I was saddened to hear the recent announcement of Simon Dee’s death, though I realise that my feelings about him were as divided as his persona.

In 1988 I was producing the Radio 2 programme Sounds of the Sixties from the BBC’s studios in Bristol.

At the time we were running a listener’s poll to find the most popular record of the decade and needed a presenter for the final Top 20, due to air at Christmas.

This was at a time when the programme was introduced each week by a pop star of the 60s, so who better to front the chart programme than Simon Dee.

But he’d been out of circulation for years and, according to rumours, living off benefits.

After a number of phone calls I found someone who had an address for the reclusive Simon and I wrote a letter.

He made contact and I took him to lunch at a nearby restaurant.

It was apparent that Simon was very much the ex-star, by now an unknown and down on his luck.

For my part, I needed to convince myself that he was able to do what was expected, a concern that soon evaporated.

As the Top 20 idea required announcements that were little more than "that was! and "this is" I offered him the chance to have his own choice of 60s favourites for the New Year programme.

Simon arrived in Bristol and we went to the studio.

Both programmes were recorded successfully and extremely professionally.

It was wonderful to hear that familiar voice again and, as far as Simon was concerned, it was almost as if he had never been out of a radio studio.

The shows were broadcast over Christmas and the New Year and for days the Radio 2 Controller’s mailbag and my own were inundated with letters and messages from listeners praising Simon and asking when he was going to be back.

As a result, the controller, Frances Line, suggested a three month run as regular presenter of the Saturday morning show.

Patently Simon was delighted at the news and we decided that he would come down to Bristol every two weeks to record two shows.

Knowing all the stories of Simon’s behaviour in the past, I was a little nervous at the beginning of the first recording session.

But those next few months of recordings were some of the easiest, slickest and most enjoyable I had experienced.

Simon was relaxed, funny, inventive, and a joy to work with. When not recording, we spent much of the time joking and laughing.

The trails (advertisements) for the programme - usually made in London - we recorded ourselves, usually by using a number of sound effects.

They were quite zany but our London colleagues accepted them gleefully.

The series ended, by which time Simon was beginning to be offered a little work outside radio.

The controller was very pleased with the series and asked for another.

Simon was duly booked and we made arrangements for the first recordings.

I was taken aback by the Simon Dee who arrived in my office.

Where previously there had been enthusiasm there was now arrogance, where there had been joviality there was rudeness, where there was calm professionalism there were demands and instructions to all and sundry.

An easy, though probably inaccurate, explanation was that the rebirth of fame had gone to his head.

On rare occasions over the next three months, the old Simon returned.

Consequently I never knew which personality was going to walk through the door.

As his behaviour became more unpredictable, I began to dread the fortnightly recordings.

Somehow, during the three months between contracts, Simon had become convinced that I had promised that his next series would be live, not recorded.

This was something only the controller could have sanctioned, and an offer I knew that neither she nor I would have risked, but it was impossible to persuade Simon that he was wrong.

He became very angry that I was occasionally editing out some of the more wayward remarks that he was making and he would storm into the office shout "You’re editing my words!"

To make matters worse, he also expressed his annoyance by writing eccentric notes to the BBC Director General complaining about the situation.

The result was inevitable. The end of the run arrived along with an order not to renew his contract.

My enhanced reputation as the man who resurrected the career of Simon Dee was now plummeting.

And yet...

Despite the insults, the hurt, the damage that lasted well beyond those three months, there’s still a part of me that respects and admires the flawed genius that was Simon Dee.

You may remember the children’s rhyme about a little girl who had a curl right in the middle of her forehead.

It ends: "When she was good she was very very good,

But when she was bad, she was horrid."

That describes my feeling about Simon perfectly.