The never-ending media circus

I've got an interview on Radio Lancashire on Thursday morning, in case I have any Lancastrian bloglings who might want to tune in to the breakfast show. I don't know when exactly, it was going to be 7:55 tomorrow, but they've postponed the bit about forgetting names and anniversaries by a day. I'd be interested to know what fascinating subject has bumped me.

Of course, they're under the impression that I might have some words of wisdom to impart on the subject of remembering names. Anyone who knows me knows otherwise, but I didn't have time to point this out - having asked the Alzheimer's Society people for my contact details (a new way to find me that I haven't encountered before), the conversation went "You'll do it? Great, I'll call you five minutes before we go on air. Bye." Still, it's not going to be an in-depth searing exposé, judging by the five-minutes-before-the-news timeslot. It'll go:

Tony Livesey: So, Ben Pride-more, you're the world's number one memory man, do you have any advice on how we can remember those important wedding anniversaries?

Me: Gor, I dunno.

Tony Livesey: Great! And now it's Hercule Poirot with the news.

I'm actually annoyed with my memory today. I woke up singing a song I'd been dreaming about (it was a strange alternative title sequence to Tiny Toon Adventures), but at some point in the morning I totally forgot the tune, although I can still remember the words. It's frustrating - I think it was an original tune, at least that's the impression I had this morning when I could remember it, but now it's disappeared from my brain the sceptical part is saying "oh, it will just have been one of those Japanese songs you were listening to yesterday, you can't compose music." This is the second time I can remember writing about something like this happening in my blog. Next time I dream a song, I'll grab a tape recorder when I wake up and sing into it. I don't own a tape recorder, so there'll be a certain amount of running down the street in my pyjamas and then hanging around outside... a shop that sells tape recorders, which come to think of it probably don't exist any more. It's all MP3s and DVDs these days. Modern life is rubbish.

Wait a minute. I do own a tape recorder. It's sitting there on top of my telly in plain sight. I haven't used it since I was practising reciting pi in 2005, but for pete's sake. What's wrong with my memory today?