RTÉ presenter Alf McCarthy hangs up his microphone for the last time tonight
CRUISING past midnight down the motorway on a half-metre bed of fog with the song ‘Vienna’ by Ultravox completing the haunting experience.
An abiding memory of RTÉ Radio One’s Late Date radio show, but it highlights just one aspect — the good music — which is blended with humour and banter and topped off with the sense of companionship that comes with being part of what has become known as the ‘Late Date Family’.
This sense of the collective is all down to presenter Alf McCarthy, who reluctantly turns off his mic tonight for the last time, leaving his 80,000-strong family wondering what the future holds.
He is at the door at RTÉ’s Donnybrook HQ when I arrive, extending his hand and a warm welcome. There is a hint of the patrician about the Corkman. Perhaps it’s the thespian in him, but don’t be mistaken, if this was an act, his loyal listeners would see through it. It could be argued that night-time listeners are more discerning, investing more, feeling a sense of ownership.
It’s something that has been cultivated by McCarthy, who has been in the hotseat for over 10 years.
“The show became something different as it developed, in that it is very interactive,” McCarthy explains. “I encouraged the ability for people to make contact with the show.
“It goes back to when I was younger. I emigrated to Canada when I was 20/21 and it was Christmas time and I had no money. I had bought myself a little transistor radio. It was Christmas Eve and I put on the radio and it was like a friend. There’s a comedy piece I play on Late Date called Ajax Liquor Store from Hudson and Landry and that was the first time I had heard it. I remember, that made me laugh and it cheered me up that night, when I was on my own...
“People at night are vulnerable for whatever situation they are in,” says McCarthy, who is humbled by the level of trust people put in him. “I am constantly astounded by what people will disclose in their texts. A text! But for them, it’s contact.”
It being the dark of the night, it is highly probable that contact means McCarthy has saved many from seeking solace in the saddest, most permanent way, including one listener who made direct contact.
“I had one man who was threatening to kill himself one night,” says McCarthy, pausing, reflecting. “He was talking about doing it. I have to accept the texts at face value. As it happens, I was coming up to the weather, which is followed by the news, so I wasn’t talking for about 10 minutes.
“I just said to him: ‘Don’t do anything rash. Just stay with me, stay with the show.’ But he texted again and said: ‘No, no, I’m serious.’
“I rang security, as I do the show on my own, and I gave them his number, but, as it happened, his sister had heard. He was giving me bits of information, first of all it was the Midlands, then it was Brian [not the man’s real name]. His sister twigged it was her brother and she called to him and she made sure he was OK.
“The following night he texted me to apologise and to thank me,” says McCarthy.
Like many of his generation, McCarthy was in thrall to radio, but was most likely in a minority in acting out the part as a child.
“I went to boarding school in Rochestown for five years. I recall being in bed at night and I would do little shows as if I was on radio. I would introduce the song, then sing it, and my eyes would be shut, and I’d be doing my thing, except one night I opened my eyes and there I was surrounded by young fellas and they were asking: ‘Is he alright?’ ”
Criticism is par for the course for anyone in the public eye, but McCarthy became the subject of something more sinister recently.
“I’m very conscious to not give out personal details,” he says, pausing, before saying: “Recently, I received a threat. There was information in it that frightened me. As it turned out, the guy in question, God help him, is unwell, but he had somehow assimilated the information. He didn’t know me. The gardaí went to him and they sorted it out and they are keeping an eye on him.”
He unsuccessfully asked RTÉ to allow him to continue with Late Date on a contract basis.
“I don’t see myself in retire mode. I want to keep working. Whatever that might be,” he says, adding quickly: “But I would love to continue working on Late Date, cause I love doing the show. It has become something special. It went beyond just playing records.
“I’m not continuing with Late Date, because it’s part of my contract. When you are 65 you retire, because you are a staff member. It’s a simple as that, there is no sinister plot.
“I actually retired officially on November 15, my birthday, so I’m on a contract until the end of the year. My logic says extend it, but I’ve accepted it will finish. Them’s the rules.”
McCarthy relocated to Dublin four years ago to join his partner, having previously worked out of RTÉ’s Cork studios. He was brought up in Ballinlough, worked at Sunbeam, managed Pizzaland in Cork’s Patrick’s St, sold encyclopedias, worked for TV rental company RTV, and also laboured at Irish Steel. He says Cork is unique.
“Cork is a philosophy. it’s a state of being. It’s not just a place. It’s the sense of place. What I love is that the people will tell you what’s on their mind and there is no maliciousness to it. They will express their view, and it’s happened to me so many times. There’s a confidence about Cork people.”
In his 36 years as a producer, director and presenter on RTÉ radio and TV, he has covered such diverse topics as comedy, current affairs, documentaries, sports, music, architecture, arts, culture, drama, and children’s drama. He has no intention of putting on his slippers and reaching for a pipe.
“I’m more interested in keeping working in whatever capacity that might be. My partner, Sharon Lawless, has a company called Flawless Films and she has been producing Adoption Stories on TV3. It’s heading into its fourth series and interest has come from the States and I will be working with her on that.
“I’m going to be exploring other opportunities. I’m writing and I’ve been developing scripts for television. As a kid, I loved the likes of Roald Dahl’s Tales of the Unexpected — I love the one where the wife kills the husband with a leg of mutton and, when the cops arrive, she cooks the mutton for them — The Twilight Zone and Tales from the Dark Side.I always like short, sharp, funny pieces with a twist in the end.
“I’ve written about 14 of those, a series. I intend to put it out there to see if anyone is interested in investing in it. I’m a novice in this aspect. I’ve done television, but this is different, this is something I’ve always wanted to do.
“I’ve also got a nine-part series I’ve written called Irish Gothic. It’s a thriller/ghost story thing. I’m also writing a homage to comedy, he chuckles, as he thinks of the scenario. “The starting off point is: If Woody Allen was a superhero. He comes from another planet. It’s 1950s America. It’s mad. He goes on a road trip and meets Elvis. He also meets [FBI chief] J Edgar Hoover... who’s wearing a dress.”
Theatre was always a love and McCarthy would like nothing better than to renew the affair. His CV shows range: In the court drama Twelve Angry Men, he played the part of the empathetic Juror No 8. He played the part of Oscar in The Odd Couple, though he concedes most expect that he would be better suited to play the fastidious Felix. He played the bishop in John B Keane’s Moll, and also had prominent roles in other productions.
“I’d love to go back to theatre. I last acted three years ago in the Everyman Theatre in Cork. An Alan Ayckbourn comedy. When I lived in Cork, I’d meet my friend Conor Dwayne and we’d say, ‘C’mon let’s put on a play’. Simple as that.”
No doubt he will open Late Date tomorrow night with his customary “Welcome my friends” and he admits, he will probably shed a tear.
McCarthy will read a self-penned poem on his love of radio and also says he has planned his last three songs for some time.
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