That phrase, “… by the way” features large in the background of my life.
In the vernacular of Glasgow and around the west of Scotland, where I spent my youth, it has particular significance …by the way.
It obeys the usual syntax: to introduce a new topic, to provide extra information, as qualification and for emphasis.
Especially in Glasgow the emphatic, “…by the way” is used almost like punctuation, like an expressed full stop. Sometimes with the perception of a rigid index finger jabbing in the space below your clavicle.
I suppose we’re stuck with the Apple derived name, “podcast”. I still prefer to think of radio stories on the Internet. I love the way radio can be incisive and deep. Good radio takes you on a journey as the story unfolds. It’s about the people; meeting them and hearing what they say. Listening to someone speak is the oldest form of storytelling. I love talking with people, listening acutely and learning their truth. Oral stories are personal and intimate. Recounting their story is always subjective because it’s in the immediate choice of words, the tone of voice, the inflection and the emotion. By The Way is an anthology of true stories, conversations and unsolicited opinion through my personal prism.
I’ve had a varied career. I’ve accumulated a bit of knowledge and a few skills. I’m not a journalist, I’m just an opinionated pedant who loves the smell of the sea, cooking for friends and a glass of malt in front of the fire of a nippy evening. There’s not much I like better than a good conversation and some people will tell you I like the sound of my own voice; but that’s not quite the same thing.
I’ll express grievance and delight in my stories and I’ll use my index finger when it’s necessary …by the way.