Written and posted just before our Prime Minister announced a month-long England-wide lockdown…
In much the same way as our parents and grandparents talked of themselves (and others) as having had a “good (or not-so-good) war”, I fancy that once (please God) this now not-so-novel Coronavirus is behind us, we’ll talk about what we’re currently living through in similar fashion.
Me, if I had to rate my pandemic experience thus far on a scale of nought to 10, with zero being “Covid? What Covid?” and 10 being a total horror show, I’d give it about a three. Maybe four. I had a soft landing; I was lucky enough to be welcomed back into my family home for the duration of the (first) lockdown. A strange experience, but these were, and are, strange times; and we made it work. I chafed against being confined to barracks (comfortable though those barracks were) and became fixated about taking my hour-a-day’s exercise (and not a minute less). My alcohol consumption went up. And I indulged in a lot of introspection. Self-examination. Not difficult, as I consider myself endlessly fascinating.
Others had an even easier time of it; and certainly there were many who had it tougher. But since lockdown ended, life – my life, at least – has returned to something I recognise as near-normal. Being a writer is a solitary profession anyway, and working from home makes it even more so. Leaving aside whether that’s healthy or not, work having (thankfully) picked up it does mean I can spend great swathes of time in total denial that Covid is even a thing. When I do finish for the day and venture out to the shops or the pub, I don’t regard wearing a mask as much of an imposition – though I’d hate to have to sport one for hours at a time.
While early 2020 saw many of us hoarding loo roll, pasta and pulses, one commodity, or diversion, we have not been short of this year is – or are – things to watch, or listen to. Lockdown provided a perfect opportunity to gorge on visual and audio treats – to take our fill, and then take some more. To binge on box-sets, plough through podcasts and – for once – catch up with catch-up.
Personally, I scared myself silly rewatching the terrifyingly prescient Years and Years; sought light relief in Sex Education and Young Offenders; and discovered Danny Baker’s Treehouse podcast (I know he’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but he’s a hero of mine. The first 60 or so episodes are available free on various platforms; accessing more recent content means paying a small subscription fee). I’m currently working my way through another podcast: My Dad Wrote A Porno – breathtakingly rude at times, but bloody funny.
Lockdown 2.0 (don’t pretend it isn’t coming) will doubtless mean more of the same. Which is all fine; but what I’m finding is that I am increasingly drawn to live broadcasts. Television, yes; but especially radio.
My attraction to live TV is easily explained. I am, or at least I was, a journalist; and there’s still enough of the newshound in me to go in search of up-to-the-minute information. Yes, we can get our news from the papers, and off the internet – and I do both of those things – but there really is no substitute for live reporting, especially with this godawful virus continuing to wreak such global havoc. I’m not interested in what happened 10 minutes ago, I want to know what’s happening now, and what the implications are, or might be, for me and those close to me.
My fondness for live radio, however, runs much deeper. It always has.
Working from home, alone, is not something I mind overmuch. As I say, there are many who maintain it’s not good for a person – and maybe they’re right; though I think it depends on the individual. But I will admit it can get lonely; and whatever the pandemic has or hasn’t done, it’s sure as hell exacerbated that feeling.
Which is why it’s so great, and I’d argue so important, to be able to hear a friendly voice, talking to you in real time. Personally, and as I’ve said here before, I’m a huge fan of BBC Radio 6 Music, which is broadcast from studios in London and Manchester – in both cases hundreds of miles from my home in Norwich.
That doesn’t matter. This is not about being in the same location, or experiencing the same things – the same weather, say – contemporaneously. But, with 6 Music’s mixture of uplifting tunes and grown-up chat, it absolutely is about knowing that the person fronting the programme is doing it live – that you are listening as he or she is talking; not an hour, a day or a week later.
I can’t explain why this matters – but it really, really does.
Podcasts and box-sets have their place. Prerecorded radio shows have their place too; and 6 Music airs its fair share of those.
But live radio is a friend indeed.