Intimate Adventures on Live Radio

So, earlier this evening, I did an interview with Maurice Boland. This was to publicise the book - did I mention I had a book out? Anyhow, all I knew about Mr Boland prior to the phone call was that which I'd fleetingly searched. To wit, a blanket of eye-grinding text and this slightly disconcerting image. The image reminded me of Louis Theroux’s meeting with Jimmy Savile, which I saw for the first time just the other night. It reminded me of the rather sad scene where Jimmy calls a photographer to take advantage of his impromptu gift to a children’s hospital. So I found myself wondering if Maurice Boland was going to be similarly full-on showbiz, a little ‘ow’s about that then, a little Mr Cigar, Mr Cigar. Yeah?

An hour and a half before he was due to call me, I had completed all of the chores that it was reasonable to embark upon and the creeping hives were upon me. So I turned to Twitter for solace. I asked the Twittersphere if I should have a couple of drinks before the interview. The consensus was wholeheartedly in the affirmative...



...so I had a couple of glasses of wine and a bonsai dooby out my bedroom window.

Of course, anyone’s biggest fear before being interviewed, in any context, I imagine, is that something is going to go wrong, the interviewer is going to take against you, ask you a bunch of questions for which you genuinely have no answers and you’re going to make such an arse of yourself flapping about digging holes that you have no alternative but to throw your toys out of the pram and strop off like a retard. Such as, for example, the delightfully placable Peter Davies, brand new Mayor of Doncaster, who exploded into the public limelight on Monday morning like a giant boil, lanced live on air. (If you haven’t heard it yet, please do. It’s an absolute pearl.)

So yeah, that’s the fear.

At around 18:40, I received this:



By then of course, I was already stark naked.

At 18:41 I picked up the phone to Maurice Boland and he very casually asked if I was ready. I said I was. I added that at least I thought so, but he was already speaking again, saying he’d put me through. Oh, I thought. So was that actually him? He said it was. And then I could hear a song ending. Damn, I can’t remember what it was. But it was cheesy. It was then that I realised that this was actually a live interview.

I wasn't expecting that. I'm sure I must have misread an email, but... suddenly he was introducing me. To the good people of Talk Radio Europe.

Urk.

But Maurice put me at my ease immediately - not at all like Jimmy Savile - and it was very good fun. If slightly weird. In fact, it may well have been the most bizarre fifteen-minute conversation I've ever had. In those fifteen minutes, Maurice Boland propositioned me, propositioned my grandmother, told me repeatedly that he was very good looking, asked me if I was bisexual and told me that he loved me.

God, I do hope it’s available on listen again at some stage or no one is ever going to believe me.

It was really quite something and I honestly can’t imagine any of the other interviews measuring up to it. If I can get hold of an mp3, I’ll put it up here immediately, unless of course when I hear it myself, I implode.

Tomorrow, an interview with The Last Word, pre-recorded this time, so hopefully they can airbrush out any minor freakouts.

Jesus, I think I've just remembered asking him if he was trying to pimp out my grandmother. Good God.