Two months ago I went to an open day at my local radio station. Being naturally nosy, there was no way I was turning down the opportunity to take a peek behind closed doors. Curiosity may have killed the cat. What it resulted in for me was a thirteen week commitment to making a weekly radio programme. Thus, Losing The Plot was created.
I’ve got an eccentric resident poet, Peedie Mo, to wrangle. Most weeks, I also have a special guest to engage with, reassure, and encourage. My special guests generally don’t regard themselves as special in any way. They wash the dishes, take out the bins, nag the kids to get up… In short, they do all the mundane stuff that most of us do. But, like the rest of us, each of them has a story to tell.
Sure, some of the stories might be more obvious than others. Like the strings teacher who occasionally jets off to Japan to play in front of an adulating audience before scooting back to Scotland in time to clean out the guinea pig cage. But the smaller, less obvious stories, have been just as fascinating. The care worker with a zest for life. The person who was trapped in a water tank as a child and fears nothing but fear itself. And, of course, there’s Mo. My resident poet is a former primary school teacher, scuba diver and chicken liver picker. Clothes as colourful as her personality, she is a force of nature.
Two months ago I walked through a door because I wanted to see what was going on behind it. What I discovered was a rich seam of fascinating stories buried in the everyday.