Ground Hog Day

Well it aint Baton Rouge, but my next gig is Brighton and Radio Sussex.
Up at 6.00. Stumble into the bathroom. Stick out my tongue to see if I’m getting better, seems my body is beginning to slough off the toxins of the last month.
A bad back, that is being treated by Brian, is finally settling down.
Out of the bathroom, slip into my clothes, down the path to get the car, in the driving seat and at 6.21 I leave the comfort of my own garage.
A slow – no more than 45 miles an hour – drive. Through Lewes, into the tunnel, out the other side and 20 miles an hour into Brighton.
By the time I reach the pier, the clock tells me its just after 7.00.
Down the front, right at the traffic lights, up past the clock tower. Park outside the BBC. Knock on the door and the lovely Steve Cranford gives me his fob.
A trickle into the car park, that is so narrow I have to breath in when I attempt the 23 point turn to get my car in one of the parking bays.
Into the studio, and we’re off.

Down into the bowels of the earth.
Clip on a tiny mic. Look into the camera. Call Tunbridge wells who start the camera, deliver a 30 second tease to the show. Unclip the mic and go back upstairs.
Across the road for some porridge.
Eat it at the desk.
Downstairs and set up my side of the studio. In comes Mr. Miller.
A pre rec here, a two way with BBC Surrey there, a chat with the breakfast presenter.
Another tease. and by 9.04 it’s all systems go.
Every 30 minutes a new subject, Diabetes, Baby Boomers, Archeological digs in Eastbourne, Lara Mead’s fabulous raw TEMPLE CHOCOLATE, and the callers call, the producer produces, the broadcaster broadcasts the engineer engines, by 12.00 it’s done.
Wayne, from the BBC Bookshop, which is closing this week – WHY? – then walks me back to the garage. he presses his fob into the wall and voila the gate slowly ascends like a rattling portcullis. I climb into my little red car.
Roof down, out goes all the talk. All the noise. All the news, all the travel, all the weather, all the natter natter natter.
1.00 home.
Yesterday Jim drove me to Chigwell to have my second session. Thank God my back no longer stabs and the sciatic nerve has calmed down.
Today I got home, ate last nights curry, then took to my bed.
Slept for 2 hours.
Just read the papers, wrote this, and tonight I shall have a bath and get ready for tomorrow.
Up at 6.00. Stumble into the bathroom. Stick out my tongue to see if I’m getting better, seems my body is beginning to slough off the toxins of the last month.
A bad back, that is being treated by Brian, is finally settling down.
Out of the bathroom, slip into my clothes, down the path to get the car, in the driving seat and at 6.21 I leave the comfort of my own garage.
A slow – no more than 45 miles an hour – drive. Through Lewes, into the tunnel, out the other side and 20 miles an hour into Brighton.
By the time I reach the pier, the clock tells me its just after 7.00.
Down the front, right at the traffic lights, up past the clock tower. Park outside the BBC. Knock on the door and the lovely Steve Cranford gives me his fob.
A trickle into the car park, that is so narrow I have to breath in when I attempt the 23 point turn to get my car in one of the parking bays.
Into the studio, and we’re off.