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    Join Us After the Break
    Join Us After the Break
    Join Us After the Break
    Ebook76 pages57 minutes

    Join Us After the Break

    By Dennis Mulligan

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    About this ebook

    In the genre of humour, this is a book about a television station located in the centre of Glasgow.
    Scottish Television Ltd. occupied an entire city block. It consisted of three studios plus one tiny continuity studio. All the administration offices were located there too. Sometimes it was a magical place to work. Other times it could drive you up the wall. I left in 1973 to spend a year at Granada Television. I never really settled in Manchester, and the opportunity of a floor manager job brought me back to STV in 1974. I was there from 19681973 and from 19742002.
    This book is written from the perspective of the factory floor, or perhaps that should be studio floor.
    There are no boardroom matters featured. Were not interested in share prices or profit margins. The narrative never goes higher than the second floor.
    I was usually present at the time the anecdotes occurred. If I wasnt, then I knew and trusted someone who was.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAuthorHouse UK
    Release dateOct 28, 2013
    ISBN9781481788779
    Join Us After the Break
    Author

    Dennis Mulligan

    Dennis Mulligan Dennis joined STV as a trainee cameraman in November of 1968. Five years later, he moved to Granada Television in Manchester. A year later, the offer of a floor manager job brought him back to STV, where he spent the rest of his working life in the television industry. He knows where the body is buried!

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      Book preview

      Join Us After the Break - Dennis Mulligan

      AuthorHouse™ UK Ltd.

      1663 Liberty Drive

      Bloomington, IN 47403 USA

      www.authorhouse.co.uk

      Phone: 0800.197.4150

      © 2013 by Dennis Mulligan. All rights reserved.

      No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

      Published by AuthorHouse 10/08/2013

      ISBN: 978-1-4817-8876-2 (sc)

      ISBN: 978-1-4817-8877-9 (e)

      Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

      Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

      Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

      Contents

      Prologue

      July 2007

      November 1968

      The Odyssey Begins

      Late Call

      Is this a repeat?

      Opportunity Knocks

      I wanna tell you, friends, and I mean this most sincerely…

      Canteen

      Wee trees

      Colour

      Men’s socks got noticed

      Makem Country Style

      Is there anybody out there?

      Thingummyjig

      Waggle your wallies, and shoogle your sugarally water.

      Dean Martin

      Shortbread, a lump of coal, and wee dram!

      A Sense of Freedom

      Six o’clock it is, then, sir.

      Highway

      Instant great idea

      Ayr Races

      The big red towel

      Anniversary Show

      A warm thought on a cold night

      Wheel of Fortune

      And on the show tonight…

      Continuity Announcing

      Normal service will be resumed… soon.

      Hear Here

      Brothers in amps

      The Alexander Brothers

      He’ll no ken where that is.

      Soap Operas

      A bus stop on the eleventh floor?

      Garnock Way

      Perfect in every way. Couldn’t be better. Let’s do it again.

      John Toye

      Supergirl

      Kryptonite

      Something Rather Special

      Elusive daffs

      Jimmy Stewart

      Taxi for Stewart

      Mexico World Cup 1986

      Are we nearly there yet?

      Arthur Montford

      Jock Brown

      Harmonious Old Firm

      Football OBs

      Technology. Who needs it?

      Brian Mc Naughton

      In search of the holy quaich

      Epilogue

      Late Call

      Prolog1ue

      July 2007

      No funeral cortège would pass, but like graveside mourners, a small crowd had gathered. Silently and solemnly, they gazed at the partially demolished building. After fifty years of being synonymous with each other, Scottish Television and the area known as Cowcaddens, were about to part company forever. Most of those who had gathered had one thing in common. They had, at one time in their lives, worked in the building which once occupied this site. So often filled with life and with music and laughter, Studio A and the adjoining office blocks had been allowed to fall into disrepair since the decision was taken for STV to move to new premises at Pacific Quay, on the south side of the River Clyde.

      The original Theatre Royal was put out of action as a TV studio in 1969, after a disastrous fire. The new building was constructed during 1973 and was officially opened the following year by Princess Alexandra. At the time, it was the largest and most technologically advanced television studio in the country. Studios were still busy, exciting places back then. It was a thrill to come to work each day, but that ethos has all gone.

      The building now lay empty, silent, and forlorn. Broken windows had allowed water to penetrate, and after just thirty-three years, it was being allowed to die.

      A massive bulldozer sat growling in a corner. Its powerful diesel engine was at rest but not asleep. Its operator emerged from the crowd and moved towards the great beast.

      I joined a group of onlookers watching from Renfrew Street.

      Suddenly, as though on a cue from an unseen floor manager, the bulldozer’s snarls turned to ferocious roars as it sprang to life and moved in for the kill. Its intended defenceless victim was the staff canteen on the top floor. The reach of the bulldozer’s menacing steel arm was only to the second floor, but it was enough. Its assault on the building was almost frenzied. The sound of collapsing masonry was somehow sickening. Familiar corridors and stairwells were briefly exposed to the outside world before being reduced to rubble and consigned to memory. Some artwork from the Saturday morning children’s show Fun House had been painted directly on the studio walls and was identified by some of the younger onlookers. Screams of recognition were mixed with those of dismay. Shattering glass could be heard from somewhere deep within. Then the great beast pushed the canteen walls inwards, causing the whole of the floor to collapse in on itself. A dust cloud rose out of the void like a sandstorm in a desert and billowed towards my little group. The traffic lights at the junction of Hope Street and Renfrew Street were completely obscured. Traffic had been halted in anticipation of

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