It has been a week of duelling duos – Corbyn v Smith, on who should rule the Labour Party and mount a serious challenge to the Tories. Clinton v Trump, on who should rule America. BBC ONE v Channel 4, on who should rule the Bake Off.

Everywhere you look, people are falling out or parting company. Brad and Angelina. Fat Boy and Mrs Slim. Paul Hollywood and Mary Berry.

It’s miserable, isn’t it?

Thank goodness, then, for the return to our television screens of Strictly Come Dancing, a glorious, glittery glut of shiny people in sparkly outfits. It’s like Christmas come early – there are even pantomime boos and cheers, expertly directed at the baddies and goodies on stage.

I don’t care if it’s no longer cool to like Strictly. I don’t care if, actually, it never was. I know some people hate it. (I am not friends with those people.) But I love it. I love every twinkle and twirl, every swish and swirl, every pitiful pun and woeful one-liner.

It’s not like those other reality shows – no-one gets hurt (bar the odd pulled muscle or big toe blister), no-one has to eat bugs and in the end, contestants have actually learned how to do something that’s really good for you.

And don’t think I’m some kind of johnny-come-lately, bandwagon-jumping fan – oho no, I’ve been watching it since the beginning. Since before the beginning in fact. I used to watch the giant, feathery-bottomed skirts swishing around the dancefloors on Come Dancing and marvel at the way ladies could keep their heads perfectly still at awkward angles while they seemed to glide around the ballroom.

It was Terry Wogan’s voice I remember from the show. Terry was definitely one of the voices of my childhood, along with Bernard Cribbins and Jon Pertwee.

This week, to mark the anniversary of the 50th anniversary of Terry’s first radio broadcast, colleagues and friends have organised several tributes including Sir Terry Wogan Remembered: 50 Years at the BBC, which will be on BBC ONE on Friday.

The 77-year-old died in January after a short battle with cancer and his death came as a shock to his legions of fans and friends.

As well as watching him on Come Dancing, I would fall about laughing at his antics on Blankety Blank and Eurovision and, in later years, marvel at just how he got away with reading those Janet and John stories on his Radio Two breakfast show.

Everyone always has a good word to say for someone who has died but in Sir Terry’s case, it seems to be genuine and heartfelt.

Amidst all the break-ups and rows this week, it’s good to remember someone who did his job well, untouched by fame or scandal, who loved his family and provided comfort and inspiration to many.