I never much cared for the TV series A Family at War and I c

One particular advertisement always conjures up memories of a certain radio show I was presenting years ago (Beacon/WABC Wolverhampton), when the prize for the phone-in competition was none other thana model of the famous WWIairplane the Fokker D.VII. Every time my co-presenter, Dick Fisher, and I tried to say the word, we burst into fits of schoolboy giggles. After around two hours Dick looked up and said (off-air): "Damn it; I have been doing this for over 19 years. I am BBC trained, I can and will say the word in a totally professional broadcasting manner!" "I still think you'll laugh," I told him, but promised not to smirk, smile or even raise an eyebrow. "Welcome back to the Wide World of Sport," he announced. "We have a great prize to give away, a model of one of the most famous aircraft of WWI flownby the Red Baron himself, Manfred von Richthofen ­ the Fokker D.VII." He gave me a "there you are" look. "They have made some great planes," I pointed out. "I have always wanted to go to the company museum." "Mmm," said Dick, "that would be fascinating." "You know, they have the very first plane they ever made. It is still preserved for all to see," I informed him. "Really?" asked Dick. "Yep, it's called the Mother Fokker!" Shep's WWII advertising may offend the odd tourist but I find it very funny because it taps into the British Bulldog spirit and conjures up all those propaganda images of chaps having "wizard prangs", shouting "tally-ho" and "bandits at 11 o'clock". The latest offering does, though, baffle me. "No nazi aftertaste." The use of the word Nazi is emotive and though I don't actually find it that offensive, I am certain there are those who will. The issue is that there is actually nothing remotely humorous associated with the word. Cerebrally, all it conjures up are images of deportations and worse. Indeed, in the post-war European Union we no longer talk of German but Nazi atrocities. Licensees who have customers belonging to the Jewish faith are hardly likely to risk potential upset by displaying the poster in their pubs. There will be complaints. On the other hand, marketing whiz people will be arguing that there is no such thing as bad publicity (try telling that to Gerald Ratner!) Sorry Sheps, on this occasion you've got it wrong ­ bin it please! The beast of Blackley Apart from the personal circumstances involved, it's really enjoyable to be back assisting the British Institute of Innkeeping's membership development, albeit on a part-time basis. I particularly look forward to visiting our heritage and had a most enjoyable day out in the Lancashire countryside visiting Thwaites and John Willy Lees. The Thwaites brewery is a doddle to discover, situated majestically over the town of Blackburn, visible from miles away­ but John Willy Lees is a ***** to find. The strapline says JW Lees of Manchester, but closer inspection indicates it is in Middleton ­ but then again, not quite in Middleton, but on the very outskirts, visible from no more than 150 yards away. This is my way of explaining how, untypically, I arrived early. As I entered the reception, the lovely Hazel was emphasising the need for all her light bulbs to be working. "I want the reception at its best. We have a very important visitor coming!" she was informing someone on the phone. A couple more people came by. "Oh by the way Hazel, do tell Mr Christopher we shall be getting x sorted before you-know-who arrives from down south." I began to feel somewhat important. I apologised for being early but stated that I thought the reception area looked perfectly fine. "What do you mean?" asked Hazel. "You know, the extra light bulbs ­ there's no need really,"I explained. "It's not for you, it's for Prince Charles ­ he's coming a week on Monday!" Somewhat subdued, I sat down to while away the time with the local paper, The Middleton Gazette. On page seven was the sad story of Blackley's oldest pub, the Lion & Lamb, closing (by Pyramid) and although it was being mourned by Camra, a spokesman expressed no surprise at the decision Apparently the pub's problems began in the 1960s when Grand Met spent a load on a refurbishment and renamed it the Wrecker (and it gets worse!). The pub, so the paper reported, had a tropical theme with a live alligator being kept in the public bar. The landlord would, it was alleged, announce at 11pm that the customers had 10 minutes to drink up before he released the beast! Sadly it was the alligator who suffered, being repeatedly concussed by empty beer bottles before, in the interest of animal safety, being removed from the site. The article then went on to point out that despite [S&N] spending £150,000 and applying for a children's certificate, it never really caught on as a family pub ­ well not since the two people in balaclavas shot up the public bar with hand pistols. The last landlord walked out on an afternoon, leaving the customers to drink the pub dry ­ which they did by evening's end as word got round the town. I asked for a photocopy ofthe paper on the basis that if I wrote the above, no-one at the Morning Advertiser would believe me! Supply and the brand The acquisition of Pubmaster was somewhat inevitable with the size of the Punch war chest. I do feel for those licensees who came into the trade just five years ago proud to be joining a company as well established as Greenalls. They have now gone through InnPartnership to Pubmaster and soon to be Punch. The issue is not helped by other licensees bantering them at local meetings with "be afraid, be very, very, afraid". There is a relatively easy win-win situation. Pubmaster has brands, which would boost the trade of some Punch lessees, and Punch has brands available that would benefit Pubmaster publicans. Clearly I am not privy to the intricacies of the supply arrangements, but a widening of the brands offer to customers would be an ideal way to launch the new company. phildixoncmbii@aol.com