morning news

Every morning, Britain wakes up to Radio 4. The Today program features news read in soothing voices, hard-assed interviews and the world's most laconic weather forecasts ("the weather today, miserable"), never more than two adjectives and never a temperature. The show starts shortly after the Shipping Forecast (which deserves its own post for sure) and continues right until 9 when even the latest sleeper will have got up and put the kettle on for the morning tea.

According to the most recent audience figures, more than six million listeners tune into the Today program every morning at one point or another. That's about ten percent of the population, an incredible number for a radio show that doesn't feature music and isn't particularly funny. But it tells you what's going on in Britain and the world, and when the philosophico-religious Thought for the Day comes on, you know it's ten to eight and you'd better get up.

The main draw, though, must be the interviews. When John Humphrys goes after the prime minister or the shadow chancellor like a ferocious bulldog, biting though verbal stuffing for ten to twelve relentless minutes, the heart of anyone interested in the fine art of public discourse must soar. It soars even higher when the two jarring parties, sweating and exhausted, verbally shake hands after the duel: "Thank you for the interview, Prime Minister." – "Thanks for having me on the air, John."

John Humphrys was the subject of a recent interview himself and told about his hatred of alarms. He has to get up before 4am and has a battery of cheap beepers to force him out of bed, each one set to erupt a minute after the one before. Humphrys said that he always gets up at the first beep and angrily turns off all alarms before he can hear the second.

I found this story very inspiring and decided, a good two weeks ago, to give this technique a try. Up to then, I had got up to Radio 4, listening to current affairs, sports and news without much sense of time, usually getting up only an hour after the radio had come on in the first place. What a waste of time, I thought one night as I sat my alarm for 7:58. The next morning I surprised myself by leaping out of bed at the first buzz and being in the kitchen ready to hear the 8 o'clock news on the radio there, the kettle hissing in the background. I felt fresh, full of energy. Since then, this has become a habit. There was one lapse one day, but now I can't imagine it any other way. I even set the alarm progressively earlier.

This morning I was at the institute at 8. Red-and-white tape greeted me, strapped across the back entrance, blocking the door to the goods elevator. I thought of clambering over it but reason prevailed and I went to the main entrance. Same sight there, same tape, but also a guard, standing motionless. I approached with a question mark on my face. "The Biochemistry building is closed today. There has been major flooding overnight." He pointed up the glass façade, indicating faint streaks of water. "The pipe to one of the storage tanks on the roof burst, flooding the top three floors. You can't go inside."

I didn't have any urgent business inside, nor any reason to argue with the poor fellow standing in the cold squalls without much protection. I went to the Library café instead, in search of official word on the situation and feebly damning my poor luck for getting up so early. What were the options? After reading the first emails trickling in from frazzled building and facilities managers and an invigorating macchiato, there was nothing else to do but go back home. By the time I made it, the Today program was over.