Training in journalism before the 1950s was based mainly on luck. Getting a job at a newspaper, for instance, could be pure chance. After all publishers did not have a permanent post available for any or every bright young spark who popped into the editor’s office. You had a better chance if you lived inContinue reading “From copy boy to the editor’s chair (if you’re lucky)”
Category Archives: My blog
The last days of real journalism
Q. What links Friday; a war over eggs; and coffee? A. The (ig)noble art of journalism. Daniel Defoe, who gave us the tale of Robinson Crusoe, the sailor marooned on a deserted island with only a single companion – Man Friday, was the first well-known journalist. He was also a spy, a pamphleteer, a traderContinue reading “The last days of real journalism”
1969 – a year of great happenings
A lot of things happened in 1969: The Beatles made their last live appearance — on a rooftop; They also released their 11th studio album — Abbey Road; Brian Jones quit the Rolling Stones and less than a month later was found dead in his swimming pool; Michael Caine starred in the British film TheContinue reading “1969 – a year of great happenings”
Changing places — changing faces
There was more in changing my place of work to Rhyl from Holywell than just being able to have a lie-in or go home for lunch. Obviously I was working with new people and they were ones I could learn a lot from. I was also meeting new people and old friends when it cameContinue reading “Changing places — changing faces”
Better watch out if Rupert’s about
When I was working in Australia in the late 70s early 80s there was a joke doing the rounds about Rupert Murdoch – a joke which had an undertone of reality. “Rupert Murdoch arrived in (insert town or city name) and booked into a hotel. The following morning he sent his secretary out to buyContinue reading “Better watch out if Rupert’s about”
Finding my place within the pack
There are hierarchies within journalism and the cub reporter, like the wolf cub, is at the bottom of the pack. Above this you get a junior reporter, then a senior, then a chief reporter. Sometimes the chief reporter might also be the deputy editor – then you get the head honcho, the editor. Somewhere inContinue reading “Finding my place within the pack”
Back at work and the pressure’s on
Working alone at the Holywell office of the Flintshire Leader had its good points and its bad points. In many ways I have always had an independent streak. I prefer to control my own life. Take transport, for instance. I hate going anywhere by train or bus because it makes me reliant on other people:Continue reading “Back at work and the pressure’s on”
When the Pals marched off to war
Today marks 104 years since the start of the Battle of the Somme when almost 20,000 British soldiers died just on that one day of a battle which lasted over four months. My grandad, Harry Lloyd was there with his Pals because when the call for volunteers went out in 1914 from the Earl ofContinue reading “When the Pals marched off to war”
I’m a handy chap in the kitchen
I have always enjoyed cooking. I don’t just mean knocking up the odd meal of fish fingers and chips (although the time I did do that I was accused of burning the fish fingers). No, I mean the real thing. The reason I probably enjoyed it can be pinned down to two things – IContinue reading “I’m a handy chap in the kitchen”
Hair and gone with a quick snip
This afternoon I feel like Samson, not when he slew the lion with the jawbone of an ass but as he was after Delilah gave him a swift back and sides and robbed him of all his strength. Yes, I have had my first haircut since lockdown began. I didn’t even have to leave theContinue reading “Hair and gone with a quick snip”
Robin's Nest 