Beware the Lawnmower Man's omens
Billy Connolly said of flying to New Zealand, words to the effect “You travel 12,000 miles, through a dozen or so time zones, stopping off in various far-flung outposts, finally to land in – Scotland.” He's right geographically also both countries have overbearing neighbours and I was heading to one of them from the other. I arrived in NZ, not by design, I ran out of dosh, so Australia was on hold. Now, for all their faults there is still a certain cachet attached to the BBC name in overseas territory.
Therefore, even though at one time I was a mere worker bee with the corporation satisfying the needs of the Queen bee (and boy oh boy there were a lot of them). I used my association to the max when I pitched up at the Kiwi equivalent, NZBC, in Wellington for an interview. It was like stepping back into the era of John Reith circa 1922. Just a quick detour, although Reithian became an adjective signifying the moral high ground, allegedly, he did like to dally with young damsels, loathed Churchill but rather admired the Austrian Corporal. Mind you, despite those dubious misjudgements, he's still a giant among the PC pygmies now running the corporation. Where was I? Oh yes, the interview was conducted by three suited and booted toffs, who looked like they had stepped out of 'Tom Brown's Schooldays.' Long story short – the 'Fun Boy Three' offered me a gig in Palmerston North, which is a very tedious town. Naming a bridge or a school after a 19th century PM is okay, but not an entire town. Hitchhikers hold cardboard signs saying; ANYWHERE!
So, it was hotfoot time for the boy Ashley to Auckland where fortuitously an old cobber from Australia was working on the radio and got me in through the back door. The management decided it would be a bonza idea to team me up with a big hairy dairy fed Kiwi bloke called 'Loosehead Len.' on the breakfast show. This appeared at the time as a fool’s crusade combining a rough tough rugger bugger with a skinny slightly effete Pom. But, it worked, and boy did it work? We ripped through the ratings taking number one spot over a dozen other stations.
The show was so ramshackle compared to the super slick competition, listeners seemed to relate to a couple of blokes just mucking about. One listener who really got what we were doing was Gus the 'Lawnmower Man.' He'd turn up at our outside broadcasts on a regular basis. One such gig was at a large shopping mall. In the crowd were, rather worryingly, a large contingent of the New Zealand equivalent of the Hell's Angels, known as the Mongrel Mob. We were running an audience participation competition and one point one of the Mob's molls won a prize., which pleased us, we thought that should keep the natives happy. I called out “Well done, hop over and pick up your prize.” Out of the crowd came a girl with only one leg – hopping. She had lost the limb in a motorcycle crash. I noticed 'Loosehead' had turned a whiter shade of pale as she approached aided by a tattooed man mountain Maori biker who lumbered up to us and growled “Cheers boys, give us your autographs” But, of course, faithful reader you know these halcyon times are going to end badly. Suddenly, the management decided to take things seriously and bring in a hotshot producer with a research team.
This stupidity turned us into an anodyne run of the mill show like dozens of others. More proof if proof were needed, when our biggest fan Gus was asked by a previous Mrs Ashley when he came to cut our grass, if he was he still enjoying the show he retorted “Not really, they sound just like all the other dorks on the radio now.” When I was told I went into denial mode, reeking of hubris; “What does he know about radio? He's the lawnmower man. ”Turns out Gus the Guru knew a lot. The next survey showed we were going down the gurgler faster than Mrs May's Brexit plane are now. This might be tempting providence, but I'm on the radio here in Spain. If you like the 'Golden Oldies' try BR2 on 91.1 in the Torrevieja area or www.br2fm.com every weekday mornings 9-12. Tell Gus the 'Lawnmower Man' to give me another go.