I'm a control freak so get your hands off my controls | Rick Jackson

In front of me at the Wave 105 studios is a large mixing desk. I am what is called a ‘self-operative’ radio presenter.

Most of us are these days, but many moons ago you would have had a sound engineer controlling all the levels when broadcasting.

Even today the BBC employs sound engineers on its national services.

It’s a complete waste of money if you ask me as all radio stations have expensive sound processors and limiters to control the volume.

This week my usual journalist on the breakfast programme, Michael Coombes, who you may have seen on Wave’s posters, was on holiday so Charlotte Butt deputised.

One day, as we were about to broadcast, she leant over the audio desk and turned down her headphone levels.

Massive own-goal.

That’s my job! If I was a member of a union I would be on the phone to my rep right now.

It’s my job to adjust the levels, no one else’s.

What next, journalists announcing records and doing the travel news? Not on my watch...

I am joking of course, but it did prove how much I cherish those little jobs.

Charlotte agreed too as she hates anyone in her car changing anything.

I’m getting worse as I get older too.

The dimming level of the lights at home, the central heating thermostat and the picture settings of the TV are all my domain.

I mow the lawn but my wife Sarah adjusted my perfect settings and the last cut basically turned our lawn into a skinhead with several bald patches.

The seat and the steering wheel get moved on the car and not put back to how I left it. This means my knees end up around my ears.

Perhaps I should do what all the kids advise these days: take a chill pill.

I mean, do I really want to be sent to an early grave just because the EQ has been adjusted on our Apple Music account?​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

All my pants have holes in them... (no, not that one!)

Apparently I pay too much for my pants. I was shamed by my wife on holiday who pointed out to friends every pair of boxers I own has countless holes.

She is right. I’m pretty sure all my pants are more than 10 years old.

Calvin Kline pants really are a waste of money. I don’t need designer undergarments. Next and M&S are the go-to places for pantaloons. Ten boxers and five briefs later and I’m £70 down. That’s a lot of money for pants I’m told.

But I know they’ll fit and I’ll get another decade out of them, unlike the net curtain material the supermarkets use for theirs. I’m no dedicated follower of fashion but quality not quantity is the order of the day for me.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

If at first you don’t succeed… just keep on paddleboarding

This week the weather is perfect for me to try to master the latest ‘in’ thing for those of us who live by the sea, the paddleboard.

This is my second year of ownership of my SUP (Stand-Up Paddleboard) but I have yet been unable to do what is says on the tin – stand up.

Maybe it’s a combination of my height and weight but I find it impossible to balance standing up and paddling. There is also the embarrassment and misfortune of being on full display to all those soaking up the rays on the beach. I’m thinking of ditching it and buying a kayak.

Then again, practice makes perfect and I really shouldn’t complain considering I’ve only been out on it once so far this summer!​​​​​​​

A message from the editor, Mark Waldron.You can subscribe here for unlimited access to our online coverage, including Pompey, for 27p a day.