23 | December | 2014 | Words on the Street

I’m shamelessly blowing my own trumpet here, but there you go; I’m in control, after all. This is an article from the very first issue of the newsletter I used to produce for our local pub when we owned it. It concerned the barbecue on Comic Relief Night in 2001 run by Tony, one of our fine regulars; his company supplied the burgers and hot dogs. The article was entitled “Tony’s Grill ‘n Griddle – a gourmet’s delight”.

It went as follows: “Tastes made in Heaven”, “I’m going to recommend it to all my friends”, “Why isn’t it in the Egon Ronay Guide?”, “How can you follow this without going to the Ritz or The Savoy?” These are just a few of the statements not one person could remember hearing on Comic Relief Night about the latest “in” eatery – Tony’s Grill ‘n Griddle at The Marquee In The Pub Back Garden (their staff will serve you right).

Tony and his assistants, Martin and Dave, were the purveyors of fodder to the starving masses. “You’d have to be starving”, confirmed one customer to me through the toilet door.

Tony’s revolutionary pre-cooked non-shrink burgers ensured at least that nobody would be poisoned. “We only had to make three replacements”, said Tony later. “Why was that if the burgers were pre-cooked?” I asked him. “Well, they didn’t like the fact the middles were still frozen”, he explained, “we didn’t have any complaints about the sausages”, he added proudly. Did he have any top tips for us? “Well”, he said, “don’t read between the lines; I’ve tried it and there is actually nothing there, oh, and be careful what you say and do, otherwise you’ll end up in the Newsletter!”

His remarks were prophetic; also somewhat ironic as tales from his own chaotic and confusing life proliferated in the cleverly named “Times At The Bar”.

You may have read the Anagramapoem in ‘Other Poetry’, in the introduction to which I refer to my brilliant invention, the Anagramecdote, of which that poem is an example in verse.

An anagramecdote involves concocting an entirely implausible and totally disingenuous story about someone (or something) and peppering it with anagrams of the subject’s name in capital letters, sorry, upper case! Well, in this case (upper or lower, it matters not), the story is not actually about THE TEN COMMANDMENTS, but contains anagrams of those three words. A variation on a highly original theme, I’m sure you will agree. OK, please yourselves.

Well, then. Our tale concerns Emmett Hammond, a quiet unassuming Londoner from Camden. Camden, you ask? Well, I SHAN’T CONDEMN EMMETT for that, you have to come from somewhere; I have better things to do with my time THAN CONDEMN EMMETT’S roots. Emmett was not afraid of hard work and had always wanted to run his own company. Unfortunately, his business ideas lacked a certain practicality – HAMMOND CEMENT TENTS Ltd was a prime example, although for a very short time it was a cause célébre, even attracting the composition of a classical anthem extolling the virtues of “concrete canvas”: a notable Telegraph headline at the time was: “ANTHEM COMMENDS TENT”. Unfortunately, ANTHEM COMMENTS TEND to be short-lived and the company quickly became the Bankruptcy Court in CAMDEN’S TENTH MOMENT of company cessation that particular day. All of this despite the extensive advertising campaign NAMED: “C’MON THEM TENTS!” (I think this is an example of “hard sell”).

Emmett left the court ruing his foray into the hardened camping market, muttering “DAMN CEMENT – THEM TONS of useless grey powder! What possible use are you?! Wait a minute! I could make boots for people who wanted to lean forward at a 45-degree angle without falling over!” Then he thought, “Hang on, Emmett, HADN’T CEMENT, MOMENTS before, epitomised my ineptitude in the concrete industry, indeed, industry generally? Forget it!”

Actually, although his business acumen proved wanting in many respects, he had salted away a little cash – just about enough to buy a bicycle made for two – right, let’s have your TANDEM COMMENTS, THEN; he and his girl-friend were planning to buy a flat and they would enjoy cycling around to view various suitable properties. TENANTS COMMEND THEM, apparently – flats, that is, not tandems.

Well, there it is – get the idea? Don’t pinch it, or, if you do, please send me the results of your anagramecdoting.