After last week's moan about Jason and his lack of mates, I feel quite in the moaning groove now.
Today I want to grumble about the lack of cooking sounds on Coronation Street. Walk into any greasy spoon or kebab shop in the land, and what do you hear? The sizzle of frying bacon, the clinking of cutlery and plates, possibly the ping of a microwave, the splash of water running into a sink. In Roy's Rolls and the kebab shop, however, all is silent. In fact it's so quiet that I think they have a computer to produce the food, like in Star Trek. It just comes out of a hatch ready-constituted. Even Wong's chippy had the world's first ever noiseless deep-fat fryer. People are no noisier in their own homes: Gail Platt can make an entire Sunday roast with the silence of a ninja.
I appreciate that all this background noise would give the sound engineers no end of trouble. Apparently even someone wearing a noisy plastic man can cause all kinds of headaches (and not just sartorially), so I shouldn't grumble. But I do.