So they put it into production and immediately came up against the problem of access.
A "Duh!" moment. Was Yoko Ono going to allow these nuts into her apartment in the Dakota building? I think not.
So they were reduced to looking for John Lennon on a spooky island he never actually visited- but only five miles from where his plane once touched down.
"John, John are you there? Speak to us John!"
Last night we were looking for Mae West. Or as the nearly bald female presenter with the Tin Tin quiff put it- making a "journey into a woman who made a huge imprint on her native city of New York."
We looked for her in a theatre she once played as a child.
She didn't seem to be there.
We looked for her in a spiritualist church she'd visited once or twice.
She wasn't there either, but there was an entirely inexplicable smell of cookies and coffee.
Finally we looked for her in a bar she'd frequented back in the roaring 20s.
Naah, no show, but we did make contact with a couple of Victorian children and a weird guy called Vincent who likes to stand in the corner and watch.
I love this show.