personal, Mrs P and myself haven't had too many.

Or at least we hadn't.

The other evening I returned from my work day, everything looking tickety. My tea sitting on the table. Pipe and slippers poised next to my favourite chair. Oh yes, I could get used to having a housewife. The sun was making a rare appearence, so Mrs P had set up for al fresco dining on the balcony (or the roof of the old outdoor toilets as it is otherwise known).

Dabbing my top lip with my freshly starched napkin, I said, as I do every evening at 5:35pm "Let's adjourn to the television room and watch Neighbours".

"But it's nice out here." Came Mrs P's reply.

"But.." I stuttered, "..Neighbours."

"Let's eat our dessert out here."

"But..."

And then it came, the first major bombshell of our 4 and a bit years of marriage:

"I don't even like Neighbours."

Gobsmacked, I reeled. Fortunately my stunned stagger brought me to the sofa where I fell and lay for 25 mins. I never knew. I really never knew. Sure, I didn't expect Mrs P's appreciation of the highest level of Antipodian culture since... ever... to rank with mine, but still... I thought she liked it.

*Sigh*

As the days have past, I have stopped hurting - almost - and have begun a journey of self-reflection. Why do I like Neighbours? What is about a 25 min soap featuring numerous attractive young women that I find so appealing? I just don't know.

Maybe it's Karl Kennedy - my favorite male soap character ever (with Toady second). Who can forget him singing River of Dreams in slo-mo. How can one not admire his mastery of every aspect of medicine, from General Practitioner, to head surgeon, gynacologist and psychotherapist? And how much poorer would the world of comedy be without his farcical storylines worthy of Coward, Ayckbourn or Cleese? Much poorer is the answer.

Or maybe it is the Episode titles. How can someone not love a program that takes Bob Dylan tracks and puns 'em up good? You want examples of great episode names? How about "Tangled Up in Roo"? "Eye of the Steiger"? "For Whom Janelle Tolls"?

Perhaps it's because the show doesn't take itself too seriously. I mean, surely it can't what with some of its recent storylines. Take this little beauty.

Stingray (a young fun-lovin' chap) dies. Sky, his on/off parnter, really misses him. Up turns a charlatan Terrence who says he can channel Stingray. Sky believes him and Terrence begins to push his luck by saying he can allow Stingray control of his body. He starts saying things like "Stingray thinks you should kiss" and then puckering up. (Richard Dawkins should watch this to show how deconstruction of unfounded beleifs is really done). Sky finally cottons on and smacks him around the head with a sugar shaker.

Terrence's partner in crime Charlotte (pretending - really badly - to be a doctor) finds him k.o.'d and finishes him off. She's worried Erinsborough is getting too hot, so announces to a fellow character (dumbass Boyd) she is leaving town. Boyd goes next door to the lawyer's office where Toady says the police are watching the town to see if anyone tries to leave, because that's what they expect. Boyd returns to Charlotte (who overheard). She says "Hmm, actually I don't think I will leave.". "Ok" says Boyd, not suspecting a damn thing.

Genius.

Thus endeth the lesson on why I am right and Neighbours is not that bad. Storylines, Episode Titles and Karl. And girls in bikinis. But mainly the storylines.