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So much for a lay in. It wasn’t actually still dark when I got up, but it was grey. And wet. Of course that doesn’t make going out much fun, and I ended up running for the train and jumping on just seconds before the doors slid shut. We plodded towards London and paused for some time by the body of a fox that had been sliced in half just below its rib cage. A perfect cut - none of the front end had been damaged, and it had happened so recently that the insides were still in tact, and red and wet.

Quite grusome, but at the same demanding the full attention of pretty much everyone in the carriage. I don’t know where the back end was. Probably stuck to the front of an InterCity somewhere near Cromer.

Eventually got to ITN, and bought tea in the canteen. Lifted the lid, smelt the lumps of milk floating on its surface, and promptly returned it, then sat with the replacement to read through my notes while Sam wrote cues for the show.

The morning fairly flew by, as it always does. I called one of the guests for a quick chat an hour before the show to check he was alright with what we’d be doing, and we ended up running through things for a full half hour. I’m glad we did, though, as we covered most of it all over again on air and I’m fairly sure it paid off. I’ll listen back on the recording next weekend.

The rest of it was a mixed bag in terms of tone. Quick paced newspaper review, short and snappy pieces on buskers and open air ice rinks in London, and then more serious, responsible stuff about a couple of Londoners who have been nominated for awards for outstanding achievement - one who is 65% deaf yet uses music to teach kids, and a guy who is HIV+ and spends all his time helping others who find themselves in the same position.

One guest, a theatre director who came into the studio rather than being interviewed over the phone, was shocked to discover I’d actually read the play we were talking about - a rare discovery, he said. As he left, he said he was touched by my preparation, so it was well worth the effort.

Strange.

Walked back to the station - the tubes were refusing to run for some reason, and the barriers were sitting wide open - then rode home in stuffy carriage behind a guy who watched obscene DVDs on his laptop, without using headphones. By the time we got to Chelmsford the air was so full of ‘fucks’, ’shits’ and ‘wankers’ it was getting quite unhygenic.

This entry was posted on Sunday, November 24th, 2002 at 11:00 pm and is filed under Journal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.