Skip to main content

Bob before Blockbusters

It's not surprising that social media chatter about the death of TV and radio veteran Bob Holness has focused on the popularity of children's quiz show Blockbusters. But as the much-loved host positions himself on the hotspot for perhaps the ultimate in gold runs, it's worth remembering that he had a career before he started playing alphabetti spaghetti.

For me, Bob is forever associated with my childhood growing up in London. As a precocious ten or eleven-year-old, I was addicted to the major commercial radio stations, Capital and LBC. My sex education came from Anna Raeburn and the Capital Doctor on 194 metres medium wave and was supplemented by Philip Hodson on LBC, who hosted a show on 'sexual, marital and emotional problems'. Politics was debated on air during endless phone-in shows, the most famous of which was hosted by the irascible Australian Brian Hayes. The guy was a legend back in the late 70s and took absolutely no prisoners. Unlike current shock jocks who like to wind people up and enter into ding-dong shouting matches, Hayes would just cut callers dead in mid sentence and move to the next line. You called 01 353 8111 at your peril.

Bob Holness started out as an eye-in-the-sky traffic reporter, but soon ended up hosting the AM show with Douglas Cameron, a veteran of BBC Radio 4. They were a great double act and created the kind of show that you just struggle to find anywhere now. Something which gave you serious news, but with a real sense of pace and a complete lack of pretention. There is actually a halfway house between Radio 4 and Radio 5 Live.

Perhaps more than anything, I remember the jingles and commercials.

'On 261 metres medium wave and 97.3 VHF in stereo, this is LBC. Where news comes first.' News, in fact, didn't come first. Because before the news at the top of the hour, there was always the 'early morning call' from Harrods. Other memorable advertisers included the futuristic sounding double-glazing company, Interseal 2000, and Goldrange, who sold clothes from 'the big red building in Petticoat Lane'.

God knows how many radio commercials I heard during my childhood, but I remember getting a job in an ad agency in 1994 and being told in my first week that I had to go to a studio and help produce a radio ad for the retailer Debenhams. I'd never written or produced a radio ad at that point, but I knew EXACTLY what one should sound like. All those years tuned in under the covers had finally paid off.

On Twitter today, a local journalist was making an appeal for anyone in his area who'd been on Blockbusters to get in touch. 'Local man recalls gold run rush,' I joked. 'That's exactly the story I want,' the newshound replied.

Well, there's a story that goes back a little bit further. So if you're interested, here's Bob's partner, Douglas Cameron, recalling their years together on LBC.

I'll have an R and an I and a P please, Bob.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Becoming a Twister board

I spent yesterday evening in an old factory building off Brick Lane playing kids' games with an organisation called Fun Fed. The idea is that a bunch of adults get together and act like children for a couple of hours. We played tag and stuck big coloured discs on ourselves so that we could become human Twister mats. There was an awful lot of running around and I was thinking that I ought to get to aikido a bit more often. Being a child is very hard work.

Buttahz

Belatedly made it to the excellent Evolving English exhibition at the British Library. When I arrived, I found a curator talking to a large group of inner-city London teenagers who'd come with their school. "How do you spell Butters ?" he was asking them. The kids volunteered different spellings of the slang term. Museum man then posed another question. "But you don't actually say it like that, do you?" He was referring, I think, to the glottal stop that replaces the t in London English, although phonetics isn't my strong point. The youth were sent off to record slang in a booth for posterity and my attention was drawn to another class. This group was much younger and seemed to attend an exclusive private school. "Joanna! Come over here and listen to a bit of Romeo and Juliet!" The precocious little kids ran hither and thither, listening to samples of regional dialects on a superb interactive display or speeches from statesmen such as JFK and ...

Captain Birdseye and other people of rank

Regular readers may recall that I once doubted the existence of Yeo Valley. I'd never heard of the Yeo mountain range and I therefore rated the likelihood of there being a valley at somewhere between 0 and 5%. Of course, I had yoghurt all over my face when I discovered that the place really does exist. Somewhere in Somerset, I seem to recall. Today, having read an article in the latest edition of The Marketer magazine, I'm astonished to discover that there really was a Captain Birdseye. Well, I need to qualify that just a little. There was a Mister Clarence Birdseye who invented the fish finger back in 1955. The avuncular, uniformed figure who dominated our TV screens for about thirty years may have been an invention of over-eager advertising creatives, but he didn't blow in on a trawler during a squall. There was actually some connection to a real human being. These revelations about fish and yoghurt are causing me considerable disquiet, because I'm wondering h...