RADIO REVIEW:IT HAS finally happened. RTÉ has launched a range of digital radio stations. And, in other news, I finally bought a Betamax video recorder and a Sodastream. What better way to kick back, gas up some fizzy pop, and do what all the kids are doing in the 21st century? So, now that we're all up to speed with the modern world we may all proceed.
The digitals all arrived in the same week, like a bunch of unwelcome relatives with their hyperactive kids trailing behind in oversized jumpers and long faces. Worse, they all talked and played music at the same time.
RTÉ Junior plays pop, party jingles and nursery rhymes to lull your baby to sleep. The adult equivalent would be listening to folk drone on about waste incinerators and the need for public service cutbacks. Zzzz . . . At 9pm, RTÉ Junior hits puberty and suddenly turns into RTÉ Chill. They're both on the same stream, so at least they only talk one at a time.
Robotnik's Random Rampage(RTÉ 2XM, Wednesdays) is cooler than anything on 2FM because it's on digital, you know what I mean, like? Chris Morrin aka Robotnik turned the tracks. He is 27. (I hate him already.) He likes all sorts: from the Sex Pistols to Smog. Who likes smog? It's dangerous while driving and bad for your cardiovascular when jogging.
"I hope you've enjoyed the songs I've played and the words I've said," Robotnik said. He also hopes we hear him again soon. "If I see you again soon that's probably known as stalking. Goodbye." There's a hip, faux-confused, quasi non-sequitur, stream-of- consciousness twentysomething tweaking. Try it some time. Don't stalk me, Robotnik, I'll stalk you.
On Monday, RTÉ Choice had National Public Radio's funny quiz programme with Peter Segal, Wait Wait . . . Don't Tell Me, and a dizzying, random array of globe-trotting news bulletins: Radio New Zealand, Radio France Internationale and Radio Vaticana with Kelsey Brennan-Wessels ("Pope Benedict meets with Italian university students").
Next up was World Service of the Voice of Russiatalking about the depreciation of the rouble against the dollar and the most awfully stilted, semi-grand jingles and theme music this side of the Cold War. The posh female announcer's accent was airlessly flat. She appeared to have had so many elocution lessons that she almost ended up sounding Dutch.
On Tuesday's RTÉ Choice, NPR's Morning Edition(weekdays) celebrated the 75th anniversary of the Bloody Mary, created by Fernand Petiot in the 1920s. (Some say he just added Tabasco to George Jessel's original drink.) Petiot's grand-daughter, Carol Bradley, said, "God bless all the bartenders and waitresses who made the Bloody Mary what it is today."
RTÉ Choice is my favourite digital guest, but I still like sending out my own invitations and seeking out my own radio gems online, so on Wednesday I moved back to the trusty VHS of radio: Morning Ireland(RTÉ Radio 1, weekdays) for the big interview of the week: Brian Lenihan. Back to the 1980s, that old warm fuzzy/scratchy feeling of polyester/cotton mixes.
"I am saying to people that we are living beyond our means," a composed and non-jargonesque Lenihan told Áine Lawlor. Talk about a flashback: The Right Hook(Newstalk 106-108, weekdays) later that day played Charlie Haughey's quote about living beyond our means. Haughey spoke slowly and purposefully, like he always knew he was making history.
Lawlor was relentless with Lenihan. The questions kept on coming. On Aer Lingus, Lenihan said the Government had to be "very, very careful" about disposing of its stake, and then there was the no-new-taxes chant for 2009, which George Lee pointed out later doesn't include the December 2009 budget, so better not to get too excited about that.
But this vintage economic term shivered me timbers. Lenihan told Lawlor, "We're looking next year at deflation". Forget about shopping in Ikea in Belfast, deflation at its worst has the potential to empty all the Sodastream gas from the economy. Irish radio needs to get happy, like NPR, which actually plays Stormy Weatherduring the bearish stock-market reports.
On the homefront, during David Coleman's parenting slot on Wednesday's Moncrieff(Newstalk 106-108, weekdays), a mother wrote in to say her five-year-old is calling her "stupid" and now her two-year-old is starting. Coleman said, "I would suggest ignoring it". Makes sense.
I was even less sympathetic towards the mother who said her 15-year-old doesn't have a sense of humour any more. "Now he thinks my jokes are stupid," she said. Here's what happened: the 15-year-old's brother wanted a cookie, but the cupboard was bare, and mother said, "A little mouse seems to have stolen the last one." "You could have cut the atmosphere with a knife," the mother wrote, "Why is everything so serious?" Coleman suggested that perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to refer to the son as little. "Or a mouse," Moncrieff added, wisely. If I could add my thr'pence, the word "stolen" probably didn't help much either, suggesting a selfish and furtive growing pains hunger.
Coleman then went all scientific, saying the teenage brain undergoes physical changes that increase the emotional intensity. "They almost have to experience the emotion at the highest level possible," he said. "Or," Moncrieff added, "maybe this parent just isn't funny enough." The most obvious answer is usually the best.
qfottrell@irish-times.ie