What a strange fellow Korky was.
I left the BBC (in 1992) with glee, and a pot of cash. This was partly because they'd changed my contract from 42-hours a week to 160-hours per month...which meant I could be sent to cover the snooker in Sheffield, for example, and work an
eighty-hour week, be given the following week off, and thus not get any overtime.
These days, after a toy with Sky for a year or two, Mrs Dreadnought72 and myself decided that there really wasn't anything on any broadcast services that bothered us much: she was watching a few classic films online, while I was watching about 30 minutes a week via the iplayer (I much prefer the radio for news and entertainment), so we cancelled our TV licence.
If you do this, prepare yourself for an assault.
We were bombarded with letters and then, eventually, a fella turned up. "We have a record of this address as being unlicenced," he said, "can I come in and check your TV?"
"Sure." I said.
So I showed him our TV, plugged into naught but an Xbox and the DVD player, and he left, saying "We'll be in touch in a year or so."
"Don't bother!" I happily called after him.
Andy, ex BBC Cameraman, Manchester "North 3"