Special Guest Blogger: Steve Wright

Hello, Posse. Or should I say, the Celestial Posse? It’s your old mate Steve, filing what you might call my final show report. No need to adjust your screen, you’re not dead. Well, I mean, we’re all dying slowly from the moment we’re born, aren’t we? Cheery thought, that. But I’m the one who’s already popped his clogs, shuffled off this mortal coil, handed in his P45.
The big switch-off itself, you ask? Very peaceful. Very dignified. Was listening to a bit of Barry White, getting ready to make a cup of tea, and then… unexpected technical difficulties at The Steve Wright Experience. The big transmitter in the sky just decided to, well, stop transmitting. One minute I was wondering if I had enough Hobnobs, the next I was floating past the pearly gates being asked for my reference number. Turns out it was the same one as my BBC staff pass. Typical. Efficient, the big man upstairs. Loves a good bit of bureaucracy.
I’m told I left behind a ‘legacy’. Honestly? I just that I made your drive home from work a bit less rubbish.
I hope my legacy is that time I played a ridiculous record you hadn’t heard since you were 14, and you sang along at the top of your voice, badly, in traffic. I hope it’s that I made you snort at a ‘Fascinating Fact’ about a man from Swindon who could balance a fridge on his chin. I hope it’s that for three hours every weekday, I was the daft, slightly saucy friend in the passenger seat, pointing out the absurdities of it all.
That was the secret, wasn't it? It was all a bit of a laugh. The show, the ‘Posse’, the ridiculous characters like Mr. Angry from Purley, lazy Sid the Manager and Gervais the Hairdresser… it was all born from the simple idea that life is often bananas, so we might as well join in.
We spent years in a tiny studio, playing records and talking nonsense. And for some reason, you lovely lot tuned in. Millions of you. I still can't quite get my head around it and the Best DJ of the Year was a great moment although voters probably thought I was someone else and not silly old Steve from Greenwich, him from Thames Valley Radio then Radio Luxembourg before landing at the BBC with a face perfect for radio (there was a reason why i didn't present that many Top Of The Pops) and a profound fondness for a decent biscuit.
You know, they have ‘Fascinating Facts’ here, too like did you know that when you here they don’t judge you on your good deeds or your sins? They judge you on your karaoke song choice. If you picked ‘Angels’ by Robbie Williams, you’re fast-tracked. If you chose ‘Agadoo’, you have to sit in a corner and think about what you’ve done.
So, legacy? Somewhere, a car is stuck in a jam on the M25. And the person inside is probably having a terrible day. And I hope, I really, really hope, they’ve got the radio on. And I hope it’s playing something that makes them tap their fingers on the steering wheel. Something brilliant. Something silly. Something that, just for a moment, makes everything feel okay.
After dying from a ruptured stomach ulcer, it was time to fade this old jingle out so to finish my famous line that i wish my first word was 'quote, so when i die my last could be unquote so thank you for everything...unquote.