Garth George: Thank God for those who fill in between ads on radio

COMMENT

I wouldn't know Larry Williams if he stood in front of me, but I owe him a big debt of gratitude. For years now Williams, host of Newstalk ZB's drivetime show, has helped to keep me sane as I have coped with the increasing evening rush-hour traffic on the Northwestern Motorway.

The same goes for his periodic fill-ins - Tim Dower and Mike Hosking. They - and their regular guests - keep me entertained, amused and informed on the tedious drive home to the extent that by the time I arrive I am not only in better humour but fully informed of the day's main events.

But the real attraction - nay, fascination - of their performance is the way in which they manage to keep so many balls in the air at once and only rarely fumble one; how they keep everything running strictly to time; and how they can skip from one subject or interview to the next - often as diverse as it's possible to be - with an astounding seamlessness.

In the morning on the way to work I listen to the pragmatic Leighton Smith so by the time I get to the office I have a pretty fair idea of what the public are talking about - a valuable insight for my working day.

I seldom get to listen to Paul Holmes' breakfast show because I am otherwise occupied at that time of day - taking a walk and spending more than an hour reading what I need to in section A of the Herald. But on those occasions I have listened, I have recognised in Holmes the consummate professionalism that seems to be a hallmark of Newstalk ZB.

Back when I started in the newspaper game - and was so full of myself I nearly burst - my irascible old chief reporter told me in no uncertain terms: "Just remember, Mr George, that you have just one job to do - and that's to help to fill in the spaces between the ads. And remember, too, that those pearls of prose you are so proud of writing today will be wrapping fish and chips tomorrow night."

It's the one thing I have in common with my brothers (and sisters) in the radio game - they, too, are employed to fill in the spaces between the ads.

But when I sit down to write an article, I have the time to read it through thoroughly, correct it and revise it until I am satisfied it's the best I can do. And I am secure in the knowledge that it will pass several more discerning pairs of eyes before it gets into print.

But the Newstalk ZB people - Holmes, Smith, Danny Watson, Williams, Murray Deaker, Peter Montgomery, Kerre Woodham and their understudies - do their thing live and it fascinates me the speed with which they can think on their feet (or their bums, as the case may be). The drawback, of course, is that what comes out of the mouth is instantly on the air. They can't take it back.

Which is why I have a great deal of sympathy for Paul Holmes in the situation in which he finds himself - a minor indiscretion and all hell breaks loose.

They were brave things for him to say in the stultifying, repressive, smarmy, dishonest, hypocritical, politically correct atmosphere in which we live.

What horrifies me, though, is the reaction. I thought I was beyond being surprised by anything, but the eruption over Holmes' words have astonished - and sickened - me.

Fortunately, I have been able constantly to keep in mind that it is only a small minority of New Zealanders who are raising a stink - not more than one in five of the population at most - and that many of those have axes to grind or, perhaps, scores to settle.

If you count out the inhabitants of the nether regions of academia - the inventors of political correctness in the first place - the artists, the writers and others of a self-styled intellectual elite, who all live in a different world from the rest of us, the minority becomes even more minor.

The average New Zealander couldn't give a stuff what Paul Holmes had to say about Kofi Annan or female journalists; they're happy to be entertained, informed and amused by a thoroughly professional, talented entertainer cum journalist cum radio announcer cum TV personality, with whom they identify because he is flawed just like they are (and they, unlike others, know it) and every now and again he lands in the poo, just like they do.

The man and woman on the Mt Roskill bus will continue to listen to him on radio and to watch him on television - to keep him well up in the ratings - because, like Larry Williams and the others, day in and day out he makes their lives just that little bit more enjoyable.

But what I would really, really like to know is what Mr Annan would say to Holmes if the two could meet this week. I have no doubt that that conversation, if recorded, would make all the spiteful, choleric jumpers up and down look more pathetic and contemptible than they do already.

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