TV Comment with Pat Howley – Nul points for Jonathan

EVER since the Andrew Sachs affair I've taken a particular dislike to the British television and radio presenter Jonathan Ross and, despite his chat shows being hugely popular on the BBC and, in the last year or two on ITV, I never again warmed to him. In a perverse way, that's why I was looking forward to last Friday night's Late Late on RTE I from whenever I noticed his name on Tubridy's guest list. It was Jonathan's first time visiting us in our backyard, so I thought I'd give him the once-over and see if I might be more impressed by him over here as opposed to zapping by him with prejudice whenever I'd catch a glimpse of him on the English channels. But Ross came, Pat saw, Ross didn't conquer. All of us have fond memories of Andrew Sachs for his wonderful portrayals of Manuel in Fawlty Towers but three or four, or maybe more, years ago, Jonathan Ross was making a guest appearance on the BBC's The Russell Brand Show â€â€ another guy I don't like even though he also is hugely successful on film and television â€â€ and as part of the 'fun' Ross and Brand made phone calls to Andrew Sachs and, when there was no answer, left seriously offensive messages on his answering service. The Brand show was being pre-recorded and what really amazed me at the time was that it aired a few days later complete with the offensive phone calls, and complaints flooded into the Beeb. In the subsequent furore, Brand quit whatever contract he had with the BBC and disciplinary action in the form of a few months' suspension without pay was taken against Ross. Sachs is now quite an elderly man and I was so appalled by the affair at the time that I said to myself â€â€ the only guy that will listen to me â€â€ that I'd never watch Ross on television again. But on Friday night I did watch him chat with Tubridy and I suppose it was the devil made me do it. Introduced by Tubridy as one of Britain's best-known television personalities, he breezed in full of welcome for himself and to a big welcome from the studio audience. What followed was up to ten minutes of light banter and it was all a thing of nothing. Later it became clear why he was in Dublin when mention was made of his new comic book and of the venue at which he would be signing copies in the morning. He is delighted to be in Dublin, the people are lovely, etc., etc. I wondered if Tubridy would mention Andrew Sachs, and he did so but in the most gentle of ways. Ross allowed he found the difficulties brought on by the affair an 'intense experience' and wondered how he could have been such an 'idiot', his word. Then he casually dismissed it by saying the offensive messages would never have been broadcast only he thought Sachs had given his permission, and I found that the most damning comment of all. It's always tougher on a victim who opts to suffer in silence. Sachs hadn't given permission, of course, but on Friday night Ross had no further desire to talk about it. Life has been good to him, he told Tubridy, so let the banter continue ... I no longer buy comic books, nor will I be watching shows featuring Jonathan Ross. â€Â¢ â€Â¢ â€Â¢ MY BEST hour of television last week came on Wednesday evening, courtesy of Channel 4, and at the end of it I could see great merit in having neither jewel nor diamond to my name. Auction of a Lifetime was a documentary based on the extraordinary auction last December at Christie's of New York in which jewellery and other precious possessions owned by the late Hollywood icon Elizabeth Taylor were sold off to the highest bidder. And, hopefully, her last wish for the collection that, according to herself, she was put into this life to love and care for, will be granted: 'When I die, I hope whoever buys them will give them a really good home.' The collection had been amassed by Taylor as a consequence of the great loves of her life â€â€ she was married eight times to seven men â€â€ and marrying her was a costly business. A woman has the right to feel beautiful, she used say, and what it took to make her feel beautiful set a new world record for the most valuable private collection of jewels ever sold at auction. Our own Charlie Haughey once claimed you could lose a million in a tot but, in a blur of zeros, I was dropping millions all over the place on Wednesday night as I tried to keep count. Lot 56, for instance, was the Taj Mahal ruby with gold chain by Cartier, and it set the world record for an Indian jewel when it sold for $8,818,500. It was a piece that had been given to Taylor by Richard Burton and it had only been expected to fetch a quarter of that amount. Burton, the man she loved enough to marry twice, also shelled out big for the largest and most symmetrically perfect pear-shaped pearl in the world, the 16th-century 'La Peregrina' which he bought for her as a Valentine's Day gift. A pearl with a past, King Philip II of Spain had given La Peregrina to Mary I of England before their marriage in 1554 and when Mary died a few years later the pearl was returned to Spain. Where it wandered to from there I can't remember but it made $11,842,500 at last December's auction, a figure which so impressed the bidders that it was given a round of applause. It is thought to have been bought by a buyer from Asia but it almost came a cropper on the night Burton placed it lovingly around Taylor's pampered neck. She let it be known later that she loved the way it fitted down into her ample cleavage, but some few minutes after Burton had given it to her she looked down to admire the scene and, to her horror, there it was and it gone. The chain was there but the pearl was missing and Taylor's first reaction was to threw herself on the bed and bury her head in the pillows. Then it occurred to her that maybe she should look for it, so she went around the room searching on her hands and knees but nothing. Then she noticed one of her pet dogs was chewing something and he was a good dog because when she put her hand under his snout he dropped the most perfect pearl in the world into it. Elizabeth Taylor was the woman that had everything but in a life spoiled by flagrant and conspicuous excess, did everything include being happy? It wouldn't seem so. â€Â¢ â€Â¢ â€Â¢ I'LL NEVER see it but for the first time I can recall I now know somebody who has reached her 100th birthday. Margaret Moynihan (popularly known as Maggie) was born on April 21, 1912 and in later years her daughters were of the opinion that their mother had been born on the day the Titanic went down. As we all now from the recent commemorations, the sinking was a week earlier but, as a son-in-law of hers jokingly explains, the misapprehension might have come about because it took a week for the news of the disaster to reach the Ballinasloe side of the county and, in particular, the Colmanstown area and Maggie's native village of Tiaquin. Born Maggie Wall, in later years she worked in Galway at the Great Southern Hotel where she met her late husband, John Moynihan, who was from Cork. Maggie and John married in 1948 and their home was Fermoyle House, the Salthill guesthouse where Maggie became very well known for her delicious cooking. Last Saturday, Maggie celebrated her 100th birthday at Fermoyle House surrounded by her daughters Cathryn Burke and Carmel Heavey, sons-in-law, grandchildren and friends. Her longevity, she has always claimed, was a consequence of a lifetime of hard work, plain food and cycling from Galway to Tiaquin and back when she was younger. Happy 100th Birthday, Maggie.