There’s a character on Postman Pat that I hate, passionately. Bill Thompson, the child of Alf and Dorothy, is a snarky little sod with an attitude problem. There’s a part in an episode about a treasure hunt, where he says “I’d be finished by now if I didn’t have to wait for you slowcoaches”, which invokes in me an almost physical loathing. Even the Postman Pat fandom page describes him as “conceited”. I’ve spent so much time watching Postman Pat with my baby that I’ve conjured up Succession-worthy backstories to explain Bill’s flawed personality – is it the pressure of being promised his dad Alf’s farm from an early age?
This is what happens with children’s television, once you become a parent and suddenly find yourself watching it. You know you’re watching something created for children, but you cannot help but impose onto it an adult sensibility. For example, people often remark that Postman Pat is objectively a terrible postman – always losing the thing he is supposed to be delivering. I counter that since Royal Mail privatisation and the transformation of his role into “special delivery”, he is probably on a zero-hours contract, not to mention constantly being asked to do things, such as flying a helicopter or catching a pony, that are well beyond a usual postman’s duties. My father, when visiting, pointed out that Pat being constantly tracked on an app by Ben in the office is an accurate portrayal of the kind of surveillance capitalism many workers are now forced to contend with.
