The Saturday List #228 - Ten reasons why I'm a pleb

Are you a toff or a pleb? Tory Minister Andrew Mitchell used the term pleb as an insult to a police officer who rather inconveniently insisted he follow the rules. In certain circles, being seen as a pleb would be worse than death itself. However the foolish, the self appointed elite who have such prejudices clearly are ill educated fools, unaware of the long and rich history of plebs. I've always been associated with plebian tastes. As the youngest of six, I was the only one of my siblings who did not have a private or grammar school education. As I'm dyslexic, my parents wisely concluded that it would be a complete waste of money. The down side for them was that I never developed refined tastes. My sister Caroline often teased me when we were younger about being a pleb. Then along came punk rock and being a pleb was cool. I was in the right place at the right time and I found myself comfortable in my plebian skin. My wife feels far less comfortable with the concept. It is one of the many things that she thinks she'd like to change, but has come to realise that my plebian tastes are in fact usually far more fun. Whisper it very quietly (she will kill me if she reads this) but I've been far more successful in plebifying her than she has been in gentrifying me. I am always open to try new things, none of the things here have been said without trying the alternative.

There are four types of people in London. There are the patricians and the plebs. These are quite well defined. Then there are the plebs who would be patricians. There's also the patricians who want to be plebs. In our family, we've had all of these over the years.

I always felt my father was a patrician who desperately desired to be a pleb. The Tichbornes were a wealthylLand owning family from Hampshire, my great grandfather, not being the eldest, emigrated to Canada to make his fortune on the Canadian Pacific Railway. My grandfather moved from Canada to Australia to make his fortune as an engineer, boring for oil and water in the Outback. Sadly alcohol and misfortune took him too early. My Father came back to England as an Officer in the Royal Australian Air Force (I've often thought his posh name opened doors for him), but whilst he could mix with the Hoi Poloi, he was always more comfortable with working men, a hangover from his days working in Goldfields in the outback.

My mother's father was from a family with strong Irish Republican links. She was delighted to marry my father, as she could ditch the name Fanning, which identified her as Irish working class and become a member of the aristocracy as a Tichborne. She soon ditched the Oldham (where she'd been brought up) accent on arrival in London as a 13 year old. She changed her name from Gladys to the far more sophisticated sounding Celia. Strangely, after she had a stroke in 2000, she reverted to Gladys. She told me that she was through with trying to impress people over a guinness in Lourdes. When I asked why, she simply informed me 'It's my name'. She had been named after her aunty Gladys, who was her godmother and reputedly had a few bob. I've never really been sure whether I'm a patrician who wants to be a pleb or just a pleb. My sister Caroline has always been sure. She often told me that I'm just a pleb when I was as a child. Ironically, she introduced me to punk rock and having spent the first eighteen years of her life trying desperately to be a patrician, she rather uncomfortably had to connect with her inner pleb when punk made it cool. My missus is definitely a patrician and desperately regrets her low brow tastes in men. She had convinced herself, despite all evidence to the contrary, that I'm really a patrician. She thinks my plebness is simply a vehicle to further the goals of my immense ego. Sadly I suspect that she'll be bitterly disappointed if she ever finds the truth out.

1. I prefer Ska music to classical music. If you want to listen to a tune with no words, then try The Liquidator by The Harry J All tSars



2. Now if you want a bit of singing, I don't really like the warbling of Opera. I can manage a bit occasionally, but I prefer a different kind of passion from the singers I like. To me, this is best exemplified by John Lydon's first single with Public Image


3. I'd rather buy four bottles of six pound a bottle plonk than one bottle of exquisite £24 wine. There is nothing worse than having a nice romantic dinner and finding that you've run out of plonk before the second course.


4. I prefer to read 2000AD comic than translations of Dostoevsky novels, fine though they are.

Many thanks to Kek-W and Lee Carter at @2000AD for this rather amazing illustration of a post #Brexit and mid climate crisis Great Britain pic.twitter.com/jCuHipmsZg

— Roger Tichborne/RogT #CTID (@Barneteye) August 17, 2019

5. I passionately believe that the smaller the portion, the worse the restaurant. There is nothing worse than ordering a 'Seared Scallop' starter and finding that it is just that. One tiny scallop on a massive plate.


6. If I want to sing, I do not feel inclined to join a choir, I prefer to travel to the Etihad Stadium in Manchester and sing songs of celebration of the genius of Pepe Guardiola.


7.  My idea of virtuoso playing of an instrument is best exemplified by Johnny Ramone. This was the first Punk Rock track I ever listened to and there are few finer examples of the art of making a sound on a musical Instrument. Johnny Ramone proved that less is sometimes more



8. Prince Charles feels that unless a building looks like it's designed to be a bad mock up of something Julius Caesar erected in Rome, it is a monstrous carbuncle.  I disagree. The one building in London that I always enjoy seeing is the Shard. This is my favourite London view.

Blackfriars Thameslink - The Station with the best view in the World pic.twitter.com/zTrxrDD8h3

— Roger Tichborne/RogT #CTID (@Barneteye) April 5, 2019

9. I do not understand the fascination with steam engines. A couple of years ago, we saw an advert for a steam train going from Mill Hill Broadway to Bristol. The trip came with a magnificent champagne breakfast and a three course dinner on the way back, in a Vintage Pullman carriage. The train was meant to be hauled by a steam engine. My brother lives in Bristol, so it was a great treat for our wedding anniversary and a good chance to see him. The Steam engine broke down the day before and they put a diesel engine on the front instead. It got us there an hour earlier, so we had an extra hour seeing my brother. The dinner was just as tasty, but everyone else was royally pee'd off. I quite like a bit of modern technology, especially when it works better!




10. I prefer to shop in TK Max to Harrods. now, I have nothing against Harrods, it is a fine store and I always take tourist friends there if they ask. I think London is a far better place for having Harrods, and it provides work for thousands, directly and indirectly, but when it comes to buying stuff, I nip up to TK Max . in Hatfield. Just before my recent trip to France, I stocked up on T shirts and found a great pair of trainers and a great set of boots. I think the last thing I bough from Harrods was a scarf for my Mum about 25 years ago fro her Birthday. Cost a fortune and she gave it to my sister as a birthday present a month or so later. 


Thats all folks!