THE singer PJ Harvey is to record her new album in a see-through recording studio in a wing of Somerset House in London. The public will be able to watch her at work.

Now there’s an idea. Anything Polly can do. A man sits in a glass box with a computer before him. The man is middle-aged, whatever that means. He wears glasses and is bald, something he forgets until a mirror reminds him. He’s been that way for years, so it shouldn’t be a surprise.

The man has a column to write. He scratches his head and starts to type, hoping something will come out… First up he wonders why people whose views you agree with can still be annoying. Last week the actor and comedian Lenny Henry was guest editor of BBC Radio Four’s Today programme. Lenny believes that the news in this country has a white, male bias. So on his temporary watch, the presenters and production team were all from black, Asian or racial minority backgrounds.

In a newspaper column the following day, Lenny admitted to nerves, and recounted some of the Twitter abuse he received. He said he didn’t mind being criticised for his stint as editor. “The fact is, I’m a comedian. I shouldn’t be editing the Today programme. I don’t have the necessary skills, judgment and insight required to do a fantastic job…”

Well, yes, now he tells us. His argument is that lots of black and Asian people with the requisite skills are not getting the breaks they deserve. He has a point and may well be right. I don’t much care who presents the news, so long as they speak clearly and have a bit of wit about them.

But saying something often becomes repetitive. Lenny’s edition of this flagship news programme turned a bit monotonous. Even if someone is talking sense, they can still undermine their argument by going on and on. So I agree with Lenny Henry and feel irritated by him. Where does that leave me?

The man in the glass box stops typing. Will that make the final cut? He scratches his head. There is always the general election, he supposes. He starts to type again, frowning… Four months away, isn’t it? The campaigning has started already. With a fixed-term election, there is no throwing a dart at the calendar to see where it lands. Nope, the date is chosen. And we realise that we are going to be battered and bored witless as Labour and the Tories squabble over who knows best. And all the while, they will be glancing at their ankles to see if Ukip or the SNP are going to trip them up.

Oh God, it’s important – and, oh God again, how dull and bogus it all seems. This election is harder to call than any in living memory, everyone is saying that. Labour are a squeak ahead in the polls. The Tories are carrying on as if they were born to rule, sorry govern, as usual. And no one is talking about Nick Clegg. Has the poor man fallen down a big hole without anyone noticing?

The man in the glass box stops typing again. He thinks for a moment. There was always that other idea, the silly one. He starts to type again… The Musketeers is back on BBC1 and hooray for that. This historical romp always pleases me, even if it is a big boys’ fantasy, all swords and romance, swishing and swashing. The ordinary man watching can only wonder at the contrast with his own life.

These men ride horses like thunder rides the clouds, which is not quite how I ride my bike to work. These men only have to burst into the boudoir of a pretty woman they do not know who is undressing for a steaming bath for her to fall in a smitten swoon. Some mornings I tramp damply past my wife as we swap shower space before work.

These men engage in dangerous swords fights to the death. I play squash...and a bit of badminton. Never mind, we can’t all be musketeers… The man in the glass box sits back and wonders if anyone has been looking in. He sighs. That’ll do, he says, and hits send.