Life's rare pleasures: BBC Radio 6 Music

By far the best decision I've made this year was to start listening to BBC Radio 6 Music. As something of a technophile I was a surprisingly late convert to digital radio, but finally bought my first set just after Christmas 2012. My job enables me to listen to the radio all day, and since 1996 I had been tuned faithfully to Radio 1. To be fair it used to be okay - unless nostalgia has blunted my memory - but I'd finally got sick of incessant boy bands and talent-free X Factor trash. Which was fair enough - I was 35 and clearly not meant to like such things.

A switch was in order, and of course I was never going to migrate to Radio 2. It has its moments, but half of the music is still enough to make the deaf rejoice. Any station that playlists James Blunt forfeits their right to consideration. So with modest expectations I gave 6 Music a try, and it was immediately like being let in on an incredible secret. Knowledgeable, enthusiastic presenters and brilliant, brilliant music. I'd been telling people that there wasn't much new music worth listening to these days, and I was totally wrong. It's there in spades, you just don't hear it anywhere else. I've discovered more new artists in the past ten months than in the previous ten years. The John Peel Show on Radio 1 used to be a rare outlet for proper music, but 6 Music is like that 24 hours a day - an impeccable blend of old and new material. You can just trust them; when you hear the intro to Bob & Earl's Harlem Shuffle, you can be pretty confident that you aren't being deceived by House of Pain's Jump Around. In almost a year I could count on one hand the times when they've played a track I genuinely didn't like. With Radio 1 you'd have your socks off within the hour.

It's hard to believe that the BBC were considering closing it down in 2010. As a non-listener at the time I obviously wasn't too bothered, but now I realise that it would have been an appalling act of cultural vandalism, killing off the strongest of the litter to let the runts survive. If you gave me unlimited resources and complete control, I wouldn't be able to craft a finer radio station. It exceeds every demand I have. There is no fault to find and no other media outlet gets it so right. I am in love with music again.

Life's rare pleasures: Thin paper

There aren't many things in life that give me joy, but thin paper is one of them. The sort that you can only write on one side of because it shows through; the sort that crackles when you handle it. In the absence of true happiness, thin paper goes a long way. It earns respect through its delicateness - you can't treat it like copier paper. You need to be gentle, caress it between thumb and forefinger as if you're turning the pages of an ancient manuscript, giving pause to appreciate its form above its content. It lends authority to a book, like a frail old soothsayer whispering wisdom from the mouth of a darkened cave.

At a school assembly in my early teens we were all given copies of the New Testament. I treasured mine and still have it somewhere. The contents were complete drivel as far as I was concerned, but the pages were cigarette paper thin. The pious distributors must have thought they had snared another follower as I leafed through it with delight, all of them sadly unaware that I was touching and listening rather than reading. Similarly, I'm certain that my enjoyment of Thomas Hardy's Far From the Madding Crowd was considerably enhanced by my copy's bright white wafer-like pages. Kindle? Try Thindle.

If the world shared my joy of thin paper, think how many trees it would save - not only by making wood pulp go further, but in cardboard files as folders could accommodate more sheets. There's my manifesto - I'm publishing it on 30gsm.

But if paper can't be thin, let it be smooth. A soft mechanical pencil gliding gracefully over Bristol board could surely rehabilitate the most hardened convict. I believe Michael Jackson touched upon the idea in Smooth Criminal. It's worth buying an artist's pad of it just to write your name on.

This is That Was Yesterday

Welcome to That Was Yesterday, a blog that will chart my progress as I learn how to deal with being a Scanner. What's a Scanner? Visit the About page to find out. I'm not quite sure what form the blog will take, but that's largely the point - anything could happen. Scanners are encouraged to do whatever takes their fancy, even if only lasts a short time, so expect high-octane action as I flit from one exciting venture to the next, leaving dust, debris and disappointment in my wake.