I HARDLY watch any new American TV shows these days.
For one thing, my work schedule doesn’t lend itself to an appointment with the tube on a weekday night.
Furthermore, there appears to be a serious lack of quality drama being served up these days from across the pond.
The few excellent shows that have caught my attention in recent years – like Deadwood and Arrested Development – have been cancelled it seems in favour of more vapid, nonsensical shows like Medium or Ghost Whisperer.
I heard great things about House but after watching it once, I just couldn’t ignore Hugh Laurie’s dreadful American accent.
So earlier this year when a new cop show named The Beast hit one of the digital offshoots, offering up nothing new conceptually, it would have been summarily dismissed were it not for the show’s star – one Patrick Swayze.
The hackneyed story centred around an old cop veteran partnered by a hot-headed rookie.
With Swayze absent from my own screen in recent years – I haven’t had time to watch his roles, save for the cameo in cult classic Donnie Darko – I decided to give The Beast a go and was duly impressed.
His robust features had diminished somewhat due to the terrible physical demands of his illness but he had certainly lost none of his on-screen charisma.
And so I was deeply saddened to learn of Patrick’s untimely passing. What an absolute screen legend.
How many of us girls out there know every line from Dirty Dancing, studied the risqué dance moves and sang all the film’s songs?
I drove my family mad as a wee lass belting out the Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes hit song – (I’ve Had) The Time Of My Life.
Another great and under-rated tune from the film’s soundtrack is She’s Like The Wind, which Patrick co-wrote and released as a single.
Easily two of the best cheesy 80s love songs.
Few films in my lifetime made such an impact, and few songs stand the test of time and remain as fresh and powerful 20 years on.
I sincerely hope at least a few people will be singing along to my tunes in a fit of nostalgia in the years to come.
On the very same day, I learned of the sad death of chef Keith Floyd.
The timing was rather spooky I thought, as I – like many, many others no doubt – had just watched a programme celebrating the life of the cantankerous gastronome the night before.
Poor old Keith: I have a real soft spot for him and his tremendous wealth of talent.
He was shuffling round his Avignon pad half cut being interviewed by Lily Allen’s dad, Keith.
We’re all flawed and simple creatures at the end of the day.
We all have our demons, our crosses to bear, our axes to grind and some of us shoulder the load a whole lot more easily than others.
Rest in peace Patrick and Keith!