World At One proves boring radio can be a real turn-off
IN an age when so many so-called “celebs” are famous for being famous, Amanda Holden stands out as a true grafter. And a grafter with guts. She has just opened to huge acclaim as leading lady Vera in a new West End production of Stepping Out. Big musical productions like this are always a massive risk for all involved, especially the lead. The difference between a smash and a flop is thin. So well done Amanda for taking the gamble – enjoy your winnings! MY two must-listen-to radio programmes if I’m in the car or the kitchen are World At One and PM, those daily current affairs stalwarts on BBC Radio 4. As far as I’m concerned, even by themselves they’re worth the licence fee.
PM goes from strength to strength under the idiosyncratic and ever-so-slightly-barmy Eddie Mair (funny how his turn on Newsnight didn’t work out. Some broadcasters are just quintessential radio people, all instinct and flow; put them on screen and they stiffen and falter with sudden self-consciousness).
But the World At One has, I’m afraid, turned into Yawn At One. TALKING of headwear, I note the favourite new accessory for ladies at Cheltenham races is a feathered hat. Yuck. I can’t stand the things. They remind me of stuffed birds. We once had a French holiday ruined for me (yes, I have a bird phobia) because our rented villa was absolutely full of huge, stuffed birds.
Why anyone wants to wear taxidermy on their head as a fashion statement is beyond me. The lunchtime programme has always been heavier in tone than its fleeter-of-foot teatime stablemate but of late the first show out of the traps has become, dare I say it, ponderous, repetitive and… well, boring.
The opening news round-up is fine; it’s the first item that increasingly goes wrong, because it goes on. And on… and ON. I’m all for in-depth coverage but exhaustive can be exhausting. Lead stories are leaden, sometimes droning on well past the quarter-of-an-hour mark.
Every shade of opinion has to be included: on an industrial dispute, say, we’ll hear from the shop floor workers, then their boss, then the union rep, then FLIGHTY: At the races someone from the TUC, then a spokesperson for industry, then a junior government minister followed by the opposition counterpart, then “our industrial affairs correspondent”… it gets worse by the week. One day soon they’ll interview the factory cat, then the mice – and then the nearest vet.
I’ll stay loyal because fundamentally I love the show. It’s an institution, rather like a favourite restaurant. But it doesn’t matter how expert the chef is, if he piles the main course too high on the plate, either it blunts your appetite or you get indigestion.
With Yawn At One these days, it’s a bit of both. Less is more. MY picture of the week is of idiots of the week, the yet-to-be-named family who posed for selfies on the crumbling cliffs that feature in Broadchurch. The woman is seen sitting chummily on an overhang while the man, child on his shoulders, stands a few feet behind brandishing a selfie-stick. What is it with people like this? Has their survival instinct gene gone rogue, let alone the evolutionary programming that makes us automatically steer children away from danger? I doubt they can be prosecuted and suspect public naming would not necessarily mean shaming. Some folk are just too stupid to feel shame. BROADCHURCH crossed a line on Monday night and the beating heart of social media is still fibrillating in shock. David Tennant reheated a cup of tea in the microwave.
Never mind the (excellent) plot; Twitter was soon in meltdown in what quickly became known as the War of Tennant’s Tea.
Tea expert Jane Pettigrew said she had “never” done it, although “I have friends who have and I have shuddered at it! The whole point of tea is it is a FRESH brew. If the tea has been sitting around, with or without milk, it will have oxidised and changed in taste.”
Olivia Colman’s character clearly agreed, asking her colleague: “Are
an old stoRy
“DO you pay for your prescription, sir?” the pharmacist asked me. “Of course.” Did she think I was in some way disabled? Or on benefits (my jeans were a bit torn).
She smiled. “I don’t think you do, sir. How can I put this… I think you’re having a senior moment.”
The penny didn’t just drop; it went like a tiny bullet to my heart. Of course! I’ve turned 60! Old men get free prescriptions, don’t we?
I was depressed until bedtime. you really going to drink that disgusting stewed tea?”
Well I’m sorry but the whole lot of them are just plain wrong. I’m always reheating tea in the microwave and it doesn’t make a blind bit of difference to the taste – unless you bring it to the boil; that DOES queer the flavour. But anything up to piping hot is fine.
Judy saw me doing it years ago and wrinkled her nose. “Disgusting. Don’t ever do that to my tea.”
Well Judy, it’s confession time. Actually, I’m afraid sometimes I have – and you’ve never noticed any difference. “Tea okay?” I ask. “Mmm, fine thanks,” the reply.
So the problem is clearly not all in the microwave – it’s all in the mind.