If you’re a British TV buff on a distant cruise reading this you may start kicking yourself. Tomorrow night, two of the UK’s most popular live TV shows go head to head for the first time.

Which to watch, and which to record, will be the question on every British telly addict’s lips.

It’s like seeing two rival pirate ships preparing to battle it out for mastery of the ocean. If it all goes pear-shaped it could be like watching the Titanic colliding with an iceberg.

The solution is obvious: combine the two shows. If the singers on X Factor could whirl around the floor like the contestants in Strictly Come Dancing (which has just been voted the world’s most successful reality television format) it would save a lot of arguments on future Saturday evenings.

Talking of which, Bruce Beckett’s second blog reminds me of the one form of exercise that many older men avoid on a cruise: making an exhibition of themselves on the dance floor.

Most female passengers of a certain age – some say any age – will bounce up and bop around to the music at the first gargle of a cocktail. If they’re single, their gaze will resemble that of a charming raptor as it glances round a ballroom looking for prey. It’s like being judged by Arlene Phillips.

This is the cue for all the available single men over 50 – if they’ve managed to retain their hair, waist, freedom, money and sense of self-preservation – to immediately do one of several things:

• Duck under the nearest table (grabbing a drink on the way) and lie there, trembling.
• Head for the nearest bar, or exit (which includes the porthole).
• Pretend they’re extremely drunk and ignore all the signals (…frustrated female dancers waving, hooting and whistling – and, in some cases, oiling their zimmer frames for action).
• Seek out another terrified man who is also, reluctantly, in the spotlight, grab his hand and whisper in his ear, “Pretend we’re a happy gay couple, until they go away.”(Warning: Sometimes this last act can go disastrously wrong so be very careful whose hand you grab, especially if he smiles, flutters his eyes, licks his lips and strokes your arm).
• Clutch their stomach and complain of cramps.
• Hitch their trousers up, smile, wink and pretend they are Simon Cowell.

It’s either that or do a Brucie (Forsyth) and slide, creakily, onto the dance floor, holding on to the nearest female dancer.
Personally, I think it’s best to plan for all sorts of contingencies. Possible avoidance tactics could include:

• Wearing a dress to the ball (although you may end up like all the other unaccompanied females in the room – dancing round their handbags).
• Bribing a steward to find you a wheelchair and get somebody to bring you in to the room – and out again if any foot tapping broad heads in your direction.
• If your singing is as bad as your dancing you could try warbling a few notes to keep the vixen’s away. Or put your name down for the new combined dancing/singing TV show, and give the rest of us a laugh on a future Saturday night.

Maybe Royal Caribbean International could add this new singing/dancing show to the unique and varied selection of entertainment planned for Oasis of the Seas, which enters service in December 2009. It wouldn’t be out of place for Oasis promises West End-style shows, high diving, acrobatic exhibitions, comedy acts, theme nights, and parades.

You could call this new show: Strictly Come X Factor is All at Sea.

James Leavey

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