When the immortal BBC Radio One DJ John Peel took his act on the road and down the hall to Radio 4, some of the latter station's over-protective listeners reacted a bit strongly. It was as if he'd brought a truckload of giant seed pods into the studio with him, and it was only a matter of time before the whole schedule let down its guard and was evilly transformed into pop DJs talking about their domestic lives.
However, when you come right down to it, Home Truths (BBC Radio 4, Saturday) is about as disruptive as a bowl of porridge, even on the station which started broadcasting the other day with highly solemn, early morning "birthday greetings to the Prince of Wales".
Yep, Peel's own charming family saga is highly resistible, but he and the programme's team mix it and the experiences of listeners into a very digestible recipe. Thus they can get 10 good minutes, and that's really good minutes, out of the times you hid some valuables in the house - and never found them again.
Then there are the forays from the studio. The other week one involved "house music" - not the dance-club sort (wrong station) but something involving a couple of guys who come to your home and craft tunes from the objects and spaces they find there.
Oh yeah, we heard some samples. Banging on the dog dishes, "We're in the pantry" the house-musicians wailed repeatedly, in what Peel adroitly described as an Indonesian style.
What did the lady of the house think? "Well, the dogs are getting very excited, because they think they're going to be fed." You gotta love the English.
Home Truths usually can make anything funny, or thinks it can, from infestations to dysfunctions. But not so much last week: for November 11th there was an equally oh-so-English emphasis on death and war, based on personal stories, found letters etc. And it was easily the best Remembrance Day programming I heard.
Radio 4's Peel and peals alike were available in glorious stereo via the FM cable 'round my place, but (at the time of writing) when I go looking for Radio 5 Live, I'm still finding silence. For now, it looks like time to consider moving a precious pre-set. In spite of Anna Livia FM's US Election Night cock-up (the station's own phrase for the error chronicled here last week), the Dublin community broadcaster is the obvious choice, well ahead of FM104, to move up to position five. A sure sign that an election is not far off is the way politicians are turning up in their numbers on programmes such as Off the Cuff (Anna Livia FM, Friday). Liam Lawlor, no less, gave the show a jocular few minutes last week, parenthetically telling presenter Catherine Corcoran and her listeners, "I was involved in the setting-up of your station, so I hope it's going well."
Corcoran is a polished interviewer, and her conversation with Lawlor was firmly and deliberately in the breezy, non-contentious category. The topic for the evening was first kisses, and Lawlor came over all Drimnagh on us, transporting us back through the decades to the Mourne Road community hall, to the girl he was "pally" with, to Monsignor Delaney and the way he might whack you with the walking stick if you got out of line . . .
Off the Cuff couldn't leave it at that - Corcoran uses the music from The Exorcist as the show's signature tune, after all.
What about a best-ever kiss? Lawlor testified cautiously: "Oh God, oh that'd definitely have to be Hazel, my wife . . . best to play safe, as they say . . . I don't think Hazel is listening to Anna Livia FM, but in case she is or anybody that knows me, I'd better stick with that . . ."
There was rather less innocence being projected on media show Commercial Breakers (Anna Livia FM, Tuesday), where the very funny presenter Arthur J. Deeny introduced guest Michael Valentine by saying: "I've never filmed Leonardo DiCaprio making love, but I know a man who has . . ."
The slightly campy Valentine set us up, we thought, for a good sneer at Leo's expense - "angelic looks . . . $23 million for five months' work . . . the best actor there, no doubt about it . . ."
But, but? Ah, great, here we go, sniggers at the ready: the underwater love scene in The Beach, Leonardo in his G-string, setting up the cameras, and . . . and . . . "Oh. My. God. That boy has so much to be proud of . . . The G-string pinged off the far side of the pool . . ."
Damn. As Deeny said himself: "I hate that. I much prefer it when they fall in love with chimpanzees."
Harry Browne can be contacted at hbrowne@irish-times.ie