"I Wanna Bite The Hand That Feeds Me."

When I'm at home, I usually have the radio on. Unless I'm listening to CDs. Since I'm not working at the moment, I'm at home a fair amount, and listening to a lot of radio.

BBC.

I have several radios. One in each room, plus a couple of pocket radios for when I'm out of the house. (And of course my phone, with the BBC iradio app.)

Here's how the channels are tuned on my digital radios, generally:

1. Radio Scotland
   
2. Radio 2
   
3. Radio 3
   
4. Radio 4
   
5. 5Live
   
6. BBC 6Music
   
7. Classic FM

Do you see a pattern?

You notice, of course, that, being an adult, I don't listen to Radio 1. Ever.

Since I rarely listened to Radio Scotland, I recently retuned the radio in the bathroom so that 6Music is on button 1. This was actually a really, really bad idea. Even a month it so later, I am continually picking the wrong channel. Having 6 on 1, whilst it might make sense in many ways, is just plain wrong.

* * *

I wake up and put the radio on. 6Music. And I listen to 6Music until lunchtime, catching the Sean Keaveney and Lauren Laverne shows. Then at lunchtime - specifically, 1pm - I switch over to Radio 4 for the news and WatO, then whatever they have in the bit after WatO, and the repeat of the Archers.

Then I flick over to 5Live for the very entertaining Richard Bacon show, followed by Drive.

At 6pm, it's back to Radio 4 for the news and the comedy slot, followed by the Archers.

Then, if there is a concert I want to hear, it's over to Radio 3, or, if not, some random jazz off the iPod.

I go to bed and fall asleep listening to Radio 4, Radio 3, or rarely, Classic FM.

Sometimes, instead of Richard Bacon, I might see what the afternoon concert on Radio 3 was, especially during the Proms, or catch the Radio 4 afternoon drama if it were particularly interesting.

And that, generally, was my listening, only occasionally dipping into Radio 2 for specific jazz programmes, or Claudia Winkelman's art show on Friday nights.

Until a couple of weeks ago, when Bacon left 5Live. And I couldn't stand his replacement, the former arts reporter whose name escapes me but who always seemed to fawn to interviewees rather than question them. He was only a stand in, but the new afternoon show on 5Live hasn't grabbed me at all.

Instead of 5Live, then, I have listened to jazz CDs or Radio 3 in the afternoon. Which means I have been listening to a lot more jazz.

Every cloud.

* * *

Just recently, the radio in the bathroom seems to have packed in. Or the two sets of rechargeable batteries have. Or the battery charger.

Either way, the radio itself seems to hold no charge. It is fine on the mains, though of course that precludes its use in the bathroom.

So I'm having to shower in silence.

Another trip to John Lewis is needed, I think.

(When I have a bath, I can use one of the personal radios, with earphones, so I can still catch BH as I soak. I could use the Beeb's radio app on my tablet or phone - but I think I'd rather keep them away from moisture.)

The internet is a strange place, part n of n+x

I went to an arts event tonight which featured, among several artists and poets, a singer who Ford by the name of Withered Hand.

He started a song about the colour of Jackie Onasis' hat; and, at the first attempt, he forgot the words.

The song was based on a picture, "Trying to remember the colour of Jackie Onasis pillbox hat", by Spencer Finch.

I saw the picture in 1994 (the same show I presume Withered Hand went to). It was about the impossibility of remembering the colour of the hat, since the only image of it was shot in black and white.

Since no one knows the colour, it seems only fitting that, first time around, Withered Hand forgot the words.

Knowing the picture - this picture https://m.flickr.com/#/photos/rhythmaning/474787521/ - I tweeted the image.

And Withered Hand tweeted back that he hasn't seen the picture in years. (Presumably 20 years...)

So he has now been reunited with the picture he write a song about, twenty years ago.

And I get to feel smug.