Almost everything on television seemed really strange this week, not least the ad breaks.
"I don't know if we should kiss," the nervous boy said on the extra peppermint chewing gum ad. "I mean, you're a zombie." She smiled sweetly at him and replied "But I'm kind of hot." Then they embraced and her arm fell off.
That seemed both funny and quite charming a couple of weeks back, but this week all I could think was: how weird. And how weird, too, all those ads featuring couples and families and friends physically interracting with each other as if there was no terrible tomorrow, which of course there wasn't when the ads were made.
And how weird, too, to watch Dancing with the Stars (RTÉ1) in an empty studio with canned cheers from a non-existent audience, or the almost deserted Late Late Show (RTÉ1) with only Ryan Tubridy and a few well-spaced health experts scattered around the auditorium.
Most surreal, though, was the sight of Claire Byrne, self-isolated with cold symptoms and broadcasting to the nation from her garden shed. That was the week's most arresting image and brought home to viewers the stark reality of our current situation.
Health Minister Simon Harris was very impressive on this edition of Claire Byrne Live, and so too was Taoiseach Leo Varadkar the following night in his address to the nation: politicians stepping up to the plate and telling it like it is. No matter what anyone's political allegiances might be, we're lucky to have them in this suddenly changed Ireland.
As it happened, Changing Ireland: My Big Idea was the title of RTÉ1's new Monday night offering, though it had no ideas, big or otherwise, about coping with Coronavirus. Instead, this was feelgood television in the manner of Nationwide, and indeed any of its four segments would have fitted snugly into a Nationwide slot.
So we got a segment on the fad for men's sheds, of which there are now 450 in Ireland, with men, mostly middle-aged or elderly, gathered together to play skittles or music or card games or simply have a natter with each other over breakfast or lunch.
It all seemed admirable, but you couldn't help observing the absence of social distancing and you wondered how many of these sheds have had to be closed in the past week or so.
There were also segments on a Cork-based rapid-response helicopter ambulance service and on an enterprise that gets supermarkets to provide surplus food to charities. Very worthy if not especially interesting.
Elsewhere on RTÉ, architect Hugh Wallace oohed and aahed over a house restoration in The Great House Revival (RTÉ1) and then oohed and aahed over three more houses in Home of the Year (also RTÉ1). Given the week that was in it, RTÉ's addiction to property porn seemed especially shallow and inappropriate.
But inappropriate doesn't begin to cover the grotesque sexism on display in Miss World 1970: Beauty Queens and Bedlam (BBC2). The event took place in London's Royal Albert Hall and it coincided with the formation of the Women's Liberation movement in the UK.
Contemptuous of the protesters, both outside and inside the venue, host Bob Hope declared from the stage that he was "very happy to be here at this cattle market tonight". And event impresario Eric Morley commended the "prime beef" on display.
Racist as well as sexist, the competition had never featured a non-white winner, but it did in 1970 and that year's winner, Jennifer Hosten from Grenada, was on hand to recall her victory and her subsequent career as a diplomat.
Also reminiscing were some of the protesters, notably pink-haired Jo Robinson, who's played by Jessie Buckley in the new movie Misbehaviour, a dramatised version of that raucous night. But this sprightly documentary was good enough for me.
However, Miles Davis: Birth of the Cool (BBC2) was the week's outstanding documentary, a two-hour profile of the great jazz innovator with absorbing contributions from Quincy Jones, Herbie Hancock, Carlos Santana and Juliette Greco, who had been his lover during his time in Paris in the early 1950s.
"Why don't you marry Greco?" she recalled Jean-Paul Sartre asking the trumpeter. "Because I'm in love with her", he replied. But his relationships with women were tempestuous and sometimes violent, a trait inherited from his dentist father, who had frequently beaten Miles's mother.
Drug addiction was another downside but there was no denying his musical genius, especially on such seminal albums as Milestones, Kind of Blue, Sketches of Spain and In a Silent Way, though some of us parted company with him during the fusion forays of the 1970s and 1980s.
He died in 1991 at the age of 65, but the legacy he left is immense and this film, using Miles's own words to narrate the story, was a fine tribute to him.
The first two instalments of London-based drama Trigonometry (BBC2) were intriguing. Cafe owner Gemma and paramedic Kieran take in girl lodger Ray to ease their financial problems, but she has problems of her own.
That's the basic set-up in this slow burner that so far has only hinted at a three-way sexual development. But the script is alert and clever and the three leads are engaging, so it might be worth sticking with.
But don't bother your barney with Love is Blind (Netflix) or Five Guys a Week (Channel 4), two dating shows that redefine the word vacuous.