Tunnels!

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b03gvsln
</giggle>

I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue

As I mentioned previously, I've wanted to see a recording of I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue since I first started listening to Radio 4. I can remember realising that people actually got to be in the audience for the show and desperately wanting to be part of that. Tonight I was lucky enough to do exactly that.

What could be better than just getting to see I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue? Well, being there for the first recording of the 60th series was pretty great. But discovering that John Finnemore was
the guest panelist was unexpectedly amazing.

It's not stalking if it's accidental. Definitely.

The recording was at the Playhouse Theatre, Weston-super-Mare. It started at 7:30 and we weren't finished until 10:30 (with a short interval, ideal for sorting out car park faffage). I don't envy the person who has to decide what to cut to get that down to two half-hour shows. Though quite a bit of the time was spent re-recording Jack Dee's lines. Tonight Weston leaned a valuable lesson about the pronunciation of "Danube".

The first show will be broadcast 11th November, listen out for anyone laughing a little more than everyone else and that'll probably be me. It was hilarious. The letter from Queen Victoria to Isambard Kingdom Brunel was my highlight, without a doubt. Though Barry Cryer twerking is something I won't forget in a hurry!

In finishing all I can say is: "Tunnels" Oh. And.... Da-noob

John Finnemore, Tim Brooke-Taylor, Jack Dee, Jon Naismith, Graeme Garden, Barry Cryer.
You'll have to trust me on that.

Pandemic

It's a little late in the day for this recommendation but I've only recently caught Pandemic (Part 1/Part 2/Part 3) in the Afternoon Drama.

Each play tells a story in its own right: Part 1 (Present) about the outbreak of a deadly virus; Part 2 (Future) about an investigation into a government cover-up in the wake of the outbreak; and Part 3 (Past) the truth behind the outbreak.

I love intertwined stories but the fact that these really did stand on their own as individual stories was a testament to how good the overall arc was. I'd recommend catching one, or all, if they're still available.

Chain Gang

I didn't follow the 2009 Chain Gang story closely but, by the end, I think it showed everything that is interesting and crazy about the experiment.

If you've not come across it before, the idea is that 4 Extra broadcasts two minutes of a story, then listeners write the storyline (not script) for the next two minutes. This goes on for a dozen episodes, by which point the final story only just about bears any resemblance to the initial starting chapter. The 2009 story jumped around wildly in time and theme but was tied up quite neatly in a live recording at St Pancras station by Robert Shearman.

This year's story seems to be starting out firmly in thriller territory. As much as I appreciated the creative ideas that led to the wilder chapters of the 2009 story, I hope the judges might try to keep things a little tighter this year. A listener-guided story that hangs together as a cohesive whole would be a remarkable thing.

I've not decided yet whether to enter a storyline but I'm a little tempted to use it as a little writing exercise and see if I can write something interesting for the next section in the form of two minutes of script.

Great theory, of course, but in practise I expect I'll just sit back and enjoy the story in all its glorious, unfolding chaos!

AudioGO

When Red & Blue returned to the Afternoon Drama slot in August, I googled the series to find out more. I'd heard and loved the first episode of the first series via Play of the Week but I'd thought it was a one-off rather than the first of a series. I was determined to track down more information. What I found was much more than that, I found:

http://www.audiogo.com/uk/

 I've no idea how it took me so long to stumble upon a website dedicated to selling BBC dramas, comedies, audiobooks and just about every other variety of download that you can imagine. I'm surprised and a little ashamed of my own ignorance of such a fantastic site.

I quickly lost hours in searching for interesting dramas and comedies and working out exactly which episodes of McLevy and Pilgrim I'd missed. The range is fantastic and I can't imagine that any radio fan would be stuck for choice. Downloading is straight forward and it was easy to get copies onto both my laptop and PC. There's some sort of points system going on but it's not very well explained and that really is the most negative thing I can say about AudioGO.

In case you're interested, my purchases so far have been:

• Giles Wemmbley-Hogg Glastonbury Special
  Genius, can't think that I've ever heard it repeated on 4Extra
• Giles Wemmbley-Hogg Geht Zum Fussballweltmeisterschaft Weg!
  I'll confess to copying that title, as above
• Red & Blue Series 1
  Very good, though the first episode remains the best in my opinion
• Avoid London, Area Closed, Turn On Radio
  An Mike Walker Afternoon Drama set around the 7/7 bombings.
• Coalition
  Interesting premise of a politian under pressure of blackmail
• Brief Lives Series 3
  Very welcome background listening ahead of the recent series, if only they had some of the earlier series
• Pilgrim Series 2
  And suddenly series three made much more sense
• And miscellaneous McLevy
  Excellent, as always

That said, there are some disappointing gaps in the catalogue. I'd love to see more early series of some things (Party Series 1!) but it's hard to complain in the face of such a fantastic range. Do yourself a favour and take a look, there will be something there that you'd like to hear again or missed the first time round. 

Oh, and did I mention? It's all at affordable price. What's not to love!

A Lifetime Ambition

Okay, not a lifetime but certainly over twenty years worth of ambition:

When I got an e-mail from the I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue mailing list on Thursday, I did a true double-take as I realised that Clue would be coming to Weston. Followed quickly by an e-mail out to my family to share the excitement. 

My initial plan was to be on the phone as the line opened at 10:00am but, fortunately, I decided to drive over and get tickets in person. Thanks to road closures for a marathon, I was a little later than I'd planned but I was still surprised by the length of the queue when I got there.

09:36

I was even more surprised when the theatre man told us that they were expecting seats to go so quickly that, although they'd do their best, some people in the queue probably wouldn't get tickets. It was a tense wait and, once the doors opened, all the successful early birds had to suffer our envious glares as they left clutching tickets.

My technologically-clued-in section of the queue were exploiting smart phones to their full potential. One man was ringing the box office, I alternated the phone and website, while another updated us on his wife's progress at home (we cheered every time she reported that the website timed out). The theatre staff kindly updated us on the number of tickets they'd sold and, very slowly, it became clear that we were probably going to be lucky.

Some grumpy queuers seemed to feel that everything was taking too long, my section quietly expressed the opinion that it was a very un-Radio-4 attitude and they should be ejected from the queue. We also plotted to cut the phone lines, let a dog into the manager's office to attack the electrics and further jam the phone lines every time we saw the kiosk staff come to the end of a call. 

Fortunately, in the end we didn't have to resort to dirty tricks and I'm now the proud owner of tickets to see I'm Sorry I Haven't a Clue! Perhaps the best thing I overheard while waiting was "I'm looking forward to finding out what gender Samantha is." I think someone's going to be disappointed...

Three Men In A Boat

When I was younger, I asked my mum what her favourite book was. I don't know what I expected the answer to be but "Three Men in a Boat" was a little perplexing. I'd never heard of it and I couldn't for the life of me imagine how a story about three men in a boat could possibly be as interesting as books about dragons and spaceships and adventures.

I'm sorry to say that I never made the effort to find out. So, when I saw that there was a Radio 4 Classic Serial version coming along, I knew I had to listen. Even more so when I found out that it starred Steve Punt, Hugh Dennis and Julian Rhind-Tutt <insert swoon>.

I truly laughed out loud when listening and I'd recommend giving it a go if you're similarly ignorant. Now I have to know how much of that is down to the dramatisation and how much to the original material. I may not have had the sense to take my mum's recommendation when I was little but Three Men in a Boat is definitely on my reading list now.

The News Quiz

Last year I was lucky enough to see recordings for a sketch show and two sit coms, previously I'd seen the Now Show but last night was my first panel game.

Back in November, despairing at my chances of getting Cabin Pressure tickets, I also applied for a News Quiz recording. Months passed, it was clear I'd got nowhere with Cabin Pressure and I forgot exactly what date I'd requested for the News Quiz. It fell completely out of my mind.

So when an email arrived from the BBC a couple of weeks ago, I assumed it must be one of the newsletters I'm subscribed to. One comedy double-take later I realised my mistake. So I found a hotel bargain and booked my train tickets.

I did a little research on the internet beforehand about how early the queue starts and my paranoia soon grew. I was lucky enough to have some company last night and my "get there before 6:30" advice soon changed to "the earlier the better".

At 5pm I joined the queue and, for about 15 minutes, the queue consisted of two of us. The BBC have made some changes and they now let people in a lot earlier than the time on the ticket, something I was exceedingly grateful for considering the temperature yesterday evening.

We were let in at 5:15 but I lost out on a number 2 sticker because they'll only sticker a ticket for people who have arrived. I lingered outside with a growing band of others waiting for sisters, husbands and friends.

There was some disagreement over how best to describe Portland Place (apparently "head towards Regents Park, look for the glass building framing a church spire" is no good, the better description is "the massive building lit with blue light") but, after convincing the security guard that I definitely didn't have anything sharp - no, not even keys - we were in.

Number 20 & 21!

The biggest difference between the News Quiz and everything else I've seen is that there were no retakes. None. Not the linking bits, not cuttings, nothing. The whole recording was long, we didn't finish until 9:15 and I'm very curious to see what's made it onto tonight's show.

The panelists were Jeremy Hardy, Mark Steel (who looked like he might be coming down with something), Katy Brand and Daniel Finkelstein. It was fantastic fun and everyone in the audience enjoyed themselves no end.

I know that News Quiz tickets aren't easy to get but it comes highly recommended. I fully support Mark Steel's proposal that there must be room in the digital spectrum for a sweary version of Radio 4. Now that I've seen the sweary version of the News Quiz I just don't want to go back.

Fasten Your Seatbelts

With the exception of the entry linked to from the BBC and another post that (for no good reason) became popular with comment spammers, my most successful blog post has been about John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme try-out show. While I'd love to imagine this was due to the fact that I'd composed a particularly interesting blog entry, or perhaps the entertaining quantities of gin I'd consumed when I wrote it, it's pretty clear that the key is in the words "John Finnemore". Cheesecake among strudels.

So it'd be remiss of me if I failed to point out something significant in the schedules this week: Series Four of Cabin Pressure begins tomorrow.

I won't go into details about the lengths I went to in an attempt to get tickets for a recording but, suffice it to say, the ticket unit might have frowned a little. Like the (very) vast number of applicants, I was unsuccessful so I'll have to content myself with enjoying it tomorrow at 6:30.

I'm not going to sing the praise of Cabin Pressure today. After all, many of you know me and have therefore received this lecture many, many times. All I will say is: if my highest recommendation and the prospect of an episode called "Timbuktu" doesn't incite you to listen then you are a lost cause.

Party

What are you doing on Wednesday night at 6:30? No, you can do that on Thursday. The correct answer is: listening to Party.

Last Wednesday night I went to see a recording of episode three and four of series three of Party, by Tom Basden for Radio 4. Now obviously I haven't heard the first episode, so I can't absolutely guarantee you that it's going to be as fantastic, funny and sharp as the second two episodes but I would put money on it. Quite a bit of money.

As I mentioned before, I have somehow managed to miss Party on Radio 4 so I bought series 2 from iTunes before going to the recording. I knew it was funny but I really wasn't expecting to be laughing almost constantly throughout the entire recording. Tom Basden is a really good writer. Not only are the episodes very funny but they're also just a single thirty-minute scene. And that's not only clever but also very impressive.

Earlier in the year I went to see Old Harry's Game and it was funny. I laughed. But Party is funny and I couldn't stop laughing. I know that I've highly recommended a lot of stuff in the past but Party is well worth listening to.

Oh, and you should know: when the third episode is aired, Jonny Sweet is actually eating Jacob's Cream Crackers. And he didn't even sneak a drink. Plus, Tim Key attempted the splits (though I'll be honest, the crackers were more impressive).

And, if you really are busy at 6:30 on Wednesday, then Party is going to be the Comedy of the Week Podcast. So you really have no excuse not to listen.

Radio: 1, Knitting: 1

Last night radio won a decisive victory over knitting when my wool and needles were confiscated by BBC security guards. Fortunately I remembered to retrieve them at the end of the night. I joined women who had brought a pair of scissors and two forks in the oddest ever walk of shame.

I had confidently insisted to my friend that we should aim to get to Portland Place for 6 and that we should expect a queue. We got there at 6 and there was no queue. In fact, we were let in immediately and took full advantage of the quite bar and our choice of seats in the cafe.

I'm not going to say anything on the subject of what the recording of Party was like because it really does deserve its own post.

So instead I shall end with this proof that the early bird both catches the worm and gets a latte too:

Radio 404: Not Found

I'm not sure how this keeps happening but it's time for another trip to London, this time it's thanks to a conference that should be both interesting and informative. It also happens to start at 9am which is far too early for me to travel up in the morning. One of my friends is in the same position so we'll be going up the night before because the alternative is a 04:30 start and still missing the first half hour of the conference, which is something that no one wants to see.

As you'd expect of me, I checked the BBC ticket site for recordings that evening. Most of September is already fully booked but there was one recording on the night that we'll be there: Party.

My brain did something a little unexpected and I got the mental equivalent of a radio 404 error. I've never heard of Party, that's odd. Is it new? Nope, it's the third series being recorded. Have I just got confused and is it actually The Party Line, The Party Party or one of the other political comedies with the word 'party' in their titles? Nope.

Now I don't claim to be an expert and I don't imagine that I've heard every radio comedy broadcast in the last few years. But I was a little surprised. I was even more surprised when I mentioned it to my friend and he said "The one where they're students? That's really funny! Well, I think it is. It's quite funny. I think."

I know I've written before about the difficulty of recommending comedies to other people but this is the first time I've been on the receiving end. The more we talked about going to the recording, the less certain my friend was about how funny Party really was. I've done exactly the same thing. There are a couple of things that I'm absolutely certain are funny and would insist that everyone should hear but there are all too many programmes that are obviously hilarious to me but are completely lost on others.

Fortunately, I have faith in my friend's taste (even though he doesn't get Bleak Expectations for some reason). So we've applied for tickets, received tickets and now we're taking a half day so we can travel up to London and get in the queue at a reasonable time. After complaining at the start of the year that I couldn't get to see the Now Show this will be my third recording of 2012. I feel more than a little greedy.

As I'm going to a recording, I thought it was only sensible to have some idea of what the plot is, so I've bought series two of Party from iTunes (Why not series 1? Ask iTunes). Fortunately, it turns out that my friend is right and it is funny. Really very funny.

Do You Know Who Wrote This?

Well, of course you do. I have an entire page explaining who I am.

Even if Do You Know Who Wrote This? hadn't been trailed in every spare minute of Radio 4's broadcasting last week, I think I'd have made an effort to catch it. The play looks at online identities and the anonymity that people hide behind when they use forums, chat sites and social networking. Ten years ago I think that would have been a fairly niche audience but the explosion of social networking in the last decade has brought to the fore a lot of issues that were previously the territory of small, cliquey groups of geeks. I mean, I've even heard the word "trolling" used on Today. Not used correctly but it's a start.

I know a little about this subject because, for several years, I worked as an online moderator for a reasonably large American company. I spent my evenings patrolling discussion forums in search of the sorts of comments that no one wants their children exposed to. I've seen my share of spam attacks, "inappropriate content", flame wars and trolling. More trolling than you could possibly imagine.

The number of people who used their real names on the forum was probably close to a dozen, out of many thousands. It just wasn't done. Not by the members and not by the moderators either. Even when I left I didn't reveal my real name, all the users ever knew about me was that I was female and European. Anonymity was an essential tool to how we worked and an essential component to the discussions that went on, not so much because people wanted to hide their personality but because those real life names had no relevance to the world we were in.

It may sound like a lot of people hiding behind aliases but it was anything but. When people post under a name that has no gender, age, race or nationality attached to it then the responses are based on the content of that post, not the preconceptions that might go along with that name.

Using an alias to shield bad behaviour is a short term thing. If you're in a true community, with active members and an expectation of reasonable discussion then the reputation of your username is as important as the reputation of your real name. Strong communities are self-policing because they have a social code that's equivalent to those we have in real life. If you flame others then people won't take you seriously. It's irrelevant whether that name can be connected back to a real identity because your online presence will be discredited among your peers.

We should aspire to communicate in communities where content is key. A person's opinions, self-expression and online behaviour is what matters. The actual identity of the person typing the keys should be the least relevant of all things. If what you're saying is worth saying then people will respect you for it, regardless of the name that you use.

The play did a good (and funny) job of exploring the reach of our online interactions and the chaos that absolute truth might bring about. But I think it's worth pointing out that, in a strong community with clearly defined ground rules, flaming and trolling isn't an inevitable consequence of anonymity.

Which brings me back to my original point: do you know who wrote this?

Yes, because I made a concerted decision to write this blog under my own name and not an alias. I believe that if I'm going to post my opinions about things, especially if those things are creative works by people who might not agree with my opinions, that I should do that under my own name. I realise it may sound hypocritical when I've just defended anonymity but, for as long as the patterns and programmes I post about have a real name behind them, I think they deserve a real name in return.

The Chrysalids

Well, this is  my one-hundredth post. No one is more surprised than me, I didn't imagine that I'd manage to keep this up past four or five. No comments about how photos of yarn or random things don't count.

Anyway. A few months ago we were discussing books in work. I'm pretty devoted to my books. I'm far too over-protective about the condition of the covers, I don't lend them to anyone and the idea that I might get rid of a book once I'd read it is utterly unthinkable. The person I was talking to is the complete opposite and the argument he put forward was: "You only read 1000 books in your life time, why would you go back to the same book twice?"

At the time, I couldn't clearly frame my reasons for reading some books over and over. It's easy enough to try to make an analogy like, "You watch films more than once" or "You go back to the places that you enjoy more than once". But it's more than that. Reading is an experience that depends as much upon the reader as the book. I return to books because, although they may be the same, I'm not.

I don't return to every book but there are three or four that I go back to every few years and one of these is The Chrysalids, a novel by John Wyndham that was dramatised on Radio 4 a couple of weeks ago (sorry, it's already fallen off iplayer). It's the story of a young man with telepathic-like powers in a world that fears and punishes any difference from the norm.

I'm not sure exactly how old I was when I first read it but I was probably around eleven. It wasn't the first book for adults that I'd read but it was the first time that I read a book and realised that, while I enjoyed it, I was only seeing one facet of the story. To an eleven year old girl, it's an adventure story about a boy with special powers who works with his friends to escape the dangers of their village. But every time I've re-read the book, I've found something more in it. As a teenager it was a story about not fitting in. As an adult it's a story about the terrible things that people can do when they believe that they're right.

There was an adaptation of the Chrysalids in 1981, broadcast in the last year on 4 Extra but it felt like a dramatisation of my eleven-year-old understanding of the book. The recent two-hour version captured the atmosphere of fear, paranoia and secrecy that I came to recognise in the book as I grew older.

With a core set of characters that are children growing to young adults, it'd be easy to concentrate on these aspects but the play focused on the implications of their 'deviations' and the tyranny of the society that feared them. Obviously there's a lot of detail that is missing from any adaptation but it didn't feel missing. Despite knowing every inch of the plot I still thoroughly enjoyed the play.

Representing their thought-shapes into words over the radio is bound to be a bit of a simplification but it was well handled. Just confusing and noisy enough to remind us that it's not exactly words but clear enough to be clearly understood. The overall effect was to draw you into their world and drive home the uniquely close relationships between main characters as they shared their thoughts and feelings. Something that definitely passed me by when I first discovered the boo

I'd recommend listening to The Chrsysalids if it's broadcast again. And if not then I'd recommend the book, regardless of your age. It's a story that will grow with you.

Helympics

Turns out I was a bit too pessimistic about yesterday's Old Harry's Game recording:

128 meant I got to sit downstairs and - in one of the rare situations where going somewhere alone is an advantage - I got tacked on the end of a row a bit further up than the rest of the 120 - 150 sticker group. 

The staff organising the seating on Sunday were a bit clearer and more rigid in their queuing system but there was still no shortage of very polite, Radio 4 style loitering going on. Imagine 250 people in a small space, all of whom desperately want to get a good seat but not at the expense of being seen as pushy or getting in anyones way. Thank goodness for organised studio staff with microphones.

I hadn't thought before about the differences between seeing a sketch show and seeing a full half-hour comedy (or rather, two of them) but it was a very different experience. Is it ridiculous that I found myself wanting to shut my eyes and just listen? Considering I'd travelled to London specially, probably yes. But there's something odd about seeing the actors stepping out of scenes to sit down when they don't have lines for a while - however practical it is - that messes with my suspension of disbelief.

I think I have pretty good suspension of disbelief. I'm basically extremely gullible. Go on, try me, I'll believe just about anything up to a point. But, strong as my suspension of disbelief is, it's also extremely fragile and once that point is reached there's no going back. I can't enjoy certain parts of The Lord of the Rings films because I accidentally saw a bit of the extras that included footage of Fangorn Forest. Now my brain knows that it's a set so I see a set. This is why I never watch special features on DVDs. Ever.

Although I'm looking forward to hearing John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme broadcast (1. there's a whole other recording's worth that I've not heard; 2. I will finally get the insomnia song out of my head) I think I may be looking forward to Old Harry's Game more. Although I've heard the complete two episodes, which are broadcast Thursday 12th & 19th, I need to know whether I'll enjoy it for what it is or whether I've blown my suspension of disbelief entirely. If I have, it doesn't matter. It'll come back. Because I finally know what Jimmy Mulville looks like and he looks nothing like the Thomas I've got in my head.

Andy Hamilton closed the recording with a tribute to James Grout, who died this week. Brilliant as Annette Crosbie is, James Grout's voice was something else entirely. I think the whole audience felt privileged to give him the tribute of a round of applause.

Punctuality II

Once again I'm in the queue outside the BBC and once again I've got my timing wrong. Although I'm a good half hour earlier than yesterday, the queue is already back to the corner. I wonder just how early this queue starts.
Although I'm closer to the start, I think the queue is more densely packed so I'm going to predict sticker number 202. And a long line for the bar once we're in.

Things I Have Learned II

Things I've learned today:
1) if you want to go to a radio recording, go early
2) the radio theater is really quite big
3) John Finnemore has shoes that make his feet look long. Or long feet. Not sure which.
4) the Jubilee Line has travelators!
5) even in the age of ipads, radio scripts are still paper
6) when I tipsily said back in April that you should listen to John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme because it'd be funny, I was right. You should and it is.

Punctuality

As I type this on my irritatingly small phone keyboard, I'm looking out over a massive pit of BBC workstations at Broadcasting House. The canteen area in which audiences wait before radio recordings has a wall with glass windows and, no matter how often I've seen this sort of thing on TV, it's still weird to see it in real life. It's like the secret lair of a bond villain, complete with odd tracks just outside the window for equipment to go back and forth.

Why am I here? Because I was lucky enough to get tickets for the recording of John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme. Happy as I was to get that confirmation e-mail, it's got nothing on the relief I felt when I got a little sticker on my e-ticket 20 minutes ago.

The advice that the ticket unit gives you is: "admission on site 6.15, studio doors open from 7:15". What they don't tell you is that, of you turn up at 6.20, the queue will already be right the way round the corner of the building and the people all around you will already be joking about getting turned away in an "I'm not going to admit just how bothered I'll be if I'm turned away" sort of tone.

Fifteen nerve-racking minutes later and I was in.

I'm now in a very informal queue that seems to have formed just because a couple of people went to stand by the doors. I'm not sure that we even know that they're the right doors but no one is going to miss out on a good seat for the sake of a little extra queueing.

I don't know if things have just changed a lot since the last time I went to a recording or if this is the John Finnemore effect. I've seen one girl in a pilots jacket so I suspect the latter.

+1 Fanbase

Like all people who are a little too interested in something, I have an irresistable urge to try to convert others.

This applies equally to knitting and to radio. I can't count the number of conversations I've had on the bus or in the office that include: "Have you been on Ravelry? Oh you must! It's like Facebook but for knitting." And, regardless of whether they're looking intregued or bewildered, I generally go on at length about how inspiring it it and how wonderful the free patterns are.

I'm taking an evening class at the moment and a few weeks ago the conversation turned to radio drama. I'm not sure why I felt personally offended when someone described it as "very much aimed at its audience", especially as that's a particularly irrational critisism, but I felt the need to passionately defend radio drama. And comedy. And radio in general. Until people started giving me the "Okay, shut up now," look that I'm quite familiar with.

Over the last few months I've been trying to convert a couple of people at work to the joys of radio listening. Oh, they already listen to Radio 4, but in the sort of hap-hazard way that I feel can only the result of insufficient dedication rather than a very sensible choice to just do more interesting things with their time. 

Also, as I mentioned some time ago, my brother-in-law told me that he'd quite like to listen to more radio comedy. Although I've had mixed success with my colleagues (leading to some random conversations on the subject of Yes Minister), I was thrilled when one of the first things my brother-in-law said to me this week was "I've been listening to Cabin Pressure". We then did a bit too much quoting and laughing about lemons and Birling Day. 

It turns out that the only thing better than enjoying a programme is talking to someone else who also enjoys it. Especially when that person can do a rather good impression of Douglas's tone of voice when delivering put-downs.

So that's +1 to the "Radio Appreciators" list. Okay, it took a couple of months and I'm still working on my colleagues but, eventually, a time may come when everyone I know has been converted to a radio listener. Or to knitting. I'm not bothered which.

Balance

I've been busy this week. And last week. And I'll be busy next week. And the week after. In fact, I'm starting to look at November with a fond longing and a rose-tinted vision of a month filled with calm days, quiet evenings and free time.

For the last month I've been mentally penning a letter to Feedback.  Why, oh why, oh why... can't I find a concise way of explaining my complaint.

Hmmm. I actually just typed out a draft version and it was by far the most boring thing I've ever written. And I include university coursework on telescopes in that comparison.

This is going to sound a lot more rant-like than it really is but here's the basis of my issue :
I applied for tickets to the Now Show. It was made extremely clear that it was a random ballot. It would really have helped if they'd said when people would know by or, at least, how they would hear. But at least I wasn't really expecting anything to come of it.

What I did learn is that, if you're successful, you find out at least two weeks before the show. The problem is, two weeks isn't a lot of time when it comes to booking train tickets and hotels. 

Then I applied for tickets to Old Harry's Game and John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme (added benefit: I can now spell "souvenir"). The process was the same but, as there was no mention of a random ballot, I hoped that I would get tickets if I got in before it went to "Fully Booked".

I waited.
John Finnemore's Souvenir Programme booked up.
I waited.
I waited.
I concluded that I probably wasn't getting tickets.
I waited.
Yesterday I got an e-mail for Old Harry's Game on the same day that it booked up.
I was happily excitement to see Old Harry's Game.
I was vaguely confusion about the ticketing system.
Logically, I concluded that I wasn't getting tickets for John Finnemore because I'd have had an e-mail.
I decided it was time to find something else to do on Saturday night or change my plans and just go up for the Sunday.

This afternoon, I got an e-mail to confirm that I've got a ticket for John Finnemore too!

Now, the reason this post is called Balance is down to the fact that I got the e-mail ten minutes after learning that my car had (terminally) failed its MOT. After bad news, on an rubbish day in work, that's part of a busy week in a gloomy month, that was pretty much exactly what I wanted to see in my inbox.

So, although I have a bit of a complaint (which really just amounts to: if you can e-mail me confirmation for my application, why can't you e-mail me to say I don't have tickets? And two weeks notice isn't a lot of time to book trains and hotels) it's balanced by an even bigger thank you. Thank you, BBC ticket unit, you saved up a bit of good news for when I needed it.

Unfortunately I have the nagging feeling that, as I now have to buy a car, I probably shouldn't be spending my money on frivolous trips to London. However, I am choosing to ignore this feeling. Instead I am taking the "compared to a car, what's a trip to London?" approach.

Oh, and if anyone wants a 2001 Corsa, let me know. It's green, generally reliable and would suit someone with spare steering column.