A Question of Sanity

Another day, another quiz show audition. Once again I’ve decided to put myself through the mill and tried to get on a television quiz show and this time it’s a trip to Glasgow to audition for “A Question of Genius”.

I’d caught some of the first series of the show earlier in the year and I thought, with it being pitched at a good level, that I’d like to have a go. Unlike Alan Partridge, they got a second series and I got my form in just before the closing date.

Within a week I’d got a call back from the BBC – the BBC are so much more efficient at running quiz/shows shows than certain independent production companies I could name – and I did the usual over-the-phone 10 questions of general knowledge. I got 6 out of 10 and, if I were being honest, I wouldn’t have scored more than 7. For one of them I jumped in too early and missed the obvious answer but the other three, well, I wouldn’t have known them if they’d told me the answer first!

Thankfully, six was enough to get me an audition and yesterday morning I headed off to the Wild West, along the M8. (I used the day of driving along the central belt as an opportunity to road test a compilation I’d put together for a colleague. Is that just a man thing?) The M8 used to fill me with dread. It’s very much a survival-of-the-fittest road with more than a passing resemblance to a game of Musical Lanes. It’s like an automotive version of Mike Reid’s 70s kids show Runaround, only without the annoying cock-er-nee spiv. G-g-g-g-gooooooooo!

Unlike Scotland’s capital in the East, there’s lots of off-street parking in Glasgow but I still plump for the security of the Glasgow Science Centre car park. Good value (£3 a day) if you’re only visiting but I can see why local workers would choose to park on the surrounding pavements.

I arrive an hour early and kill some time picking up leaflets in the Science Centre. I wander over to the BBC’s brand new Pacific Quay headquarters. Not surprisingly, I’m the first there and I park myself at the little coffee shop. It wasn’t my first visit to this building, having been there for another audition and also a job interview. Needless to say, the audition went better than the job interview. Maybe more job interviews should include puzzles, quizzes and pieces to camera.

After finishing the Depress crossword (DePress is my name for the Dunfermline Press, a parochial maudlin local paper of my hometown), I head back to reception and am soon joined by three others. I get chatting to Alan and John but Carlos, a Mexican with more than a passing resemblance to the bass player from Metallica, keeps his own council. The first question on occasions like this, after the opening “Are you here for the audition?” is something along the lines of “Have you done any of these before?” In a bizarre coincidence, John and Alan had both been on Superscot about 20 years previously but done nothing since. Maybe they were just keeping their quiz powder dry. (Superscot ran from 1983 to 1989 and was presented by Jane Franchie. It was revived in 1990, this time as a family show, presented by Jackie Bird).

As if by magic, a production assistant, who I recognised form a previous audition, appeared and whisked me off into the building. Unfortunately we didn’t get to enter the central area, which resembles a cutaway of an ocean liner, and instead were ushered down a side corridor. Initially we entered a room with a toilet symbol on the door but, rather like the unmade edition of Mr Benn when he becomes a quiz show contestant, we entered an area called The Lab. Thankfully it was The Lab and not The Lav, although I was concerned, having been recognised by Rebecca, that my chances had already gone down the pan. Considering we were about to go through the quizzing equivalent of having soap sprayed in our eyes it seemed rather apposite. Being an old hand at these auditions, I was ready for whatever was thrown at me but Carlos seemed very nervous. John and Alan were very laid back.

First of all we were given a couple of forms. One is a form where we promise to hand over our first born away to the BBC if we’re naughty and the other another general knowledge quiz. It would have to be a bloody brainy general to know all five answers to the questions. I got 2 right and made one decent guess and two random ones. I wonder if it’s another filter to weed out quizzing “pros”, like the sort you got on “Are You an Egghead?”

After the introductions – there were four people, including Rebecca, and a camera – we played a game of charades. I volunteered to go first but my enthusiasm wilted slightly when I realised I couldn’t actually think of one – the pressure had started. One of the watching team fed me “One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest” proclaiming it was a difficult one. Alan got it after “One”. John then did a book that only he had read and no one else had ever heard of. After Alan and Carlos’s shots we moved on to playing the quiz itself.

With no buzzers available we had to handclap when we wanted to answer the question. The aim of the game in the first round, called A Question of Knowledge, was to reach 5 points. You got a point if you buzzed in successfully on the first question and then you got to choose between a 1, 2 or 3 point question on the same topic, although you were still up against everyone else. I successfully negotiated the first round and normally one contestant would drop out but for the purposes of the audition we all stayed in for the second round.

A Question of Judgement was up next and this time the aim was to reach 7 points to ensure survival. The only change from the first round is that should you get the opening question right, you would choose your opponent on a head-to-head basis and at what level. Again the questions fell nicely for me and I progressed through first. As someone who enjoys quizzes I had to resist the urge to join in as I sat out while the others were going through their questions.

We didn’t get to play the subsequent rounds (A Question of Pressure, A Question of Strategy and the final A Question of Genius) and instead had a coffee while we prepared to do a piece to camera. As the camera was being shuffled into the corridor outside John and Alan started having a light-hearted argument about how many films John Wayne had been killed in!

We all had to provide a specialist subject for the final Question of Genius round, should we get there, and I have plumped for UK Top 40 hits of the 1980s. It was between that and the Eurovision Song Contest but I figured 50 years of foreign singers and songs would be too much to swat up on. Better to choose a subject that I know reasonably well to begin with so that I would have less swatting to do. That’s the theory anyway. Only time will tell whether I made the right choice. I might not even get the opportunity. Carlos had gone for another musical topic with “The Cure” while John and Alan went for movie-related choices, namely “Films directed by Steven Spielberg” and “The films of John Wayne”. Sadly we didn’t get to show our prowess on our specialist subjects and instead were ushered one by one into the corridor.

I went in last and tried to sound interesting. I mentioned the hospital radio work but kicked myself afterwards for forgetting to mention my Best Newcomer nomination. As there was only four of us the audition was over in an hour and it was back to life, back to reality.

On the two previous aforementioned visits to Pacific Quay I had got lost on the way out. On one occasion I got lost around Ibrox, one of the last areas I’d like to stay longer than necessary. On the other occasion my ShitNav told me to go right, which took me straight into the face of two lanes of dual carriageway coming towards me! Only a handily-place parking space saved me certain death or, at the very least, a good peeping at. I can just see my epitaph: He came, he quizzed, he left empty-handed. Using the power of Twitter I asked Radio Scotland presenter and all round good egg Jim Gellatly for directions and he recommended using the “Squinty” Bridge. Multimap doesn’t include this new landmark.

It’s always hard to tell how auditions have gone because it’s so hard to predict what the production company is looking for. I thought I performed well on the quiz section and had an okay piece to camera – I’ve done better - so only time will tell if I get on. Successful applicants will be told in two to three weeks, with filming taking place in Glasgow in January. One concern I have about my chances is my recognition by the charming Rebecca. When she asked me if we’d met before I asked, “Brainbox Challenge?” She rallied with, “Who Dares Wins”. I didn’t get on “Who Dares Wins” so I’m hope that doesn’t count against me.

Anyway, it’s over now and it’s just a question of waiting.

IGNORANCE IS BLISS FOR THE RUDE BOYS (AND GIRLS)

When e-mails began to replace letters as the communication tool of choice it was felt that the quicker missive would get answered just as fast. Sadly, it seems that the reverse is happening.

People and companies who can’t be bothered to reply to even the most basic of e-mailed correspondence are increasingly frustrating me. In some cases these e-mails are being deleted without being read. One company in the latter category is RyanAir and now I can add the BBC to that ever-growing list.

Last year I had an interview with the BBC in Glasgow. I chased them up for more than a month to get feedback. It was bad enough not getting the job without having salt rubbed into the wounds. Two weeks ago I received four Read Receipts on my PC from the Beeb, except that these e-mails hadn’t even been read. My original e-mails were sent last August and now they were deleted without being read.

I e-mailed a Radio 2 this week for some basic information for a piece I’m putting together for The Scotsman’s Recommends section. There wasn’t even a “we’ll get back to you” type of reply.

A simple enquiry to Ryan Air as to whether a service that was scheduled to begin was going ahead was deleted without being read. A subsequent e-mail asking why was, you won’t be surprised to learn, deleted without being read.

Since December I have had a similar problem with the ILA (Independent Learning Account) Scotland. In the first week of December I sent them an e-mail asking for confirmation that I could put some money from my 2008 Account (£200) towards my 2009 course. I had read somewhere (I can’t find it now) that I could as long as the course was booked within 2008 and the course took place within the first 6 weeks of 2009. The reply to the e-mail was to ask me to phone their Helpline!

This week I tried again and I was told that, “Due to data protection and for security purposes, you will have to contact our freephone helpline again for that information.”

My reply was swift:

“You can't be serious!

"Due to data protection and security purposes"? In what way is answering a very simple query by e-mail breaching data protection and security? Thousands, nay, millions of companies manage to answer questions by e-mail every day. This is a joke. My course starts on Monday and I can't get a simple answer to a simple question by e-mail. My tutor has asked me to get confirmation of my entitlement IN WRITING. If this lack of communication of behalf of the ILA causes any problems with my course I shall be making a complaint.

Unbelievable.”

Health and Safety? Data Protection? Nanny State? The world has gone completely hatstand.

As regular readers will recall I sent a missive to the PR company for the Brits to ask some questions and make a few comments. I was told that it had been forwarded on to someone at the BPI. Again, I’m still waiting.

I e-mailed E.ON twice recently and I’m still awaiting an answer to both questions - one was aksing when they were going to bring the prices down and the other was to request a change of tarriff.

I just think it’s rude, very very rude.

As this point I should give some praise to Orange because they got back to very quickly after I e-mailed them recently. Unfortunately when it came to dealing with the two issues I had called them about they were as useful as a trapdoor on a canoe. I keep receiving messages from Orange themselves about Data Services and then a follow-up about installing these data services. I’m a bit dense about the inner workings of my phone and no matter whether I replied Yes or No or simply ignored them they continue to come. The person who called me from Orange listened to my problems and put me through to someone on the Indian sub-continent whose first job seemed to be to sell me a Raccoon package. If I wanted a Raccoon package, I’d have asked for one. He said the messages would stop and they haven’t.

I also pointed out a problem I had with the phone in that since May 2008 I have no record on my phone of All Calls, Answered Calls, Dialled Calls and, most importantly Missed Calls. Again, I was told this would be sorted and again it hasn’t been. I’m loath to leave Orange because I get £5 for every time I top up with £50 but this is the second time they’ve cocked up. I won’t bore you the details of the previous problem but I did 100 free texts out of them.

I’m still waiting to hear from the Dunfermline Press as to why my recent comment was deleted. Someone printed something similar and it wasn’t removed.

Isn’t it ironic how poor communications companies are at communicating? It’s good to talk (but only if we can sell you something first!)