14 | December | 2014 | Words on the Street

Most Thursday lunch-times, I meet some friends at my local and we have a few games of pool, a foaming brew or two, and a laugh. My friend Roy gives me a lift and picks me up at noon every week. On this particular occasion, he arrived as usual and, as I left the house, I saw a man strolling up and down the close wearing a luminous yellow jacket and a safety helmet. He came over and asked me if there used to be a street light on the verge next to our house. I said no, not in the 24 years we had been living there. It was designated Number 5, it seemed, and he had had instructions to replace it. He showed me his map, on which a street light was clearly marked but which I assured him had never been in situ. He then wandered off, still forlornly seeking the elusive Lamp-post Number 5. We thought no more of it especially as he did not appear to have a replacement street light about his person and went to the pub. We related the incident to our friends with great merriment until, about five minutes later, we saw a lorry go past, in the direction of my house, with a street lighting column on the back. I wondered if, perhaps, Mr Yellow Coat had misunderstood his instructions and the order was for installation rather than replacement.

Shortly afterwards, my wife phoned me to say that she had had a conversation with Mr Yellow Coat after she looked out of the window and noticed he was erecting a lamp-post. As far as I could ascertain, her conversation with him involved her ascertaining what exactly he was doing and him telling her what exactly he was doing, viz. replacing Lamp-post Number 5, her explaining to him that there never had been one there so technically it could not be replaced, her informing him that she didn’t want a street light shining into the bedroom all night, and him informing her that, on the contrary, it would only be shining downwards and, anyway, there was no electricity with which to power it. The whole thing was becoming farcical.

Resigned to our enlightened fate, my wife went indoors and telephoned Hampshire County Council Highways Department, where a very helpful lady was, er, very helpful, and even rang back as promised. Apparently, the previous (non-existent) street lighting column had to be replaced for safety reasons as it was too close to the road. The new one is now closer than the old (non-existent) one was – or, rather, wasn’t. I hope you’re keeping up. Apart from that, our drop kerb access will have to be dug up to have electricity installed – we will only be inconvenienced for about a couple of hours, apparently. With our house at the centre, there will now be five street lights within a radius of 150 yards. It’ll probably be like living on the Golden Mile; no offence to my friends on the Fylde coast.

A couple of days later, I had to attend a conference in Brighton for three days and, apparently, during my absence, further conversations had taken place between my wife and a gentleman in the Highways Department who confessed to being quite puzzled – in fact, he couldn’t shed any light on the mystery at all, despite the Council’s commendable efforts to do so. Anyway, when I returned home last Wednesday, the brand spanking new street lighting column had been dug up and taken away! The only problem I have now is trying to convince everyone that I hadn’t imagined the whole thing!

I wish I’d taken a picture.

I believe I have come up with an idea which could revolutionise the in-car entertainment business. It beats the game of Spotting Car Number Plates By Starting At One Then Counting Consecutively Thereafter into a cocked hat.

All you have to do is spot a registration and then think of another (extremely hilarious for some reason, and imaginary, although I accept you could hit on one that does exist by accident, I mean you would have chosen it by accident, not that it exists by accident, not that you’d know that, of course, anyway, if you’re still with me) registration that could satisfactorily either precede or follow the one you spot. If you’re having difficulty keeping up, let me give you an example from actual play.

On the way back home from a meeting in Hertfordshire, I passed a car bearing the registration 27 DEC. “Hmmm,” I mused, “That gives me an idea for a game” (go back to read the above in case you weren’t paying attention). “An extremely hilarious made-up registration which could satisfactorily precede that one would be 26 ANT.” D’you see?

Of course, there would have to be a rule which would forbid making up registrations that are of no interest whatsoever, like 26 DEC or 28 DEC, for example.

With a bit of fine tuning, I bet this could rapidly become a nationwide craze, even perhaps an Olympic sport one day. I might write to the Minister of Games about it; anyone know where he lives?