Some weeks it’s so difficult to know what to write about, the editor’s been outside my house, pounding away on my front door, demanding that I hand over that week’s column, while I was inside, pounding away on my computer keyboard trying to finish it.  Then, there are weeks like this when an article can almost write itself.  Though I have to be here to check the spenllig!

I’m not a massive TV watcher, because I don’t own a massive TV.  Many evenings my telly’s unplugged and unwatched, standing silent in the corner, like a sullen teenager reprimanded for not helping with the washing-up.  However, I’ve always bought a TV licence, knowing it pays not only for TV channels I don’t watch, but also radio stations I do listen to.  But I was staggered to learn the BBC is spending £50 million – enough to pay for 314,000 TV licences – on market research to find out what sort of programmes their viewers would like to see.  If you’re laughing at how ridiculous that sounds, this’ll stop you.

They’ve also spent £80 million re-launching BBC3 after taking it off air some years ago to put online.  BBC3 is aimed at 18 to 34-year-olds, who are more likely to spend their evenings playing with their X Box than watching the telly box.

As a good proportion live with their parents, the BBC are providing them with a channel they probably haven’t bought a TV licence to watch. Not that many people are watching. One BBC 3 programme about tractor racing (!) attracted 43,000 viewers.  There were more people queueing outside my local chippy last Friday.

If a BBC market researcher came to my front door, elbowed my editor out of the way and asked for my thoughts on their programmes, I’d tell them the prefix “Celebrity” should be removed from all their cheap’n’cheerless shows featuring ‘reality TV stars’ and ‘influencers’ and immediately replaced by the more honest “Nonentity”.

Genuine celebrities appear in films, TV dramas and sitcoms, theatres and arenas – because they’re skilled performers with talent honed over a long period.  I fear the format for “Celebrity Toast Buttering” is already on a BBC executive’s desk awaiting a commission.

Ok, I need you to be honest with me here, how many times in the last week have you complained about something?  It might have been about slow service, cold food, bad customer service, waiting a long time for something?

We have become a nation of complainers, no longer afraid to speak up when something isn’t right – and in some cases, rightly so.  Now then, how many times in the last week have you said thank you or complimented someone about something?  I bet not half as much as you’ve complained about something. But, if I’m wrong, well done!

Imagine you are walking down the street and a complete stranger walks up to you and says, “I absolutely LOVE that jacket, it looks amazing on you”.
How would that make you feel? I bet you’d feel good; I know I would.

So why do we spend so much time putting each other down and being negative about things?  Let’s spread a bit of positivity, my friends.  Try it this week.

If you have great service somewhere or see something you like, say something.  Even if you see a post, picture or update on social media that you think is good, look for the positive and comment.

Let me know how it goes . . .

It’s nearly June! One minute we were bundled-up against the unpredictable early Spring weather and, next minute, the sun teased us with the hint of a possibility of a promise of more to come.

I might raise some hackles by declaring the only trouble with the traditional British summer is, traditionally, the British don’t know how to cope with it.

Incidentally, it’s not easy raising hackles. They require feeding three times a day and a big field to run around in.  Tell me this isn’t true about us Brits.

After only a couple of hot summer nights which make it uncomfortable to sleep unless we have air conditioning or keep a fan running at the end of the bed all night – and who can afford to do that these days? – people, perhaps within your own household, complain “I don’t mind hot weather but this is ridiculous” or “I wish we could have a couple of cool nights!” or even worse ,“I can’t wait for the autumn!”

And don’t get me started on what many Brits consider suitable warm weather fashions to wear around town.

Men and women of all ages, shapes and sizes squeeze themselves into shorts, vests or halter-tops. It’s not a good look. So, I don’t. Look, that is!
Just last week, while I was shopping, an old man walked towards me in baggy shorts that had two long pieces of white cotton attached. It was only when he got closer I realised they were his pale, bony legs.

I recently watched a documentary about Blackpool in its 1950s heyday, well before cheap package holidays to Spain became the norm.  In one scene, the beach was so full you couldn’t see the sand.  It was choc-a-bloc with thousands of families and couples who were there for the week.  But, even though they were there to unwind after another year’s hard work in the factories and mills, all the men wore suits, ties and formal shoes!

Okay, it looked quaintly old-fashioned, but what would you prefer to see men wearing around town in hot weather? Baggy shorts or smart suits?
Answers on a postcard to me c/o Sandals Resort, Barbados.

I’m often asked, “How long does it take you to write these columns – and where do the ideas come from?”

So, it’s about time I shared the secret, despite the fact that it’s not a secret.
There are always ideas floating around in my head.

Sometimes I overhear a conversation and I instantly see this as an idea that can be expanded upon or developed into an article.  There are also other voices floating around my head, but I’m having therapy for those.

Newspapers, magazines, radio and TV can and often be a source of material and inspiration.  Often, my close friends share ideas with me and encourage me to write about certain topics.  Most are thought-provoking and topical. Some I couldn’t possibly publish!

These ideas are scribbled down as rough notes in the first instance.
Sometimes, the notes remain there for months until the opportunity arises to turn them into a story good enough for you, the reader.   After all, my main aim is to inform, entertain and sometimes stimulate or challenge your thinking.  Yes, there is method in the madness.

So, in general, the collation of ideas is an ongoing process.  However, pulling it all together is where the hard work comes in.  Like most things in life, perseverance through the doubts and insecurities is the key to success.  Not everything works all of the time.  But, from the fantastic feedback I get, I think we might be getting it right most of the time.

In 2020 I wrote about the sad news that the popular radio station Swansea Sound had been taken over by a huge UK company and – just as they’d done with the other stations they’d bought-up – they dispensed with the services of local broadcasters.

While the company retained some local news, traffic and travel bulletins, the replacement DJs were broadcasting from London.  I expressed the feeling it was nothing less than a slap in the face for the loyal listeners to Swansea Sound, who’d helped build the popularity of the station over the years.

It was ironic that the very thing that made the station such an attractively juicy plum to be plucked from the tree of broadcasting success – local DJs who knew the area and what their listeners wanted to hear – was completely ignored when the national company took it over.

The only positive thing to come out of it was that we still had another local radio station – The Wave.  But now that’s been taken over by Hits Radio and the last local broadcaster to ‘spin a disc’ was Jamie Pritchard on May the 13.

Gary Stein, Head of Hits Radio, said “We send a huge thankyou to Jamie for keeping us greatly entertained on weekdays and hope you’ll join me in saying farewell as he steps down.”

Just like you, I don’t know what went on during the takeover talks and I’ve never met Jamie Pritchard, but it doesn’t appear to me that he ‘Stepped down’, as Mr. Stein stated in such a staggeringly disingenuous manner.

I’m willing to be proved wrong, but it looks very much like he and all the other local broadcasters, were ‘Given the elbow’.

While the new Wave’s weekday breakfast shows retain local news and traffic reports, the remaining schedules are taken from Hits Radio hubs in England and Scotland.

Please don’t misinterpret my comments as an anti-English rant.
You know me better than that.  Local radio stations across Great Britain have been swallowed-up by massive companies and local DJs replaced by anonymous voices playing the same rota of tunes.

Does DAB now mean DULL AND BLAND?

I was sitting in a coffee shop many miles from this part of Wales, wondering whether to write about the recent bizarre suggestion that the title of Edward Lear’s famous poem “The Owl And The Pussycat” should be changed to “The Owl And The Kitty Cat”  Apparently, after being around for over 100 years, it suddenly might offend because of its ‘linguistic connotations’.

The poem was set to music and recorded by the entertainer known as ‘The Man With The Small Guitar” Elton Hayes in the 1950s.

I’m reliably informed it was frequently played on the popular BBC radio shows “Children’s Favourites” and “Junior Choice” up until the 1970s and is still available on CD compilations of children’s songs.  As no one’s been concerned about its ‘linguistic connotations until now, I can only echo the words of Victor Meldrew – as supplied by the brilliant David Renwick…

“What in the name of sanity!?”

But, on reflection, as I combed my hair in the mirror in the Gents, I decided not to write about that subject. Although I have a sneaking suspicion “The Owl and The Kitty Kat” sounds like a free advert for cat food.

I also decided not to tell you about the well-known department store which intends to stop using the word ‘Nude’ in its many branches to describe a particular shade of lingerie.

The word ‘Nude’ might cause a few schoolboys to snigger, but surely these days no adult is so unworldly and delicate they’d be horrified by seeing the word ‘Nude’ on a product in the lingerie department?

If so, I hope they don’t read this because I’ve used the world three times.  I’ll do it again. Nude!

Pass the smelling salts! Great Aunt Edith has fainted!

Fortunately, sitting in the coffee shop, mulling over what to write about this week, I glanced at a copy of the local newspaper that someone had left on an adjoining table.

I couldn’t help but smile at the headline…  “We name the local petrol station where you’ll never need to queue.”  I wonder if the following day’s headline was…  “Mystery of ten-mile queue at previously quiet petrol station!”?

Laughter comes in many forms: the giddy giggle, the mild chuckle, the gutsy guffaw, the sarcastic “ha!”  Its meaning is just as varied, signalling everything from amusement to discomfort and distain.

For researchers, understanding how our brain interprets this complex behaviour is serious business.

Yes, people are actually paid loads of money to research this stuff.
Every day we are faced with varying degrees of stress and challenging situations.  And, as time goes on, as we get older, relaxation and laughter can slow down the ageing process.

We are bombarded with information relating to weight loss, diets, exercise and such like.  But little is said about the huge health benefits of laughter.
This is probably because of the lack of understanding by the masses . . . up to this point!

Over the years, while attending many conferences, I have been party to such a discussion, that left me convinced that the benefits of humour and being around uplifting people can add years to our lives, reduce the need for anti-depressants and keep our brains active for much longer.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could get laughter on prescription?
After all, laughter is the best medicine.  Unless, of course, you are diabetic. Then, insulin works better.

I’ll put my cards on the table, so that, as the American say, “You know where I’m coming from”.  And I don’t mean Ammanford!

Americans also say “Hey! You’ve got my wheels turning!”, which isn’t limited to when someone’s given their broken-down car a push to get it started.
I was setting the record straight.  I never look down on people less academically gifted than me, for two reasons.

Firstly, adopting a superior attitude is an unpleasant trait that can come back and bite you on a certain part of the anatomy should your own personal circumstances unexpectedly take a tumble.
Secondly, I wouldn’t describe myself as academically gifted. Although if you’d like to, please go ahead!

But even I felt like a genius one Saturday night when, flicking through the TV channels, I stumbled upon what was described as a ‘Celebrity’ edition of a long-running quiz show.  I won’t name it, but it rhymes with ‘Plaster Rind’.
That I failed to recognise any of the ‘Celebrities’ may be more my fault than whoever booked them for the show.

However, I think we all agree that if there’s one word that’s been massively overused and ludicrously over-stretched in today’s culture, it’s ‘Celebrity’.
To prove my point, one of the ‘Celebrity’ contestants was introduced as a potter who presents a pottery programme, presumably when not pottering about his private premises.  No, his name wasn’t Harry.

If making clay pots qualifies someone as a ‘Celebrity’ then anyone in my street who knits woolly jumpers or is a whiz at putting flat-pack furniture together should be dodging autograph hunters and the paparazzi on a daily basis.

But it gets better. Or worse, depending on your viewpoint.
To allow the ‘Celebs’ to earn a few points and not embarrass themselves (although two of them did) the questions asked were simplistic ones about TV soaps and 2021 pop songs.

But the one that caused my jaw to drop was…I kid you not… “Oink! is a sound made by what farmyard animal?”  If my hobby was making clay pots, I’d have thrown one at the screen.

So now you know where I’m coming from, have I got your wheels turning?

I’m in need of some help here. My gran would always tell me to “never cast a clout until May is out” and to be honest, for most of my childhood, I never knew what on earth she was talking about.  Apparently, since the 15th century ‘clout’ is a word that has been used to describe a fragment of cloth or clothing and could be spelled as clowt, clowte, cloot, or clute.

It’s here that the saying took on two meanings, rather than just the one original.  The new meaning was a reminder not to be too quick to chuck the winter clothes before cooler days during the month of May were most likely over.  I think that has happened this weekend!
I’d put my best thermals away in the evening and woke up to chilly rain this morning. My gran was right!

We do have our fair share of rain here in Wales, but the older you get, the more likely you are to utter the words “the garden needed it though” after a nice dry spell.

Do you ever use phrases handed down from generation to generation? Let me know!