'CAN you live without television?" asked a recent Channel 4 TV programme. I'm sure most of us could if we tried. But the television licensing authority doesn't think we can, or should.

For one of their spies may turn up at your the house at any time of the day or night to inspect your television licence when you may be entertaining friends, having a meal, 'scrabbling' with your partner, engrossed in the Times crossword puzzle, reading your local daily, or just sitting quietly meditating, while listening to the muted wallpaper music of BBC Radio York.

When you finally convince your interloper that you haven't a hidden television anywhere in your home, he will go away shaking his head, with a look of disbelief on his face. Well, that is what I have been told by a friend, who has been tormented by one of these determined interrogators.

There are people who don't seem to be able to live without television. Some of them watch soccer or snooker while drinking ice-cold lager from aluminium cans, and throw their empties into the fireplace and - I've been told - at their partners, if they forget to refill the fridge.

There are other people who cannot live without television, but being greatly concerned about their health, never touch alcohol, preferring to drink soft-drinks and eat chocolates, potato crisps, peanuts and pizzas, while watching Brookside, Blind Date, or Channel 5 'adult' movies into the small hours.

After watching last week's programme, I carried out a little research into the television viewing habits of other countries. Believe it or not, 70 per cent of the world's population don't own televisions, or even read newspapers. Now there's a market for the media to exploit.

Surprisingly, the ratio of televisions to people in Libya is 1:200 - which makes you wonder what the Libyans get up to in their leisure time. That I leave to your imagination, for this is a family newspaper.

In the USA there are almost as many televisions as guns, and in the 1980s a nationwide survey found that 44 per cent of American children between the ages of four and six prefer the television to Daddy. But it gets worse - by the time five-year-old children reach 14, they will have seen an average of 13,000 deaths on television. Now that could be why they need so many guns.

JEAN had another birthday last week. She didn't get excited - she's had plenty before. And anyway, we don't throw sexagenarian birthday parties anymore.

She received her usual score or more of cards from relatives and friends, and there were the usual absentees - their cards would arrive a day or two later. Why is it that men nearly always have to rely on women to keep birthday lists?

I gave the cards a once over to see if there were any surprises. There was - a pretty card, covered with spring flowers and kindly sentiments. But it was the sender's cryptic message which intrigued me: "Thank you for replying to my letters... Maybe we'll get a chance to meet soon. Tom".

Actually, it came as a bit of a shock: my Old Dutch seemingly carrying on with another man, even writing to him, and having the temerity to display his card on the mantelpiece! And what did he mean about meeting her soon? Not much chance of that, with her limited mobility.

"Who is Tom?" I asked.

"Oh, come on, you know, Tom Champagne, the Reader's Digest Prize Draw Manager," she snappily replied.

Hmm... I thought, how come he knows, and remembers, her birthday when so many who ought to, don't?

"Oh, him - that nutty bearded Cannuck, who keeps promising you money, motorcars and exotic holidays," I said. We both laughed. But just in case there is something going on, I've hidden her walking stick - she'll not get far without it.