Children In Need

The time has come, as the walrus said, to gently take Terry Wogan outside, stand him up against the BBC wheely bins, and shoot the obsequious old toe-rag.

Radio 2 is a bit of a mess anyway, with its early evening schedule clashing head on with its daytime and later evening output, and its Sundays are just a waste of electricity. But this week its really been showing-off its capacity for the crass.

I am sick enough of Wogan's blethering idiocy on his morning show, and so The Son and I sometimes try Radio 1 on our dangerous drive down the A34 of a morning. This morning was typical, except today I noted the times. We tuned in at 08:22 and heard the last three lines of something by Oasis. By 08:39 when we arrived at school we had heard one other song. That's 17 minutes and one song. And rather too much of Moyles and. Odd. Punctuated. Sentences. With. Obtrusive silences in. Them. On average that equates to about four songs an hour. For a music station? And so The Son suggested we don't bother with Radio 1 again. It's a shame because he's really into his music, and is exactly the age that Radio 1 should be trying to attract. Anyway, I always do what he says, so we won't.

But we do want some music in the mornings, and local stations tune in and out and spit fire at us as we swoop up and down the hills around The Ridgeway, so we end up with Radio 2. And this morning we both got increasingly irate. I've not seen The Son quite so wound up, but for a young chap he's got a fine head on his shoulders. He was fulminating about some arse spending £9,000 on a ticket to the Footballer of the Year award. As The Son said, paying ten times what something is worth doesn't make it worth any more, so what's the point? It's just a sop to the conscience of the obscene riches of some people (it's not obscene to be rich, but it is obscene to be lulled by this tripe and salve your conscience this way). If you want a ticket, buy one and if you want to give to charity, give. But that paled into insignificance for some utter contemptible sef-agrandising prat who paid £40,000, yes £40,000, to appear with the oleaginous Wogan on the Christmas edition of Who Wants To Be A Millionaire. It makes the giving conditional, therefore it is not giving, it's buying and the whole thing is sick.

Now I realise that I sound like an old curmudgeon (so what, get your own blog, and you can too) and worse, I could sound like I don't approve of Children in Need. Actually I do approve, but I also believe very strongly that we shouldn't have children in need of anything and we certainly shouldn't have to rely on charity to provide rescue for them when they get into need. That is society's job. Well, a civilised one. But today I wonder - this is worse than anything that we saw in the much derided 80's and 90's under what people call Thatcherism.

And nor do I criticise a guy for spending vast amounts of moolah if he has it and wants to. But if he wants to give to charity, go ahead and give. And while you're at it, surely it is better to give to established charities like Barnardo's that has been working quietly away for many years, than to some disgraceful sleb fest, based on all that is gross in our reality TV, sick society. If it's real giving, why not do it quietly, with thought and care. You can be tax efficient about it too, and increase the benefit to the charidee of your choice. But don't fall for the pandering to the worst kind of filthy greed and vanity that Radio 2 has been flogging today. It's sick. And the way Wogan kept gloating about how the bids had gone up over the years made it even more gross.

If people gave this money because they wanted to support a charity then that's fantastic but they don't. They want the greedy stuff for themselves, and somehow that makes it sick. And, frankly, empty. They are being manipulated to give obscene amounts for what? Vanity. Even the music auction, where people make modest promises of a few pounds is OK, as is the £1 lottery running for various prizes. But the sick auction of made-up prizes so that lazy rich slebs and not-slebs can pat each other on the back and pretend they are making a difference? Do me a favour. It's the worst sort of golf-club mentality and deeply shallow vanity. What's wrong with giving quietly and efficiently? Why do you have to have the pant-wetting excitement of hearing your name read out on Radio 2 by a fat Irishman who is way, way past his sell-by-date?

Please, please get rid of the Charidee Okshun. It is so obscene that even Radio 2 producers must be feeling a little nauseated today, in between spending too much on champagne because they bust last years total. The whiff of hypocrisy is strong over Broadcasting House. Still, I suppose that means it fits right into this 21st century world we live in.

And yes, yes, I know there is an off button, and I exercised my right to use it. As I do most mornings when it's Wogan.

It's always such a relief when Johnny Walker stands in for the Tired Old Geezer.