Because I don't think I can do another Zoe post today, here's one that might make you smile.
From Dec 1977. A punk band, sort of. We grew up to be, left to right, an eminent artist, me, one of the secret masters of British Comedy, (standing) a Meteorite Man, and, (bottom right) um, I have no idea, and not just because he left the band or vice versa shortly after. (His name is, or was, Simon Wilson, the last time I saw him it was 25 years ago and he had just stopped working in the securities division of a bank. A few years ago, after a signing in Texas, an old schoolfriend told me that he had heard that Simon was dead, although that might have been someone else. I hope he's not dead.)
So far I've been extremely disappointed by Meteorite Men: I keep waiting for them to find a Peculiar Glowing Meteorite that will turn Geoffrey into an enormous lumpy Kirbyish monster and then the other Meteorite Man will have to battle him until the effects wear off. It still hasn't happened. On the other hand, it's got lots of cool meteorite hunting in it, and it's really fun TV.
Also, there's still most of the season to go for them to find a proper glowing meteorite that will transform Geoffrey into Nott-Kin: The Thing That Shambles like a Man. So I will keep watching.
As a tiny side-note from the past: Geoff and I went to the Adverts gig advertised at the bottom of the poster, and I've been a fan of T.V. Smith's ever since (and am currently reading his travel diaries, How To Feel Human).