Monthly Archives: August 2011

Thinking allowed

Sartorial sponsorship

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I read last week that Abercrombie and Fitch are to pay Mike ‘The Situation’ Sorrentino.

No I haven’t heard of him either. He is apparently a star of MTV’s hit reality show Jersey Shore and is being paid a small fortune NOT to wear their iconic clothing.

So it occurred to me that an approach could be made to Marks & Spencer with a similar proposition.

[N]ow, I’m the first to admit that when driving a cab my sartorial sense and that of my colleagues leaves a little to be desired, unlike the model confidently sporting Mark and Spencer’s Blue Harbour range who always looks relaxed and elegant clearly an image the company wish to promote.

Compare and contrast that look with some of my colleagues; one wears a fedora, promoting the advertising on his cab, very elegant in Cuba, a little incongruous in the front of a London cab; others support baseball caps, while a favourite in winter is your woollen tea cosy. Mind you it’s hardly surprising that head protection is deemed de rigueur by some cabbies; during heavy rain my last cab would deposit a copious deluge upon my head whenever I braked.

Another problem known as leather a**e is the result of sitting too long, for when alighting from one’s cab, a view of your rear resembles that of an elephant leaving a firm of French polishers. With a crumpled shirt from wearing a seat belt for 10 hours and a wrinkled countenance courtesy of just about every driver in London we hardly have the clean youthful looks promoted by fashion gurus.

If you want stylish looks you have to look to our aquatic cousins the gondoliers of Venice who are probably the most elegant cabbies in the world; mind you at their prices they can afford to be kitted out by Armani.

Now summer is almost over I had better dust off my muffler and flat cap; that is unless Locks the hat makers contact me first with an offer I can’t refuse.

Puppydog tails

Bread Basket Boy

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Panyer Alley

Three hundred and twenty-three years ago a long forgotten stonemason was putting the finishing touches on a small plaque which remains today marooned in Panyer Alley, a small footpath just off Newgate Street. It depicts a naked boy perched on a bread basket proffering what appears to be a bunch of grapes with a couplet that reads:

“When ye have sought the citty round yet still this is the highest ground. August 27, 1688”.

The plaque is placed just a stone’s throw from the London Stock Exchange an institution whose sole function is to make money, or “bread” in London parlance.

[T]he apparent subject of the plaque. Brewer’s Dictionary of London Phase and Fable describes the term bread as:

‘Bread (and honey) ‘money’ in cockney rhyming slang. However, the internationally understood synonymity of ‘bread’ and ‘money’ probably does not derive from this rhyme, it is more likely to be of American origin.”

Even so its proximity near the heart of London’s Stock Exchange is curious, as is the inscription that does not appear to make sense in its current location, which is a decidedly short and not at the City’s highest point.

The Little Boy originally stood near its present site which in the 17th century was the centre of London’s bakeries. The alleyway is named after the boys who once sold their bread from baskets or panniers. A law passed in the 14th century prohibited bakers from selling their produce from their premises requiring that bread could only be sold in the King’s markets. To circumvent this law the bakers would employ boys selling bread from their ‘bread baskets’.

The plaque was originally let into a building on the original Panyer Alley a popular standing place for the boys selling their bread, and commemorates the Panyer Boy, an inn burnt down in the Great Fire of London. The stone, which is dated 1688, has been moved more than once. In 1892 the building on which the little boy was set was demolished and continuing in the bread/bankers tradition he was moved to Farrows Bank in Cheapside as its mascot. He didn’t prove to be a very lucky mascot as the bank folded in 1930. In 1964 he was moved again to his current location to watch over City types hurrying past with their American bagels and coffee.

In a further twist of bread, bankers and American idiom an article appeared in The Echo on 21st January 1893:

A remarkable conspiracy was detected by the authorities of the City a few days ago, when an attempt was made to steal the celebrated Panyer stone . . . It appears that a rich American bribed one of the workmen, engaged in pulling down the old warehouse in which the stone is fixed, asking him to exchange the old relic for a modern stone, and promising to pay £50 for the deception. The workman conveyed notice of this to the City authorities, and a guard has now been placed upon the original stone, which is a cherished heirloom of the City.

A window on My World

The New Centurions

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[N]ow before you start reading today’s little missive I must add a cautionary note. If you haven’t reached your thirtieth birthday my words of wisdom will have no relevance in your life and I suggest you just chat amongst yourselves for the next five minutes.

According to the latest research, no doubt funded by the insurance companies who stand to gain by its results, one in five of us currently living in Britain are likely to survive beyond the age of 100. That should mean if purchasing term life insurance your premiums would be lower – which they’re not – and if you are a silver surfer your pension annuity would give you less – which it does.

I didn’t sign up for this kind of nonsense, my granny lived to be 97; when she was a young woman the Wright Brothers made their first flight and before she died had watched man land on the moon. In her day the ‘experts’ regarded 67 as your life’s expectancy, but many of her generation died in the trenches of the First World War and many more had their lives shortened by their experience of warfare, so much for their sixty-sevens worth.

The biblical notion of three score years and ten might have had some relevance in the Middle East 2,000 years ago (my bet is that most workers just managed one score year and ten), but today another score should be added to our longevity prediction.

If in 2047 I were still active, independent and financially viable (all three, of course, two out of three is not acceptable), then I suppose I could live with it, but that possibility seems increasingly unlikely.

Politicians have realised this and deferred our pensions, at the same time reducing the number of years they need to clock up to receive their own full Parliamentary pension.

With NHS resources stretched to the limit, let alone when we baby boomers become octogenarians or older, is extended old age something we will have to live with in the future, or will future administrators decide that in global terms resources are being wasted on the old and corrective measures are necessary? The realities of Soylent Green and Logan’s Run are beginning to seem less outrageous as the years march on. I can’t see myself in 2047 negotiating London’s streets in my cab, mind you I’ll be lucky to find my way to the toilet at 100. While most of us without gold plated pensions will find they’re miniscule after 35 years of retirement.

So 20 per cent. of us will get a letter from the King (or Queen you never know), but will be unable to reach down to the doormat and pick it up?

An urban view

Sartorial Sponsorship

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I read last week that Abercrombie and Fitch are to pay Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino – no I haven’t heard of him either – a star of MTV’s hit reality show Jersey Shore a small fortune NOT to wear their iconic clothing; so it occurred to me that an approach could be made to Marks & Spencer with a similar proposition not to wear their Blue Harbour range.

Now, I’m the first to admit that when driving a cab my sartorial sense and that of my colleagues  leaves a little to be desired, unlike the model confidently sporting Mark and Spencer’s Blue Harbour range who always looks relaxed and elegant clearly an image the company wish to promote.

Compare and contrast that look with some of my colleagues; one wears a fedora, promoting the
advertising on his cab, very elegant in Cuba, a little incongruous in the front of a London cab; others support baseball caps, while a favourite in winter is your woollen tea cosy. Mind you it’s hardly surprising that head protection is deemed de rigueur by some cabbies; during heavy rain my last cab would deposit a copious deluge upon my head whenever I braked.

Another problem known as leather a**e is the result of sitting too long, for when alighting from
one’s cab, a view of your rear resembles that of an elephant leaving a firm of French polishers. With a crumpled shirt from wearing a seat belt for 10 hours and a wrinkled countenance courtesy of just about every driver in London we hardly have the clean youthful looks promoted by fashion gurus.

If you want stylish looks you have to look to our aquatic cousins the gondoliers of Venice who are
probably the most elegant cabbies in the world; mind you at their prices they can afford to be kitted out by Armani.

Now summer is almost over I had better dust off my muffler and flat cap; that is unless Locks the hat
makers contact me first with an offer I can’t refuse.

Puppydog tails

Ruling the airways

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Research recently published has concluded that our attention span nowadays could be limited to Just A Minute before our minds are distracted; so to make my point Today this post is limited to take about 60 seconds to read. In this Material World of gizmos and gadgets; of Facebook, Twitter and blogs Any Questions on any subject or an opinion expressed are expected to be answered within our short memory span.

[T]elevision is as much to blame as the social media; why after the interminable adverts do they feel the need to reiterate what we have just watched? After all you have just been sitting in a Front Row seat within your living room with no distractions from the images appearing on your plasma screen.

In a previous age information was passed on by Word of Mouth a farmer as depicted daily on The Archers would take time to explain to future generations the wealth of his knowledge; a fisherman before leaving harbour would know The Shipping Forecast by taking time to observe the cloud formations; and In Business training for between 6 to 10 years was the norm to ensure a skilled workforce.

Now we have the unremitting tendency to patronise, putting everything into bite sized chunks of Quote-Unquote. The World At One can tune into Dave (as if he was the oracle of all knowledge) and watch the same programme that was transmitted three hours earlier; am or PM it’s the same reality television or makeover programme even the same adverts just in case you have forgotten their importance message.

Thinking Allowed is not now practised for it would seem that mothers who previously might devote a Woman’s Hour with their daughter by passing on her wisdom and experience, imparting advice via a text message seems the order of the day.

Well last week we received (in bite sized chunks) the heartening news that intelligent audiences are turning increasingly to the radio for their information and entertainment with listening figures for many Radio 4 programmes at an all-time high. This is encouraging for when on 30th September 1929 John Logie Baird broadcast Britain’s first television programme from a building in Long Acre his invention was predicted to kill wireless broadcasting stone dead. In Our Time the brainchild of Tim Berners-Lee ultimately was forecast by wiz-kids to change our listening habits, well they thankfully have been proved wrong.

The intelligent medium of radio, which leaves so much more to our imagination – even if your humble scribe feels like telling Melvin Bragg “I’m Sorry I Haven’t a Clue” to his discussion on the Hundred Years War – has given the programme makers 30 minutes to try to explain the subject.

On Radio 4 you’ll find no chopping and changing between segments of two-and-a-half seconds each; no adverts (hardly necessary with a £3 billion-a-year dowry); and no regurgitation of the same footage shown 10 minutes previously.

At least for the time being on FM it is still possible to listen to someone speak uninterrupted – without hesitation, deviation or repetition – for an entire minute. About the same time it’s taken you to read this post.