BBC Scotland | Jeff Zycinski's Blog

Loose Ends

Jeff Zycinski (BBC Scotland) — Thu, 01 Jul 2010 12:52:56 +0000

I'm riddled with guilt. Every time I think about this blog I realise that I just abandoned it many weeks ago with half-hearted excuses about the new Radio Scotland blog being a better alternative. But that was just rude and I ought, at least, to tie up a few loose ends before I shuffle off.

Firstly, thanks to everyone who has followed this blog over the past few years. Officially the hit rate was only about five or six thousand a week (the figures have actually gone up since I stopped updating it!) but I was always amazed because I've met so many complete strangers who have told me they have read it .

I also have to admit that reader interest in my views on radio was always fairly low compared the number of questions I got aboiut my family life, my relocation to Inverness or how the Zedettes were getting on at school.

They're fine, by the way. Both are now teenagers with everything that comes with that. Too cool, now, to approve of my online revelations about them. It had to happen.

More recently I've been asked how my decision to quit alcohol has worked out. Well, that's now nine months since our Under the Influence campaign and therefore nine months since I touched a drop of booze. I've taken a liking to those cheap bottles of alcohol-free lager - great for supping on a summer's night - but find myself challenged by checkout staff every time.

"You know that's non-alcoholic?" the ask.

"Yes, yes,"

"It's just that we don't want you bringing it back later."

It's a strange reversal. When I was younger I used to be challenged for buying the real stuff and had to carry a passport to prove my age. Those days are long gone. Long gone.

What else? What else?

Oh yes, the Woolies store in Inverness finally has a new occupier. It's another one of those Poundland shops.

And the camping trips continue. I finally bought a half-decent tent and we've had some great overnight stays in Aviemore, Gairloch and Dornoch. No midge bites so far. Mrs Z tends to stay home looking at overseas holiday brochures. She can dream.

And Rascal, the dog, is alive and well and can sniff out a biscuit within five hundred yards.

But that's it really. The end, I think. I will be making the odd appearance on the new BBC Radio Scotland blog, but mainly to talk about broadcasting issues. So you want have to put up with tales of my endless train journeys or my faithful allegiance ot Inverness Caley Thistle. Lucky you.

Bye for now and thanks again..

Making Your Mind Up

Jeff Zycinski (BBC Scotland) — Thu, 06 May 2010 23:20:04 +0000

To be honest, I got off the train in Inverness and went to the polling station expecting an argument with the Presiding Officer. Apparently she'd been quite rude to Mrs Z. earlier in the day, making fun of her Polish surname and asking why on earth she hadn't stuck with her maiden name. What a cheek!

She didn't try any of that nonsense with me, I'm happy to report, mainly because I gave her the kind of manic stare that comes with a four hour train trip from Glasgow. I've seen small children burst into tears with just one look at me. My own children too.

So, I took my ballot paper and went into the booth and there and then I changed my mind about who I was going to vote for. Despite what I'd told the YouGov telephone pollster the previous week, I was still swithering right up to the moment I had that pencil in my hand.

I made my decision based on very local or family matters...on money, schools, hospitals and so on. On issues that have been devolved to the Scottish Parliament and which I knew had little relevance to the Westminster election.

Not logical but slightly better than the reason given by a colleague who told me she was voting for a candidate who had the same first name as an old friend and that he - the friend - had been a nice guy .

Let's see David Dimbelby analyse that.

There's Only Three Terry Butchers?

Jeff Zycinski (BBC Scotland) — Sat, 01 May 2010 19:28:52 +0000

Caley-Thistle's manager,Terry Butcher had a shock announcement for the fans in Inverness this afternoon.

"Next Thursday, " he said, "I'm running for Parliament".

If the General Election was held today and his name was actually on the ballot paer, then I'm sure he'd be in with a chance. Instead he'll have to made do with the party atmosphere rather than party politics. That's what it was today at the Caledonian Stadium after the home side beat Dundee one-nil and the First Division trophy was formally handed over.

That victory - though not necessary - certainly added to the euphoria. There were balloons, fireworks and fans dressed as Butcher look-alikes. The two I met certainly looked more convincing than the Rod Stewart "tribute performer" who had attempted to entertain us before the game, but who was let down by a under-powered sound system that meant his words and music were swept away from the crowd and are probably still drifting towards Wick.

But it's good to have something to celebrate and today was such a constrast to that Saturday at the end of last season when we watched our side crash out of the SPL.

Yet in the midst of the celebrations, some people still had work to do. There was BBC Radio Scotland's Charles Bannerman, for example, chasing the players for an interview and waiting until well past teatime for a word with the manager himself.

There may be three Terry Butchers, but there's only one Charles Bannerman.

No Don't Tell Me...I Know The Face.

Jeff Zycinski (BBC Scotland) — Tue, 27 Apr 2010 21:46:58 +0000

One of the occupational hazards of working at the BBC is that you are constantly saying hello to people you think you know, but only because you've seen them on the telly. I've lost count of the times I've given a hearty and over-familiar greeting to actors and presenters only to watch them stare back at you with expressions of confusion or fright. Then, a few minutes later, it dawns on you that you've been behaving like a celebrity stalker.

It happened to me again today, here at Pacific Quay.

I was queuing up at the ground floor tea-bar and was using most of my available brain power to decide between a chocolate or blueberry muffin. Then this bloke in a suit passed me and I knew the face but just couldn't think of his name.

"Hi, how you doin?" I mumbled in that semi-polite but offhand way that I do when prioritising snack choices.

Then it struck me. Not the muffin, the name.

Gordon Brown, no less, the actual Prime Minister. I turned around to see him and his entourage sweep out of the front door and take up a position in front of the Clyde where he was being interviewed for TV.

I should have realised sooner, because I'd been told he was coming into one of our radio studios for a live link-up with The World at One. I'd even commented on the presence of a mysterious suited figure who had arrived in advance of the PM to check that everything was in order.

"Is he from MI5?" I'd asked a colleague.

"Not quite," she told me, "He's the producer from Radio 4."

An easy mistake.

Well If You Want My Opinion...

Jeff Zycinski (BBC Scotland) — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 14:33:57 +0000

Do you want to know how I'm going to vote? Do you want my opinion on the various party leaders? How about my thoughts on a hung parliament? Well, of course, my employer frowns on me telling you things like that but if you want to tease it out of me then all you have to do is call me at home. That's what the lady from ICM did yesterday.

"Would you be able to spare a few minutes to answer some questions...I'm not trying to sell you anything."

I wasn't convinced.

"Didn't you phone me ten minutes ago and ask about my gas central heating servicing plan?"

"No. That wasn't me. Honestly."

"Oh alright then. Ask away."

So she did. First I had to say whether on not I was likely to vote at all. Or unlikely, very unlikely, very likely or not sure. Then I had to tell her who I was going to vote for and who I voted for last time around... "if you can remember"... and then, on a scale of one to a hundred, I had to rate the four party leaders in Scotland and the three leaders at Westminster. I was still expecting her to sneak in a question about my boiler, but it never came.

I answered quickly and convincingly, like I knew my own mind. Trouble is, ten minutes after the call, I began to doubt some of my own answers. I wanted to phone her back with a few caveats and modifications, but the opinion poll system doesn't deal in that level of sophistication.

Anyway, you know how everyone says they don't know anyone who has ever taken part in one of those surveys? Well, now you do. And if you notice some strange findings in tomorrow's newspapers you can blame me.

I Telt You So

Jeff Zycinski (BBC Scotland) — Thu, 22 Apr 2010 08:55:08 +0000

And so, as predicted, Inverness Caledonian Thistle have won the First Division championship and will return to what we like to call "top flight SPL football" next season.
The official confirmation came last night as Dundee went down one-nil to Raith Rovers. I, like so many Inverness fans, was listening to Richard Gordon's commentary on Sporstsound and got a real sense of those Raith players dying on their feet as the struggled through the last ten minutes of the game and then had to endure a decade or so of injury time.

Naturally I've been telling people that I never doubted Terry Butcher's ability to create a league-winning side and have been directing sceptics to the blog entries I wrote at the start of the season, including the pre-season friendly with Clach.

Only our Sport editor Tom Connor knows the truth. He recalls me calling him a few months ago with rumouirs that Butcher was for the axe...and that I was mumping about the possibility of ICT dropping into the second division.

But if anyone asks, I never made that call.

I've Been Underground

Jeff Zycinski (BBC Scotland) — Wed, 14 Apr 2010 19:04:17 +0000

Wow. Sorry about that. I didn't mean to take such a long leave of absence but I hada week's holiday in Fife and somehow I lost the blogging bug when I was away. But I hope you've been enjoying the new BBC Radio Scotland blog. Everyone here at the station seems to be very enthusiastic about contributing entries so please give it your support.

The East Neuk of Fife was lovely and that's despite the fact that we decided to rent a cottage there just as the snowstorms returned to Scotland. That gave us the perfect excuse to go underground at Scotland's Secret Bunker. Do you know it? It's the former nuclear hideout designed to house the Secretary of State for Scotland in the event that the Russians started dropping bombs. It became obsolete towards the end of the last century and is now a tourist attraction. You can sit in the situation room and experience the sound and vibrations of a simulated nuclear blast overhead. Chilling and bizarre.

There's also a BBC radio studio which was installed so that programmes of information and "soothing music" could be broadcast during the crisis. I saw a Tom Jones L.P. sitting on the rack. Imagine that. Scotland being wiped out to the sound of "it's not unusual".

But what music should we play when the world ends. Hmmm...sounds like a theme for Bryan Burnett and Get It On.

I'm told that today's nuclear bunkers are much deeper than the old Cold War designs and I have no idea if there are broadcast studios within them. At least, no one has briefed me about them.

It's thoughts like that which make you realise your occuply a very lowly place in the BBC pecking order.

But not low enough.

Bruce Takes A Bow

Jeff Zycinski (BBC Scotland) — Tue, 23 Mar 2010 14:09:20 +0000

It's about time someone told Bruce McGregor that he has to choose between playing the fiddle or playing rugby. I'd do this myself, but my credibility as a sportsman doesn't stretch much further than the ten pin bowling alley. My reputation as a musician, meanwhile, was badly dented by a ill-judged kazoo performance some years ago. Basically, I sucked.

Bruce, on the other hand, was the founder member of the legendary Blazin' Fiddles as well as being the presenter of our weekly Music Cafe programme which will be launched on our airwaves next month. Every Wednesday afternoon, Bruce and his guests will be hearing about all that's good on the Scottish music scene...everything from rock music to opera with lots of organ stops along the way.

That's if Bruce can keep himself fit, of course.

He's just been telling me how he was persuaded to take part in an over-30's rugby match and ended up exacerbating a hand injury to the point where he had to neck a half bottle of painkilllers and actually strap his fiiddle bow to his arm with gaffer tape for a gig.

Now if he'd strapped the rugby ball to his hand....

The Company Of Women

Jeff Zycinski (BBC Scotland) — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 22:22:13 +0000

Despite what you might have heard about us media types, I actually feel a bit awkward when people offer me free tickets to gigs. It's not that I worry about some Daily Mail expose of my free-loading lifestyle, it's more about the potential for something to go wrong when you turn up at the venue and tell them your "name's on the list". I think you're supposed to feel like a VIP in these circumstances, but I always feel like a scrounger.

Well, the Glasgow Comedy Festival is in full swing and my nervousness started tonight at Oran Mor where comedian Ali Park had invited me to see her 'Company of Women' show.

"No that's not on tonight," said the girl in the box office. This was confusing, to say the least and having just walked from Pacific Quay to Byres Road (on doctor's orders) I was trying to work out how much I could claim back in shoe leather. But then the girl continued.

"No it's a comedian called Ali Park tonight."

"Yes, that's who I mean. I think... my name's on the list."

And so, a few minutes later, I was sitting in an audience of several hundred laughter-seekers only six of whom were of the male persuasion. I was one of those six, in case you were wondering.

Now, I thought it was a good show. Ali - and her two co-stars - do a fine job with their observations of womanhood in 21st century Scotland. She divides her spiel into different episodes including one about a dieting class and another involving a Govan mum preparing for a hen-weekend in Spain. It's funny stuff.

I smiled, I laughed, I clapped.

But some people just don't know how to keep their emotions in check. There were women behind me actually weeping with laughter...others were screaming and squealing and literally falling off their chairs. I mean it...actually slipping onto the floor and still laughing like a drain. That's what I call getting your money's worth.

When the show finished, I hung around in the bar for ten minutes, sipping a diet cola and hoping that Ali would appear so I could thank her for the invite. But I was now the only man in the room and I began to think that my "hanging around" might be misconstrued as "lurking". You know the type of blokes I mean. They usually look like me.

Besides, I had another venue to get to...another place where a friend in the comedy business had told me he would leave my name at the door.

But of course he hadn't and the girl at the box office left her post to consult two different managers before telling me I couldn't get in. Well, to be fair, I noticed the queue of young guys behind me was turning into an ugly mob so I told the girl not to worry and made my escape.

Of course the "friend" phoned fifteen minutes later, full of apologies and clearly worried that I would hold a grudge against him for the rest of his life.

Now, does that sound like me?

Look Who's Coming To Inverness

Jeff Zycinski (BBC Scotland) — Mon, 15 Mar 2010 16:09:35 +0000

A few weeks ago I was told a secret. It wasn't just any old secret, but a huge, important BBC secret. No, it wasn't the details of the Corporation's Stategic Review or anything as trivial as that. It was about Doctor Who coming to Inverness later this month along with his new assistant.

It's all part of a series of screenings and live appearances ahead of the new series of the TV show. The new Doctor - Matt Smith- and his assistant Amy Pond (played by Inverness acress Karen Gillan) will be turning up at Eden Court Theatre to meet some local schoolchildren. There are no other tickets, I'm afraid, which has disappointed the many people who have been calling our reception desk here at Culdithel Road.

I got let in on this secret because the tour organisers wanted to involve BBC Radio Scotland in some way and so it has fallen to our very own Bryan Burnett to host the event. He's also planning a special Science Fiction theme for his Get It On request show that week.

Now as soon as I was given this information I wanted to blab. But you don't mess with the BBC Press Office, especially when it comes to 'the doctor'.

Not unless you want your career exterminated.

The Joy Of Text

Jeff Zycinski (BBC Scotland) — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 16:09:52 +0000

Comedians get huffy when you steal their jokes, so I have to be careful how I proceed here. I want to tell you about a funny routine I saw Miles Jupp perform at our Funny Turns gig in Glasgow this week. He talked about news programmes that invited viewers and listeners to respond to stories by texting in with their own opinions. He wondered if this would eventually lead to reporters doing no work at all and simply asking the audience for their stories...even weather predictions.

He was, of course, going for laughs, but the issue is one that does seem to divide people. There's no doubt that texting is incredibly popular. As an experiment, try asking a group of friends or colleagues if they have ever sent a text message to a radio show. Then ask how many of them have ever taken part in a phone in. I reckon the texters out-number the callers by at least ten to one. That's a bit of a problem for a medium that relies on audio.

But now ask that same group if they actually like hearing other people's texts read aloud on the radio. You'll probably get another divide...fifty-fifty perhaps.

And there lies the problem. You hear something on the radio, you want to agree, disagree or share your own story and a few thumbles on your mobile phone allows you take part with relative anonymity.

Then again, you tune in half-way through a news programme and you hear text comments on a story before you've heard the actual story. Do you care what 'Jeff from Inverness' has to say about Iraq? Sometimes? Often? Never?

Here at BBC Radio Scotland we've had a few robust discussions about this. There's a feeling that texts (and e-mails) work best in music programmes - like Tom Morton and Get It On - when listeners get a chance to influence the actual content of the programmes.

But what about news programmes?

Perhaps texts work well in those bad weather situations when people are sharing their own experiences and allowing us to build up a picture of what's happening on the ground.

Or when listeners have direct experience of a particular issue and can add real journalistic value to the debate. A teacher talking about class sizes, for example.

For one silly moment I had thought that we might raise this issue during Good Morning Scotland and ask people to text in with their opinions. Then I slapped myself and sat in a corner for half an hour.

So, instead, I'll ask you. What do you think?

And while you're at it....any idea if we're in for a good summer?

What To Tell The Students In Ayr

Jeff Zycinski (BBC Scotland) — Thu, 11 Mar 2010 22:25:46 +0000

From time to time I get invited to a college or university to talk about myself for an hour. I rarely refuse these opportunities. This afternoon, for example, I was in Ayr speaking to the Broadcast Production students at the University of the West of Scotland. It seemed to go well and, on reflection, there was no need for me to have parked the car by the emergency exit with the engine running.

At the start of these campus visits, I always ask which other "guest lecturers" have been speaking to the students. Often I hear that embittered newspaper journalists have blazed a trail of misery, describing an industry on its knees and warning that no jobs are available. Indeed, before I set off, I went on to Twitter and Facebook to ask for tips for my speech and that discouraging sentiment was echoed by a few - but not all - who commented.

Tell them to train as a plumber, said one. The implication being that a job in the media isn't a real job..or that it has no future.

Now I'm not saying there isn't an element of harsh reality in these downbeat messages, but I'm not sure how useful that is to young students. I tend to the view that hard work, determination and, yes, a bit of good luck will see you through...as long as you keep your options open and are flexible in your approach.

That's what I tried to say today in Ayr and I also tried to communicate something of the sheer fun and variety that comes with a career in radio. I didn't mention the bad days or the hours spent trying to keep pace with the latest BBC strategy announcements.

No, I played them some clips of radio programmes and told them how much the producers enjoyed their work.

Was that wrong of me?

Bloggers Of Tomorrow (Well, Monday)

Jeff Zycinski (BBC Scotland) — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 12:24:08 +0000

Look at the people in this photograph. What can you see? Cheerfulness? Enthusiasm? Intelligence?

Or treachery?

For be not fooled, these are the people aiming to usurp my position in the BBC blogosphere by launching the all-new Radio Scotland Blog. They plan to give you a proper behind-the-scenes glimpse of the programme-making process and are promising photographs, videos and all sorts of fancy bells and whistles.

They'll take your questions and get answers from the "decision-makers" and they'll provide timely information on how to get tickets for forthcoming events. There will also be "guest entries" from our presenters and producers.

It all sounds wonderful, but of course this means I'll be pushed to the sidelines with my ramblings about delayed train journeys and failed diets. The beginnining of the end.

The new blog starts on Monday. Alan Braidwood (the chap in the middle) will be the Editor ably assisted by Karen Miller (left of the picture) and video specialist Simone Byrne.

So, a rival blog. This will be a test of your loyalty, dear reader. Don't betray me.

But I might even read it myself.

Funny Turns

Jeff Zycinski (BBC Scotland) — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 23:26:35 +0000

A few weeks ago we came up with a funny idea. We wanted to create an annual event that would be a sort of showcase of Scottish comedy. Once a year we would invite some of the hottest names on the circuit and ask each of them to perform about ten minutes of material. We'd target those names who had an existing relationship with BBC Scotland either on Tv or radio. The tickets would be free and this would be a small gesture of thanks for our listeners. We called it Funny Turns.

The trouble was, we had no idea of how popular the event would be, so booking a venue - especially at such a late stage - would be tricky.

Finally we settled on the Ferry (formerly the Renfrew Ferry) which is now moored at Andserston Cross in Glasgow.

We made five hundred tickets available on the BBC audience line website and, well, they were all snapped up in under two hours. So if you didn't get to hear about this that's because the tickets were gone before we could do much publicity.

Anyway, it all happened tonight...the audience turned up...laughter was achieved and next year we're gonna need a bigger boat.

You can hear an hour of the best bits in a special programme at the end of the month. Meanwhile, here are some of the pics.

Just Passing Through

Jeff Zycinski (BBC Scotland) — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 17:13:48 +0000

Driving down the A9 has little to recommend it compared to sitting in a cosy train waiting for the food trolley to make its third pass. But it had to be the car today because I'm horsing around Ayrshire later in the week and I don't own a horse. Still, one advantage of driving alone is that you can listen to the radio at full volume, sing along to the music and shout back at the news headlines. Is it just me or have things come to a pretty pass when politicians now boast that they are "no longer being investigated by the police" or that they "plan to pay" their taxes? I mean, they're actually boasting about this. Honestly.

Another good thing about the car is that you can pull off the road any time you like. That's how I found myself in Pitlochry this afternoon. I stretched my legs one at a time and then went for a little wander around the side streets, taking photographs of old churches and so on. Call me Captain Excitement.

"Do you want me to take one of you?" said the old man in the bunnet.

Quick as a flash I retorted that I didn't want to ruin the picture, but he was a bit deaf and I had to have three attempts at explaining this little jest before I gave up.

"Pitlochry is such a lovely town," I told him, simply to change the subject.

Now I've had experience of Pitlochry folk before and I've noticed they don't handle compliments very well. They either frown or give you a kind of suspicious glance.
The man in the bunnet went for all-out disagreement.

"Things have never been as bad as they are now," he began and then gave me a ten minute lecture on how the town had changed so much since his days as a local councillor. I got the impression his political career might have coincided with Neville Chamberlain's, but I couldn't be sure. He told me that, in the good old days, the trees were taller and the birds sang sweeter. There was a lot of talk about quarries and how special slate had been sourced for local buildings...but not now....now some modern houses were being built with...(and you could tell he could hardly bring himself to use the words)...with Marley roof tiles! I actually thought he was going to vomit right there in the street.

This chance encounter was going along very nicely, but I could almost have predicted what was coming next.

"and now they're building these affordable flats and you've got no idea who your neighbours will be. Could be people of any skin colour."

Ah well, time for me to be on my way. I wandered down through the main street and noticed more than half a dozen empty shops. But the information boards were packed with notices for forthcoming events and activities and there was a lively throng of people crowding into the box office for the Festival Theatre. Signs of hope after a long winter.

You don't see any of that when you're on the train.