My Ronnie Corbett Story (minus any funny bits)

So I went to the bank...

I went to the bank to pay in the cheque the insurance company had finally sent me in compensation for my written-off car. Getting that money has been a long and drawn-out process involving many phone calls of the "what's going on?" variety. I do hope I get the chance to score this company on their customer service at some point down the line because I'll happily rip them a new one. They were constantly telling me "you'll get a call tomorrow" but no call was ever forthcoming. After chasing them for a week to find out when the car was going to be valued ("mañana") I finally got someone to tell me, last Thursday, that the valuation would be in by the "end of the day".

"So you'll call me either this afternoon or tomorrow morning to tell me how much you'll be offering me?"

"No. We'll be calling you next Tuesday."

"TUESDAY? Why TUESDAY!?"

"Because that's when it's been diarised by the computer."

"OK, what if I call you back in the morning?"

"Oh, if you call us, we'll be able to tell you then. But if you don't call us, expect a call on Tuesday."

Unsurprisingly, then, I was ready for a fight when I actually got the quote. Yet it turned out to be more than I'd expected. They actually offered me the old car's market value (minus my excess), which, coincidentally, was exactly what I'd paid for my new car. I snapped their hands off because I was sick of dealing with them. Which was probably their plan all along.

Anyway, I went to the bank with my cheque. The bank is just across the road from the university where I have my teacher training lessons. Not the college where I do my placement... which is proving an eye-opening experience, I can tell you. If you ever want to feel old... talk to a class of young adults. Last week, the subject of Princess Diana's funeral came up. "What do you remember about that?" I asked them. "We don't," they replied. It was only at this point that I did a rough calculation and worked out... most of them weren't even born.

But I told the producer I wouldn't digress so much in telling this story, so let's get back to the bank where I took my insurance cheque. There's one woman in front of me in the queue and as she approaches the counter to make a payment of her own, she's pounced upon by an overzealous bank employee who wants to talk to her about her account.

"If you could just spare me a few moments, I think I can get you on a much better account."

"Well, I can't really... I've only ten minutes left on the parking meter."

"It won't take any longer than that."

She squirmed, made more excuses, but the vulture wouldn't let her alone. Finally she relented and agreed to follow him back to his desk for the hard sell. I breathed a sigh of relief. At least while he was tied up with her, I could make my payment and escape before he had chance to get his claws into me. And so I did...

I arrived at the university about ten minutes early for my lesson, so I joined a group of my fellow trainees in the coffee shop. I sat down for a chat and Americano... and that's when my phone started ringing. "I better turn that off before the lesson," I thought, but even though I didn't recognise the caller's number, I took the chance of answering it.

"Mr. Hirst? This is Bob Vulture from the bank? You were here a few minutes ago to pay in a cheque?"

"Erm... yes... is there a problem?"

"Oh, no problem with your cheque, Mr. Hirst. That's gone in fine. No, it's just that I noticed the current account you were using is quite an old one..."

(I didn't even pay the cheque into my current account - I paid it into my savings account. He had no reason to even look at my current account.)

"I wondered, if you were still nearby, if you wouldn't mind popping back in to see if I can't help you onto a better account for..."

I won't bore you with the rest, but yes, you guessed it, the "better account" was going to end up costing me more money... and yes, he rather lost interest in "helping me" once he discovered I was currently unemployed.

Here's an appropriate song in lieu of a punchline...

The Day My Car Tried To Kill Me (Part 2)

So (as reported in my previous post) my car is in a ditch / hedgerow at the side of the road and I'm required to crawl out of the passenger door to call for assistance. I phone the police first: they're not that interested as I haven't hurt anybody else or damaged any property beyond my own. Next I call the roadside recovery people. "Someone will be with you within the hour." So all I have to do now is wait. Wait, and thank / reassure the people who stop to ask after my well-being.

I'm heartened by the amount of people who do stop. "Are you all right, lad?" "Do you need to borrow a phone to call for help?" "What happened?" Their mix of concern and curiosity gives me hope for the human race. At first. There's an edgy moment when the farmer whose field I'm encroaching stops by to check on the well-being of his fence, but he seems satisfied I've not done more damage and thankfully doesn't begin demanding reparations.

Then, after a while, my inner Larry David starts to take hold. It's a sad fact that even good will gets annoying after a while. By the time the 10th person has pulled over to check me out and hear the story ("I don't know what happened - the steering just went"), I start making a conscious effort to look unapproachable. Blasé or uncommunicative or stern or scary... whatever will keep them driving so I don't have to answer any more questions. Where is that bloody tow truck? How the hell can people get on my nerves even when they're just being kind? OK: I'm shaken, I'm fed up, I'm seriously worried about how this accident will affect my finances... but that's still no reason to be so grumpy, is it?

"You all right, lad?"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!!!"

Sigh. I really must try to be a better person.

The Day My Car Tried To Kill Me (Part 1)

Driving to Barnsley yesterday morning to do my teacher training, my car decided it'd had enough of boring, conventional, "square" roads and would much rather drive off into the hedgerow. For reasons yet to be ascertained, taking a sharp bend on a narrow country lane the steering wheel refused to respond and rather than continuing in the direction I was supposed to be travelling, I ended up crossing the road and driving down into a ditch, at a 45 degree angle, stopped only by a thick, spiky hedge and a farmer's barb wire fence. It wasn't that I skidded taking the bend, I've done that on icy or wet roads before and what generally happens when you try to correct the skid is that the back end of the car spins round and you end up facing back in the opposite direction. But there was no skid here: the road conditions were good and my tyres had plenty of tread. What happened instead was that the steering simply ceased to work and the car carried on forwards rather than completing its turn.

Thankfully I wasn't going particularly fast so the brakes and the hedge were sufficient to stop me from rolling the car over onto its roof. I'm just glad there was nobody else on the road or that I wasn't travelling in a built up area or on a motorway. I can't help thinking I've had a lucky escape: for all that my car is scratched and crumpled and broken, this could have been a far worse accident.

However, this is the final straw. I've had enough of this car now. It's one problem after another. I can hardly afford another one, but I can't afford to keep paying to have it fixed either... and I don't trust it any more. When the trust is gone, the relationship is over. If I can't even rely on it to stay on the road, it's time to say goodbye. When your car starts trying to kill you, put it out of its misery before it has another go.

Apologies to the poor roadside recovery man who had to crawl through a spiky hedge to attach the tow rope to pull the bloody thing out of the hedgerow - his arms were lacerated. And to the farmer whose fence I damaged, who was decent enough to show more concern for my welfare than the state of his field. I promise you both: that bloody car will see justice.

Top Twenty Car Crash Songs

You're only human, you have to slow down and take a look as you drive past this week's list of songs...

20. James - Crash (From 'Millionaires'.)

Probably isn't actually about a car crash, which is why I placed it at number 20. Who can tell with Tim Booth's lyrics? Great song anyway.

19. Half Man Half Biscuit - Tour Jacket With Detachable Sleeves (From 'Some Call It Godcore'.)

On his way back from seeing a night of terrible tribute acts (including I Can't Believe Its Not Focus and the Identical Cocteau Twins), Nigel Blackwell and his girlfriend Helen, in her eponymous tour jacket, take the last bus home...

As we boarded, I immediately felt a little uneasy, as the driver didn’t seem to know the required fare for our intended destination. As we made our way to the upper deck front seat, I felt the vehicle swing round to the left, as if to go along Bridge Street. “He really doesn’t know the route”, I thought, with increasing alarm. “Better go downstairs and help him out. Wait a minute. Bridge Street? The overhead railway Bridge Street? Oh my God – HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLENNNNNNNNNN…!!!”

Ten years later, Blackwell is driving the same bus route... and has a spooky encounter... with that very same black tour jacket (with detachable sleeves).

18. Crash Test Dummies - Mmm Mmm Mmm (From 'God Shuffled His Feet'.)

Once, there was this kid who got into an accident and couldn't come to school...

A true outcast's love story... and it all begins with a car crash. The boy was OK though - he was a Crash Test Dummy.

17. Ferlin Husky - The Drunk Driver (From 'Ferlin Huskey'.)

The maudlin and moralistic story of two small children killed by a drunk driver... with an awful twist.

This one will either break your heart or crack your funny bone.

Also by the same artist: I Dug My Daddy's Grave, Draggin' The River, Born To Lose (you get the picture)...

16. The Candyskins - Car Crash (From 'Sunday Morning Fever'.)

Britpop also-rans who broke up in 1998... have amazingly got back together. It seems there's even money in the reunion circuit for bands nobody can remember. Good on 'em.

15. Eminem - Stan (From 'Curtain Call - The Hits'.)

You know, the one with Dido wailing about her tea going cold. You may not remember, but it ends with Stan sticking his girlfriend in the boot of his car and driving it off a bridge. Like so many Eminem songs do.

14. Suede - Daddy's Speeding (From 'Dog Man Star'.)

Bret Anderson muses on how James Dean's car crash granted him immortality...

Whiplash caught the silver son
Took the film to No. I
Crashed the car and left us here
Broken glass for teenage boys trapped in steel and celluloid
Crashed the car and left us here.

13. Meat Loaf - Objects In The Rear View Mirror (From 'Bat Out of Hell Vol.2: Back Into Hell'.)

You'd be forgiven for thinking that every Jim Steinman song involves a car crash of some kind. Bat Out Of Hell has been described as "the ultimate car crash song" but much as I love that record (and I love it more than is healthy for a 39 year-old man), Objects... seems even more focused on the tragedy of a "fatac". Whereas BooH escapes the crash - and Hell itself - on a silver Black Phantom bike, Objects... stays with the accident, the death of Meat Loaf's teenage friend Kenny ("Oh my god, they killed..." etc.) and the way it's haunted him throughout his life.

There are times I think I see him peeling out of the dark
I think he's right behind me now and he's gaining ground

The video was directed by Michael Bay. Because, damn, who else could do this song justice?

12. Twinkle - Terry (From 'Golden Lights: Special Edition'.)

Though there has been much death and destruction in this list so far, this is the first actual death disc, an actual genre in its own right back in the 50s and 60s, wherein teenage girl (and occasionally boy) singers told tragic tales of young love cut short by driving too fast without paying due care and attention to the road.

I guess nobody ever took heed of the message in these songs because they just kept happening... as you'll see below.

11. Radiohead - Airbag (From 'OK Computer'.)

One of my absolute faves from grumpy Thom and the gang.

In a fast german car
I'm amazed that I survived
An airbag saved my life

10. Jan & Dean - Dead Man's Curve (From 'The Very Best Of Jan & Dean'.)

Every other early Beach Boys song was about coasting round town in your dad's character with a surfboard on the roof and bird-dogging chicks. Over on the other side of town, Jan & Dean were driving their cars a little more recklessly...

Won't come back from Dead Man's Curve...

9. Bruce Springsteen - Wreck On The Highway (From 'The River'.)

Another artist who spends much of his time writing car songs, so you'd imagine we'd come across more pile-ups in his repertoire than we actually do. Where many of the records on this list go for melodrama, Bruce strips away the pomp to give us a more personal reaction...

An ambulance finally came and took him to Riverside
I watched as they drove him away
And I thought of a girlfriend or a young wife
And a state trooper knocking in the middle of the night
To say your baby died in a wreck on the highway

Special mention must go to another Bruce song, Cadillac Ranch, dedicated to the place where smart wrecks go when they die...

8. Pearl Jam - Last Kiss (From 'Rearview Mirror: The Best of Pearl Jam'.)

Another death disc, originally recorded by Wayne Cochran back in 1961. I'm not a huge Pearl Jam fan, but this may well be Eddie Vedder's finest moment.

7. The Hours - Car Crash (From 'See The Light'.)

Me and you were just a car crash, baby
Everybody slowed down to take a look

The Hours - criminally ignored songwriters.

6. Black Box Recorder - Girl Singing In The Wreckage (From 'England Made Me'.)

Sarah Nixey crashes with her boyfriend on the way back from a New Year's party and gets stuck there for hour after hour after hour... or does she? It's a Luke Haines song, so who knows if she's telling the truth?

5. Ricky Valance - Tell Laura I Love Her (From 'The Very Best of Ricky Valance'.)

One of the all-time classic death discs ('bom bom bom bom'), originally recorded by Ray Peterson ('bom bom bom bom') though it was Ricky Valance who took it to Number One in the UK ('bom bom bom bom'). Tommy enters a stock car race to win money for his bride to be, loses his life in a crash, then comes back to haunt Laura forever, thereby ensuring her misery...

4. Dave Edmunds - Crawling From The Wreckage (From 'The Many Sides Of Dave Edmunds: The Greatest Hits And More'.)

It's a Graham Parker song, but the Dave Edmunds version was always mine. Despite the fact that "bits of me are scattered in the trees and on the hedges", the narrator of this song refuses to let one little accident prevent him "crawling from the wreckage... and into a brand new car". I hope he has good car insurance.

3. Shangri-Las - Leader Of The Pack (From 'The Best Of'.)

I love the Shangri-Las. So many of their songs end in teenage tragedy. Though this is their most famous record, there's similar automotive disaster in their Give Us Your Blessings, a song so woeful it makes Leader Of The Pack sound like an uplifting Jackanory story.

Sadly I can't listen to Leader Of The Pack anymore without hearing Julian Clary's spoof version, from his old identity as The Joan Collins Fanclub.

"Julian - is that Jimmy's ring you're wearing?"


No, it's not, it's my ring.


"Gee, it must be great riding with him... is he picking you up after school today?"


No, I don't go to school anymore - I'm 28 now.


Watch out for that great big lorry, Jimmy...
Oh... too late.

This wasn't actually the first Leader Of The Pack parody. Back in the 60s, The Detergents gave us the other side of the story... The Leader Of The Laundromat. (You'll have to hunt that one down yourself.)

2. The Primitives - Crash (From 'Best Of'.)

Another band back on the reunion circuit after nearly 20 years in retirement. Hope Tracy Tracy's vocal chords are still up for it.

Hands up if you thought this would be Number One?

Good guess... but look what you forgot...

1. The Smiths - There Is A Light That Never Goes Out (From 'The Queen Is Dead'.)

It could only be Morrissey & Marr's finest moment. The song that finally convinced me to love the Smiths. I haven't ever looked back.

And if a double-decker bus crashes into us...
To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die
And if a ten ton truck kills the both of us
To die by your side - well, the pleasure and the privilege is mine

But... lest you feeling I'm celebrating the car crash, I'll let the final word go to Tony Christie...

Drive safely darlin',
There's a long long road ahead,
And the weatherman says the freezing rain may turn to snow,
Mind how you go,
Drive safely darlin'
Mind how you go,
Drive safely darlin'

Do please take care on the roads… I need every reader I can get!

(Lyrics used for review purposes only. Copyright the respective songwriters. Removable on request.)

I Am Electro!

For months now, I've been afraid to shut my car door. Not when I'm inside, shutting it from the inside is fine because it's got a nice plastic handle that I can pull closed with no harm to my person.

Shutting it from the outside though, that's quite a different matter. Because when I do... sparks fly. Touching the metal door after I've been driving causes me a shock. It's not a problem with the car's electrics, it's a problem with me... and static electricity. It happens at various other times throughout the day - I get static electric shocks from coat hooks, tables, even... Louise! But it's worst when I get out of the car. So I had to take action.

Someone suggested buying one of those anti-static strips that hang down from the rear of your car and drag along the road behind you - the ones with a lightning bolt design you used to see on just about every car when I was a kid. My mum always told me these were to help people with car sickness. ("Do you remember your friend Liam? He used to get car sick all the time." Vague, blurry memories of Liam at the side of the road with a paper bag... there's nothing wrong with Mum's long term memory.) Apparently there's a theory that car sickness is caused by the build up of static electricity in the atmosphere or something...

Well, that's as maybe. And maybe those strips do help people with car sickness. But do they help prevent my electrocution? Let's find out, shall we...?

Yeoooooowchh!

That'll be a 'no' then.

Anyone else got any bright ideas?

My Personal Apology To Bill Hicks (and you)

By the way if anyone here is in advertising or marketing... kill yourself.


No, no, no it's just a little thought. I'm just trying to plant seeds. Maybe one day, they'll take root - I don't know. You try, you do what you can. Kill yourself.


Seriously though, if you are, do.


Aaah, no really, there's no rationalisation for what you do and you are Satan's little helpers. Okay - kill yourself - seriously. You are the ruiner of all things good, seriously. No this is not a joke, you're going, "there's going to be a joke coming," there's no fucking joke coming. You are Satan's spawn filling the world with bile and garbage. You are fucked and you are fucking us. Kill yourself. It's the only way to save your fucking soul, kill yourself.

That's Bill Hicks there. In case you didn't know. And I do agree with him. Which is the worst kind of irony.

I've worked in advertising for over 15 years now, but that's the day job. I've always tried to draw a line between that and my private creative work. But I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, Bill... I'm weakening...

I know what all the marketing people are thinking right now, "Oh, you know what Bill's doing, he's going for that anti-marketing dollar. That's a good market, he's very smart."


Oh man, I am not doing that. You fucking evil scumbags!


"Ooh, you know what Bill's doing now, he's going for the righteous indignation dollar. That's a big dollar. A lot of people are feeling that indignation. We've done research - huge market. He's doing a good thing."


Goddammit, I'm not doing that, you scum-bags! Quit putting a goddamn dollar sign on every fucking thing on this planet!


"Ooh, the anger dollar. Huge. Huge in times of recession. Giant market, Bill's very bright to do that."

You may remember this post from a few weeks back wherein I got all self-righteous about not selling out, refusing to run advertising on this blog or suck the corporate teet.

Yeah, well, that was before the car ended up costing me £420 for a new flux capacitor. And there's a holiday coming up. And I haven't bought any new clothes since winkle pickers were in. Principles are one thing... holes in your shoes are another thing entirely. And it's not as though my creative side is reaping fortunes... so until it does...

Consider this post an apology. An apology to Bill Hicks, and an apology to you. Because you may notice a few subtle advertisingy things cropping up here from time to time over the next few weeks. Because I really need the money. Feel free to ignore them and just go on about your business. And try not to hate me too much...

My Car Hates Me

Every time I think I'm getting on top of my finances, paying off my debts, that I might actually have a little spare change to fritter away on comics or mindless ephemera at the end of the month, my car comes along and knees me in the goolies. And it doesn't even have a knee.

I bought this car a little over three years ago. Aware that it'd probably be the last time I could afford such a purchase for a long, long time (knowing I was about to buy a house and take on all the associated gubbins), I asked for recommendations as to the most cost-effective vehicle I could buy. My main criteria was I wanted a vehicle that wouldn't always be in the garage requiring hefty repair bills - I've had enough Fords to know how they yearn for the company of greasy floors and grubby overalls... and don't even start me on the Seat that stole my life savings. (And it called itself a "Friend"!)

Toyota was the consensus. Toyota is reliable. You won't go wrong with a Toyota. And indeed, a few minor teething problems aside, the Toyota did me right. Until the warranty expired...

The first service I took it for post-warranty cost me £600. And that wasn't even at a main dealer. I was still wincing from that a few months later when the gearbox packed in. Another £500. Last summer it needed a new exhaust which caused me no end of trouble thanks to the useless muppets at KweekFeet. A month ago I took it in for a puncture repair and ended up needing another two new tyres on top. And now the catalytic converter is cracked. £420, including fitting and VAT. (At least the damned thing wasn't affected by the big Toyota Recall of last summer... though if it had been, I would have been able to claim it back.) And don't even start me on the price of petrol...

The worst of it is, the car seems to know. It knows when I have spare cash. Last year when my parents were kind enough to give me some cash to help with the new house... less than a week later the gear box exploded. I got some money for Christmas... and the tyres needed changing. My birthday cash... three days later, it's all gone... and then some.

I know it's crazy to anthropomorphosize a hunk of inaminate metal, but it's not like a car that hates its owner is entirely without precedent. Take Christine. Or The Car. Or even Chugga-Boom. I'm telling you though, if the bloody thing doesn't start treating me a little better, I'm trading it in... for an Audi.






(That was a joke, obviously. I cannot afford an Audi. Even if I could, I can't afford for right-thinking people everywhere to consider me an utter, utter c*** every time I sit behind the wheel. Apologies to those of you who are offended by vile four letter words. I promise not to write 'Audi' again unless I absolutely have to.)