Ö÷²¥´óÐã

We had three nominations in last night's - all for programmes that were new to the schedule last year - and we came away with the bronze award for Pain of the Game. There was much whooping from producers Dan Holland and Pennie Latin as well as the series presenter Bryan Cooney.



The judges had some nice things to say about our other contenders The Jazz House and North By North North, but there was no sign of any gold being struck by any Scottish stations.

I was glad to see a Silver go to my chums at , formerly Vip On Air. They scored a hit in the new internet programme category.

Lots more gossip from the event will follow in future posts, including our encounters with Annie Nightingale, Chris Moyles and John Humphriys.

Come back soon.

So there we were at the Sony Awards when Joanne, my P.A., spotted Chris Moyles sitting with his Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio 1 chums at the next table. Actually, that's a lie. Chris and his pals were at one of the good tables that are illuminated by the overhead lights so that the cameras can pick him up.

We were at a table so far away from the central podium that it had a Luton postcode. But very handy for the Gents toilets all the same.

So Joanne approached Chris and asked for a photograph. Apparently he was one of the "nicest men in the world " and exchanged polite chit chat.

Funnily enough, Chis Moyles sidekick, , appeared on the MacAulay & Co show the other day. I came across a weird explanation of this on the David Lewis

So, who else did we meet? Well who knew that Moira Stuart was a big jazs fan? Well our Jazz House team have signed her up for an appearance on Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland soon. Or so they say. It was a long night.

And Annie Nightingale was had some very kind words to say about our music team in Glasgow and had find memories of making a programme with us a few years ago.

And I shook the hand of John Humphrys who had provoked the rowdy crowd at the Grosvenor House in a moment's silence to remember the plight of our kidnapped colleague Alan Johnston.

"I just felt it had to be done, " he told me.

Absolutely.

Election Day - and that’s what I’d been asked to talk about when journalism lecturer John Clark invited me to the Metropolitan College in Glasgow this afternoon. I was able to fit it in before catching the train back to Inverness, especially since the college is a two minute walk from Queen Street Station.

John led me upstairs to a traditional lecture theatre where, much to my horror, a slide show was already running featuring about a dozen photographs from this blog. John’s introduction felt like a edition of This Is Your Life, as he touched on everything from my upbringing in Easterhouse , my brief foray into stand-up comedy and even last Sunday’s trip to the Falls of Shin.

As I got to my feet I wasn’t sure I had anything left to say, but, as diary readers will be all too aware, having nothing to say has never prevented me from talking. So I described Ö÷²¥´óÐã’s Scotland cross-media approach to the election and our plans for covering the counts across Scotland.

When I invited questions I was pleasantly overwhelmed by the range and quality of the subsequent grilling. I was asked about the future of the Ö÷²¥´óÐã in an independent Scotland (if any), plans for new radio services, the reason for our new H.Q at Pacific Quay and whether or not academic courses in media studies were valued within the industry.

Having earlier explained that I had to catch a train so that I could be home in time to vote, one student asked me which party I’d be voting for. I dodged that one.

I did lapse into my usual rant about the difference between journalism and information-processing and talked about the importance of basic story-finding, building contacts and telling people things they don’t already know. I reaslied I was coming across as a bit of an old misery on that subject so I tried to counter that my explaining that jobs in the media can be fantastic fun, but that you really ought to quit before you get jaded and cynical.

And I left them with a challenge. Having shared two pieces of Ö÷²¥´óÐã gossip, I wondered if anyone thought they were the basis of a story and, if so, could they sell it to a newspaper.

One concerned complaints of sea-sickness from staff working near the Clyde-facing windows at Pacific Quay…the other was about our jazz team’s encounter with Moira Stuart at the Sony Awards.

Let me know if you see any of these in the newspapers. I’m due a tip-off fee.

I have eyes like pickled onions today. That's what happens when you go without sleep. I was awake until after six o'clock this morning, listening to Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland's coverage of the election results and the subsequent shambles as it emerged that we live in a country that doesn't know how to count votes.

At the same time my thoughts turned to the students we had sent out to locations across Scotland. They were recording the behind-the-scenes story of the election. Our original idea was to capture enough material to tell a build a simple snapshot of election day. Now, it seems, those students have been privy to a historic farce. One of them, , has already described her own adventure in Glasgow. You can read that . David Lewis is another of our student reporters. He was in Elgin and you can read his report .

And yet, when I arrived back from Glasgow last night and made my way to the polling station in Inverness, everything seemed to be going well. The officials took the time to explain how the ballot forms should be completed and reminded everyone not to fold the forms before slipping them in to the two different ballot boxes.

Then, in the first hour of our election programme, Ruth Davidson was posing many tough questions about the possibility that things might go wrong. Before midnight these fears were being shrugged off....a few hours later I was still awake but the nightmare was well underway.

Gerard Kelly is on air all this week while Fred MacAulay and the team move lock stock and barrel (of laughs) across the Clyde to our new studios at . I'm enjoying listening to Gerard but can't do so without recalling his appearances in the Ricky Gervais series Extras. Gerard played a camp, domineering tpanto director, Bunny, who eventually "comes out" and steals the show with the memorable line "yumma, yumma, yumma.". You have to see it.

I also laughed out loud yesterday when Gerard was interviewing the American singer . He was intrigued to discover that she was based in Glasgow and asked, with some incredulity, why she chose the West of Scotland as a place to settle down.

"Well, " she responded, "I've been conducting a global survey of precipitation..."

I'm indebted to Robbie Shepherd who has given me permission to post the following clip on our You Tube site.



It's taken from a Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland Christmas Lunch in which listeners were invited to meet their favourite presenters and watch them perform in, ahem, unusual circumstances.

In this clip, Robbie proves he was well ahead of the game when it comes to multi-skilling. As well as being an expert in Scottish traditional music, Robbie shows that he can turn his vocal talents to the art of football commentrary.

There's another clip in which a certain James Traynor abandons football journalism to gives us the scoop of country dancing.

But I've yet to work up the courage to ask him if I can use that!

I had some fairly off the wall answers for recent Face In The Mirror competition, but eventually Tracy Tempelman and Bryan Gould (both from Fife) identified sports presenter Annie McGuire as the mysterious wpoman behind the nose & specs. They get the Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland pens, but I'm afraid I cant send a prize to Kim Winston from MacAulay & Co on the basis that she has inside information. Bryan...you have to get in touch with your address.




So here's another chance to win inky riches. This time I'll offer a clue. The person in the following image isn't on air this week but I don't think she's gone as far north as Caithness. Your guesses please. First three answers qualify for a Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland pen.

Please forgive the brevity of this early-morning message, but as the 7 a.m. embargo passes I just wanted to say a word about our latest
Once again Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland has more than a million weekly listeners...still more than any other station in Scotland. In fact, the figures are about twenty thousand up on the same period last year.

So thanks, once again. As I always say, it wouldn't be the same without you.

Meanwhile I'm heading for Inverness airport to catch a flight to Sumburgh. I'm spending the next couple days at Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Shetland and then Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Orkney.

More on that soon. Pictures too!

So happy 30th birthday to both Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Shetland and Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Orkney. I'm just back from a flying visit to Lerwick and Kirkwall where I was mightily impressed by the can-do attitude of the production teams in both centres. Just as impressive was the recent audience research we commissioned which told us how islanders appreciate the programmes provided by both stations.

Working in the Northen Isles - and so far from Ö÷²¥´óÐã Scotland's H.Q. in Glasgow - does present particular problems. Things that are taken for granted at Pacific Quay can cause weeks of frustration for staff elsewhere. One example is the air conditioning in the Lerwick studio. it had failed some weeks ago but there were no engineers on hand to fix it. There was talk of cooking chickens in the studio to prove the point.

Stragely enough, our presenter Tom Morton had the opposite problem when I met him that evening in town. He was collecting takeaway food for family and friends and trying to work out how he could keep in warm on the 30 mile drive home. Writing in he claims that I came up with a suggestion for this but, to be honest, I was making it up as I went along.

The next morning I was up at half past five to catch the flight to Kirkwall. John Ferguson, who runs Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Orkney, was the perfect host and took us for lunch at waterside restaurant in Stromness where I succumbed to a slice of cheescake made with Orkney ginger fudge. I'm still drooling when I think about that.

If you want a sight & sound snapshot of Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Orkney then please click on the following You Tube image.

It was the for Inverness Caledonian Thistle this afternoon and the Zed family were out in force - all four of us - to watch our team come back from a one-nil deficit to beat Dunfermline two-one. It meant relegation for the Fife side and it was sad to watch players and fans in tears as the final whistle blew.

Having previously commented on the quiet atmosphere at the Caledonian Stadium I should point out that this afternoon's game was a loud and lively affair.
The Dunfermline supporters had arrived in large numbers and in good voice. On the home side, the I.C.T "singing section" on the fringe of the main stand were doing their best to encourage the rest of us to chant and cheer. It was working.
Those of us sitting way over in the family stand couldn't help but join in. We even forgot it was raining.

Trouble was the fans in the tended to stand up when they sang and this wasn't going down well with the stewards and police. Throughout the second half of the game we became distracted by the sight of Caley fans being ticked off by yellow-jacketed stewards or being escorted out of the ground by police.

It was so distracting I actually missed Caley's equaliser.

Oh well, roll on next season. Let's hope there's something to sing about this time next year.

One of the great things about being a Dad is that you get to recapture your own youth.

Today, for instance, I took the Zedettes to see Spiderman 3. It was a 12A certificate, so of course they had to be accompanied by a responsible parent. Not being able to find one of those, they asked me to take them instead. It was a good movie – a bit long and complicated at times – but a good mix of action and comedy.

Now at this point I have to confess that Spiderman – or rather his alter ego Peter Parker – got me through my childhood. If you read the Marvel comics you came to realise that Spidey stories balanced battles with weird foes with the trials and tribulation’s of Peter Parker’s personal life. Here was a lad who had to cope with school and college studies , a part-time job as a photographer, caring for a frail aunt and, of course, skyscraper battles with the Green Goblin. Compared to that, my life seemed a doddle.


Of course, as I explained to the Zedettes, I also had a secret identity. For I was Captain Hoopla! Wearing a t-shirt eblazoned with a huge inky ‘H’ , I brandished a large red plastic hoop which I could I could hurl towards wrong-doers and, through the miracle of back-spin, watch it return to my hand a moment later.

The street gangs of Easterhouse feared my very presence. Or at least I’m sure they would have if I hadn’t disappeared around corners and up stairways if I saw them coming. Well come on…some of those guys walked about with kitchen knives stuck in their belts and they weren’t looking to carve chicken.

As I explained my secret past to my awe-struck children I could see the glimmer of an idea form in their minds. Yes, maybe it was time for the entire Hoopla Family to take to the streets. That’s probably why they ran off. Probably gone to get hoops and costumes.

Probably.

One of the things I discovered during my trip to Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Shetland last week is that our staff there are often called upon by TV colleagues in London because of their voices.

Next time you watch Terry Wogan present the Points of View programme, have a listen to some of the accents used to "voice-up" the viewers' comments. Yep, that's our radio folk in Lerwick.

Not that people in the Northern Isles make more comments about TV programmes than anyone else....but it makes a change from the usual Ö÷²¥´óÐã Counties voices.

I promised some pictures from my trip north...well here you are, and these ones are very moving.

I'm in Glasgow tonight and have just driven between and listening to Bryan Burnett's show. His theme tonight was 'student parties', which is timely because so many students across Scotland are sitting the last of their term exams and some are saying goodbye to campus life forever. That's bound to leave some of them feeling tired and emotional and, well, in the pub 'till chucking oot time.

I seem to have met quite a few students recently. Indeed and Lewis sent me links to their blogs which you should have a look at if you want an insight into undergraduate subcultures. Or a reminder of the things students will do to avoid going to the library and cracking some books.

All of this had me feeling nostalgic for my own years of academic study in Glasgow and Cardiff. My long and winding route into radio production took me through courses in Public Administration, Psychology and finally Journalism. Yes, you can tell I had a really clear career plan, can't you?

There were also many, many nights in the pub which ended up back at my friend Colin's flat off Byres Road. One hot summery night I remember someone sleeping with their head in the fridge. Another night someone arrived with a bag full of mushrooms claiming they had hallucinogenic properties. This was unlikely since he'd bought them at the Safeway supermarket. Student parties always seemed to end with a girl sitting on the stairs crying, or else someone playing obscure rock tunes on a guitar.

Which brings us back to Bryan's programme and musical memories. I have two tunes in my head when I think of my student days. One is Billy Joel's Uptown Girl which I associate with the Warehouse Disco in Glasgow.

The other memory is set in a ground floor flat on the south side of Glasgow - Calder Street, I think - and at a three o'clock in the morning someone decided to play an entire Chris de Burgh album while insisting we sat in silent appreciation.

And before you ask, let me explain it was December, four inches of snow on the ground, no taxis available and no escape.

So what are your memories?

A day of back-to-back meetings at Pacific Quay and every one of them has been about the future. There's no doubt that the new technology we now have at our disposal will allow us to develop all sorts of new services. But which ones? This is the fun part - imagining possibilities - and programme makers seem enthused by this new working environment. We hope to make some exciting announcements in September.

Yet, as I look out at the River Clyde, I'm struck by the complete lack of activity on the water. Not a single ship or boat in sight. How very different from the day, about forty years ago, when my Dad took me for a stroll through the Clydeside shipyards. As a welder he was well used to the noise and bustle, but I was awe-struck by everything I saw.

Will broadcasting go the same way as shipbuilding? Who knows? But it's easy to take it all for granted.

This afternoon I was giving Tom Morton a tour of the building. It's an open plan environment and no one has an enclosed office. Not even my boss, Ken MacQuarrie who we encountered next to the preserved desk of the Ö÷²¥´óÐã's first Director General, John Reith. How technology has changed since Reith's day, but his original vision of the Ö÷²¥´óÐã's purpose remains intact.

Ken is just back from the International Press Institute Congress in Instanbul where broadcasters from around the world told stories of repressive regimes, murdered colleagues and the complete repression of free speech.

Free speech.

Here in Scotland, we tend to take that for granted too.

Heading out of Glasgow tonight I called in at the Iain Anderson birthday bash in Finnieston. It's five years since Iain took over the late night slot on Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland and the production team at Uist Media wanted to celebrate.

No wonder. The programme has a loyal following in Scotland - one fan had travelled from Moray to be at the party - and it's also one of the most requested shows on our Listen Again site. The centrepiece of tonight's party was a huge map of the world with little Saltire flags pinned to every country from whence a listener had made contact.

I noticed a gap for Siberia but was told they're working on that.

Mr Anderson himself was in fine fettle and, when I was given a microphone and asked to say a few words, I talked about the importance of a skilled and passionate presenter - and this at a time when some commercial radio stations are sacking their entire presentation teams and playing non-stop music from computers.

Sadly I couldn't linger to enjoy the food and drink. I was driving back to Inverness and wanted to get on the A9 before darkness fell.

I was at Aviemore when Iain came on air and made reference to his party. He sounded as bright as a button and clearly a lot of self-restraint had been shown earlier in the evening.

Yesterday on Sportsound there was an interesting exchange of views about Inverness. Richard Gordon was talking about Inverness Caledonian Thistle and the club's problem in attracting players who would be prepared to make the long journey up the A9.

In the subsequent discusion you might have been forgiven for thinking that Inverness is located somehwhere within the Arctic Circle. It was Chick Young who brought a sense of reality to the debate when he pointed out that teams and players in London regularly relocate and travel to Liverpool and Manchester and that we Scots have a strange notion of distance.

Actually, I only half-agree with Chick. I would say that it's only people in Glasgow and Edinburgh who think Inverness is far, far away. I have friends in the Borders who think nothing of driving two or three hundred miles in any direction. And when I lived in Cardiff there were people who would commute -every morning and evening - to London and back.

So why do so many people in Scotland's central belt think they should only travel to Inverness in the comfort of a Tardis? Well, I blame television. Commercial television, to be precise.

Growing up in Glasgow our commercial telly was provided by STV. It served central Scotland and the company's transmission area stopped just south of Dundee. The station's on-screen weather map, it follows, showed only that portion of Scotland relevant to its target audience. It stopped at the firth of Tay and stretched only as far south as Stranraer.

Millions of viewers were left to imagine what strange lands might lie beyond the scope of the chart? Perhaps horrible beasties lurked to the north and south. Yes we had all heard tell of the northern lights of Aberdeen, but perhaps they belonged to alien spacecraft.

So there was Chick on the radio talking about the fantastic lifestyle available in the north of Scotland. I was sitting in the car nodding my head in agreement. True, it takes me more than three hours to travel from Inverness to Glasgow, but when I lived on the outskirts of Glasgow it used to take me almost an hour to get into the centre of town.

And don't get me started on that journey from Glasgow to Edinburgh on the M8! I've seen the seasons change while I've queued to get on to that City By-pass.

I should add, it's not just Glasgow footballers who have a problem with distances. Only last week a Ö÷²¥´óÐã colleague was talking about the relocation of . from the West End of Glasgow to the South Side. He expressed sympathy for staff members who would now have to make the epic journey across the Clyde.

"It's the other side of the river, " I said, "not the dark side of the Moon."

Mind you, the Moon is reachable. I'm not sure he would think the same about Inverness.

It's funny how that word 'wireless' has been seized by the computer industry and has now come full circle as we listen to internet radio stations on our wireless laptops. The word 'tranny' has also been seized, but we wont go there just now.

The , however, was a place I discovered when I was first in Kirkwall and finally manged to visit it during my last trip there.

The following video footage might only appeal to those of you who have geek tendencies, so I apologise in advance.

Another early-morning flight from Inverness and I arrive in London in the middle of a mini heatwave. By chance I've packed my safari jacket and pith helmet so all is well.

My meetings today are in Bush House, home of the which has just been celebrating record listening figures. Bush House is one of my favourite Ö÷²¥´óÐã buildings. The place reeks of history - typewriter is displayed in a glass case - and the staff restaurant is buzzing with the sound of a conversations taking place in two dozen different languages.



The meeting is about ...which offers the possibility of providing digital service on analogue frequences. There are various trials of this technology taking place in locations as far apart as and India. The prospect of digital quality audio on Short Wave interests our international programme makers, while I'm interested in anything that will allow us to provide existing or additional services across Scotland.

As with any meeting at Bush House, the accents are diverse. I expect there was some bafflement when the chap with the Polish surname pipes up in his best telephone Glaswegian, but hey ho.

I explain our current transmission problems....patchy MW/FM coverage in certain parts of Scotland...DAB broadcasts confined to just our Medium Wave output....broadband not available in many rural areas...local programming only possible on local FM frequencies.

One of the technical guys in the room proposes a wonderful idea which involves converting the Short Wave signal into a new digital platform for Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland. The only snag is that we would have to send the signal from a place that's far enough away to bounce off the atmosphere and be received in Scotland.

Later I phone Mrs Z. and explain that I may have to relocate to Norway. Oh how she laughed!

Last night I was in Glasgow and some friends invited me to join them for a curry. We went to an Indian restaurant on Sauchiehall Street. The city streets were teeming with football fans, all heading for pubs where they could watch the European cup final on large screen TVs.

Our chosen restaurant, on the other hand, wasn't too busy. We got a great booth, the food was fantastic, the conversation sparkling and somehow life felt so much better after that third pint of lager.

But here's what I learned today.

If you are planning a big night out involving alcohol and curry, just make sure it isn't the night before your annual appraisal with your boss.

That's all I want to say.

I ended up at Raigmore Hospital in Invernessl ast night after a strange 24 hours during which I fell victim to some kind of mysterious medical condition which still defies scientific explantion.

All I can tell you is that I can't move my head up or down, nor from side-to-side. I also have difficulty swallowing food.

This makes me appear both hungry and indecisive.

At one point they were going to keep me in overnight for more tests, but finally decided I was fit enough to go home. A pity because I was hoping to eat grapes and sample the hospital radio station.

Meanwhile, working at this laptop is literally a pain in the neck, so I might be offline until the medication kicks in.

See, there's always a bright side!

Today being one of those public holidays that only some U.K.organisations grant their employees reminded me of the discussion on Morning Extra last Friday.

It seems moves are afoot to convince Gordon Brown that there should be a new type of public holiday in which empoyees are encouraged to spend the day volunteering for a community project or charity.

That, in turn, reminded me of the Ö÷²¥´óÐã Radio Scotland series The Works Bus, in which we turned up at offices and factories and took groups of workers on a mystery tour. The secret destination was always a voluntary organisation in need of a helping hand.

You can see more in this short piece of video.

"So," said the doctor, showing me a long, thin length of black cable, "I'm going to insert this into your nose and feed it down the back of your throat. There's a little camera on the end of it and I'll be able to see what's going on in this monitor."

It was, I have to say, one of the most unpleasant sensations of my entire life. Not painful, just, well, ghastly.

On the other hand, as the images of my throat came flickering on to the screen it looked a lot more interesting than most daytime television. I couldn't stop myself from thinking about the media possibilities. Perhaps the Ö÷²¥´óÐã could trump the popularity of You Tube by developing an online site called Inner Tube. Failing that my TV colleagues could pitch a format called Through The Keyhole Surgery.....who lives with a larynx like this?.

All credit to the medical staff at Raigmore Hospital. They are so thorough. Having presented myself at my G.P's surgery first thing on Monday morning, I was sent to the Ear Nose & Throat dept at Raigmore and was being examined there within the same hour! I was poked, prodded, x-rayed and discussed by everyone from senior consultants to junior medical students.

The last time I was treated in hospital was when I was seven and broke my arm, but this week, having visited Raigmore twice within three days, I feel I've certainly had my share of NHS resources.

Not that anyone is exactly sure what's wrong with me - although they have ruled out some of the worst case scenarios that Mrs Z managed to list after a quick trawl of the internet. I can't tell you what a comfort that was.

I still cant move my head without my whole upper body moving with it. I cant swallow anything with a consistency thicker than cream-of-chicken soup and I have a tendency to wake up three times a night, coughing and spluttering like a drowning man who has been dragged ashore in the nick of time.

The good news is that I have been given some happy pills designed to relax my neck muscles. Trouble is they have a tendency to make me fall asleep in mid-sente

Back in the office in Inverness today where we gathered in one of the big production offices to hear from Jeremy Peat. The former National Governor for Scotland now sits on the new and he's been spending a few days in Inverness hearing the views of staff and audience groups.

While we waited for the question and answer session to begin, a few people were kind enough to ask after my health and were curious to know if the doctors had ever discovered the source of my sore neck.

No such curiosity from news reporter Jackie O'Brien, however, who told me she had immediately worked out the reason.

"It's all those meetings in Glasgow, " she explained, "and all that time you have to spend watching your back."

She's just too smart for her own good, but today's Brass Neck award goes to Tom Morton who was on the radio this afternoon telling the nation about a video he has posted on

It shows Tom's journey through our old H.Q at Queen Margaret Drive and is not unlike the footage I posted on this blog a few weeks ago.

Well, here's your chance to compare. First Tom's video



and then mine