Video killed the radio star...

Yesterday morning, Miss R and I hit the airwaves of our local radio station.  I have always wondered at the sheer bravery of the DJ at welcoming us into his studio for a couple of hours every few months.  I mean, my sister and I are renowned for our ability to talk non-stop drivel (you blog readers will appreciate this I'm sure) but for some reason, Marlow FM feels that this is what its public want.  The radio station has an average 1000 pairs of ears listening at any particular time, except when we're on, when radios all over Marlow are switched off as we're introduced, or at the very best, some glazing over of the eyes happens.

My sister has been running a very regular spot on the show called 'Don't Get Me Started', which gives her a verbal soapbox to complain about everything she doesn't like or approve of in Marlow.  She has covered some quite extreme and thought provoking subjects over the years, which have set the tongues of Marlow a-wagging.  Some of my favourites have included:

There are two Chinese takeaways in Marlow - why are both closed on a Monday?  Could they not have discussed this before deciding on their prospective nights off?  What do you do if you fancy a Prawn Ball on a Monday night?  Eat pizza, that's what...

Parking in Marlow, especially on a Saturday morning (this is the time I visit, and probably the only day that Miss R drives into the town, so I sense an ulterior motive here).  My sister is pushing for a Park and Ride in Marlow.  There is about as much chance of this happening as me running the country, but she persists with this on a regular basis.

Discarded beards after the charity Santa Run every year.  Apparently, they get everywhere, and a special Beard Sweeper has to be employed to scoop up the hairy face décor after the event.  I have told her that as she gets older she may be able to grow her own and do away with the clip on version, but I don't think she thought I was being helpful.

Dog poop on the pavement - this appears frequently (both on the show, and on the pavement) and my sister is an advocate of the 'Got a Wagger? Be a Bagger' ethos.  She regularly walks my two dogs, and they're terrified of doing a number 2 when they're with her, preferring to hold it all in till they reach the relative safety of Oxfordshire.

Interspersed with all the doom, gloom and dog poop, are the lovely bits.  The DJ champions Marlow so well, promoting the wonderful things it does to bring its people together.

Maybe a Monday night (when both Chinese takeaways are closed) would be the perfect time to suggest a huge get-together for all the wonderful Marlovians.

I'll bring the Prawn Balls...

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