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CORONATION STREET March 2003. I think someone once said that everybody should write a television review at least once in their lifetime. If they didn't they should have done because it is an uplifting experience. Here's mine. Monday, Coronation Street, 7.30-8.00 and 8.30-9.00, Granada TV. In the entire history of TV soaps one of the very worst experiences a viewer can be exposed to is the sight of Coronation Street's Gail when she is miserable. An even worse experience is to be exposed to her when she's happy. Fortunately last night she was still firmly set in miserable mode, as indeed might any woman be after having recently discovered that her husband is a serial murderer. Presumably to help her cope with the problem, although it might have been because it had dawned on her that she'll have to put up with her nightmare of a son David for quite a few years yet, she has eased her worries by hitting the bottle. She would be well advised to worry more about the prospect of a bottle hitting her, as blunt instruments, a shovel and a crowbar up to now, are the preferred murder weapon of her still at large husband Richard. I think she's safe enough for the time being though as Richard has only been gone for a week and will need a lot longer than that in order to meet the countless theatrical agents and impresarios who will no doubt be queuing up to sign him up as a pantomime villain, for surely that is his future for years to come following his performances over the last few weeks.      Meanwhile in the Webster home Rosie, sent upstairs once too often by her mother Sally, had found Sally's make-up bag and applied most of its contents to her face in preparation for her appearance at a friend's birthday party. Coupled with a tight crop top which revealed buds just starting out on their journey to becoming breasts, she looked like something that Humbert Humbert might fantasise about. On seeing her Lolita-like appearance her father Kevin, obviously on the same wave-length as Humbert Humbert, and knowing that there are lots more Humbert Humberts out there in the big wicked world, immediately ordered her back upstairs to change. In her short life Rosie has spent more time going up and down the stairs than the average seventy-year-old and it would hardly come as a surprise to anybody if she needs a stairlift to get up and down them by the time she is eighteen.      Speaking of needing a stairlift in the not-too-distant future brings us to Ken Barlow. It was apology time for Ashley, who a few weeks ago had administered a verbal lashing to Ken for the latter's defence of the alleged killer of Ashley's wife Maxine (insofar as it is possible for somebody who sounds like Donald Duck's dimmer brother to administer a verbal lashing). This of course called for Ken to look smug, but as Ken looks smug all the time this obviously presented something of a problem, for how would the viewer know he was feeling smug about it if he was already looking smug? I wondered how he would get round this seemingly insurmountable obstacle but in the event I had no need to worry for when Ashley said: "I know it's a lot to ask Ken, but can you forgive me?" Ken simply moved up a gear into supersmug and replied: "Of course I can, Ashley."      I am beginning to get very worried about Ashley's baby son, Joshua. You would only have to put a butcher's apron on the mite and possibly a meat cleaver in his hand and he would be the spitting image of his grandfather, Fred Elliot. This would not do at all of course as it a golden rule in soaps that a person must never bear even the slightest resemblance to any other member of their family. Let's hope the producers of the show don't spot this too and put the matter right by making Joshua the next victim of Richard Hillman. Which would have the effect of moving Gail one down the list. Which might bring a smile to her face. So let's hope not.