成人快手

I'm having a belated Easter break this week and using the time to catch up on some of the many programmes we've aired over the past six months. Producers tend to send me CD copies of everything so I now have my own personal audio library. Alas, most of it sits on the back seat of my car.

Today I was listening to Lucy Harland's programmes on the life and works of Thomas Telford - The Man Who Changed Scotland. It inspired me to suggest a Zed family outing along the Caledonian Canal. We parked the car at and watched as two big Jacobite Cruisers made their through the Lock. The whole waterway - from Fort William to Inverness - really is a fantastic feat of engineering and leaves you wondering why we don't have the same level of ambition today. Dualling the A9 anyone?

I took some photographs and linked them to a short extract from the programme and you can see and hear the end result on our site. Just click on the image below.

I love coming across little pieces of history in the most unexpected places. Today, for example, I was in Harbour Road in Inverness - home to every kind of car dealership known to humankind - and was investing big money in a new set of windscreen wipers. Well that certainly wiped the smiles off the new car salesmen.

On the way home, I found myself driving through the real industrial heart of the city where cement works jostle for space next to the oil terminal. Then, in the middle of all this bleak modernity, there was a little clock tower which turned out to be the remaining part of a seventeenth century citadel.

The citadel - or fort - had been built by forces and, for ten years, was home his English troops who were charged with quelling any potential uprising by pro-Royalty clans. The citadel had been built in the shape of a pentangle - a military pentagon - but was to pieces when the English garrison moved out and the Monarchy was restored.

All that's left is this little tower.

There was a week during my first year of secondary school when I became incredibly popular with other pupils. It was all thanks to a letter from the 成人快手 in London. It was a letter I carried with me in my Adidas sports bag for three days until it somehow happened to find its way onto my desk and then into the hands of my registration teacher. He, with my permission, pulled it from its 成人快手 branded envelope and read it alound to the rest of the class.

"Dear Jeffrey, " it began, "Thank you for your interest in this year's 成人快手 Young Film-Maker's Competition. I have pleasure in enclosing the application form together with the terms and conditions of entry..."

Well that was it. For one week I was a would-be film director and, realising I would have to furnish further proof of my intent, I brought in my wind-up 8mm cine camera (no sound) and the first draft of my shooting script. My screenplay dealt with a gang turf-war in . My classmates began to bomard me with requests for a part in the movie and I made cast selections based on the potential for violent retribution posed by anyone that I should refuse. The film, however, was never made. I soon realised I had neither the equipment, the know-how nor the funds to make progress. My week of glory flickered and died.

These memories came flooding back to me today when I took the Zedettes up to the multi-screen cinema at Inverness Retail Park where we watched It's a great little movie and centres on the efforts of two mis-matched friends to make their own version of the Rambo movie and enter that self-same 成人快手 Young Filmaker's Competition. It's set in the early 1980's when school staffrooms were clouded by cigarette smoke and local picture houses still had curtains that slid across the silver screen just as the main feature was starting.

The magic of the movies! Yet things seems so much brighter and better in modern multiplex cinemas. Except that today's screen of Son of Rambow was slighlty out of focus for the entire duration of the film, despite my complaint to a very official looking man with a walkie-talkie. Oh and don't ask me about my Kafka-esque conversation at the coffee counter in which my repeated request for either a cappuccino, or a latte or an americano were met with the same response: "I'm not sure."

Oh the frustrations of being a grown-up!

One of the perks of my job is that I get to listen to a good many of our programmes well before they are actually put on the air. One such is Frozen, the latest in our monthly drama offerings.

I have to say it tickled my fancy for a number of reasons, not least that it deals with the topic of cryogenics...which has been a comedic gold mine for the likes of Matt Groening's Woody Allen in and Mike Myers in the movies.

Frozen - which we're trailing now in advance of its transmission on Monday - also has a few good funny lines. Well, when a man decided to have his head frozen in the hope of future revival you can imagine how that might go down in a small island community.

"They're calling us the Cornettos!" complains the long-suffering wife of the play's main character.

But the play is actually a thought-provoking piece and ultimately provides a touching twist on the theme of bereavement.

But don't take my word for it.

P.S. The play has also inspired in the Herald newspaper.

My Uncle Jimmy (long gone) used to talk about the time he met the King. It was during the war, when he was in uniform and on parade, and the King actually shook his hand.

"Not that it ever did me any good," Uncle Jimmy would say. This was the way he always finished that story. I suppose he was proud to have met the reigning monarch and to have actually pressed the Royal flesh, but he didn't want us to think he was boasting. I suppose he got his payoff line in before anyone had time to ask him: "So, you shook hands with the King. What good did that ever do you?"

Today I met the Princess Royal. Her Royal Highness, Princess Anne, as was. I actually shook her gloved hand. I even smiled when she made an amusing little remark about the Squinty Bridge. But mostly, I just stood there, waiting.

I had been invited to the opening of the SenseScotland Touchbase centre in Kinning Park. It's a fantastic facility and 成人快手 Children In Need provided some of the cash to help deaf-blind children there. There was a colourful display of music and dance staged by the children and their tutors. There was also a moving speech by one of the parents - a dad - who spoke about his own sense of pride in watching his child become part of a community and actually achieve things.

The Princess Royal joined in the applause and unveiled a plaque. As she began a tour of the building a select crowd of us were invited to a suite upstairs where we were grouped into little colour-coded horseshoes of eight people and were instructed on how we should greet the Queen's only daughter when she was introduced to us. This, as I recall, involved a slight nod of the head.

I put down my flute of orange juice and wiped canape crumbs from my mouth and then found my place in the horseshoe. I was standing next to a woman whose name-tag suggested she was the Duchess of Sutherland. For the life of my I couldn't think of any small talk that didn't involve the Highland Clearances so I said nothing.

Soon there was a flurry of activity in the corridor. Two security men came into view wearing those ear-pieces that are connected by a thick loop of white cable.
You just knew they weren't listening to their iPods.



Then came the Princess. Very slender and wearing wooly, tweedy ensemble just like you always see her on the telly. Hair tied back in a bun. Big, curious eyes. You were supposed to wait until you were introduced before shaking her hand but somehow she got a little ahead of her host and was suddently staring at my name-tag and looking at me as if to say "who let you in?". I shook her glove and mumbled a hello and then smiled and nodded as she talked about the location of the TouchBase and the relative merits of a city centre location versus somewhere on the outskirst of town. My colleague Fraser Falconer said something very informative about the proximity of the Underground station, but somehow I doubted the Princess would ever need to know that.

She, in turn, said something witty about the Squinty Bridge. I didn't quite catch exactly what she said but I know it was witty because everyone around me started guffawing. I guffawed too. Then, she was gone...and so was I.

My Uncle Jimmy would have been impressed.

It's just after midnight and I'm in Galway in the west of Ireland. I'm part of the 成人快手 Scotland contingent attending this year's al. In a few hours from now I'll actually be on stage as one of the platform speakers discussing the growth of independent production in radio. I'm told that session will be in vision on the .

We flew from Prestwick Airport to Shannon and then hired a car for the 45 minute drive to Galway. The landscape reminded us of Stirlingshire...mostly flat but with hills in the distance. More advertising hoardings than you see at home....some of the villages we passed through looked slightly American in that regard. Here everything is almost as it is in Scotland but not quite. We exchanged pounds for Euros, the chocolate bars are smaller and the news agenda on TV is dominated by stories and characters of which we know little or nothing.

In the car we listened to the Old Firm match via 成人快手 Five Live. The signal was strong at first but began to fade as we moved westwards. Now it feels like we're far from home.

We reached Galway as the sun was setting on the bay. I'm sure there's a song about that.

More later.

One good thing about being on stage at this festival is that people get to know who you are a lot faster. I was on the panel talking about independent production for public service radio stations. I hadn't realised that we in Scotland are so far ahead of the game when it comes to this kind of thing. Seventeen year ahead of the game, in fact.

The session seemed to go well and afterwards I was invited to join my fellow panelists at the bar of the Raddison hotel. One drink became two then there were more new faces, more handshakes and before I knew it, I was part of a small gang of Irish media trypes that was straggling through the streets of downtown Galway in search of a resturant.

The centre of town has a very continental air about - almost French. I was told that it's one of the big tourist destinations in Ireland.

"People come to Dublin, drive to Galway and then go home."

It also seems to have its own bohemian/hippie quarter and, in that respect, it reminded me a little of Provincetown in New England.



Good food, good conversation and I must have answered a hundred questions about my Polish ancestry.

"We didn't expect you to have a Scottish accent," said one of my new friends. Yes, it's funny how people make assumptions based on a name.

One thing I noticed is that radio seems to play a much bigger part in the culture of Ireland than it does in Scotland or England. That may be changing because of the influence of television, but not very fast.

I like it here. I think I'll stay another night.

Two bits of good news for 成人快手 Scotland here at the Celtic Media Festival in Galway. Our Gaelic sports reporter Derek Murray has scooped the prize for best radio personality and producer/director Lindsay Hill won the current affairs award for her programme Tales From The Edge.

I was especially pleased for Lindsay. She's an old friend and many years ago we worked together during the early days of digital television. She presented a programme called Late Flyte.

She's a genuinely modest person who works like a one-woman production unit making television documentaries with a single camera. She told me she had no expectation of winning but, at the last minute, thought she had better cut her fringe just in case she had to make a speech. She borrowed a pair of sticky paper scissors from the hotel reception desk and spent a frustrating ten minutes in front of the mirror trying to get the blades to move.

I'm sure that's exactly what Hollywood stars do just before they step up to receive an Oscar.

I ordered a taxi to Galway airport but had no idea how much that would cost. Fearing I might be caught short of Euros I asked the driver to give me an estimate before we set off.

鈥淭hat really depends on the mood I鈥檓 in," he told me, 鈥渁nd, to be frank, how nice you are to me on the journey.鈥�

This struck me as a kind of spooky thing to say and I glanced sideways to make sure that Robert De Niro wasn't at the wheel. We eventually agreed that the fare would be well under twenty Euros. Making an effort to be 鈥渘ice鈥� I told him I was heading for Inverness via Luton.

鈥淲hy in God鈥檚 name would you want to go to Inverness?鈥�

鈥淲ell, that鈥檚 where I live.鈥�

鈥淥h I suppose we all have our crosses to bear.鈥�

He asked me what football team I supported. Inverness Caledonian Thistle, of course.

鈥淲hat鈥檚 the point in that?鈥� he asked.

I explained there was a certain thrill to be had in turning up at a game not knowing what kind of score line tragedy might befall us. He smiled for the first time and agreed that was true. He told me he had once supported Millwall in the days when he lived in England and when the team tactics involved booting everyone else off the park.

鈥淭hey were the only fans who would arrive at away games with tools鈥o that they could dismantle the seats and thrown them at people.鈥�

After that he had gone to work in America but now he was in Galway and bored with the whole taxi business.

鈥淭o be honest if I have to drive to this airport one more time I think I鈥檒l just crack up.鈥�

As we parked outside the tiny terminal building I gave him my twenty Euro note and told him I felt lucky that I was his current passenger and not his next one.

鈥淵es鈥ecause he鈥檒l be my last one.鈥�

I鈥檓 not sure he was joking.

Nine weeks - count them - nine weeks from today the refurbishment of the 成人快手 building in Inverness will be complete. At that point my life will change for the better. Once again I'll have a desk and chair to call my own. Once again I'll be able to hold meetings without having to embark on a three-and-a-half-hour train journey to Glasgow. I'll be able to reaquaint myself with my wife and children. No longer will they think of me as that strange bloke they pass in the hallway pulling a suitcase on wheels. The Wheely Dad, they call me. I'll be able to eat more wholseome home-cooked meals and sever my relationship with the First ScotRail catering trolley. Nine weeks and counting.

This good news came from my boss, Donalda MacKinnon, when she arrived in Inverness this morning to chair a staff meeting. Of course she said lots of other important stuff too. Stuff about programmes and the future strategy of the 成人快手. But my mind kept drifting back to that promised date at the end of June when the builders would stop their hammering and the doors would open on our new workplace.

Of course there will be a downside too. I'll have to abandon my collection of courtesy toileries from hotel bathrooms. I never did find a use for those little boxed shower caps but perhaps I'll wear them all at the next school parents' night. Just to get revenge for that Wheely Dad stuff.

Nine weeks...and counting.

My continued efforts to avoid spending every Wednesday night in a Glasgow pub led me to to accept an invitation from my old alma mater. Brian Wilson, the former Labour minister, was giving his inaugral lecture as visiting Professor at Glasgow Caledonian University. He was talking about the decline of the Scottish newspaper industry, which is also the subject of a forthcoming edition of 成人快手 Radio Scotland's Investigation series.

It was the first time I had been back on the Cowcaddens campus since I graduated in 1987. I then travelled to University College Cardiff for the postgraduate diploma in journalism. As it turned out, Brian Wilson had been one of the first sixteen students on that same course.

For someone who has such an obvious love affair with newspapers it was refreshing to hear him talk in positive terms about the growth of internet news providers and even bloggers. But he was clearly worried about the eventual fate of the Scottish press. Some industry figures have predicted that the Herald and the Scotsman will both be defunct within ten years. I was sitting next to Vicky Nash, the Director of Ofcom in Scotland, who pointed out that everyone seemed concerned about this issue, but no one seemed to be coming up with many solutions. Professor Wilson rejected the idea of a Government sponsored commission to examine the issue.

The lecture was received warmly and I loved the pay-off story about his school sex education lesson. This, he said, was delivered by a very mysterious woman who told students that if a girl sits on a boy's knee there should always be a newspaper between them.

That, said Brian, was when he first became interested in newspapers.

Inspired by my recent experiences at the Celtic Media Festival, I flew to Belfast this morning for a collaborative chin-wag with Susan Lovell. She鈥檚 my opposite number at 成人快手 Radio Ulster. There鈥檚 no messing about with Susan. I had barely peeled off my coat when she guiding me to a table around which she had gathered her senior team. We talked for an hour. Music programmes seemed to offer the most obvious opportunities for co-operation. The Celtic Connections Festival in Glasgow, for example, is a big hit with the 成人快手 Radio Ulster audience. We also discussed pipe music, folk, jazz and, well, everything save the kind of thing you used to see buskers do with a paper and comb.

Susan flashed through the agenda with the air of a woman who believes the office walls will close in on us if we linger beyond our allotted time. Actually, that鈥檚 not a bad idea for 成人快手 meetings. In fact she had a taxi waiting to take both of us to meet another of her colleague鈥檚 who was waiting in a trendy restaurant near Queen鈥檚 University. This part of the city looked, to my eye, to be an upmarket area but Susan鈥檚 colleague told me that it was getting a reputation for disorder.

鈥淧eople have been known to just walk into someone else鈥檚 flat and fall asleep in a stranger鈥檚 bedroom!鈥�

鈥淲ell,鈥� I said, 鈥淲ho among us hasn鈥檛 done that?鈥�

鈥淵es鈥ut in our student days.鈥�

鈥淣o, I was thinking about last week.鈥�

An hour later I was in a taxi heading for Belfast City Airport. The driver told me he was a big fan of 成人快手 Radio Scotland, but only at weekends when he listened to the football coverage.

鈥淪cottish teams have such wonderful names,鈥� he told me, 鈥淗amilton Academicals, Queen of the South, Inverness Caledonian Thistle鈥h there鈥檚 nothing like that here.鈥�

But it鈥檚 the Irish who have the real way with words. Even the airport information screens had a poetic quality to them. They didn鈥檛 just tell you if a flight was delayed or on time, not, they also offered a lifestyle choice.

鈥淩elax and shop鈥� said the screens.

So I did.

This afternoon the Zed family (plus dog) went for a walk in the woods and stumbled upon the tallest tree in the U.K. It's smack in the middle of one of those Forestry Walks near Kirkhill, a few miles outside Inverness on the road to Beauly. It's actually called the Tall Trees walk, which should have given us a clue that we were likely to see some big things...but who knew that the actual tallest tree in the U.K. was just a few miles from home? Not me. I mean, it's not the sort of thing you look up.

But then I had to go and spoil this wonderful moment for myself by thinking about it too much. I mean...how do they know it's the tallest tree? Do they have squads of people checking these things on a regular basis? Can they now measure trees from space? Are lasers involved?



I had my Blackberry with me and was about to do a Google search on this puzzle when Mrs Zed realised she could use that very same device to update her on the Celtic-Rangers scoreline. So that was that.

I wandered off down the track with the dog and another puzzle presented itself to me. How come he gets better haircuts than me?

There's an article in this morning -and also on - about our plans for the future. By future I mean next week. That's when we'll be refreshing the 成人快手 Radio Scotland schedule, introducing our new signature music and launching our new online audio streams - or zones.

We'll have a new business programme on Sundays, more new drama, more editions of the Investigation and fewer feature repeats in the daytime schedule.
Bryan Burnett's Get It On programme will be extended and - further down the line, we have new music programmes from the likes of Julie Fowlis.

So far the reporters I've spoken to have been most interested in , although these are a work in progress. In simple terms it involves stacking content around partcular themes. We've deiced on five such themes to begin with: Celtic, Comedy, History, New Music and Arts, Jazz & Classical. We'll launch one a day from next week each will be available online for a week.

A few weeks later these will become stand-alone audio streams, able to be received via Macs, PCs and internet radios as a continuous loop...almost, but not quite, like mini radio stations. It should make it easier for listeners to find the kind of content they are most interested in

And over the course of the summer these audio streams will find a home in our various online portals and so will be augmented with visual content - videos, slideshows - and written pieces relevant to different programmes. Look out also for forthcoming improvement to the 成人快手's iPlayer which will make it very easy to find particular programmes from any 成人快手 radio network, including 成人快手 Radio Scotland.

It's a lot to get over and our publicity department has been lining up different interviews for me. They also decided I needed a new official 成人快手 photograph to go with that. A couple of weeks ago Suzanne Vickers, from the 成人快手 Scotland Press Office, told me she had lined up the brilliant to take these.

"Great, " I said, "just give me plenty of notice so that I can get a decent haircut and lose some weight."

"That's a deal," she said, "You have four hours...he's taking the photographs this afternoon."

Don't blame the photographer. Look what he has to work with.