Hospital Radio

My first venture into radio was in 1987. I was hosting a Sunday afternoon show on a hospital radio station in Sheffield. The studio was kept secure by a deadlock that each presenter had a key to open. I was the only person in the small studio, as my show was the last one of the day before we switched to Radio 1 for the Top 40. Shortly after my show started there was a knock on the door. I opened it and was greeted by a cleaner who wanted to empty the bins. The studio was small, so I stood outside until the cleaner had finished. The bin was emptied quickly, the cleaner left, the door closed. Hang on. The door closed. And I needed a key to open it. The same key that was on the desk in the studio. The one I could see through the window but had no way of getting at. I watched as the record on the turntable went round and round until the needle finally slid off the grooves and Kylie Minogue was replaced by static, pops and crackles. I tried the door once more in the hope it wasn’t locked. I should be so lucky…

Name That Fruit

In 1990 I was offered a job on an in-store radio station in Sheffield at a well-known clothes shop. This involved playing songs and making announcements about the latest available clothing brands. After finishing my first day of live shows – which were blasted out to the customers across the store – the store manager came up to me to thank me. He also gave me a few words of advice for the following week: “Remember, the brand is Fruit of the Loom, not Fruits of the Loin.” Lesson learnt.

Shocking News

My in-store radio career saw me move to Leeds in 1991 and whilst reading out some information for the customers I was rudely interrupted by an electric shock from the mixing desk. This caused me to jolt backwards, hitting my head on the amp rack behind and sending me crashing to the floor. A few moments later I was helped to my feet by the store manager who, once he knew I was alright, proceeded to congratulate me on broadcasting the word “f**k” to all three levels of Concept Man and Chelsea Girl…not arf!

Man In The Mirror

One in-store radio studio I worked from had a two-way mirror directly in front of my mixing desk, so as I presented my show I could clearly see customers in front of me. Some would use the mirror to check a new hat, jacket or jumper and use the changing rooms for the more intimate clothing items. That was until one elderly couple decided to use the mirror to check their own clothing. Whilst the wife kept a look-out, the husband unfastened his belt, dropped his trousers, and started to adjust his underwear. All of this going on whilst I was announcing the latest deals across the store. Now it appeared he had a problem and it needed sorting. So, I carried on reading my script as the elderly gentleman continued to rearrange certain parts of his anatomy and stock-check the other bits. I can assure you, they were all there! After what seemed like a lifetime, the couple left and I finished my link, played a song, and hoped that there were no announcements for the underwear section of the store for at least an hour or so.

Windy Miller

I was hosting a sports show on a station based in Rotherham. The show was a combination of music and sport that also included my elderly co-host presenting live reports of the games involving Rotherham United. During one of the live reports, I noted that it sounded “very windy at the ground today,” to which the reporter replied, in his broad Yorkshire accent: “Aye it is, and I’m sat on a very wobbly gantry. I’m holding on for dear life!” I’ve never been one to miss an opportunity and quick as a flash I replied, “Well you’d better be careful you don’t get blown off then!” He politely responded, “I won’t, don’t you worry,” before I pulled down his microphone fader, played another song and waited for the station manager to call.

Silence is Golden

Whilst leaving my studio for a toilet break my work colleagues thought it would be highly amusing to turn the volume down on my studio speakers as well as the radio in the office, leaving the entire building in complete silence. They also thought it would be hilarious to change the running order of my tracks and leave my mic live so the listeners could hear my reaction. I returned from the bathroom and the silence sent me into absolute panic.

I was sure that I had left the system in auto, so it would simply play the next song until I returned. I sprinted across the office, flung open the studio door, mouthed numerous obscenities as I pushed buttons left, right and centre to get something back on air – which I did. But I was unaware of what was being broadcast until I finally worked out that the studio monitors were turned down. When the volume was restored in the studio, the mix of four different tracks playing at the same time, with station jingles and idents firing in all over the place, was not something I want to hear again in a hurry. I restored order, regained my composure, and once again waited for the call from the station manager!

Fishy Story

Whilst interviewing celebrity chef Jamie Oliver for a breakfast show I was hosting, he announced that he was filming a new TV show to get people cooking again and that he was going to teach me how to cook something live on air, with all the TV cameras capturing the moment. So, the outdoor kitchen was set, the cameras rolled and we started to cook. The pan heated up, Jamie added the oil and then what looked like a slab of meat. Great, that’ll do me, I thought, a prime slab of steak and I’m cooking it with an award-winning celebrity chef.

Jamie plated it up in his usual flamboyant way and announced, “There you go, mate. Get your laughing gear round that tuna steak.” Hang on, what did he just say? Tuna steak? I have a list of food that I don’t eat and tuna is at the top, closely followed by salad cream. Jamie looked at me and nodded. The cameras rolled and the audience that had gathered round to watch waited with bated breath for me to take my first mouthful. A few moments later and I was at the side of the radio station gagging and spitting out chunks of tuna steak. I watched the show a few days later and was surprised to see my cooking segment didn’t make the final edit.

Be My Guest

There is a reason that most commercial radio stations pre-record many of their interviews and I found out why the hard way. A guest on my show was telling a story about when he worked for an electrical shop owned by a certain Mr Mycock. Now, the alarm bells should have been ringing at that point, but I let my guest continue with his story until, before laughing uncontrollably, he delivered the telling punchline: “anyone who called up would be greeted with the words ‘hello, Mycock’s Electric’.” I sat there open-mouthed for a few seconds before turning to the mic and announcing, “It’s 8:22, here’s Prefab Sprout.”

The Show Must Go Off!

My two young nieces asked if they could come to the radio station and watch me present a show. They came over one Saturday afternoon and I sat them in Studio 2, so they could watch my show in Studio 1 without having to worry about keeping quiet or standing still. All was going well until the girls decided they would try and put me off by running to and from the dividing window, then bobbing up and down and pulling funny faces.

For some strange reason Studio 2 had a main power switch that was situated just under the window. And guess what? Yep, my nieces leant against it and the power went off in both studios. Now, you would think it would be a simple job to switch the power back on. But it wasn’t! To get power back, you had to switch everything else off and reboot one piece of equipment at a time. Most radio stations have a back-up track that plays after 30 seconds of dead air, but that didn’t happen, as the power to that was also turned off.

Several frantic minutes later and we were finally back on air. I leaned back in my seat to catch my breath. A moment later the door to my studio opened and my sheepish-looking nieces entered. I expected them to apologise but was left disappointed when they had only come in to check that I was going to play them the latest Britney Spears song.

I'm Listening!

I received many gifts during my stint on commercial radio, including soap, homemade beer, cakes, sandwiches, a cooked chicken, a towel with my name embroidered on, a comb, and half a box of Caramac chocolate bars that a listener had stolen from the local garage (he knew I liked them having mentioned it earlier on my show). I was also given two goldfish called Richard and Lee, but I politely managed to persuade the listener to look after them for me. She agreed on the understanding that I called round to see how they were doing, something I must do one of the days!

Leave a Light On...

One of the highlights of the year for a commercial radio station is the switching on of the Christmas lights in their local town centre. The radio station sets up their roadshow and blasts out festive favourites and introduces a range of acts that no-one has ever heard of, before the celebrity guest is brought out to push the button.

The celebrity is usually someone local or appearing in panto. I’ve had the pleasure of working with such stars as Darren Day, the Chuckle Brothers and someone from X-Factor whose name escapes me. One year the celebrity – who will remain nameless – was introduced by myself before walking up to the big red button in the centre of the stage. The audience were asked to join in with the countdown: “3…2…1…” The celebrity pressed the button, the lights flickered,