DEREK JAMESON

AS you may have seen, the delightful JoAnne Good took the missus and myself for

a paddle in the sea

for the cameras of BBC South.

JoAnne, who normally wakes us as presenter of the breakfast show on Southern Counties Radio, was anxious to know whether we were happy with our moment of glory.

Yes, Jo, glad to be of assistance. We've been around long enough to know that TV feeds its huge appetite with tiny bits and pieces, known as sound bites. A half-hour programme may well have 20 guests limited to 40 words each. The American artist Andy Warhol said that everyone could be famous for 15 minutes. TV has got it down to 90 seconds.

Recently I appeared in a Channel 4 documentary to tell how it feels to work for Rupert Murdoch. My part involved several lengthy conversations with researchers, hiring an hotel suite for the crew and a trip to London and back.

I managed to get two sentences in the finished product and, true to form, received a herogram from the programme makers saying how wonderful it all was.

It doesn't end there. Broadcaster John Humphrys, one of the BBC's top guns, has publicly criticised his bosses. He reckons they are dumbing down news and current affairs to boost ratings.

"Dumbing down" is Beeb speak for producing popular programmes aimed at

a mass audience. Humphrys, voice of Radio 4's Today programme, has been pontificating lately about a supposed decline in Britain's moral standards.

He was upset by the blanket coverage of Princess Diana's death and did not like Panorama devoting an entire programme to the Louise Woodward manslaughter case.

I agree with his contention that a new breed of "friendly" journalists are afraid to ask searching questions. Politicians, sporting heroes and pop stars are turning up on the radio and TV as presenters and reporters. I suspect programme makers are about to ditch those troublesome journalists altogether. Look at the BBC's coverage of the World Athletics. Sue Barker was the main presenter, supported by Steve Cram, Roger Black and Sally

Gunnell. Not a journalist among them.

Switch over to football and there's Gary Lineker, Trevor Brooking, Alan Hansen and all those other superannuated soccer heroes who have become great journalists overnight.

You won't get many awkward questions from that lot. Their allegiance has to be to sport. They are not going to stir it up and upset their mates.

By contrast, real journalists are there to tell people what's happening in the world and that often means making a nuisance of themselves.

So basically Mr Humphrys is right. The BBC has gone soft. Roll on Greg Dyke and his new broom to sort 'em out. He's already made it known he will turn the 9 O'Clock News into News At Ten.

CLAIMS ARE A LOAD OF OLD TOSH

POLITICS is a dirty game. The big guns are out to get John Prescott, whose latest crime has been to do a reasonable job

running the country during the Blair family's summer holiday.

Apparently we're all supposed to kneel in wonder at the wit and wisdom of Ann Widdecombe, his opposite number now being hyped as the new Thatcher. Look out, William Hague.

The latest attempt to make a buffoon of Prescott is the bizarre assertion that he's really a bit of a middle class toff because he wore a bow tie in a school production of Jack and the Beanstalk in 1950.

Brace yourselves - he even wore a top hat and tails in a comedy sketch at the same school!

According to the Sunday Times, it all goes to prove that the deputy premier was a well-heeled child from a posh neighbourhood who liked playing a lord.

What it really means is that the upper class twits who think they run this country cannot stand the thought of someone like Prescott, son of a railwayman, wielding more power and influence than themselves.

They have been after him ever since they learned that he spent eight years working as a waiter on liners. Every time he stood up in the House, some Hooray Henry would yell: "Two G&Ts, steward."

IT'S A SHAME THERE IS NO UK NAME

IT'S back to the Jaguar for me. I've always set out to 'Buy British' but such quaint old-fashioned principles seem

academic after Ford of America bought out my favourite car company.

For the past three years I've been

driving a Rover and a Mercedes and found their German connections didn't cause any pain. Then Paul Grover, manager of Brighton's Jaguar franchise, craftily nobbled Ellen and me when we passed his showroom while shopping. "Here you are", he said, "take my keys and go for a drive in my XJ8 Sport".

That did it. Talk about Concorde of the road. We were hooked instantly and signed up for the same model.

At least my Jag was made in Britain - well, most of it. Nearly three-quarters of cars on our roads are made abroad and our share of the market is falling.

TVR, Morgan and Reliant are the only British manufacturers left. It's a bit late in the day for engineering union boss Sir Ken Jackson to be threatening to 'name and shame' MPs and local councils who buy imported cars.

TRUTH WILL SEEK YOU OUT

DISGRACED all-American hero O.J.Simpson confirms my belief that the truth will always seek you out, however much time and money is devoted to

proving otherwise.

The sporting idol turned

Hollywood star may have been acquitted of killing his estranged wife Nicole and her boyfriend, but he's lost his

Californian mansion and nobody will give him a job. Having spent so much on that top drawer defence team, O.J. now lives in an hotel and appears to be shunned by all but a few casual bar acquaintances.

The Supreme Court and our own House of Lords may be numero uno legally - but the verdict of the court of public opinion counts most of all.

Converted for the new archive on 30 June 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.