The unsung hero

Apr 23, 2017

It occurred to me the other day that one of the loneliest jobs must that of the continuity announcer on TV.

Those poor nameless, faceless people have to sit in a small room somewhere in TV towers and only get to talk when a program is over.

And they get to do is tell you, the slack jawed, crisp munching, beer swilling audience what is on next.

That’s it.

They don’t get to go on celebrity quiz shows or red carpet events.

They don’t have self serving awards shows to get invited to.

They just sit on a chair and talk to an invisible nation about something everybody already knows about.

Where’s the job satisfaction in that?

It must be soul destroying to have to say “Up next, Eastenders” and then, nothing for the next 30 minutes.

Once in a blue moon there may be a malfunction and they will be rudely awakened by a high voltage cattle prod and told to “keep talking” while a looping screen shows a sign saying “we apologise for the technical difficulties…”

In these rare times, the continuity announcer has no other information to hand other than a thinly veiled threat from a cocaine abusing TV executive that they better keep the viewers entertained while Fat Tony fixes the antenna.

That is their time to shine.

The best they can ever do is keep saying “sorry”

It’s not even their fault.

But they never get thanked.

These nameless hero’s of TV fade into the background, only to called upon again to let those too lazy to look at the TV guide that another show about moving house is on in half an hour, but not before we are all forced to watch a show about idiots trying to decide if they want to live in Australia or not waste everybody’s time before making the wrong decision to stay in Loughborough.

The continuity announcers Christmas do’s must be a riot!

Pity those people.

I do.