SO IT'S looking increasingly likely that our beloved BBC will be gone within 10 years - particularly if Labour manages to retain power.

And what a travesty this will be for our ever-disintegrating nation.

I, however, have had a brainwave on the subject, and I feel compelled to share it.

Instead of kissing goodbye to this great tradition, the last bastion of non-commercial broadcasting left, why don't we abolish all the rest of it?

Let's all still pay our TV licence fee, but just with our money, rather than with our minds.

Down to one channel, we could eliminate all sport broadcasts and actually start going out into the fresh air to watch matches and competitions for a change (so the Man United fans from Bournemouth won't be able to see their beloved overpaid monkeys every week? Boo hoo. Perhaps they could try supporting their local team for a change!) Just think, with only one channel to fit 24 hours of programmes into every day, we wouldn't have to sit numbly in front of such a load of old "highly watchable" muck.

It's like climate change for the brain. All that bad TV pouring into our front rooms at present is no doubt bad for the human population as a whole, but we could save it all, by going back to just one (BBC) station.

We could get off our bottoms and start living again.

Instead of constructing our evenings (for some, our whole lives) around whatever drivel's clogging up the schedule, we could make plans to meet up with friends, get out and about or (audible gasp!) READ SOME BOOKS!!!!!

Imagine that. Instead of shrivelling our minds with reality TV bilge, we could expand our minds with real real-life, biographies et al.

I for one am terribly excited about this prospect of a brave new world, and am immediately going to phone my local MP in order that he can start an immediate motion in Parliament.

I'd better not phone while Corrie's on, though

My name in print? It's a novel experience

EVER noticed how excited people can get when a song mentioning their name comes on the radio?

"Why don't you come on over, Valerie?" or "Tell ya Mona what I'm gonna do" (anybody know anyone called Mona?) Anyway, we don't tend to get quite so flustered when our names pop up in spheres other than music (I'm sure all the Williams around the country don't get too excited by the weekly episodes of The Bill!).

The other day, however, I stumbled across my exact namesake on Amazon - not particularly exciting, you might say, except that she had written a book, something I have strong ambitions to do, on a subject about which I have considered writing a book myself. Not only this, she had graduated from the exact same university as me, just one year after I did, with a degree in a very similar vein.

It was quite bizarre, and had my colleagues questioning whether someone was trying to steal my identity - until we realised that she was actually a beautifully coiffed but mature lady, with at least 25 years on me.

Seeing my own name on the front cover of a book - and on the copyright page inside - sent a shiver down my spine, and I find myself gazing dreamily at the image of it, pretending it's me.

Reading a review on Amazon stating that "Angela Young writes vivid description and includes unexpected but important detail that brings things alive" gave me a real buzz and one, of course, that I don't deserve.

All of which makes me realise it's about time I got myself into gear, and gave the other Angela Young a run for her money.

Time to get writing...