Meanwhile in Europe

Bizarre story on You and Yours (yeah I know) about how UK people who've emigrated to Southern France have found it cheaper to get groceries delivered from Tesco in England than to use their local shop.

PRESENTER: "How do you imagine your local shop feels about it?"

WOMAN: "Well, perhaps they should be more flexible about their prices."

PRESENTER: "Surely they can't help the strength of the pound against the euro?"

WOMAN: "Hmmm."

This is going to fascinate me all day. You move to France to "get away from it all". And then you can't. Not even a tiny bit.

The Death of Zen

Goodbye then, trusty Creative Zen Media player. We've had some times. You've played a lot of terrible music and some great Radio Four. Remember when I showed a video on you to a BBC Future Media Exec and they said "oh, but don't you need a TV Licence for that, sweets?"

You've been smashed and you've still worked, you've diligently played every format, you've been held together with sellotape for the last year... but you've been a good friend.

Now alas, you're utterly shagged. And I don't know what to replace you with. Do I upgrade you to your credit-card sized replacement? Despite my sexuality, I just can't get an iPhone as it won't play most of the media formats I use and isn't available on my phone network.

Temporarily, I've got a £20 new generation portable Digital Radio. And it's proved what I've always feared... Digital Radio is fucked. It's like mobile broadband - it works perfectly if you're in Central London and stand very still.

Digital Radio's been around longer than most people have had the internet, but the idea that they still haven't produced something that can receive Radio 4 on a day with a "y" in it is laughable.

Here's a hilarious piece as a BBC's correspondent tries to test in-car digital radios. Utter Radio Fail:

Could Digital Radio Switchover cost Labour the next general election? The middle-class middlebrow heartland will take almost anything, but not the loss of the Archers in 2015.

[ PS: Dear BBC News. It's lovely that you offer "please embed this clip in your blog" on video clips, but why is it the fattest embed code ever, far wider than blog templates, and immediately stops working if you try and resize it? ]

Crude analogy

Reader Erskine-Davidson points out that my radio play made it into Pick of the Week. I am insanely excited by this.

I play the opening of the show to Lee. He looks at me. "Given how much you love Radio 4, this is your nirvana, yes?"

I nod. "It's like you starring in porn."
Lee smiles. "With Adam Baldwin."

Amaze

Er. Squee.



Apparently, on Radio Four sometime in early July. Bendy bus may run me over now. Life complete.

Meanwhile, Radio!

I wake up, I go to the gym, there's a fire alarm, so it's full of firemen, I have breakfast outside a cafe, I get back and discover my Torchwood Radio Four play is announced.

Today is a good day. Of course, tonight I'm off to see The Wicker Man remake at Bad Film Club, so it's not all giddy wheee.

Filling airtime

So, you're a harrassed researcher on a Radio Four current affairs programme (You and Yawns). Goodness me, you think, I've got to fill five minutes, what's left to steal from last week's Holy Moly and Popbitch?

So, you slap together an article based on their story about an amusing letter complaining to Richard Branson about the food on Virgin. Job done.

Unfortunately, you've forgotten to do two things.
1) Check the source of the email
2) Check your inbox

If you had, you'd have discovered that, in the latest Holy Moly, Popbitch's email is revealed as a fake concocted by a PR firm to generate good publicity for Virgin. Uh oh.

PS: The next item on You and Yours was Greg Dyke talking about how the BBC was the last source of decent independent journalism. Or five minutes of free publicity for Virgin.

Quietly

Spent an hour yesterday afternoon doing local radio circuit punditry about Oliver Postgate. Because I was asked, because I'd spoken to him on the phone a couple of times, and because it was an honour, etc.

At the end of an hour sat in a cubicle in Millbank I realised my flies had been undone the entire time. There's some kind of John Barrowman link there, isn't there?

Sachsgate Sackings

Well, it's all over, again. Mark Thompson finally emerged, blinking into the media spotlight like a mongoose suddenly appointed prep school headmaster. He gave the performance of an iron jelly, and then vanished.

My prediction that it'd just be the producer who got fired seems wildly wrong now. But then, Holy Moly points out that he was just filling in, while his uber-boss Lesley Douglas resigned rather than see him scape-goated. Good for her - it almost makes me forgive her for George Lamb and "women listen to music differently to men".

6Music is an interesting listen today. The giggling refrain of "ooh, we'd better not" and "we've been told we can't" suggests the gastric band of editorial policy has been tightened while terrified producers second guess every decision.

UPDATE: Of course, that didn't stop John Holmes from chatting to his co-host. "You've been reading the Book of Daniel?", "Yes. Chapter Six.", "Is that where he got thrown to the lions?" And, without a pause, he plays "Hanging on the telephone."

Sachsgate: From the forums

Magigirl says on Digitalspy It's time to disband the BBC

We can't continue to fund the filth which is being broadcast in our name and at our considerable expense, and we can't afford to keep on filling the bulging pockets of the likes of Jonathon Ross to the tune of millions of pounds each year, only for them to broadcast filthy, offensive material in return.

Presumably, the BBC served a useful purpose many decades ago but it's now time for the madness to stop.

Sack Ross, and then split the the BBC into its component parts and sell it off to the private sector, the proceeds from the sale being divided and returned to those who funded it, which is us - the licence-paying public.

Um. Meanwhile, the Today Programme pointed out that it was the 70th Anniversary of the War of the Worlds radio show and, very quietly, drew a parallel between millions of people being frightened by a radio programme they hadn't heard, and thousands of people being offended by a phone call they hadn't heard...

Sachsgate

I've met Andrew Sachs. I worked with him once. I was very hungover and trying not to vomit. This isn't so much declaring an interest as dropping a name. He was a nice man - very quiet, likes croissants, bit frosty. But then we had just had Hannah Gordon in and she'd shown us she could split an apple on her knee and that it was a skill that had really impressed John Lennon. "And I mean *really*" she'd twinkled.

Anyway, poor Andrew Sachs. It really is playing into the tabloids' grubby hands, though, isn't it? Aged National Treasure terrorised by Britain's Wealthiest Entertainers? Short of spit-roasting Joanna Lumley it's hard to work out what they could have done worse.

The really sad thing is that you just *know* what's going to happen. You can sense it as soon as phrases like "BBC Internal Inquiry" and "Urgent Investigation" start floating around. Will they fire Ross or Brand? No. In the end they'll simply sack the show's producer. He only earns thirty grand, he's nobody (even though he's got good hair). And it'll look responsible. They can issue a statement: "Clearly, both of them overstepped the mark. Maverick talent needs careful handling, and there was a clear failing in this case."

Which is one way of reading it. Another is to imagine a 25-year old producer trying to overrule two multimillionaires who could end his career instantly. A mistake happened. But personally, I hope he goes on to make many more.

Meanwhile, the vile 6Music-ruining Ray Davies-baiting George Lamb is still employed. Now that's a clear crime.

UPDATE: Well, they've been suspended. Mark Thompson is rushing back from holiday to hear from senior executives he's "tasked" with the investigation (I thought no-one still said "tasked" these days, but he does). But you just know they'll be back after a token wrist-slap. Firing Ross would mean the issue of his £18 million contract never left Mark Thompson.

AND: From an article about the BBC's Editorial Guidelines: "Radio producers do not have to worry about nudity or the use of strobe lights."

UPDATED AGAIN: And it seems as though Russell Brand has decided to spend more time with his strobe lights. But I bet they still boot the producer. Jonathan Ross meanwhile has apologised... saying he only waited so long because he wanted to do it on his tv show. Hmmmn. I remember I once tried a similar excuse with my mum. She didn't buy it.

Coldplay tit

Chris Martin, the man who makes music that glum men drive to. He has spoken again: "I feel like you’ve got to write as many songs as you can between the ages of 28 and 33 because those are your last few years before you get a belly. I couldn’t possibly write a hit record when I’ve got a beer belly." [Digital Spy]

What a dismal, cheerless fool. I mean, yes, clearly the macrobiotic vegan is pretending to be "one of the lads". But, if the spatula he's married to allows him beer, then it's probably from some organic microbrewery and tastes of pond.

It must be terribly depressing being him. He ditched a vocal from Kylie cos it sounded like she was having too much fun, and this week he walked out of a Radio Four interview, sulking: "I always say stupid things and I think Radio 4 is the place that will most remind me of that."

Which is nice.

oh, and another thing

I'm completely not used to having a boyfriend around the flat so much. Forgot all about him the other morning, and was happily pottering around the laundry room when suddenly realised there was a naked stranger looming behind me.

You'll be pleased to hear I didn't think "boyfriend" but instead "psychokiller" and screamed. I would have thrown socks, but there weren't any to hand.

Hmph. Perhaps I should have gone with my first instinct and got a cat.

Meanwhile, not only does he not "get" Radio Four, but he really doesn't like it. The other day I was woken up by my clock radio being passed across to me with a disapproving look.

Boyfriend update

Right. We've a lot of catching up to do. Still can't say where I've been (Top Secret Project keeps on being announced and unannounced like a government policy).

But... bloke update. Well, he's Scottish, he's a lawyer, he's rather handsome and he lives in Northampton. Which is a shame, but has charms of its own. I grew up near there so I get to point at places and go "I went sledging on that hill when I was eight with friends from school. Christopher Price's mother offered us all cigarettes." I think this makes me endearing and whimsical.

Anyway, laywer is almost perfect. Well, apart from his Radio Four blindspot. "I thought it was where Terry Wogan went to die," he said. I put him right, and he looks even more confused. "So, what kind of music do they play on Radio Four?"

"Well, none, really. Just talking."

"Just talking? Like a phone in?"

"Well, not all the time. You know, news and current affairs."

"So is it just politicians and housewives shouting?"

"And some comedy. And a soap opera about a farm."

"Right."

"And you have really never heard of it?"

"Given the breathtaking array of content you've just described, can you think of a single reason why I should have?"

".... well, no."

Fags for Archers

This is the plan. My friend Joe has never listened to The Archers. His favourite soap is Hollyoaks. But we're bribing him with a packet of cigarettes for every omnibus he gets through. Here's his report on last week's:

Okay, I have listened to the Archers omnibus, darlings.

Darlings, I love Lillian. She's great fun with her "Why do I keep so much stuff in this handbag?" I am also intrigued by how big her diary is. "I forgot my diary" "Oh, you can leave it here if you like" "Oh no, let me get it out of your way" Is it the size of a fridge??

Don't like Comedy Sid and Comedy Jolene. They can fuck off, frankly, darling.

I'm intrigued by what Rory has done! Is he the same as Roy? Cos I thought Rory was a 5 year old or something?

Then, darling, David and Ruth waved goodbye to Heather (Ruth's mum who is getting the train back to Newcastle). Ruth's "byeeeeeee" to the taxi made me laugh.

Eventually worked out that Matt and Lillian had split up and stuff. Loved Jolene's fake list of things that Lillian wanted Matt to send over to the pub "Books, jewellery, fur..."

Brenda and Roy: Brenda's being very unreasonable about the house. I'm on Roy's side on that one!

Some blokes talking, I don't know who. But one is married to Freda who has a new hairstyle and an exercise video!!!!! Who is she trying to impress?!?!

Then two women in a shop. One called Nic (who returns later and isn't the world's greatest actress) seems to be there with some kids called George, Susan, Helen, Mia, Jake and Jordan. I think though that I got something wrong and she's only there with one kid and she's talking to her mate Helen. Or something. The other woman is very excited because Nic is... going to have driving lessons!!! Luckily, Will's been showing one of them where the pedals are. Then one of the blokes comes in and has a go at her for telling off a kid. Or something.

Then there are some people talking about lambing but I don't know who they are.

Jennifer, darling and Lillian, darling are driving and following a learner driver and I'm ahead of them! It's Nic!!! Also has, brilliantly, a very standard text message beep-beep to which the other woman says "Is that your phone?"

Then two blokes talking about an "indie chick" who is in a band which advertises on "myspace". Goodness!

Helen and Nic having the "bottle of wine being poured sound effect" and chatting about how Nic is a donkey because she wasn't very good at the driving.

Jenny and Brian arguing. Having problems because Jenny has been shopping. I don't really know who they are or what the connection is. But they seem to have the kid Roy/Rory who I think is only Brian's son not Jenny's. Earlier I had thought that they were the people living in the house that is going to be split up but I now realise they're not.

Roy has Hayley and Phoebe and the new baby and he's going to leave the casserole dish into soak.

And then Hayley has stomach pains!!!!! Only, I thought she was Brenda so did get confused when her brother Roy/Rory helped her out of the bath. These country folk...

Ruth and David are at some kind of concert. I'm not sure who they are but they seem to be married and have a kid called Pip. Who isn't a very good actress. Ruth and David then have a hilarious conversation about kids wearing low-hanging jeans!

Hayley and Mike are waiting.... then sound effect "VRRRRROOOOOOOMMM" to which someone says "Is that the car?" And Mike's "Oh dear" as Hayley rushed to hospital not so great.

Hospital stuff. Hahaha! Brenda is blaming herself because Hayley has had a "tiny... so tiny... tiny... tiny..." baby. Yeah! You and your moaning brought it on, Brenda you bitch!

And I've just realised that Mike is Davros!!!!

Jenny wants a divorce because their house is being split in two as well?!?!?! Are they splitting up two houses in Ambridge?!

Awh! The baby is opening her eyes. I don't care because Lillian, darling, isn't in the scene. Again, getting confused between Brenda and Hayley. They calling the kid Abby. Which is making me think of the Howard's Way character and... "we've got so much love to give you, please stay with us, won't you?" That's the cliffhanger?!?!?!! Are we to tune in to see if the baby answers??! I hope it's an alien or something.

And since when has James Earl Jones been the continuity announcer on Radio 4?!?

Will I be tuning in again?! Hmm... maybe.... I am intrigued by Nic and whether she is a childkiller or something. And Lillian and Matt are fun. Can't stand the comedy yokel pub couple. And a bit confused by all the random blokes, some of whom know indie chicks and some of whom are married to Freda. Quite into the Brenda/Hayley/Mike/Rory or Roy story but don't really get who Jennifer and David are - she has two very middle-class sounding kids and he has Roy or Rory and there's something about a will but they're not part of the Brenda/Hayley/Mike story. It confuses me.

So yeah, I'll be tuning in on Sunday.

You owe me cigarettes.

 

Meanwhile, on The Archers...

I listen to the Archers cycling home, headphones secrued by my helmet. This means I can't rip them out of my ears whenever Will Grundy's drippy new girlfriend opens her mouth.

So, if a raddled gay pedalled past you shouting "shutup!shutup!shutup!" at 7pm last night, now you know.

Seriously, it's all go in England's rural portal to hell. First ghastly Shiobhan had cancer. Or rather, it's fairer to say that cancer had Shiobhan. She managed to be irritating even in a coma, which is surely a first for radio.

With Shiobhan out of the way, Brian and St Jenny of Martyr have to bring up Rory, the genetic hellspawn of Shiobhan and Brian Aldridge. If he's not wetting the bed he's asking what death is ("Well, it's like when Mr Badger said goodbye to all his friends and went down the very long tunnel" explains Brian helpfully).

Dull gays Ian and Adam still manage to tick the box without stuffing it. Adam hired another load of Polish strawberry pickers without incident, and Ian decorated the living room in Japanese style. Oh, and they got married.

Jacks' still mad, drunken soak Lillian may be losing Matt to a local newt expert, and Vile Kenton has smoothly managed to make his girlfriend's rape all about him.

Elsewhere in Ambridge, Linda Snell's failed to burst into flames, and Shula hasn't yet grown angel's wings, but it's surely just a matter of time.

BBC Cutbacks: The audience responds

From Feedback: "I was disgusted to hear the Chairman announce that there would be less programmes. Outrageous. He clearly should have said fewer."

Shuffling mad

"Bitch! Bitch! Shut up, you stupid bitch!" I said.

The woman next to me blinked with surprise, turned away and quickened her pace down the street, hurrying away from this clearly mad stranger.

How could I explain I was listening to Any Answers on the radio?

The Queen

You probably missed the following on Radio Four's PM news show last week, which went something like this:

Paddy O Connell does a trail for his Sunday news show. Eddy Mair, host of the PM show says "Hmm. Would you mind doing that trail again?"

PADDY: What, without the tiara?

EDDY: Yes, if you wouldn't mind.

PADDY: What, you think it's a little fussy...?

EDDY: Well, yes.

PADDY: Oh, that's it. I'm out of here! (sound of door slamming)

EDDY:Ah dear, we've upset another queen.

Meanwhile, on Woman's Hour...

They're interviewing a Reverend Arthur Ping-Pong. Almost reaches the joyous day when they interviewed child psychologist Linda Blair.

Even my sex life is middle-class

So, I whiled away Bank Holiday Monday in a local Italian. He was rather charming, and at some point I got around to asking his name and what he did for a living.

It turned out he was a costume designer in the theatre. As he described the painstaking, passionate nature of his work I got the oddest sense of familiarity.

"Haven't I heard you on the radio?" I asked.

"Why yes! Everyone says this - it was Midweek with Libby Purves."

"Oh my god! Of course!" I gasped, "Tell me - What's Libby really like? I'm so excited!"

He glanced down. "Clearly."

Oh Libby, I'm so sorry.