S3E02: Car Laureate

[opening theme music]

[ambient soundscape, words are spoken as if appearing through mist]

Glockenspiel (Words) 

Whelp (Words)

Elbow (Words)

Throttle (Words)

Kowtow (Words)

Pakistani (Words)

Vulva (Words)

Kibosh (Words)

Just some of my favourite words because as a broadcaster, slash podcaster - that's another good one, 'slash' - words are my currency, my clay, my bread and butter, my petrol. And you're thinking "Well of course you like words, you're a podcaster!", but you'd be surprised! 

Some podcasts seem to treat words with obvious disdain, it's all 'gotta', 'getta', 'kinda wanna', you know, 'cool, yeah', not yes, on Radio 4 - BBC Radio 4 - they should call it Radio Fourteen-year-old! [laughs] 

"You're listening to BBC Radio Fourteen-year-old!". [continues hearty, mocking laughter]

[theme music sting]

Sorry, I got a fit of the giggles there so I just had a go on a Rubik Cube, calm down.

I hope you enjoyed the soundscape by the way, it was either that or a sort of different chirpier song, also about words, which I wrote with Gyles Brandreth. In the end I went for the more sort of sombre, artful approach, but I had fun with Gyles.

Me, I love words, and that's something clearly not lost on my audience. Earlier this week I received a lovely letter from regular listener Kelly Trammell, a happily married district nurse from Hemel, Hempstead. It says, "Dear Alan, you obviously adore words, when I sit in the bath, put my headphones on and listen to your podcast with the lights off I can hear how you relish every syllable, I hear your soft lips caress words like 'flammable' and 'wishing well'". Can you indeed? 

"I hear the fleshy folds of your mouth swaddle words like 'lozenger' and 'pleasant', I hear the slick lubricant of your saliva ease out the words 'Glossop' and 'sensuality'. I hear your breath gush through your lips to deliver 'poppadum' and 'bubble'. I hear the gentle probing of your tongue as it forces 'thwack', 'thrum' and 'slap' into my ears. And even adore the slight grunt at the start of 'undulate' or 'oodle'. I hope you don't mind me saying, listening to you makes me feel very, very good!". 

Don't mind at all Kelly, in fact I'm feeling pretty good myself right now! Oh, there's a P.S. "My wife think it's a bit weird, but I tell her I derive pleasure from the way another man speaks". Yeah, I see. Kelly's a man. [screws up paper, tosses it to bin, misses] Fucks' sake! 

Um, so why am I discussing words so much? [distant doorbell] Excuse me, excuse me. Who is it? Ah, it's the guy from Amazon, it'll be the stackable stools... Ah no, it's the airbed, still good. Can you leave it on... Can you not see the sign? [knocks on window] Hello? 

"Hello!".

Can you leave it on the vegetable bench? 

"Yeah sure!" .

Can you- no, that's the food caddy! That's the- oh, Christ! [opens window] Hello? That's the food caddy.

"No worries!".

It says food caddy. Do you not see the sign at the gate, 'No Deliveries, Partridge Recording Podcast'?

"I'm sorry, didn't know what it meant".

Okay. Just leave it there, leave it on the doorstep.

"I thought you weren't on telly no more!".

If you broadcast you don't have to be on TV all the time, there are other revenue streams and other media that you can exploit. Not just terrestrial TV, that's normal TV to you. [closes window]

Sorry about that, didn't know what a podcast was! Or what the word terrestrial meant. I didn't bother mentioning Audible, he'd have been completely flummoxed!

Yeah, so I'm discussing words because my way with words has presented me with an exciting new opportunity. You see, for the last five years, I had the good fortune, nay the honour, nay the glee, the glee, of being Norfolk's very first Car Laureate. And as Norfolk Car Laureate it's my pleasure to promote car-ownership, car-hire and responsible car-use across the Norfolk region. 

And it's precisely because I have such a facility with language that I'm able to convey that pro-car message in a variety of new and interesting ways. I was just getting the mes- I've been trying- for years now I've been helping get the message out that, "Cars. Better than buses, better than trains. You can keep your bicycles, keep your planes. Don't have to talk to strangers, on your own, choose your sounds, everyone else, fuck off".

That's the message, that's all it is, that's all it is! And as I've always said, I want us to work hand-in-hand, by the way, with the cycling community. Maybe create a working-group of both cyclists and motoring enthusiasts to find a way forward. We'll listen to their concerns, I'm happy for them to ride the country lanes near my houses between the hours of 1am and 5am every day, including weekends. As long as they ride in what we used to call 'Indian file', now single-file, so if I approach from behind I can pass safely and I don't have to ride behind them at 12mph for twelve miles because that takes an hour, which I don't have.

And I know what they say, "You don't own the road!", but I'm, if you like, a shareholder in the road, in that I pay road tax and whilst I'm not suggesting you pay road tax... I am suggesting you pay road tax. 

All I ask is that any of these cyclists, if they attend meetings, please, please, please dress normally! There'll be women and children present and tightly-fitting clothing on men over fifty is not nice for anyone, and some find it upsetting! You see commuters with Brompton folding bicycles who seem - who seem to be able to ride perfectly well wearing trousers, jackets, shirts, normal shoes with next to no drop in performance.

Yeah, so next time you go out, try wearing - you know - ordinary clothes and I'm pretty sure there'll be very little difference in your performance. Best thing of all, you won't pee people off, and you don't have to dress like a cunt. Anyway, as I say, the door's always open. 

[ambient chimes]

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My time as Norfolk Car Laureate has been deeply rewarding, but this month things have taken a thrilling new direction. Word reached me that Suffolk is on the lookout for a new Car Laureate because Quentin Wilson doesn't want to do it anymore because his wife doesn't want him to do it anymore. And that gave me an idea, what if we could rope in some of the big dealers In Bedfordshire, Cambridgeshire, Essex and Hertfordshire and create a sort of super-county conglomerate, and pave the way for a larger role of 'East of England Car Laureate'. 

Well, the dealers jumped at the idea. Ipswich Toyota, Fords of Chelmsford, John Gullam BMW, The Mercier Group, Bullfords, that list speaks for itself and I mean, what more do you want? These are some of the biggest beasts on the right-hand side of England which often gets the shitty end of the stick. People go on about the West, about the Lake District, Cornwall, Wales... No! 

What about Scarborough? Margate? There's plenty more. Dover? White cliffs? Not just freight. Can't think of them all now, Southend? No, not Southend, anyway, look, the catch? I would have to vie for the role alongside other interested candidates, even though it was my idea, which is fine, it's fine, absolutely fine. 

Make no mistake, the lucky man, or woman, or variations thereof, who becomes the East of England Car Laureate will at a stroke become one of the most powerful and prominent names in the UK automobiles market. 

Listen carefully, and you might just hear the scratch, pinch, thump and bollock-grab of a pretty ugly fight, because right now a slew of public figures are slugging it out for the right to call themselves East of England Car Laureate. Inverdale wants it. Chiles wants it. Bacon wants it. Buerk wants it. Bruce wants it, brackets Fiona, says she wants a fifth revenue stream.

But there are two front runners, it's going to be between me and the motoring presenter Vicki Butler-Henderson. And that's healthy. That's healthy. The motor trade can be a bit of a boys' club, it's a bit sexist even. You know, and I'm as guilty as the next guy but it's got to change!

I've got blood on my hands, I've done things I regret, I've stood on the pavement and slow handclapped as I watch a woman try to parallel park, and it's wrong! Gotta change, which is why I'm thrilled to learn that Vicki Butler-Henderson is going for the position. She knows her cars inside-out and she can drive, heck yeah! Quick, confident, and she can power slide while chatting on the phone. But I'm the unity candidate. I come from the male side of things, but women don't find me predatory or threatening and, as a man, you can't do much better than that.

[urgent election-broadcast fanfare]

Prepare the ticker-tape parade, the campaign is underway! May the best candidate win. Welcome to Election 2023, Highway to Heaven!

Sorry about that, perhaps a little overblown. It's just that this is the first time I've run for public office And this is public office, with nine hundred franchise dealers strewn across six counties, there's a very real electorate to impress and I intend to impress them, and impress upon them... stuff.

Don't know why I've never run for high office. Closest I've ever come to an election campaign was just after my divorce, when Carol said the kids could decide where they were to spend Christmas. Fair enough, they were both in their twenties, and my god, that was a vote I wanted to win. I lost, but I deserved to lose. I was living in a hotel with a microwave in my room so it would have been pretty bleak If they decided to come.

I ended up, I remember, watching Terminator while eating a Walls Viennetta with a shoehorn. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that was the worst day of my life!

But in terms of an actual vote, never put myself forward. I mean, I've had offers to stand, of course I have. As a former local deejay, I'm often seen as a lightning-rod for local issues and I'm happy to say my piece, and stand up when standing up needs to be... stood. 

When a pensioner in a nearby retirement home was given mouldy yoghurt, it was me who got the care worker sacked. When the council refused to honour the horses from Norfolk who died in the Great War, I persuaded them to erect a big bronze ponium. I mean, really, we shouldn't forget people from the colonies who also fought in both the Great Wars. I mean, come to think of it, we should probably get a memorial for them as well. 

So I have the chops for public service. I have the chops for campaigning, too. In the last fortnight, I've done a breakneck-tour of the more influential dealerships, shaking hands with sweaty-palm managers, buying donuts for the lads who wash the cars, and using the salesmans' first names, even though almost all of them are called Danny. 

But tonight is the big one, it's a dinner for many of the leading franchise owners. Not a formal hustings, it's just a chance to show our faces, show how much we love cars, from the East of England. But this is no social event, the way I see it these people must be left in no doubt, "This is the guy we can work with!". 

I've prepared a few thoughts, got some notes here. These are just some potential car names that I think will fly with the public, nothing too serious, but they happen to occur so why not jot them down? I've got the Ford Dignity, the Fiat Avalanche, the Honda Inuit - not sure about that one - the Vauxhall Vince and, pick of the bunch so far probably, my idea for a van called the Ford Ambition. A van, but with comfy seats and alloy wheels, special edition, only available in carnival red, they go like shit off a shovel but they are a van! The Ford Ambition!

If Ford doesn't like it I'll repackage it, take it to Vauxhall. Leather seats, electric windows, cruise-control, only available in anthracite black; it's the Vauxhall Ambition!

If they don't like it, no problem, we go to Renault. It's got velour seats, they fold flat onto a bed, air-conditioning, it's only available in cobalt blue; the Renault Ambition!

Then, on the right, I've jotted down a few funny observations I hope will appear off-the-cuff, but very, very, very-much won't be. I've got a thing here about middle-aged male cyclists which always goes down well with a car crowd. Clarkson pinged me a great word, he said "Instead of Lycra-clad cyclists, we should call them psycho-Lycralists!", great word mash-up, definitely using that one! Clarkson is laser-guided, you don't want to get in his crosshairs. He is my kind of farmer, he shows it's possible to farm irreverently.

Right, time to go. Important to look smart, polish your shoes, smarten yourself up. Things aren't as stuffy as they used to be, some well-turned-out guys haven't got a pot to piss in, and some very slovenly scruff-pots are very rich. Mark Zuckerberg, Scruff-pot-in-Chief. 

Just quickly brush my hair... Pluck some of my nasal hairs, no-one likes a hairy public figure, and we are good to go, wish me luck!

[a peal of bells]

Call for applicants! The Parish Church of St. Jude and St. John in Thaxton is seeking a new bell-ringer to join its dedicated team of passionate campanologists. Bells are rung on the first Sunday of every month, as well as for weddings, Christian feast days, and on the anniversary of the UK leaving the European Union.

A successful applicant must be in good health, and weigh enough not to be lifted into the bell tower.

Well, that was absolutely delightful! What a fantastic group of men, and they were all men apart from two ladies who, nonetheless, absolutely were team players. Ladies, chapeau, a real hoot! They were refreshing, whole evening was. I have to say that's the most professionally satisfied I've felt since I left the BBC. More so! Believe me I've spent a career broadcasting to ordinary people, don't get me wrong, wouldn't change it for the world, but my god, there's something extra special about delivering content to important people instead. People with clout. Oh! Loved it, loved it, loved it!

I said to them I said, "Guys, collectively we could move mountains!", and someone shouted out "Yeah, and replace it with a four-lane highway!", which I liked! People complain about moving mountains to make four-lane highways but... it's still rocks! It's just a mountain broken down, reconstituted, squashed, and shaped into a long straight line. Is that so bad? Worth thinking about it like that, isn't it? 

But you should have seen me, I was holding court, at one point I spoke out passionately against pedestrianised town centres and men who clog up country lanes riding bikes whilst wearing colourful Lycra I said, "Why do they dress in all that Lycra? They look like retired superheroes!", big laugh. "I don't know who they're fighting, the evil forces of ocular degeneration?", another big laugh. Got to try stand-up, I'd be such an idiot If I didn't at least try stand-up.

But anyway, whilst I was saying it I noticed a couple of them exchanged a look that said, "This guy's good". And after that I literally peppered what I was saying with car puns. I said, "This isn't just a feast It's a fiesta!". I said, "Anyone for golf?", referring to the compact hot-hatch by the German manufacturer. Or, "Let's focus on Ford!", Ford Focus, or, "Good to see Vauxhall aren't being too cavalier!", because of course they discontinued the Cavalier, then I pointed to the chap from Ford and his partner and said, "This guy's come with an escort!".

That one, yeah, went down less well because I actually do think she may have been from an agency. But I panicked a bit I said, "No wonder they abandoned the name, it's not as if there was a Daewoo Sex-Worker, or a Vauxhall Prostitute!", and, yeah, a few grimaces from the older ones but, I mean, the overall evening was a big success.

Pulled the guy aside later, mentioned my idea for the Ford Ambition and while I couldn't tell if he was interested, he was definitely not not interested, does that make sense? I just think there's something to build on there. But it felt good, and there was a serious point I was proving which is, as Car Laureate for the East of England you have to be on-message twenty-four-seven... fifty-two, three-six-five. 

And I get that cars have been getting it in the neck for decades! These guys need an ambassador who they can trust to be a safe pair of hands. At the end, I looked every one of them in the eye, not blinking a single time, and I said, "I will not let you down". Then I turned, collected my coat, treated myself to a giant, well-earned blink and headed home.

[sombre piano music]

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Well, I'm relaxing outside at my Oasthouse wearing my favourite footwear. Say what you like about the troubled history of Native Americans but we owe them a debt of gratitude for the moccasin. 

I'm in a pretty good mood because if the grapevine is to be believed, and no reason to doubt grapes, the Cardinals have chosen their Pope... Or to make it more Church of England, er, the Primates have chosen a new Archbishop which always sounds a bit... Animal Farm to me. It always sounds like a PG Tips advert to me, probably don't remember that, many of you. For the under fifties, PG Tips used to use chimpanzees in their advertising campaign. Sounds barbaric now, but yeah, I think they used to put peanut butter in their mouths to make it look like they were talking. Very clever. 

What I'm trying to say is The East of England Car Laureate has been selected. He, or she, just doesn't know it yet, but they will soon and I'm expecting a call from Norfolk Car Czar Clive Copeland to let me know the identity of the appointee. And I've got to say what a week of campaigning! Me and my team have burnt the candle at both ends to cajole, convince, persuade and pester anyone who's anyone in the East of Angland motor industry. We've pressed the flesh, we've eaten the flesh, e.g. at a motor trade barbeque last night, a Carbeque they called it. Lovely!

And I genuinely believe we've done everything in our power to make sure our message is out there, all we can do now is wait. I've reached out to Vicki Butler-Henderson, or Vic-But-Hen, congratulating her on her great campaign. Win or lose, we've both been a credit to the East of England motor trade. I'm tempted to say 'May the best man win', but in many ways she's better than a man, and she has done a lot. She's made a great contribution, not just for women in driving, but driving.

I'll say it straight away, she's faster than me but I'd add the caveat 'Is that what you want?'. Someone said "Why shouldn't we vote for Vicki?", and my bog-answer is always "I've learnt a lot from Vicki and I've added it to my experiences as a man, creating the best of both worlds. Vicky is very much from one world, and if that's what you want, that's what you'll get!".

Eamon Holmes called me up, he said "Alan, when you get this job, I think you'll feel like you've come home", and I think that's fair. He said, "You can make some great changes in the motoring industry of the East of England because you get it, you're the intersection between the big-wigs and the foot-soldiers. You're comfortable in the boardroom but you'd also be at home on the shop floor", and he's absolutely right. I mean, I wouldn't be wearing overalls, I'd have a tie on and a clipboard, strolling around. I'd be chewing the fat, asking questions, "What does this man do?", "Did you see the match last night?", "How long has this man been on a break?". 

And I also have celebrity endorsements. Yesterday I emailed every dealership a voice note from former-Top Gear presenter Quentin Wilson who's agreed to support me. I have it here;

"My name is Quentin Wilson, formerly of the BBC2's Top Gear and Top Gear magazine, I've worked with Alan on several occasions and find him to be trustworthy and pleasant. Behind the wheel he's a steady but enthusiastic driver who exercises good judgement while executing sometimes complex manoeuvres. I believe he will be a capable ambassador for the East of England motor trade".

Jesus, Quentin, you don't have to deliver it like there's a gun to your head! You might as well say you support the caliphate and your captors are treating you well!

[Bakelite phone rings] Oh my god it's Clive! It's Clive! Right, here goes! Inside, get this tape all inside, okay.

Hello, Clive!

Yes, now is a good time to talk. No, no, no, now is absolutely a good time to talk.

Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. Right. I see. Well, I understand the decision and I support the decision and I think it's a fantastic decision. It's a great sign of the progress of the organisation for motoring in the East of England and I'll leave it there. Bye, Clive.

Er... They've gone with Idris Elba. I see what they're doing, never stood a chance. We'll see how he gets on. Goodnight.

[up-tempo banjo strumming]

Words are most important if you wish to write a song,

It's really quite impossible without! (I'll say!) 

Though a ditty isn't witty with a melody alone,

A lyric can articulate with clout. (Bravo!) 

So get your biro Booker T, Orbital and Kenny G,

Don't mean Sir Cliff Richard, just the Shads.

Brian Eno, Aphex Twin, Khruangbin, if you're listening, 

Better bust a rhyme out, for the lads!  (By Jove!)

Words! Couldn't live without, 

Words! Couldn't sing without, 

Words! Wouldn't last a day without,

Words! (Bullingdon!)

(Words) Simplify or complicate! 

(Words) Elaborate or obfuscate!

(Words) Articulate and celebrate! 

Words!

 

[spoken] Jacob Rees Mogg'd like this!