Radio
Many thanks
Michael Vestey
Several people I know have fled abroad for Christmas and the New Year to avoid what they believe will be excessive millen- nium hysteria. I think, though — and hope — that it will be an anti-climax, but it's clear from letters I've been receiving recently from readers that a far worse event in the life of the nation will be taking place next spring, something that may drive many more people out of the country until the moment has passed.
I refer to the birth of the Blair infant and the cloying publicity that will surround it. Can you imagine the BBC's coverage on both radio and television, the baby experts lined up to comment on every detail of the birth, the medical bulletins every hour, the photo-calls, the baby talk phone-ins on Five Live? It is something I have been trying not to think about but readers keep reminding me. As this is the time of year when I go through all the letters and e-mails I've received, I have noticed how, five months before the event, radio listeners are already becoming edgy. Our pleasure at knowing we have a prime minister who sleeps with his wife is tempered by the consequences.
One reader, Mrs E. Hewison from Wim- bledon, kindly wrote agreeing with my recent criticism of Fergal Keanc's style of reporting on radio. After complaining about 'the seemingly unstoppable sentimentality that has invaded our lives to a ridiculous extent', she concludes by hoping that the BBC will not let Keane anywhere near the Blair infant story. When I read this I froze with horror and feared that only a bucket of hot water thrown over me would thaw my immobilised state. It hadn't occurred to me but, of course, there is a ldnd of grisly inevitablity about it: Keane announcing the birth from the steps of the hospital, and his subsequent 'Letter To Baba Blair' on Radio Four's From Our Own Correspondent. One for Jaspistos in this magazine, perhaps? Yes, it's fishing from a small boat in the middle of the Tay for me next spring. Another reader, George Stevens, wrote from Wiltshire to complain that a headline in the Six O'Clock News on Radio Four one evening in November announced that Cherie's father was pleased to have become a grandfather again. Exasperated, Mr Stevens asked, 'Has this country turned into a village?' In an earlier column I won- dered what the expression 'the barman's bollocks' meant as I had heard a woman using it on Radio Three about Damien Hirst, an alleged artist. I assumed it was a negative criticism but, according to David Fogarty in Bristol, the opposite is the case. I should have guessed, really, and I am grateful for Mr Fogarty's erudition. He says it means, in current slang, the creme de la crème. He adds helpfully that it originates from the comic Viz where 'the dog's bol- locks' was equally popular. 'I hope this information has been of use to you,' he writes, 'and that you can now feel confident of using this new form of endearment at dinner tables, family gatherings and Gilbert & George exhibitions.'
An e-mail came from Nicholas Smart of the Magdalen College School in Oxford taking issue with my review of a Talk Radio programme presented by the Conservative pundit Peter Hitchens and Derek Draper, the former Labour spin doctor. I had not been impressed by Draper on the radio but Mr Smart is clearly a loyal fan. My review, he said, was typical of the 'kind of igno- rance and right-wing bias that I have come to expect from your publication'. He thought the primary purpose of the show was entertainment and that Draper would attract listeners not the `sobre [sic] and quite frankly dull tones of Peter Hitchens'. Well, Mr Smart, Hitchens is still there, now with Austin Mitchell on Sunday mornings, and Draper, sadly, was dropped after what sounds like an enviably enjoyable and colourful radio experiment in a Dutch brothel.
After writing about an item on Radio Four's Front Row that discussed BBC nov- els, I was upbraided by Peter Haley-Dunne in Budapest. He said, quite rightly, that although I gave details of my own novel about the BBC, Waning Powers, I was vague about Penelope Fitzgerald's. The truth is I couldn't remember what it was called, and I hadn't been taping the pro- gramme (if in doubt, leave out), but Mr Haley-Dunne points out it is Human Voices and he bought a 1980 Penguin edition in Budapest last year. I do know that it is said to be the best of the genre and I must get around to reading it.
Anyway, thank you for your letters and e-mails, there have been too many over the year to cover in this column. It never ceas- es to amaze me how much radio listeners care about the medium. E-mails to me are easier to deal with and, if necessary, reply to. So, my e-mail address is Michael.Vestey@btinternet.com.
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