By now Luke Upward’s admonitions to the rubicund Mayor of London on letter-box corporations were causing him even more discomfort than his extempore exordium on London’s pedestrian misery. When Upward paused momentarily to wave aside the offer of one of the lesser canapés served by the amiable Marquis de Tarpaulin, Boris Johnson tried to divert him to the original topic by promising him a Working Party on London’s pedestrian problems. “A Working Party, Mr Mayor? Well, it certainly could not be a Walking Party or the members would never get to their meeting in time. For London’s pedestrians a Standing Committee would be more appropriate.” Upward guffawed heartily at his own sally and the Mayor responded to his “Ha-ha-ha!” with a deferential “Hee-hee-hee.” “If you are serious about helping London’s pedestrians, Mr Mayor, we have no need of Working Parties or Standing Committees or even a Taskforce. I will give you a list of three things you could do tomorrow by decree.” England’s premier man of letters gave a discreet signal and the Marquis’ raffish butler, Rhett, shimmered up to him with some crested notepaper and the Marquis’ very special Mon Dieu fountain pen. In the exquisite handwriting which inspired the legendary Hermann Zapf to create his Virtuosa typeface, Upward dashed a few lines on the paper below the Marquis’ family motto “Bois, Buvons, Payez!” He then folded it, and passed it to the Mayor. “Ban pedestrians from using mobile phones?” The calm voice of England’s premier man of letters silenced the expostulating Mayor as a giant grasshopper might silence the lesser of two weevils. “And why not? Motorists are banned from using them in motion. They are an almost equal menace on the pavement. Pedestrians using mobile phones make sudden stops and unpredictable turns. They abandon all lane discipline. They cause frequent collisions. They are especially dangerous in the hands of backpackers – the heavy goods vehicles of the pedestrian world. When operated by teenagers, already the slowest pedestrian traffic, they block entire lanes of pavement and induce older walkers to attempt risky overtaking manoeuvres. “There are powerful further motives for a ban. For one, mobile phones have made it impossible to tell whether another pedestrian is dotty, or worse still, a writer. If you saw a chap talking to himself on the pavement you could put him down as one or the other and try to avoid him. But now he’s probably talking into some kind of mobile phone. ‘Hello, I’m on the pavement. I’m on the way to the bus and then I’ll take the bus to the station and then I might be on the train but if it’s cancelled again I’ll take the bus back to the coach.’ “And that’s another thing. Mobile phone users are so boring. Pity the poor spies having to record them all.” (Upward had the fantasy that all mobile telephone conversations were recorded by the security services, not knowing of the very strict government guidelines which limit such interceptions to very naughty people and the very naughty people who talk to them and the very naughty people who talk to the very naughty people who talk to the original very naughty people). “Do you not find it curious, Mr Mayor, that governments now record everyone’s conversation at precisely the time when nobody has anything to say?” The Mayor shrank back in the direction of away, upsetting the remains of an iced swan. In the resulting tohu-bohu he escaped to his emergency bicycle. The remaining company at the soirée never heard the other two items on Upward’s to-do list for London’s pedestrians. In the interests of public transport and literature alike, I call on the Mayor to publish them now.
Posted on: Tue, 02 Jul 2013 09:16:20 +0000
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