I just walked in to my desk through reception. There was only one person sitting there, serenely reading the Irish Times. Gay Byrne.
There is something inherently wrong with the broadcasting giant that still walks amongst us having to wait politely in the reception area he strode through on his way to work for so many years.
I would have gone over, just to pass and say good morning but he would have no idea who I am. he gave Ruth and I a great interview one Christmas Eve on the phone about the Late Late Toy Shows of yore and I did sit around a large table with him and his lovely wife at a function once a couple of years after that and he briefly offered me some advice, but I’d become a bumbling idiot trying to explain who I am and rightly so.
If you do ever pass him on the street, smile and be polite, as we would, NONE OF US, be doing radio today if it weren’t for him whether we know it, or like to admit it, or not.
One day, if I am extremely lucky, that man sitting in reception will be me.