‘It’s a Grundig 350 Deluxe—it’s my brother’s,’ I replied proudly.
‘Oh…I see,’ remarked Timmy, somewhat unsure of what to make of both it and me. ‘Alright, you ready?’ he asked.
‘Yes, thank you,’ I replied, my voice now quivering nervously with the prospect of my first question.
My interview with Timmy was really a thinly disguised list of questions designed to solicit advice to help me get his job one day. I have since been a victim of such ‘interviews’ myself—you can spot them a mile off. Whether Timmy knew what I was up to at the time I could only guess, though I suspected he probably did.
I can’t remember exactly what my questions were, although I think I have a feeling the tape may actually still be on the machine and I think the machine is still somewhere in Mum’s loft. Dare I get it out? I’m saying no—for now at least.
What I do remember vividly is the tall kid coming in again, several times in fact, always to deliver a concise piece of information or ask a quick question about the forthcoming show, speed and economy seemed to be everything between these two—there was a very no-nonsense atmosphere.
I looked at the big white clock on the office wall above the desk where we were sitting, as it ticked towards seven o’clock it counted down the time I had left with my hero. My questions would have to stop soon as Timmy on the Tranny was about to take to the air once again. I thought it best to wrap things up voluntarily.
‘This has been Pete James interviewing Timmy Mallett for Warrington General Hospital Radio. Timmy, thank you.’
Pete James, eh—what was all that about? Pete James was the name I had decided upon using as I sat on the train that afternoon. Why? I don’t know but for some reason I thought it sounded good, much better than Chris Evans. I thought it was the kind of name a DJ might have. I even practised the autograph.
The only question I really remember asking Timmy that night is the one I asked after the ‘interview’ was over, just before Timmy left for the studio to go and do his show.
‘Who is that boy who keeps coming in to tell you things?’
‘Oh, you mean the one who looks like he should be in Depeche Mode?’
‘Yes, him.’
‘Oh that’s Andy, he’s my assistant, he’s fab but he goes back to university next week—now must dash, well done, good luck—byee!’
‘Bye, thanks,’ I replied to Timmy as he disappeared.
I made another mental note, much quicker and bigger than I had ever done before.
‘The big kid is leaving—who’s gonna replace the big kid?’ I thought to myself.
By this time, back in Warrington, I had left Ralph’s to become assistant manager of a small group of rival newsagents so I was already an assistant of sorts, but Andy was assistant to my hero and was leaving at the end of the week.
I couldn’t help feeling that Timmy had volunteered this additional information when there was absolutely no need to do so. He could have just told me that Andy was great and he was his assistant but he hadn’t, he had extended to me the knowledge that Andy was leaving and soon. Why had he done this? Was it merely an unconscious and natural extension to the conversation or did he want me to know this for a specific reason? I couldn’t take a chance, I had to presume it was the latter.
The walk back to the train station was a blur of excitement, all I recall is that I swapped the Grundig over to my left side so at least I would be equally bruised come the next day—the day I would write off for my first job in radio.
Top 10 Things to Consider When Attempting to Make a Move in Your Career
10 Make sure you really want it in the first place
9 Really make sure you really want it in the first place
8 Think if it’s going to help you get where you want to be next
7 Think where you want to be ultimately and if it will help get you there
6 Imagine if you had achieved it and how it would affect your life as a result
5 Don’t consider the financial cost, as long as you can afford to carry on living it’s irrelevant
4 Do consider how much of the next few years of your life it will take up and remember you can never get those years back
3 Have an exit strategy—this is so important
2 Never let your nut rule your gut—ever…the brain is not all it’s cracked up to be
1 For goodness’ sake, get out there and go do something about it!
The boss of Piccadilly Radio was a man called Tony Ingham. I phoned up to find out his name and immediately set about composing my note. It was brief and to the point, I explained that I had interviewed Timmy only last night, during the course of which Timmy had let slip that Andy his assistant was leaving, which to me suggested there might be some kind of vacancy coming up and although I would never presume to be able to fill Andy’s role I was willing to do anything for nothing for ever—in fact I think I said I would do ‘everything’ for ever for nothing—if this meant I could work behind the hallowed doors of the great Piccadilly 261.
I sent the letter before lunchtime on the Tuesday and to my amazement and complete and utter joy, I received a reply from Mr Ingham on the Thursday, I went to see him on the Friday and started work on Timmy’s show on the Monday. Incredible but 100 per cent true.
When I went to see Tony he told me Timmy had mentioned the fact that Andy was leaving on purpose because he thought I was quite sparky and had suspected my interview with him was more a fraudulent attempt by me to find out more about working in radio than anything else and that he would soon need a new pair of hands and why not?
Timmy had stopped short, however, of encouraging me further to see if I would do anything about it myself and now because I had, the door was open. However, the rest from here on in was up to me—and by the way I would be expected to do everything for nothing for ever!
My long working days were about to get even longer. I would start at the newsagents at the usual time, go home in the day, return in the afternoon and then, after locking up, hot foot it off to Manchester up the M62 to do ‘whatever Timmy wanted’.
This started by answering the studio phones, a true baptism of fire. Answering Timmy’s phones was like being a stock market trader at the moment a crash happened but for every minute of every show. He would announce a competition over the beginning of a three-minute record, give out the phone number and expect a correct, fully prepped and rehearsed caller before the end of it. If the caller turned out to be below par you’d better not have been the person to put them through.
To Timmy, the callers were everything and the calibre of kids we put on the air told the other kids who was listening to the show—i.e. only great kids were welcome; as in many things, perception was everything. The kids also had to be spread out evenly from a geographical point of view, an equal number of boys and girls was also a target, although more girls than boys was acceptable as long as it was never the other way round.
I wasn’t Timmy’s only helper—there were six or seven of us, some really sharp little operators, smart smart kids, good energy, lots of ideas and bags of confidence. There was Sally and Hannah and Geraldine and Paul and another Chris; they were mostly posher than me but that didn’t seem to matter. They couldn’t have been more welcoming, there was no air of internal competition—we were all too petrified of messing up to think about anything else.
To work on Timmy on the Tranny was even more exciting than listening to it. Timmy really was a genius. I still think about watching him