Hello schnorrers. I’ve restrained myself from doing another one-size-fits-all podcast, today because there is a feeling among my production team that I’m doing too many. People are falling three or four episodes behind, I’m told, with the danger that the many topical references leavening the general hilarity will become stale.
So to avoid boring you to tears with more Peter Mandelson/Erin Patterson (blimey, forgotten her already?)/Angela Rayner/Titanic/Luncheon Voucher/Edgar Bergen references, I am staying away from the mic for a couple of days.
I was hoping to find an old Guardian or Independent piece to fill a gap, having been told by someone at the Pennine Radio reunion I went to on Sunday that they still kept a yellowing cutting of a column I wrote years about Dave Lee Travis leaving his Radio One Show, which they thought was pretty funny.
Sadly, I couldn’t find it, and to exacerbate my general listlessness, I lost an hour or two in the search to clips of Jiminy Glick’s interviews (it’s Martin Short in a fat suit, and hilarious). Nobody should spend their days like that.
I’m beginning to regret my decision not to take up golf, or maybe develop some practical skills which would enable me to spend these retirement days like one of those guys on the Repair Shop, although not the one who got into trouble for whatever it was he did.
I did notice by the way that while my roster of paying customers rose very slightly this week, the schnorrers register fell from 699 to 695. That’s four people who weren’t even paying for the wretched thing, unsubscribing. It was costing them nothing, they needn’t ever have listened to or read anything I ever recorded or wrote ever. But they felt that strongly about it, they unsubscribed.
And you wonder why I’m going through an existential crisis.
