
Dog Day Discs by Chris Green
I don’t know whose idea it was to come up with the ill-fated Dog Day Discs. I could have predicted the idea of someone picking their selection of the worst eight tunes of all time was never destined to be a winner. But G.O.O.D Radio went ahead with it and local celebrity, Wet Blanket Ron was deemed to be the ideal candidate for the first castaway. It was hoped that Ron’s choices, along with bad breaks that had influenced his choice of these particular tunes, would amuse those with a perverse sense of humour. Perhaps the executives at the station had reasoned that as Room 101 on the TV had been such a success and the crowds had flocked to Dismaland, something downbeat would appeal to a radio audience. Despite its catchy name, Dog Day Discs lacked the appeal of the popular weekly pet hates comedy or Banksy’s lauded art project, and the show was cancelled after its first outing.
Before consigning the programme to the dustbin of history, it is perhaps worth looking for a moment at Ron’s choices. Let’s join host, Lori Lou for random excerpts from the show.
‘So, Ron. You have outlined some of the hardships you seem to face daily, can we have your first piece of music, please? What’s the first tune you never want to hear again after today?’
‘I’d like Achy Breaky Heart by Billy Ray Cyrus, Lori. My Lada was hit by an out-of-control car at the junction of London Road and Black Dog Way in Gloucester. Seven or eight years ago, it would be now but the memory of it has stayed with me. This song was on the radio. It is three minutes and twenty three seconds of nightmare that won’t go away. I was hospitalised with multiple fractures. Femur, tibia, fibula, scapula, and some bones I’d never heard of. I thought the doctors were making them up. My Lada folded like a deck of cards. To cap it all, the driver of the other vehicle was uninsured, and sadly due to an oversight, my insurance was only Third Party, Fire and Theft. I was off work for months.’
‘That is unfortunate, Ron. What bad luck you seem to have!’
‘It was months before I was up to doing the garden, by which time it was completely overgrown. As a result, my landlord threw me out. Stavros had wanted me gone for a long time. Ever since I had accidentally poisoned his ferret. And also, as I had been off work, my meagre savings were gone and it was years before I was able to afford another car.’
‘Moving on, Ron. You have been evicted and you are homeless. Tell us a little about your next disc.’
‘I’m going to go for I Wish It Could be Christmas Every Day by Wizzard. I mean, what a stupid sentiment! Why would any idiot want that to happen more than once a year? And the damn song is the ultimate earworm. You hear this tune when you are out doing your shopping and it’s stuck in your head for days. Worse even than the Slade one. And worse even than that stupid one about letting them know it’s Christmas time. Do you know, Lori, I fucking hate Christmas! Oh, dear! I’m not supposed to say fuck on the radio, am I?’
‘That’s OK. We can bleep it before the programme goes out.’
‘I have nothing but bad memories of Christmas, Lori. Like the time when I was working on the oil rigs and I missed the last train home and had to spend Christmas Day and Boxing Day on a small railway station in the north of Scotland with no money, no warm clothes and no food.’
‘Shall we have another tune, Ron?’
‘OK. Now this one is as bad as it gets, Lori. Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond. But not just because it is a terrible tune. Also because it brings back the memory of my wife, Carrie running off with my best friend, Harry. I had wondered why Harry was so often around the house when I got home from work on the night shift. There were only so many garden tools he could have needed to borrow, especially as he had such a small garden. And the number of times Harry had accidentally left a shirt at the house seemed a little excessive. But when letters addressed to him began to arrive, I began to put two and two together. They had apparently been carrying on behind my back for months.’
‘Oh no! That’s terrible, Ron. Shall we have your next piece of music?’
‘I’m going to pick Who Let the Dogs Out by Baha Men because it reminds me of the time I was attacked by a vicious hyena at the zoo. It bit my leg off.’
‘But looking at you now, the impression I have is that you still have both your legs, Ron.’
‘I know. I think I had it sewn back on.’
‘You what?’
‘Oh no, that was a dream I had. Sorry about that, Lori. I had a bit of an accident when I walked into the studio earlier. Bumped my head and I haven’t felt right since. It is a bit cramped here at G.O.O.D radio, isn’t it, with the low ceilings? Converted basement flat, I imagine. But I do seem to be accident-prone. My therapist tells me it is because of my negative attitude. In fact, a few people have told me that over the years, but I’m not sure. Everyone has their dark moments, don’t they? I suppose that’s how I got my soubriquet though. Anyway, what I meant to say just now was that I was attacked by a Rottweiler at the laundrette, not a hyena at the zoo. It was just a flesh wound. Quite a deep one though. Fortunately, the sepsis cleared up quite quickly. Just a month or two and I was able to walk again. And the owner of the Rottweiler did share his Netscape password with me so I could binge-watch TV while I was off work. I managed to get through three seasons of Dark and two seasons of Black Spot and a series about Auschwitz. Anyway, I’m sure you will agree, Lori, that Who Let the Dogs Out is a pretty awful tune.’
‘I’m not supposed to voice an opinion, Ron. But, yes. It wouldn’t be my favourite.’
‘I expect you are going to ask me soon, if I could only pick one, which tune is it that I would really like never to hear again.’
‘What would that special tune be, Ron?’
‘It would have to be Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond. That is the worst tune in every sense.’
‘Well, Ron. We can make sure that we will never ever play Sweet Caroline again on G.O.O.D Radio. How’s that?’
‘Thank you, Lori. You may at least have one listener then. Unfortunately, though, the loathsome tune has taken hold. You hear it everywhere. They even sing it as sports internationals.’
‘Yes. I believe they do. But, moving on, Ron. Along with the Complete Works of Barbara Cartland and Boris Johnson’s Biography of Churchill, what book would you like to burn on the G.O.O.D bonfire?’
‘I would like to put The Continuing Story of Wet Blanket Ron by Chris Green on the bonfire, Lori, because the author goes to such extraordinary lengths to fictionalise my misfortune.’
‘And finally, if you could choose, what pointless article would you like to rid the world of?’
‘I think I would choose Neil Diamond.’
‘I’m afraid it has to be an inanimate object, Ron.’
‘That could easily be arranged.’
‘Now, now, Ron! This is going out on air, remember.’
‘How about the Lottery, then, Lori? Can Lotto go in the bin? I’ve bought a ticket every week for the last ten years and my numbers have not come up once.’
Copyright © Chris Green, 2022: All rights reserved