Go into any watering hole and
somewhere amongst the din you will hear that the cab trade is
finished. A comment I’m sure everybody heard when on the
Knowledge. Which did little to encourage persisting with
what at times seemed an impossible task, particularly through
the cold winter months. And a likely reason why the reputed drop
out rate of 80% amongst an already low interest group, saw very
few new faces coming into the trade. Perhaps that might have
been the objective? Talk the trade down in the hope it would
deter wannabe cabmen from nicking their work. Whatever the
reason, this together with badges being relinquished and the
trade being selective in what work it did, evidently left a huge
gap in the market place for PH to exploit.
Ironically, from their inception in 1963, PH has grown at treble
the rate than badges issued and an awful lot of work has been
nicked in the process - a situation made worse by the cab trade
making no attempt to regain the initiative. Especially the trade
organisations, the very people who now more than ever should be
showing leadership in an industry whose members, in their
defence, work in an insular environment. I know I’m copying,
with a slight adjustment, a headline that goes back a bit - AD64
to be exact - but ‘fiddling while the cab trade burns’
seems particularly apt. When was the last time a trade
organisation newspaper stated the need for the cab industry to
smartens up its image, act like ambassadors and offer a number
of suggestions on how this can be achieved? The answer is
never, because there is this ridiculous belief that the trade
they represent is beyond reproach. That is manna from heaven
to PH and why one proprietor claimed in a full page spread in
the E S to be a multi- millionaire on the back of the cab
trade’s parochialism. Even so and contrary to what many believe,
this trade is far from finished, but like anything that’s been
around for over 300 years it most certainly is in need of a
face-lift.
During this recession, many of the big stores in an effort to boost
sales, have instructed their staff to be extra helpful and
polite. Its hardly rocket science, but it works. So do the same
and let it complement a recent piece of good fortune - namely
the John Worboys affair. Many in the trade thought it would be
extremely damaging, but it has in fact had the reverse effect. I
have never seen so many prominent figures and articles in the
press praising London’s Cab drivers long standing reputation for
honesty and integrity, and insisting it shouldn’t be tarnished
by the actions of one man.
Standards?
Long standing reputation indeed. Which begs the question: Since
when have supposed former strippers and porn stars been
considered fit and proper persons to become holders of a green
badge? I’m aware that civil liberties would have relaxed the
PCO’s strict character rules of the past (they nearly considered
me to be of dubious character because I had three points on my
driving licence). Evidently times have changed, and sadly for
the worst. Which doesn’t surprise me, since nobody any longer
considers it is their responsibility to set standards and the
reason why there is so much wrong about today’s society.
Recently, a footballer was accused |
of spitting at a team manager. Why the furore
when footballers are permitted to spend every minute spitting on
the pitch - a filthy habit copied by children on the street.
Another recent article in the press asked about men smartening
up their image to hang onto their jobs during this recession.
Image? What image when TV, once a model for setting standards,
considers it perfectly acceptable for sloppy unshaven
newscasters and presenters to appear without ties or jackets,
but instead to wear open-necked shirts or polo shirts? And along
the road from where I live is a church where I regularly see
adult males attending weddings dressed in track bottoms, jeans
and trainers. Is all this supposed to be, and I use a modern
euphemism – cool? Is it cool for pregnant women and the elderly
to be forced to stand on public transport whilst ignorant youths
occupy the seats? Is it cool to see police in Kevlar Vests
standing idly outside schools while children, either on a mobile
or effing and blinding, are putting the fear of Christ into the
elderly or those shopping nearby? And if anybody dare comment
and is lucky enough not to get stabbed, they get the finger and
are accused of being miserable old gits living in the past. A
past ironically when parents and those in authority had a
responsibility to conduct themselves and hold others to certain
standards, when discipline was taught in schools and the streets
were policed by real men - not 5’6" acne face adolescents - and
in a manner that showed their true worth. One such example of
that worth was myself receiving a hefty whack by a 6’3" local
Bobby when I was caught, aged 13, walking along a street holding
a cigarette, resulting in my never touching a fag from that day
to this!
It was also a past when between 1950 and 1963, 2.5 million males
age 17 to 21 were forced to do their National Service. There
were naturally a few who disliked being taken away from the
comfort of home and their mums and thought it was bullshit. The
majority however, including bullyboys who were soon pulled down
a peg, accepted the discipline and returned to civvy street as
responsible young men and grateful for the experience. They
became part of a society where cab drivers could earn a living
without fear of getting mugged and the elderly were not beaten
up and robbed of their pensions. It was also in the past when a
drill sergeant’s attitude was often applied in the work place,
including the public sector and specifically the PCO. I have no
idea how the modern day PCO go about separating the wheat from
the chaff. One thing I’m sure is: Diversity Awareness, which
includes bad language, behavior, colour, race, ethnicity,
nationality, culture, sex, disability, age,
|
religion/belief or sexual
orientation etc, would most
certainly restrict present day examiners from exercising their
duty in the manner of their predecessors. For example, when the
PCO was at 109 Lambeth Road…
Mr T v Mr Finlay?
That was where in January 1965 I arrived early one morning for
my first appearance. After being told to go down to the waiting
room in the basement, I and another guy who had arrived earlier
sat in the freezing cold for several hours, during which time
others were arriving and being called up before us. Eventually,
with patience wearing thin and almost dying of hypothermia, we
decided to go up to find out the reason for the delay.
Fortunately for me, the other guy spoke first. And the answer he
got was: Don’t like being kept waiting do you chum? So he
was told to go away and come back in three weeks! On hearing
that, I quickly legged it back to the basement and continued to
wait. Eventually I was called up to an office where for some odd
reason the examiner was sitting behind a desk in one corner,
while in the farthest corner was a chair, on which I sat.
Nothing was said for quite a few minutes, which suited me, as I
was pleased to be in the warmth. I was just getting comfortable,
when the examiner asked: "Who gave you permission to sit?"
I promptly stood and said sorry. He replied: "Sorry what?"
I said: "I beg your pardon," to which he rolled his eyes
and said: "I beg your pardon what?" I then realised I
should have addressed him as sir. I was then told to sit. Having
suffered for many years with a hearing defect, I had a habit
when sitting to speak with someone to move my chair forward
slightly, and as I did so, he gave me a piercing stare and asked
if I worked for Pickfords (furniture removers)? I immediately
moved the chair back! Eventually he asked me my first run.
The examiner, incidentally, had a broad Scottish accent and with
the distance I was sitting away from him, I had difficulty
understanding what he was saying. So I asked him to repeat the
run three times, to which he replied: Are ye bloody deaf or
ken ye nay understand bloody English lad? It transpired
he was asking me Broad Street to the Haemophiliac Society, which
I would have answered correctly had he not suddenly jumped up
smack in the middle of my calling the run and looked out of the
window and then start rummaging in his desk, causing me to lose
concentration. I was asked five more runs in a similar manner
and I failed each one. I was of course disappointed, but not
annoyed by his manner because it was obviously part of the test.
However, I did get a surprise at the end of that first
appearance. As I approached the examiners desk to get my card,
he gave me a rare smile and said: Well done, keep at it
laddie. Which I did, and within 12 months I was a proud
owner of the coveted green badge…
Allen Togwell
DaC Marketing |
