Thursday, 28 July 2016

Clapham Omniblog - How it started and where the charachter inspiration came from.

The Clapham Omniblog and the Clapham Omnibus - What happened was...

It started out as a bit of a joke between my (recently) late friend Colin, (who was 82) and me. Colin had been born in Camberwell and I was made in Ealing and had lived in Teddington for four years so that sort of makes me a token Londoner, by default. In fact we both jointly owned a London Transport Routemaster bus. And his late father worked for London Transport. So this is all rather coincidental! Bit Proustian!

I like to do the odd impression and voiceover and I used to amuse Colin with a few of them of famous people and celebrities as he used to phone me up regularly, about 4 times a week. He was very interested in current affairs and we often talked about what was in the papers, a few years back he mentioned the (now late) Union Leader Bob Crowe of the RMT.

This was in the days of the reported alleged largesse of the union lunch and wine bills and so we were having a laugh about Mr Crowe's entertaining and I did one of my specials for Colin, in character as Bob Crowe with the voice and he fell about, so it sort of led to me developing my character of Reg.

We dispensed in our knockabout improvised sketch with Bob's Grand Cru Bordeaux wines and instead opted for a more working man's Mateus Rose, but we twisted this to become 'Machews Roses' and the unfortunate Black Forest Gateaux morphed into 'Blaahk Forris Gattoxes.' The old Machews being dispensed out of a Carafe, which became a Giraffe in our arena and by Colin's surrealism, a Camel. We found it hilarious. 'How many Camels have you got?' he would ask.

Back in the early 1980's before meeting Colin, I remember seeing a program on the East End and there was one old chap in the program who was from Canning Town, right in the East End, he had a unique diction, often missing out letters from his pronunciation, so for instance 'Canning Town,' became ''annin' 'ahnn.' And Council house, was pronounced as 'Cahrnsel 'aahse.'

I'd never heard this 'local dialect' before and this chap who was from Plaistow, which you might pronounce as it looks like 'Play-stow,' except his high pitched voice seemed to make it sound like 'Plaar-stow.' I remember one thing he said, was (in 'English first,')  'If I want entertainment, I go up (to) Canning Town.' So this was pronounced by him as 'If eye wants en'er'ainment, eye goes ahp ' 'annin' 'ahn.'

Indeed in 1977, I was accused by a French teacher of being a Cockney, even though I had only moved schools from about 2 miles away and I had not lived in London for seven years and the 'London' sound had only come from where I had lived in the previous four years which was not in London by over thirty miles inside the Stockbroker belt.

So, this inventive mind of mine, my love of comedy and this strange melange of situations and circumstances, evolved in my phone conversations with Colin. Indeed, he bought a Renault car and I had known a number of people who owned foreign make cars and often mispronounced the names. Such as a Peugeot properly being pronounced as 'Purr-jeau' becoming 'Pugh-joe.' Or possibly even a 'Pudge-it.'

So the Renault became a Wren-ault, an East End rendering of the pronounced 'Wren-oh,' of course we needed a place where it was bought and of course with our friend Bob's diction in mind, it had to be Hainault, so Colin's car became the fictitious 'Wren-ult of ain-ault.' And much fun we had with that. Having to go 'ahp 'ainawlt ter get me Ren-awlt fixt.'

Questions like 'ahr menee Camels of Machewses Rahsis can yer get in yer Wren-ault?' led to much merriment and so the concept came about, essentially as a comedy vehicle, you might say.

Although I had recorded one sketch in this incarnation with the sound of a London Transport Routemaster bus as my background using the Reg and Colin charachters, I hadn't written any more material as I was engaged on crime fiction writing for some years, but with the recent passing of Colin, I recalled our exchanges and wrote a sketch about the Renault from Hainault as a tribute, others seemed to slot in and almost write themselves. It seemed worth exploring, the musings of two elderly East End residents further.

I remembered the old chap from Plaistow and his diction and it seemed like it was inviting itself to be written that way. I recall years back at secondary school being bollocked by an English teacher about writing a piece of work in a Yorkshire dialect.

Wrongly criticised I felt, as the piece demanded a Yorkshire voice because it didn't really work in BBC English!  so I thought 'fack it, aisle rite it aahw it bleedin' well sahnds!' So I have.

Aaahnd, ere ett iz, verr Clapum Ormniblog. Via Camberwell Green. 'an Plarsterr' or Plaistow.

But of course, it would be lazy to leave it just there, so I incorporated the malapropisms of an old Londoner I worked for years ago into the sketches, which added a new dimension.

Much as I admired Peter Cook and Dudley Moore's work, their Derek and Clive characters
plummeted too far into the toilet via too much alcohol and resentment, so I introduced a more 'acceptable' form of mis-spelt profanity into my sketches where appropriate, if there can be such a thing!

I liked their 'Dagenham dialogues,' greatly, so I moved this type of setup on to when these sorts of characters might be around seventy years old, with the benefit of a great deal of real-life experience to discuss, but away from the comedic Pete and Dud and to another place. It was a reference point, not plagiarism.

In the 1980's, my mum had our house painted by a pair of Brothers did the job for us and listening to them was hilarious talking about subjects as diverse as the then famous footballer Paul Gascoigne, I remember one saying 'Gazza, ee can't handle it' (the media pressure) and this sort of added another dimension to this oeuvre.

So, hold very tight please and take your seat on Route 155 on the Clapham Omniblog, I hope you enjoy the musings of Reg and Colin, which I would like to put on video soon, as you may find the pigeon cockerney a bit difficult to follow, even if it is spelt phonetically!

RIP Camberwell Col.

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