MAD ROD GILCHRIST

Sorry Rod, I know you've got a sense of humour and you will forgive the nickname, actually it was meant as a compliment, at least from me. Rod was my boss at New Era TV, run by the Daily Mail out of a warehouse in Fulham. Times were manic as we were working for the short-lived British Satellite Broadcasting. One thing I can say is that, unlike other BSB firms I worked for, when the whole caboodle collapsed the Mail honoured its cheques. We had loads of resources and I ran an excellent news programme. We filmed the most expensive house in The Bishops Avenue, quite an eye-opener. The builders bought it for £3M and were trying to sell for £25M. I guess it's still the most expensive one in the street; massive amount of land, wonderful rooftop views of London. I'd live there, guv, honest I would. However, my stint with New Era severely damaged my happy clappy hippy memories. Unlike the Beeb, where there is a massive well-oiled system allowing programme makers to use whatever music they want with the greatest of ease, we had to do all our rights applications ourselves. One day that meant faxing Roger Waters to use some Floyd. Unfortunately, the reply came back that we could have UK rights but not World Rights. Mad Rod wanted World to sell the progs here, there and everywhere. And we didn't even have an audience! Faxing a hero, indeed. There are many more Rod stories but the reason I mention this is that some of my closest friends live in the middle of nowhere in Italy. This week they supped wine on the beach, or at least in the sun, and guess who should sit down at the next table. You're right. Great memories, generally, even though a minimum of a twelve-hour day six days a week.