Mike Ward At Large

Pervasive Prattling

Three whole weeks into this new year, and somewhat amazingly my get-vaguely-fitter regime is still more or less on track. “I’m off to the gym,” I’m proudly announcing to my family on an almost daily basis. And it’s true, that’s exactly where I do go.
It’s a slight distortion of the truth, I’ll admit, in that the gym also has a rather nice pool, and that’s the only bit I tend to use. Oh, I’ll occasionally do a stint on the cross-trainer – precariously propping up my iPhone on the display so I can simultaneously catch up with EastEnders and see if poor Stacey has been sectioned yet – but mostly I head straight for what’s rather unpleasantly referred to as the wet area.
Unsavoury name or not, I do like the wet area. My swimming may be clumsy and awkward but I exert enough graceless energy to feel it’s doing me some good. Then it’s a steam, a sauna and back to work.
I’m not sure the steam room and sauna are of huge benefit to me, fitness-wise, but these are where I get to close my eyes for a few precious minutes and zone out. I love this bit. Except, that is, when I encounter what I call Gogglebox syndrome. 

Inspired by the Channel 4 show of that name, this is the name I’ve given to that peculiar 21st century habit people have developed of not being able to shut the hell up, even for five minutes, no matter where they happen to be. Of feeling the constant need to prattle on, usually very loudly, about nothing of any consequence, oblivious to how irritating this is to those around them. Of seemingly feeling threatened by the very idea of silence.
Gogglebox has somehow made it acceptable for people to relentlessly spew out their banal, fatuous, witless opinions while sitting watching TV, much to the annoyance to us old-fashioned types who’d rather watch a programme properly and talk about it afterwards. And yes, these are the same mouthy numpties who’ll sit and hold full-volume moronic conversations with one another in environments such as the steam room and sauna, where others have clearly come to chill out. 
Such is their lack of self-awareness that even if you jab your fingers very demonstrably in your ears, they fail to take the hint. Believe me, I’ve tried.
Most health clubs welcome feedback, so here’s mine. Put a sign on the door, politely telling customers: “If you’ve nothing worthwhile to say, which you almost certainly haven’t, then kindly shut the hell up.”
Actually, I’m not sure I’d even bother with the “kindly”. And while we’re at it, I could suggest an even better word than “hell”.
Mike Ward is the TV Critic of the Daily Star and the TV Editor of the Daily Express Saturday magazine. Hear him every Monday afternoon with Guy Lloyd on Brighton’s Juice 107.2
Twitter: @mikewardontv