Ö÷²¥´óÐã

The start of British Summer Time and just three layers of clothing required for this afternoon's trip to the seaside. That included anoraks, of course.

The picnic benches at Rosemarkie were remarkably busy so went spent just fifteen minutes devouring everything in our carrier bag and then pushed on to , that almost picturesque little town that lies at the northern-eastern tip of the Black Isle (which is actually a penisula of course). I say "almost picturesque" because its many charms include quaint antique shops, Hugh Miller's cottage and the Courthouse Musuem. Then again the views out to the firth are dominated by the industry at Nigg, the sheltering oil platform and even a waste skip on the waterfront with the words "dangerous asbestos" emblazoned on the side.

The thing that impressed me most about Cromarty, however, was the obvious determination of locals to ride out the credit crunch as the happiest, fittest and most musical people in Scotland. Witness the posters on the side of the Victoria Hall. One described sessions of 'Musical Medicine' and how communal singing could improve health and well-being. Another advertised a forthcoming 'Laughter Class'.

Physical fitness is taken care of in the nearby Xerscape park in which robust outdoor versions of exercise equipment is made available free of charge to anyone who doesn't fancy stumping up the cost of gym membership.

Just wait until Duncan Bannantyne hears about this!

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• - What's this?

Last night I took my children on board the S.S. American for two hours of music and laughter with stowaways and gangsters. Mrs. Zed, meanwhile, stayed home listening to our commentary of Scotland's three nil defeat by Holland. Judging by the number of times David Begg described Scotland's performance as "pathetic", I think I made the better choice.

The S.S. American, for those of you unfamiliar with musical theatre, is the setting for Cole Porter's Anything Goes. About a month ago I had booked three tickets for the production at Eden Court . At that point it hadn't dawned on me that I would be racing home from Wales in time to make curtain-up. It had dawned on me that I would only ever need three tickets because Mrs. Zed is not a fan of the genre. She simply cannot suspend her disbelief long enough to understand how passengers and crew on a steamship could all know the words to the same song and, furthermore, perform the dance steps as well. She prefers to delude herself with the notion that a team of eleven Scotland players might all play with shared tactics and towards the same goal.

No matter, I was keen to give my son and daughter a taste of showbusiness and this was their first visit to the Eden Court Theatre. I had booked seats in a box and, on the car journey across town I tried to explain the etiquette of theatre audiences and how this might differ from the cinema.

"If you drop something and it rolls down the aisle then the actors might stop what they're doing and give you a row."

I have never seen that happen but I thought it best to warn them of the possibility.

Zed-son asked how long the performance might last and I estimated it at about ninety minutes with a twenty minute interval. To his mind this sounded like a football match and he enquired if extra time might be added if there was no result. This seemed like a great idea.
Imagine each member of the cast having to take turns with additional songs until the audience finally agreed they'd had their money's worth and allowed the curtain to fall.

Anyway, it was a great show and here, to conclude, are the five things my children thought were "cool" about the experience.

1. The smoke machine simulating steam from the ship's funnel.

2. The ability to pre-order interval drinks and have fizzy cola waiting for you at "half-time".

3. The lady selling tubs of ice cream from an illuminated tray.

4. The actor whose voice kept changing from Scottish to American

5. Oh yes...the singing and dancing. Really cool.

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• - What's this?

Changing trains at Crewe this morning I met a woman who has one of the best addresses in Scotland and probably one of the best parking spaces too. Her name is Trish Shorthouse and she runs the She, like myself and Mike Walker, was negotiating the Saturday rail timetables in an effort to get from Caernarfon to Inverness by train-hopping at Bangor, Crewe and Birmingham. So we got to talking about her job and the recent arrival of Bollywood film crews in Inverness.

Trish, it turns out, is one of the people who persaudes film companies to shoot their movies in the Highlands. She works with agencies such as Scottish Screen and Highlands and Islands Enterprise and will talk to location managers from all around the world. Over and above the big feature films there is also a steady demand from the advertising industry. Just think of all those car adverts where luxury vehicles are seen twisting and turning through mountain roads.

When we traded business cards I realised that Trish is based in offices tucked behind Inverness Sheriff court. That's also where she parks her car and her address is given as simply 'Inverness Castle'.

Just think how they'll react to that in Hollywood.

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• - What's this?

They stole the show. The last night at the Celtic Media Festival took place in a massive television studio secreted within an industrial estate on the outskirts of Caernarfon. Once the final awards were out of the way, the entertainment came from a Bangor-based choir who had been runners-up in the Ö÷²¥´óÐã's Last Choir Standing Competition.

Their performance was a superb marriage of music and choreography and, after four numbers, the festival delegates were on their feet applauding and demanding more. Alas there was no encore.

So it's true what they say about the Welsh and their singing. Click on this link to hear more.

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I'm just about to head out for the final event of the Celtic Media Festival which will incude the annoucement of the Radio Station of the Year. Ö÷²¥´óÐã Scotland has already picked up a handful of awards for TV programmes, including one today for a Gaelic childrens programme.

But sad to report that our own Annie McGuire did not collect the Radio Personality of the Year gong. That went to Dylan Jones from Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Cymru whose entry had included an item where he had covered his body in tattoos and walked shirtlessly through crowds to guage their reaction.

Now, if only Annie had thought of that...

We four happy Radio Scotland delegates consoled ourselves with fish suppers and moved on.

If you want to see the whole list of winners and find out what happens tonight then you can

P.S. The award went to RTE so congratulations to them and more fish suppers for us. Back in Inverness tomorrow for musical fun at Eden Court Theatre.

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"If anyone thinks radio is boring," I said, "they've obviously not done their homework!"

Yes, I was off on one of my ranting defences of my beloved medium and this time the whole thing was being captured on video tape. The film-makers from Falmouth College had asked to interview me after I'd taken part in one of this morning's session here at the Celtic Media Festival. Richard Melvin (see earlier blog on Frogs' Legs) had given a presentation about his own career in commercial radio, the Ö÷²¥´óÐã and now independent production. I say 'presentation' but his performance was more like stand-up comedy and was laced with hilarious and jaw-dropping anecdotes. He then invited me to join him on stage to be interviewed chat-show style.

The audience of forty people was comprised, mostly, of students on media courses. That included the Falmouth trio with the camera. As the session ended they asked us both for interviews and kicked off the questions to Richard by demanding to know why so many of their fellow students thought radio was boring!

Richard batted this back quite well but I could tell he was taken aback by the very suggestion. Naturally, by the time they had put me in postion (and widened the shot) I had my rant at the ready.

"It's not boring it's sexy, fast, friendly, fun, slick, full of variety..."

I think I was still talking when they ran out of tape.

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• - What's this?

A fascinating, but poorly attended session at the Celtic Media Festival this morning in which we heard how Dundee has become the real hub of the video games industry in Britain. There was much praise, also, for Abertay University which works closely with the games companies to ensure a steady stream of qualified graduates and courses that keep pace with the changes in software systems and codes.

Despite that we were told that one Dundee company alone has forty vacancies waiting to be filled.

There was a lot of discussion about how games producers can share skills with the traditional entertainment industries; script-writing, story-boarding and animation, for example.

Oh and there were two experts on hand to answer the age old question that divides so many games enthusiasts: is Fifa 09 a better football game than Pro Evolution Soccer?

Apparently not, say the men in the know.

I thought you ought to know.

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• - What's this?

One of the the most popular places to eat and drink here in Caernarfon is the Black Boy Hotel. Now, I would like to be able to tell you that the name of this hotel harks back to the days when young children were sent down the mines and emerged covered in coal dust. Alas no, because the hanging signs and and interior decor all involve caricatures of black slaves and that includes a life-size statue installed within the hotel fireplace. The building itself dates back to the sixteenth century so you might forgive a certain level of political incorrectness. Then again the restaurant menu lists 'Black Boy faggots' as a possible dish which makes you wonder if the management is just trying to provoke a reaction.

Likewise at the local Chinese restaurant where the list of starters begins with that Oriental favourite Frogs' Legs. I was dining with Dabster Productions supremo Richard Melvin who agreed to order said dish so that we could sample it and photograph it.

For the record, it tasted mainly of the spicy batter that surrounded the otherwise bland and stringy flesh.

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There was talk of pink Daleks, Sea Devils and haircuts. This was at last night's session here at the Celtic Media Festival during which a panel of behind-the-scenes folk from Doctor Who were quiized by an enthusiastic audience. The panel included the programme's outgoing Executive Producer Julie Gardener as well as one of the actors who sits inside the Dalek.

"It's remarkably spacious," he told us, "there's even a mini-bar inside."

There were lots of children in the audience. They had come armed with questions that put the media luvvies to shame.

"Why does the Doctor only have assistants from the 21st Century?"
"Will the actor taking over the role of the Doctor get a haircut before he starts?"
"Will there ever be a pink Dalek?"

One or two adults did manage to get a word in and we discovered that there is no Doctor Who Lego because the toy company will only make that if and when the series becomes hugely popular in America.

After that we retired to a nearby hotel for the opening night's drinks 'n' nibbles reception and I found myself being quizzed by a variety of students from Aberdeen College who were eager to know how they could start a career in radio. If I catch up with them later today I must ask them to tell me what I said.

And there was live music provided by a wonderful Welsh Trad ensemble called . They were as good as anything you'd hear on the Trad scene in Scotland with with the peculiarly Welsh addition of clog dancing.

Now that's something you don't see every night of the week.

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• - What's this?

We started the journey from Glasgow in high spirits and on board a very posh train. It was so posh, in fact, that the Guard had his own little office. An office the size of a shower stall, but an office nevertheless. This seemed amusing at half past eight this morning, but now, seven hours later, it seems like a distant memory.

There are four of us heading for the Celtic Media Festival in Caernarfon; Mike Walker, Annie McGuire, Matt Ludlow and Yours Truly. Annie has been nominated for a 'radio personality' award as has Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland in the 'Station of the Year' category. Those are both announced on Friday and between now and then we get to attend seminars, workshops and generally mingle with media types from Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Cornwall and Brittany.

Today has been all about getting there. We changed trains at Warrington and again at Llandudno Junction. Then a taxi journey from Bangor. No one is in the mood to sing that song about having a lovely day and opening a bottle of cider.

Not yet, anyway.

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• - What's this?

At the risk of being labelled a rat, snitch or whistle-blower I must go public with my thought that the Ö÷²¥´óÐã is wasting hundreds of thousands of pounds of your money on audience research. As an insider I can reveal that dozens of people are employed to scientifically ascertain the whims and wishes of viewers and listeners. Reports are compiled, graphs are projected and, as a result, programming decisions are made.

And yet it is all so unnecessary.

That's not my view but it is obviously the opinion of so many of my colleagues who regulary respond to such meticulous work by quoting the thoughts of the last taxi driver who has bent their ear. I kid you not.

Imagine a typical Ö÷²¥´óÐã conference room stuffed with producers, editors and, yes, the folk who run radio stations. Further imagine a well-meaning bespectacled fellow from the audience research department working his way through a PowerPoint presentation on, say, attitudes to the Ö÷²¥´óÐã's coverage of tiddleywinks tournaments. We will learn that a representative sample of the audience had been surveyed and that 72% think that there is not enough coverage on television but 32% believe there is too much of it on radio. A subsequent breakdown of the data will reveal that Scots don't like the game as much as the Welsh and that people in the South-East are disproportionately satisfied. There will be quotes from people in Guildford saying that, when it comes to flicking plastic counters, the Ö÷²¥´óÐã's coverage justifies the licence fee on its own.

The presentation may last fifteen or thirty minutes but when the time comes for group discussion you can guarantee that someone in that room will quote the views of a taxi driver.

"I was in a taxi last night and the driver told me he only watches tiddleywinks on Sky because they take it more seriously than us."

At that point everyone in the room will start nodding and, much to the dismay and bafflement of the audience research bloke, will start telling their own taxi driver stories.

Now, don't get me wrong: taxi drivers are entitled to their views, but no one ever seems to quote bus drivers, ambulance drivers or that weird guy who controls the dodgems down at the fun-fair. In effect, taxi drivers are dictating what you see on TV and hear on the radio. Yet, when I think of how those drivers communicate with each other on their radios I do wonder why so many of my colleagues think they know best.

Anyway, in an effort to bring some realism to this debate, I would like to conclude this blog entry by listing five things that have actually happened to me in a taxi. I'll leave it for you to decide whether they should be given control of public service broadcasting. I, on the other hand, would have no idea how to operate a taxi.

1. Told by driver that the cost of my fare depended on how nice I was to him on the journey (Galway )

2. Watched helplessly while my driver got out of the cab and punched another taxi driver on the rank then got back behind the wheel in a temper. (Glasgow Queen Street Station)

3. Blockaded in car park by rival firm of taxi drivers (Perth train station )

4. Told to get out of taxi in middle of nowhere because the driver had been offered a bigger fare (Cardiff)

5. Locked inside vehicle by female taxi driver in a traffic jam who refused to let me complete my journey on foot (Glasgow)

6. Offered comprehensive and innovative programme schedule which satisfied all tastes at fraction of current costs.

OK, I lied about that last one.

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• - What's this?

It was a hot night in the city. I was sitting in my office practising for the do-nothing Olympics. The only thing on my desk was my pair of size ten spats and the only case I had handled recently was that little wooden number containing my favourite type of Scotch. The free kind, natch. That's what happens when clients pay you in booze instead of bucks. So who's complaining?

"I hope I'm not interrupting you?"

The voice was familiar. It took me three, maybe four seconds to swivel round but by then I had her pegged. She was that dame from the radio show. She had more class than a ten storey High School and more brains than a vat full of haggis. I pulled my feet off the desk and gave her the kind of attention that you couldn't divide with three calculators and a room full of Math majors.

"So what can I do for you? A drink maybe?"

She shook her head and then cut to the chase faster than an old Keystone Cops flick.

"I'm looking for books," she told me, "special books...lost books. I need you to find them. There's a lot of people depending on me and I need your help."

I poured myself another slug of Highland fire-water and sighed. It was the old sob story and I had heard a thousand just like it: some poor sap looking for a book that meant so much to him when he was a kid. Or else the devoted wife searching for that out-of-print novel for an unhappy husband. The experts called it the J.R. Hartley syndrome but that meant nothing to me. The books I knew about were the kind you worked out down at the race track.

But there was something about this radio dame that made me think twice. So what if it was another hard-luck story? Maybe, just maybe, it was the kind of case I could crack faster than the spine on a new paperback.

"Will you help me?" she asked.

"Stay tuned, " I told her, "and tell me more. I'm a good listener."

She smiled.

"I like good listeners", she said, and I knew she meant it.

The Book Detectives - launching next month in the Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland Book Cafe . It wont be anything like this.

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I pitched up at yesterday afternoon and met up with an old colleague who now teaches journalism. It was Claire Dean who I worked with in the Radio Clyde newsroom in the last decade of the twentieth century. She had hardly changed at all, which was sickening. I, on the other hand, am now twice the man I used to be. A Michelin Man.

Claire had invited me to speak to her students on the new multi-media course. I was also given a whirlwind tour of the fantastic facilities. There was a spanking new TV studio, a radio studio, lots of desktop editing facilities and an actual "newsroom" where students were busy trying to beat a 4.pm deadline for a make-believe arts magazine.

Then I was invited to take the floor and spill the beans on everything I knew about radio. They'd allocated an hour for this, which was optimistic.

Well, I talked about my own career, about the difference between journalism and information processing, about the importance of listening to people's answers when you are asking questions and about how journalism gives you professional permission to be curious about everything and everybody.

I hope I gave the impression that working in radio was actually fun. I know so many people like to turn up at these things and tell students that the entire media industry is doomed and that they have more chance of winning the lottery than of finding a job.
Yes, times are hard and every organisation seems to be cutting jobs, but I still believe that people with real talent will find a way through the crowd.

As for me, well, I enjoyed my sixty minutes in the lecture room. Maybe there's a future in that for me.

"So tell me Claire," I asked, "how do you get into this racket?"

Tact. It never was one of my strengths

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Another little experiment with the schedule tomorrow afternoon when we launch the first ever edition of the Comedy Cafe. Janice Forsyth will be in the hot seat and no doubt checking for whoopee cushions before she sits down. It's part of our coverage of the but we're also wondering if there should eventually be a weekly magazine show devoted to comedy in the same way that we do with books and movies.

Festival coverage continues in our online Comedy Zone. It's presented by Simon Munnery and is just jam-packed with the best new talent. Don't take my word for that, here's the actual running order:

00:01 - Isy Suttie
00:13 - Rhod Gilbert
00:21 - Josie Long
00:29 - Simon Munnery
00:33 - John Hegley
00:45 - Ed Byrne
00:46 - Wilson Dixon
00:57 - Mark Watson
01:03 - Ardal O'Hanlon
01:14 - Simon Munnery
01:19 - Andy Parsons
01:45 - Ivan Brackenbury
01:55 - Alex Horne
02:04 - Lucy Porter
02:19 - Simon Munnery
02:25 - Ed Byrne
02:54 - David O'Doherty
03:05 - Reginald D Hunter
03:14 - Sarah Millican
03:22 - Simon Munnery
03:27 - Russell Kane
03:35 - Richard Herring
03:38 - Arnold Brown and Ian Macpherson
03:48 - Tommy Shepherd
04:02 - Will and Greg
04:08 - Ed Byrne
04:18 - Miles Jupp
04:23 - Simon Munnery
04:29 - Arnold Brown
04:58 - John Hegley
05:04 - David O'Doherty
05:14 - Mark Watson
05:22 - Reginald D Hunter

The wonders of technology allow us to monitor how many people are listening to the Zone and tell which countries they come from. Most of the audience is in the U.K., of course, but here's a shout out to our regulars in Japan and Taiwan. Oh yes.

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• - What's this?

Things were getting just a little too predictable around here, so I've decided we should relaunch a pirate radio station. Radio Scotland was, in fact, the name of one of the original pirate stations. It was shut down in 1967 but this Thursday morning, at eleven o'clock, its spirit will live again. Aye, aye, me hearties, and so on and so forth.

I put this idea into play last week after seeing a trailer for the new Richard Curtis movie and after listening to Pirate Johnny Walker on Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio 2. I was aware that Scotland had its own pirate radio folklore and that we should resurrect those memories.

But here's how an idea can get out of hand. I phoned Stephen Hollywood, the man in charge of the MacAulay & Co programme, and suggested we split frequencies for half an hour on Thursday morning and transmit the "pirate" station on Medium Wave. I mentioned that Tony Currie was a bit of an expert on these matters and that he could present the station from a different studio. At that point Stephen mentioned he was experimenting with a new bit of technology and wondered if we might actually transmit Pirate Radio Scotland from a boat on the Clyde.

The next morning Tony approached me at my desk and said that we might as well go the whole hog and transmit the station from outside the three mile limit, just like they had to do back in the 'sixties.

"You mean from the actual ocean? ", I asked.

"Yes. Why not?"

Well of course the way things work at the Ö÷²¥´óÐã is that lots of people like talking about ideas, but eventually some hapless producer has to put it all into action. That producer is Lesley Kay and on Thursday morning you'll be able to hear what she has come up with.

I'm sure it will all be ship shape.

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• - What's this?

Imagine Indiana Jones being chased under Glasgow's Kingston Bridge by a giant boulder. Think of safari-suited explorers navigating through the Edinburgh City By-Pass. Conjure up the image of Greenock as a kind of Lost World. Now, let me tell you that none of those things have anything to do with the special week of programmes we're planning for next month.

Adventures on the M8 is the cheeky name we've given to our seven-day celebration of Scotland's central belt. You'll hear a romantic drama set at Harthill services and a historical documentary about the men who built Scotland's busiest motorway. We'll also be getting out of Glasgow and Edinburgh to explore some of the towns that many motorists only know as names on an overhead gantry .

Two million people live in the central belt and the M8 - for good or ill - plays an important part in their lives. Its construction destroyed buildings and communities but also connected people like never before. In the 1970's a car journey from Easterhouse to Glasgow City Centre was reduced from almost an hour to under ten minutes. That's still true today, but only if you're driving late at night or very early in the morning.

Next month the Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland website will feature some interesting facts and figures about the M8 and the team behind that is looking for your help with stories, memories and photographs.

If you have anything to share, please contact them by clicking here

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Billy Kay has sent me this wonderful, star-spangled photograph which was taken when he was in America at the end of last month. He was one of the speakers at a symposium staged at the in Washington D.C. Billy was talking about the linguistic legacy of Robert Burns and the strong links with the U.S. that remain.

Extracts from Billy's Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland programmes were played and, he tells me, the audience responded enthusiastically and emotionally.

All of which gives me yet another excuse to remind you that our Burns audio archive continues to grow and you can find it by clicking here.

Recent additions include First Minister Alex Salmond reciting A Man's a Man for A' That.

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I've received a shocking e-mail from an Arts student in Dundee who needs help in preserving a piece of local history. It's shocking to me because it seems that a huge chunk of my childhood is about to be wiped out. The student's name is Emma McGregor and her project involves the little huts that are scattered on sites between Monifieth and Carnoustie. One such hut was where I spent most Easter and Summer holidays as did my parents, six brothers and one sister.

Emma contacted me because she discovered an old blog posting in which I'd described listening to the radio in the hut because there was no electricity to power a telly. Lighting was by gas, candle or paraffin and water came by way of a trek to a stand-pipe.

As I recall there were two big sites off the Barry Road. Our hut was in the 'Lucknowe' near the piggery. A half a mile north of that there was the 'Downs' site which was tucked behind the riding stables. Our hut was demolished about fifteen years ago and now Emma tells me that most of the others are likelyto go the same way. It seems there's more money to be made by renting the land to caravan owners either as static camps or winter storage.

In the meantime, Emma is trying to collect as many memories and photographs as possible.
She's not had a lot of luck so far so has asked me to include her e-mail address in this posting. I must also put her in contact with our sports reporter Jim Spence who also remembers days of childhood fun with friends at the huts.

My original blog on The Hut can be seen by clicking here. There's also on the subject from The Big Issue.

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• - What's this?

It's an awful thing when one of your old drinking buddies goes over to the dark side. Take Gareth Hydes, for example. There was a time when we could both spend hours "researching" pubs and pizza parlours in the West End of Glasgow. Last night I had hoped we could recapture those joyous days when we both took a taxi from Pacific Quay to Byres Road to explore some old haunts.

But then Gareth broke the bad news: he's running the London Marathon.

I should have guessed. He's lost weight and has developed a rosy complexion. He talked a lot about "the burn" and about a strange device that allows him to suck water from a backpack while running. I had a horrible fear he was going to mention "jogger's nipple" but he didn't.

He finally got round to talking about money. Sponsorship money. Turns out he's not doing the Marathon just for the fun of it. He's also hoping to raise cash for Children In Need. Not surprising since he's one of the charity's top executives.

Well,I did a few sums and worked out how much money I might have spent on pizza and beer. Then I halved it and promised him I'd donate that amount. I even went on his to confirm it.

The takes place on
the 26th of April. I'll be watching it from the pub.

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• - What's this?

I shouldn't really have cheered. That was a mistake. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. To be precise, I was outside Ibrox Stadium in Glasgow just as hundreds of Rangers fans began streaming from the ground and just as Inverness Caley Thistle had scored from a stoppage-time penalty to win . I was listening to the match on the car radio and, like I say, I shouldn't have cheered. Not wise.

I blame Richard Gordon. He does such a great job presenting Sportsound, especially as ringmaster of the 'open all mics' format. We introduced this on Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland last year. On a night when five or six SPL games are being played simultaneously Richard can bounce from one match to the next and each commentator is allowed to seize control of the airwaves to report any goal-mouth action. The idea has proved popular with the majority of listeners although there are times when so much is happening at once that you can easily get confused. That's when we rely on Richard to break through the babble and tell us what's what.

The Watson's Wind Up team poke fun at the programme by calling it 'Open All Gubs' which is a form of flattery, I suppose.

Anyway, back to last night and how a bout of insanity had prompted me to drive from the Ö÷²¥´óÐã at Pacific Quay in search of a late-night supermarket. Once I reached Ibrox I was going nowehere fast. The police tend to cordon off the side streets to keep the traffic moving on the main roads. I was, of course, trying to head against the flow of traffic. I estimate my speed at one inch an hour.

Then the phone rang. I have a hands-free device with a massive speaker on the dashboard and suddenly the voices of my wife and son were blaring around the car. Back home in Inverness the celebrations had begun. Caley Thistle are no longer bottom of the SPL table. I joined in the banter. I joked, laughed and cheered. Anyone looking into my car must have seen a man with a face more animated than Mickey Mouse.

The people looking in, however, turned out to be a group of sullen Rangers fans in a mini-bus.

Oops.

P.S. You can read a report and watch video highlights from the game by .

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• - What's this?

Some people think that working in radio is not a physically demanding job. They imagine presenters and producers sitting around for hours on comfy chairs in dimly-lit studios. They imagine it as the kind of job where the hardest thing you have to do is choose between the various mouth-watering desserts in the Ö÷²¥´óÐã canteen.

But that's enough about my job...spare a thought for Sam Brennan. Sam is someone I used to think had been cloned three times over because I see her working in various departments at Pacific Quay. I often meet her coming in to work first thing in the morning or leaving last thing at night. Mainly I see her while I'm sitting at my desk outside the radio studios. She walks past me about fifty times a night, always in a hurry and always on her way to or from the big office printer.

Sam, you see, is the person who takes the calls and sorts the e-mailed requests for Bryan Burnett's Get It On Show. She answers the phones in a little editing studio next door to where Bryan is presenting the show. The printer, because it's noisy, is located at the far end of the office outside the studios. It's not the most efficient set-up and I reckon Sam must walk two or three miles every night. Just watching her is exhausting. Ironically, tonight's show is themed around songs that have a "physical effect" on the listener. In Sam's case, that's every one that's suggested.

Sometimes, in my role as supportive manager, I offer her little words of encouragement like "walk faster" or "the show will be over before you get that request into the studio" or "are you being filmed in slow motion?"

But sometimes I don't say anything at all. Sometimes I just go to the canteen to make big, important decisions.

Apple crumble or trifle? Tricky.

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• - What's this?

If it was good enough for Robert Burns, then it's good enough for the teachers and pupils of Clackmananshire...not to mention the reigning Miss Scotland and our very own Tom Morton. What is it? The Haggis, of course. You've eaten the pudding, now sing the song and do the dance.

The musical version of The Haggis has been written by two teachers at our SoundTown school Alva Academy. It's been recorded at Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland's Pacific Quay studios and will soon be available for purchase in aid of this year's Comic Relief appeal.

Lee-Anne Howieson from Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland's Events team tells me more

"The Haggis' was composed by David Clifford (music teacher) and Stuart Clyde (deputy head) from Alva Academy. David's fiance Kate Wyman came up with the dance routine to the song also called 'The Haggis'. The front cover for the single was designed by art students from the school.
We attended the six associated primary schools to record their voices for the chorus and video them doing the dance. We also attended Alva Academy with this year's Miss Scotland, Stephanie Willemse to record our SoundTown pupils along with footage of them dancing for the music video.
The pupils are doing their own marketing and publicity for the single and are working closely with our press department. 3000 copies of the single are going on sale at the Stirling branch of HMV on 23rd March and will also be available for digital download from iTunes and Napster."

You can hear the first radio play of The Haggis when Tom Morton broadcasts live from SoundTown on the 12th of March. It's a world-premiere, so don't miss it.

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• - What's this?