I had a lot of fun with Andrew Collings discussing the fact that Mark Oaten claims that it was his hair loss that led him to have three in a bed sex with rent boys and how great it must be to be Maxine Carr's new boyfriend (she's getting married) because it didn't matter what you did, you could never be as bad as the last one. "So I didn't do the washing up, but at least, you know...". Next week I take on the rather intimidating role of hosting the show, as Andrew is having a week off to play with his new cat (he is a girl in many ways, but luckily I like girls). I won't have to "drive the desk" as the producer will be there to do that for me, but still I will have to keep prattling away for three hours with only some records to fill in the yawning gaps of nothingness. I am sure Andrew knows that after a week of me 6Music will be welcoming him back with a parade of some kind, but it will be fun to have a go at being a proper disc jockey, even if someone else will be doing the actual disc horse-riding. Tune in. It will either be good or bad and so should be entertaining for you in either case.
Later over dinner in a restaurant overlooking the Thames and the old city of London I was looking at the gigantic cranes involved in some building project or other. It reminded me of some party I dimly remember being at as a young man in my early twenties, where someone was looking at crane through the window and declared that he was going to climb it. My memory is hazy but I am pretty sure he did, whilst I stood all sensible and fretting convinced he would fall to his death. I don't really remember the outcome, though suffice to say the brave or foolhardy adventurer lived to tell the tale (and better than I have done).
It's the kind of reckless and crazy thing that I would never do (
jumping out of a plane being the one concession to such adventure that I have made in my life). If I climbed a crane I would definitely fall off and die, though part of me wishes I had that sort of devil-may-care death wish. But even imagining such a thing brought me out in a cold sweat. Today's crane was much bigger than the one from all those years ago and its arm or whatever you call the non vertical bit that does all the work was at a very steep angle. It would make me manly enough if I could even climb up to the control centre bit (which presumably would have a ladder), but I imagined inching my way up the arm and then when at the edn, swinging underneath and climbing down the girder thing and on to the hook that I imagined was at the end of it. If I got that far, which I really never would. I'd have fallen to my death within thirty feet of the initial climb, then I would be well and truly stuck. Because although I am pretty sure I could not climb down the girder bit of the crane, there is no way I could climb back up it. I would either have to jump or await rescue and I am pretty sure that whichever of the authorities came up to greet me, they wouldn't be too impressed with my actions. Though if they knew me they should be incredibly impressed as achieving this feat would be my own personal
Touching The Void,.
I suppose some people are made to climb cranes and others to sit back at some distance wishing they had the bottle but knowing they never would have. Doubtless our evolution required that we had such risk takers and also such level headed and height scared cowards. Even at 22 I was such a stiff that I couldn't even enjoy someone else taking on such a challenge without getting all parenty and concerned.
But maybe my imagined crane climb is telling me that it is time I had more adventures. I have been cooped up at home and done that has got my adrenaline racing for a long time (though my adrenaline started jogging a bit at the thought of the crane). Maybe it's time to release my inner Hercules once again. I'll let you know if I think of anything, but I don't think it will be as crazy as crane climbing.
