I've often wondered who the (according to the blog stats) regular 40-50 visitors to this weblog are in the long weeks when I don't get my act together to post anything on it. Now I know. They're researchers desperately looking for material with which to fill their radio programmes and magazines.

A couple of weeks back I got an e-mail from a woman at Radio 4 who wanted to speak to me about my dislike of mobile phones. She wondered whether she might be able to use me for a segment on one of their Saturday morning programmes in which, as far as I can gather, people with viewpoints which go against the grain get to say their piece. Then this week I got an e-mail from a woman at Time Out who is preparing a feature about different types of spotters and who wanted to talk to me about my number plate "hobby". Strange really - I go 40 years without the media having any interest in highlighting my saddest, most socially misfitting attributes, then two opportunities come along in a week. The Time Out one said "We would be interested to know why you're passionate about it, what got you into it and what it involves. Alternatively, it would be great if you could recommend somebody (who is London-based) who would be happy to talk." I love the idea that if I'm not willing to speak about it myself I have a phalanx of London-based number plate spotting cohorts upon whom I can call.

Sadly I must report that it doesn't look as if either of these will result in anything. Although I had a very pleasant conversation with the Radio 4 woman, I suspect she may have been looking for someone rather more strident and rabid than I am on the subject of mobile phones. Much though I loathe them, and moreover those people who claim that they couldn't live without them, I'm not on some sort of crusade against them. I find them an irritant, but I can appreciate their usefulness to many people. I don't own one simply because I have no need or desire for one, in much the same way as I don't own a fishing rod or a loom.

And as for the woman from Time Out, I imagine that my response to her that I see number plates as less of a hobby and more of an obsessive compulsive affliction I can't shake probably ruled me out of that one. And if that didn't, telling her I'm in Oxford probably did (I'm guessing that since she wondered if I had a London-based fellow spotter she must assume, like everybody else in London, that anybody who is in any way interesting or has anything to offer must also be in London). I'm not sure there's much to be gained from appearing in Time Out anyway, unless I could somehow ensure that they presented me with the same level of self-deprecating awareness of the innate stupidity of the number plates fixation as I maintain here - and I think there's a good chance they'd see more mileage in going down the conventional nerdy dork route. I don't imagine the fully rounded father of four part of my life (i.e. 98% of it) would feature too prominently.

However, these two incidents have made me wonder whether I shouldn't start shaping my weblog - since it seems to have become a source of material for media types - in anticipation of further examination, so that I might subsequently get offered other projects more apposite or generally appealing. So stand by for "I've always wondered what it would be like to meet Stevie Wonder backstage", "Retiring at 40 - can it be done?" and "Why I said no to a threesome with Tea Leoni and Roisin Murphy".