Unlucky!

Here's a shot of the Carphone Warehouse shop in the Rotunda in Birmingham. There is a large display of one of the new shiny phones. The new shiny phone display has broken. Woops.

Picture Special Edition

Afternoon, folks.

Busy afternoon of sport, and holding a show together and not touching Justin's face on air. After completing my mega radio hero post the other day, I forgot to add on my photo experience with Chris Evans:

Ta-daa!

Things You Find When Ill (1)

I was hovering around the internet, looking for tasty bits of distracting rubbish, when I came across this CNN story - linked here.

The gist is that there is a trend for souped up golf carts. Alright, I can see the logic in that - if you could afford the Ferrari of the Fairway, you'd choose that, over the G-Wizz of the Greens. (I like that line a lot. Read it again, please. Mmmm.)

The section that really caught my attention, was this one:

The most recent purchase was by pop star Cheryl Cole, who bought husband and Chelsea footballer Ashley Cole a "Mini-Hummer" buggy as a gift, spending $8,000 customizing the cart with gold-plated hub caps, Swarovski crystals and a trunk for his golf clubs.

Footballers often play golf, but I had previously assumed it wouldn't be one of Ashley's hobbies. I searched Google for references to Ashley Cole ever playing golf, and got nothing. Nowt.

So, is this the most ludicrous golf related purchase ever? Please get in touch if you have either one of the below;

1. More ludicrous wastes of money stories
2. Pictures of Ashley Cole playing 18 hole golf
3. Ideas for the most over-pimped 'thing' ever

Thank you.

Heroes (Ed. 3)

Triple bill hero recognition time, twinned with a confession.

I am in love with radio. It's all I ever wanted to do since I was bitten by the bug as a toddler. Radio Two as a boy, several songs can take me right back. Sadly, they are too cheesy to repeat here.

The first time I can recall ever hearing 'in the dark' radio was possibly Radio One in the mid to late eighties. The presenter had been to New York and claimed to have been in a room with radios tuned to every station in the city. There was one tune that some stations were playing at the same time, and this seemed to be by a 'Rapping Reverend' of some sort. I was transfixed at the noises of life coming out of my clock radio, and I was transported to my under ten idea of what New York would be like.

If you have any ideas about this Rapping Reverend, or, you heard the same broadcast, please get in touch.

One night in 1990 I stayed up late - possibly due to the excitement of the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait. On Beacon, was a voice - a Liverpudlian voice, who took calls and let the listeners speak, and he listened. This man is Ian Perry, responsible for me wanting to become a talk radio DJ. I even got my name read out on his show later that year.

It sounded so natural and real, that I was disappointed to hear later on other exponents deliberately rile their callers into arguments in order to create "great radio". Ian Perry created a community of callers, regular themes, topical debate, and edgy topics at times. Characters, The Head of Cock Ups, how to fill for four hours at a time, I learned a lot.

As secondary school got tougher, the all night listening sessions tended to drop away.

On Sunday afternoon, at about the same time, Dad drove back from the pub (yes, I know) and I heard Chris Evans questioning Claire Rayner, at that time infamous for commercials for "ladies' stationery" that featured wings. Every question had the answer 'wings'. Simple but effective. Fun and funny.

This Evans fellow then exploded onto televison, but quickly returned to Radio with Virgin and the Big Red Mug Show - I still have the final one on tape. (First volume of the excellent autobiography for further reading.) To cut the next ten years out, he then became the biggest thing *ever*, thought he was invincible and then, in once sense or another, lost everything. (Would recommend the unpublished second volume of the autobiography for this bit.)

Then someone had the bright idea of asking him to host a radio-a-thon, linking together every commercial radio station in the country in support of the Indian Ocean tsunami appeal. Everyone who listened enjoyed the professionalism and enthusiasm again. Radio Two gave him a job. He's now taking over the biggest job in daily broadcasting, the Radio Two Breakfast Show.

Legend.

Final broadcasting hero? It's a bizzare split, and I have to split it. Not warranting a full hero status each, for reasons that will hopefully become apparent.

John Peel and Danny Baker (at the same time). John Peel is an inspiration because he loved the music. The music was real and he encouraged it. He was there when Jack Ruby shot Lee Harvey Oswald (true!). He was a wilfully grumpy, aincient, teenager. Nothing gave him more pleasure than discovering new music and sharing it with people. I only heard very few of his shows, and learned more about him following his unfortunate early death.

Danny Baker is spontaneous, witty, and knows how to work an audience. Only been a fan since listening to the Euro 2008 606's last summer, where his total opposition to actually talking about the real events on the pitch was legendary. Now gifted a great slot on Radio Five Live Saturday mornings, still accompanied by the blossoming Issy Clarke. Great to listen to as I prepare to get to my own Sports show on Saturdays!

So there you have it.

Radio Heroes:

1) Ian Perry

2) Chris Evans

3) John Peel and Danny Baker at the same time

Dudley, October 9th 2009

Welcome to Dudley, an improbable stones' throw away from where I used to wait for the bus each day as I went to college.

There used to be a pub by the bus station, called the Joe Darby. (My Dad insists it is known as the Josie D'Arby, which would have made it one of very few pubs in the entire country named after the Welsh actress.)

Anyhow, around the turn of the century the pub needed a reinvigoration. It seemed to be standard to make everything look like New York, lending weight to arguments for a new name. So a neon sign was ordered, hoisted into place...and a couple of years later, the pub lays dormant.

Sadly, it looks as if a bit of the neon sign has fallen off, too.

Welcome to He Metro Bap, Dudley.

Ill.

Evening, crew.

Sitting in bed, laptop on the go, Florence and The Machine doing You Got The Love flying out the stereo. Just read Caitlin Moran's column.

Oh, and spectacularly ill. Flu'd up the eyeballs with, well, flu combined with shivers and sweats, occasional outbursts of Cricketers' Disease and a chest that feels heavier than all of Belgium standing on me.

This has given me a few moments to run through some other odds and sods I wanted to put up here a while back but got sidetracked by the rest of my life intervening.

Excuse me (achoooo!). There.

Right - stand by for pictures. And words.