It’s embarrassing to admit, but I am a regular viewer of the BBC’s Antiques Roadshow.

The show is incredibly popular and has been running for over 31 years on British TV.

There are also international versions broadcast in the USA, Australia, Canada, Finland, Germany, The Netherlands, and Sweden.

In the unlikely event that you have never seen the show in question, it usually starts with the presenter introducing the historical/elegant/unusual location from which this particular show is being broadcast. It could be anything from a castle to a stately home. History buffs love it.

While this is going on, viewers can see a long line of hopefuls who have queued for days desperately clutching a family heirloom, or something they picked up for a song at a car boot or garage sale.

And then we meet the expert appraiser who specialises in whatever item is on view.

What you’ve got to remember, especially in these uncertain times, is that an antique is something that’s far too old for the poor. But not too old for the rich. If it’s any good at all there’s probably some mug, somewhere, who’ll buy it.

Some dealers say that if it’s too hard to dust, it must be an antique. If that were true, I’d sell my Sainted Aunty Edna, poor old stick. Mind you, she is a descendant of the great English poet, John Clare.

Back to the show – the antiquarian gives some inside information about the item (‘Ming Dynasty, very rare’) and then usually asks where the lucky owner got it.

I’m always hoping someone will finally admit that a) they or their ancestor stole it, and b) they get collared by the police live on the programme. Maybe the BBC should create another spinoff show: ‘Gotcha. You thieving git.’

Anyway, slowly but surely the expert moves towards answering the one question that is on everybody’s lips: ‘Never mind all that, fascinating though it is, how much is the bloody thing worth?’

If the value is lower than its owner anticipated – as can be seen from their crestfallen/put-a-brave-smile-on-your face, the BBC’s valuer tries to soften the blow with something along the lines of, “It may be absolutely worthless, tasteless, ugly and crap, rather like what you’re wearing but I’m sure you’d never wish to part with it – for all the fond memories it represents.’

Yeah. Sure.

And if the value is unexpectedly high, it’s like watching an acceptance speech at the OSCARS when the starry recipient starts drooling, yells ‘Result!’, rips their clothes off and dances madly off into the night to shag George Clooney.

Meanwhile most of the viewing audience at home is tearing their hair and yelling, ‘Don’t just stand there gaping like an Member of Parliament caught by the expenses committee, take it to an auction house and flog it!”

I doubt it took very long for the BBC to wake up to the fact that most of the Roadshow’s viewers are greedy pigs and just into the programme for the money. For immediately after the show is over many people dash off to their attics, cellars and garages to dig out some tatty old object that could help keep the wolf from the door.

Which brings me to Celebrity Cruises’s recent announcement that the American art historian, TV personality and syndicated newspaper columnist, Dr Lori, will be on-board their ship, Celebrity Equinox, during an an 11-night “Ultimate Caribbean” cruise departing Fort Lauderdale on 29 March.

Ports of call include George Town in Grand Cayman, Cartagena in Colombia, Colon (sic!) in Panama, Puerto Limon in Costa Rica, Roatan in Honduras, and Cozumel in Mexico, before the ship returns to Florida.

Passengers are encouraged to bring personal items on-board at their own risk – where they, the items, not the passengers, will be valued, for free, by Dr Lori.

Celebrity Cruises, wisely, I suspect, will not handle their guest’s precious personal items – so if you’re thinking of signing up for this cruise I should leave that huge dusty old wardrobe at home.

But if the item you’re lovingly carried on board the ship turns out to be worth serious money and you can’t wait to get home to sell it, I suggest you look up the names of the top auction houses in each port, in advance, just in case.

Then maybe you could make enough money to book another cruise.

And if the item turns out to be worth less than last year’s news or day old fish ‘n’ chips, I suggest you toss it overboard.

Or offer it to the cruise line for ballast.

James Leavey

Posted in Humour