I watched Lovejoy with my mum. That's where it starts, really — the lounge, Mum commenting on how dishy Ian McShane was, Dad pointing out that he was a short arse.
Over the (many) years I've kept coming back . Lovejoy served as my work avatar for an impressive stretch of time, until HR (rebranded People Team nowadays I think) gently enforced something a bit more recognisable. I've ended up in Chislehurst, whose only meaningful link to the world of antiques is that Catherine Southon from Bargain Hunt runs an auction house here. Lovejoy, Tinker et al would approve.
Modern tech has eroded my attention span to approximately that of a drunk squirrel, so the plan — review every episode, weekly, for the next eighteen months or so — is part enjoyment, part discipline test. Let's see how much I end up cheating with AI.
Drop me a line at mat@broughty.com.
— Mat