The Fencemaster Diaries - An original Fencemaster blog from 2001

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~ The Fencemaster Diaries ~

What do you mean; 'What fence?' The one in London (Marylebone Lane, W1) where I had locked my bike for around six months, until on February 5th 01, when a notice appeared thus:

Howard De Walden Estates Limited
Any bicycles chained to or leaning against these railings will be removed
without further notice.

I was a bit cross about this. There was a tube and rail strike on that day. Cycling had been hailed in Parliament as the most efficient way to get to work in London. I thought about it a little more over the rest of the week. This ugly fence, in front of an ugly building in a mews street had no business not allowing bicycles to be attached to it. There was no attractive Edwardian facade for a bicycle to disturb; it wouldn't be causing an obstruction, or even posing a security threat (exploding bicycles are something some people are particularly worried about).

On closer examination later that week I noticed an attractive legal loophole in the sign's wording. Fine, I thought, I shall lock my bike elsewhere. I'll lock other things to the fence.

I didn't do anything for a while, I let it lie. But over the next month it all seemed to fall into place.

This particular Le Creuset kettle while being an attractive shape and agreeable British Racing Green, was worse than useless at its job. We put up with it for a few years coughing and spluttering a minimal amount of reluctantly boiled water anywhere, but into the teapot.

The wife eventually came home with a new, more standard plug-in type of thing, which whilst admittedly a superior boiler, wouldn't be as much use in hand-to-hand combat as its heavier rival. 'Can I keep the old one?' I asked.
'Yes, but not in the house. Go on, get away with you.' She needn't have worried; I had a good safe place in mind for the kettle.

Its plastic handle was bit rubbish and would be easily broken. I thus decided to go in through the heavy iron base. Where's the family drill? Where's the handy family centre punch? A tiny bit of fannying about later, and here was a pricey Le Creuset masterpiece vandalized with a couple of holes and a fairly nasty padlock poking disturbingly out of its base. Excellent.

Let's just imagine I'm on my way to work, but can't take the kettle into the office (they're not allowed) I need somewhere safe to leave it. I know, I'll attach it to the fence. I checked the sign again and it made NO MENTION of kettles, so early one morning (7ish) on it went. There it stayed for a good few weeks too.

It's gone. Someone must have taken a hacksaw to it. I knew it wouldn't be on the fence forever, but it had become a pleasing sight first thing in the morning, something to look forward to, I'd also noted it was something of a local talking point. Anyway, now it's gone, I was a bit sad about that.

I couldn't let it go throughout the day either. Before close of play I printed out a strongly worded note: 'Where's my kettle? I want my kettle back'. On the fence with it. That'll tell them, I thought. It did as well, the next morning there was the kettle perched by the fence, the notice gone. I cradled it lovingly and took it back to the safety of my top floor office.

It's the principle of the thing I told her, but she doesn't understand. I am not allowed to discuss what I want to put on the fence any more. She thinks it's an unhealthy obsession and is no longer prepared to have anything to do with it.

I was a bit sad about this, as I see discussing and looking for things to put on the fence an ideal activity for all the family.

For your information, I started calling the wife Mrs Fencemaster a few weeks after this. I also call her 'the little woman'. This entertains us both tremendously as she's a rather tall lady.

There was a heated moment today when a spy reported seeing an angry business man-type talking angrily into his phone while looking down at the crappy brass plaque with a picture of a lion on it that I had bought in charity shop over the weekend, and had attached to the fence this morning. It was gone later in the day. I can only arrive at the conclusion that these two incidents are linked.

I saw two builders pointing and laughing hysterically at the yellow pan. This had been installed in the same manner as the kettle, a healthy centre punch followed by a padlock with a generous shackle persuaded through the base. They (the builders) were laughing far more than was appropriate really, but perhaps they had just shared a private joke. I don't know.

It's been quiet on the fence this week and will be even quieter next week, prior to official launch. The pan I bought from Asda was always disappointing; it couldn't follow in the footsteps of its predecessor, the yellow pan. It wasn't yellow for starters. It has made a surprising disappearance over the weekend anyway. Good riddance to it I say. Saved me the job of taking it off.

Nothing on the fence for two weeks! One brave courier locked his bike to it for about five minutes, which was somewhat foolhardy, otherwise nothing. I'm going for a launch. The site isn't ready, but it never will be. I rarely finish anything I start and don't see why I should break the habit of a lifetime right now.

I am spending lots of time at work on it, passing it off as a technical development exercise. In my company technical development means scratching the surface of PHP (Hypertext Pre Processing), which is just the same as HTML, only spelled PHP. Then there's SQL, Perl, and some other things I frankly don't have an aptitude for.

I did an extensive amount of research (spent two minutes searching with the help of Google). www.bikemagic.com has an extremely busy cycling related bulletin board, I shall barge in and post my sorta-kinda press release thing to see if anyone at all is interested in this whole fence issue. Done.

Thanks to the good people at BikeMagic, guests have begun to arrive at this site and leave messages of support. One person has already pointed out that there are two sides to every story and the bottom line is that it's not my fence. I agree. If the notice hadn't appeared on the day of the tube strike, if the fence was in front of anything other than an ugly wall...

This always fills your Fencemaster with fear. The young Fencemasters are used to making sure they are firmly tucked up and out of danger.

I burst in hoping to show her print outs of all your messages: 'Look', I said, 'at all these smart suggestions and messages of support from all over the world'.
'I AM WATCHING ER' Mrs Fencemaster retorted. Firmly. Not wishing to be intubated (watching ER does not mean you are fully trained, I keep telling her). I went quietly about the business of trying to cover up the fact that the site was far from finished.

Oh yes, a quick statistics check revealed that the site had 30,000 hits in the 24 hours after I posted the message about it. Down hill from here I thought, the site isn't even officially launched yet. That's happening on Monday.

Yesterday, Mrs F. called me from 'the shops' and asked if I wanted anything. 'Some balloons and a small canister of helium', I demanded, wishing to enhance Monday's fence launch (I always enjoy passing a car dealers when they have gone to the trouble to attach balloons to each car. It makes me want to buy, buy, buy).

Mrs Fencemaster seemed confident about her ability to fulfill. However, there must have been a communications breakdown, as she turned up an hour later with 10 fully inflated balloons. This should make me easy to spot cycling up High Street Kensington tomorrow morning.

Okay, there's no way I can cycle 14 miles with 10 helium filled balloons. I cheated. They filled a couple of rubbish bags and a Junior Fencemaster and I drove up in my tiny and economical little runabout. I'd left them outside the office disguised as rubbish. Imagine my surprise as rounding the corner on to Wigmore Street we saw a rubbish lorry collecting. The best laid plans etc.

I haven't often got up to leave for work at 4:30 am. It was a lovely sunny day, Richmond Park was a joy to behold at 5ish and I rolled up with a good hour to attach the ironing board that was posing malevolently in my office, pierced and adorned with a couple of strong and pricey D-locks (I still had a credit card then).

The balloons were still there too, which was a bonus. I snapped away with my rubbish little digital camera (it's falling to bits) from many angles.

I don't know what this world has come to. A Fencemaster can't leave his ironing board anywhere without fear of it being vandalised - someone has ripped off its lovely cover (underneath which I'd pasted several smart 'What should I put on the fence?' postcards, they've gone too). The cable lock has disappeared, but the strong D-lock remains, and my ironing board is still locked to the fence where I left it 'just for safekeeping'.

Your Fencemaster was elsewhere this morning, so not on scene for the arrival of what has been described as 'a burly man well equipped for removing things from fences. Obviously a professional.'

I am especially sad, as I didn't get to even see the iron a mysterious benefactor had attached today. The bloke was heavily armed, sporting an angle grinder. No attempts to negotiate then.

The ironing board is gone, but not forgotten. So is the iron. Fencemaster deep in thought. Must distribute postcards. Possible reappearance of original kettle planned. Such a lovely day, so tinged with sadness. Oh yes, I did spot another spare ironing board this morning...

One of the reasons I missed yesterday's action (Sadly a bare fence again) was that I took the young Fencesters (they like that) to school. It was 'Mufti day', which means they could wear their own clothes instead of school uniform. Very exciting. They were also encouraged to take things in for the tombola at the upcoming school fair. The young Fencesters were genuinely delighted at the thought of Lucky enjoying a day on the fence and thus liberated him from the indignity of the tombola.

There's a £20 million advertising campaign running in the UK at the moment (Ogilivy & Mather) featuring pretend lost dog posters: 'Has anyone seen Lucky?' There's a web address to respond too: www.whereslucky.com. The bottom line is that it's an advertisement for a new range of financial products. Hmm.

My 'Has anyone seen Lucky?' campaign will, of course, lead people here. I am just printing out the posters, I meant to print 10, but my fingers got confused and I accidentally printed out 100. Oh the joys of arriving at work 2 hours before everyone else.

I had a polite e-mail from Howard De Walden Estates last night. I am just checking with them that it's OK to reproduce the entire message here. In the meantime:

They informed me that they DID NOT put up the sign and they ARE NOT removing the items. They pointed the finger at the owner of the 999 year lease on the building that the fence is attached to.

That landlord obviously believes he/she (local gossip says it's a she) has some kind of divine right to control other people solely due to the amount of property owned. I had a feeling this was the case.

That landlord, surprise surprise, is the only person not taking this personal protest of mine in the spirit intended.

I just went to get a sandwich (2pm) and check on my bike, locked to railings (with no sign on), in Bulstrode Street, W1. It's been stolen. I am waiting for a crime number from Marylebone police station.

It's gone. It was nicked on Friday. The Crime desk at Marylebone police station called back on Saturday to take down details, such as the frame number of my bike (p9ki03510) and other information. I now have a crime reference number too. The officer was extremely helpful and didn't display the complete lack of interest or concern I was expecting. Quite the opposite. I am grateful for becoming such a minor crime statistic. It could have been worse.

I was almost equally distressed when opening the London Evening Standard on Friday expecting to find a positive feature about cycling in London (and the fence), but instead finding a double-page spread entitled Two-wheel menace about what a nuisance cyclists are. No mention of the fence.

Back to the drawing board this week. I need to get a new bike first though; I don't think you can be a proper Fencemaster without a bike. Nothing with a 21" frame (your Fencemaster is 6'3) was available locally, so it was Southwest Trains today.

Nothing on the fence, except for the padlock that locked Friday's kettle on, it's looking a bit sad. I still have no bike and don't think I will have until the end of the week. However, an item has appeared at home that is both stylish and will cause maximum annoyance. Your Fencemaster promises to deliver by the end of the week. Maybe Thursday, maybe Friday.

The blanket ban on discussing the fence at home was lifted last week, for the launch. However, Mrs F seems to have restored it again, as whenever I say anything to her she cuts me off before I can get a word out: 'SHUT UP'. She then gives me a minute or two to worry, and comes back with: 'This isn't about the fence is it?' Hmm.

Getting the train does have the advantage that I can sit and write this in the 35 minutes it takes the train to go about 11 miles. I use a Palm - not one of those hand-held computers though, I write in tiny letters on my left Palm.

Your Fencemaster envisaged spending at least part of today denying any knowledge of the green door, in a similar manner that Howard De Walden Estates and McGlashans are denying putting the sign up. However, I don't want to go down that same route.

Here's what I think will happen: One of the McGlashans will have a SMEG fridge at home without a door, and thus be delighted. Or they will collar me and attempt to get me to dispose of it on a 'we've got better things to do/can't afford to waste time and money... and so on' basis. I have wasted time and money every day for five days coming to work on the train and tube since my bike was stolen BECAUSE I WAS STOPPED FROM LOCKING IT TO THIS STUPID FENCE, I will retort.

Next week I will endeavor to do justice to everyone's smart suggestions. A piece of fence is popular, I have a tricycle all lined up, a tin of Quality Street would be easy, and I'll look into signs and their associated costs this weekend. Is that OK? I hope so. I doubt I'll launch an installation every day, as the element of surprise seems effective as far as the landlord is concerned. Mrs Fencemaster has recently resorted to throwing things at me as a preferred method of communication, so I will have to be careful on that score too.

I'll try to attribute what's installed to everyone who suggested it. If I miss you out bug me via the magic of e-mail and I will sort it out. The Internet isn't carved in stone you know. Oh no.

I have been out with Mrs F this weekend, as Granny Fencemaster/the Fencegran has been on a visit and kindly offered to babysit. Like she had a choice. I took Mrs F for a riverside stroll (there are pubs, don't worry) and even tried hard not to mention the fence. However, some fence-related matters were pressing on my mind and I am a great believer that a trouble shared is a trouble doubled, so wanted a feminine viewpoint. I can't remember precisely what my particular worry was because Mrs F is currently employing a strict 'first strike' policy for such occasions. A martial

art concentrating on the handbag as an offensive weapon might one day be as universally popular as it is with Mrs Fencemaster. In our case, of course, it's a marital art, and as such forms part of the healthy sparring that's necessary to maintain a marriage approaching the end of its tenth year. Your Fencemaster does not, of course, have a handbag of his own and thus feels the odds are unfairly balanced with Mrs F, but that's OK...

Both Mrs F and I were out again last night, celebrating different things in different places, but we did manage to meet up. I can't remember what happened then. I checked with Mrs F this morning and was pleased to discover that I was on my best behavior, only mentioning the fence when prompted.

News is coming in of other people attaching things to fences around the UK. I can't see many fences gaining attachments in the US, due to the proliferation of powerful and dangerous firearms, particularly among fence owners. It's probably not a route I would have gone down there.

I couldn't possibly condone this nationwide attaching of things to fences. It might set me up for an, er, incitement to attach things to fences charge, and we wouldn't want that. Oh no.

Various people berated me for locking a perfectly good tricycle to the fence yesterday on the grounds that I was depriving a small child (they were often specific as to which child) of an economical and environmentally friendly method of transport.

I have removed it today and rehomed it with one of those aforementioned children, giving the fence a day off. The day off is partly due to my over-excitement at collecting a new bike. This is something that never diminishes from the age of eight and on; a new bike is a new bike. It's exciting. However, as I can't lock it to the fence it'll probably be nicked right away.

Since my bike disappeared just nine days ago I have spent £90 on public transport. However, that's all behind me now, as thanks to the kind people at Wheelie Serious I have a new bike. They were kind enough to take pity on me and lop a whopping £350 off the price. Bicycles are expensive these days you know. I stumped up £300 to complete the deal. Luckily they accepted cash. It's blue where my old bike was red and there are other differences too. The frame is aluminum, which is 30 per cent lighter and 40 per cent stronger than steel. It's also (unlike steel) 100 per cent recyclable. I could melt it down then, er, melt it again and make an identical Specialized Rockhopper. I think.

Nausea 05-July-01

I have a couple of small items ready to go live on the fence, both popular suggestions. However, your bone-idle Fencemaster missed the deadline this morning by having an hour-long 'lie in' and not getting up until 6:30. Tomorrow (Friday) then. This whole early riser business was not my idea. Last year I heard a French proverb that went thus: 'The future belongs to he who rises early', or something like that. It sounded reasonable whatever it was. So to Mrs F's horror, I immediately adopted it as a way of life. All I've gained so far is a fairly consistent feeling of nausea that lasts throughout the morning. I do find it's best to keep an open mind about these things though.

It's been brought to my attention that I don't hold exclusive rights to bike parking dispute based/fence related art installations. This is fine by me. If you have a fence issue you'd like to highlight in a harmless and creative way, I'll help if I can. Remember the Rules and hey, be careful out there. Especially where your constitution allows fence owners, among others, the right to bear arms.

There's a new section just in case it becomes popular. Go on, have a look: Fences of the world

I had a good look round this weekend, hoping to fulfill the most popular suggestion - another fence. It's featured in the Star suggestions list for two weeks, and is an eminently sensible idea. Even several fences, all different styles, would be nice. However I couldn't find a suitable fence. I had a nice white picket fence in mind, to start with. Can anyone point me in the right direction? I hope so.

If only I lived in Montana, I could contact the unlikely-named Fencemasters. They make fences. Your London-bound Fencemaster breaks into song: 'Movin' to Montana Soon...' (Frank Zappa. 1940-1993)

It's been suggested that Mrs Fencemaster should be more correctly titled as the Fencemistress, but her limited tolerance of all fence-related matters rules this out, don't you think? Anyway she's been very excited all week, due to her new bread machine (credit cards are wonderful things). She got it wrong the first time and forgot to add the flour, or egg, or both. We had to eat it and look impressed anyway. A few more tries and there it was. A loaf-shaped lump of bread on the table. Mrs F was so excited she fell about laughing, then got up and pointed at it in a hysterical manner, then fell about laughing again. I was terrified. I'd like to help her celebrate the bread machine, and ask her to make a loaf to attach to the fence, but it would be more than my job's worth.

What a lovely day for cycling. Even the wind accidentally veered until it was temporarily behind me, thus mistakenly providing assistance instead of fulfilling its traditional role of attempting to throw me off or reduce my forward speed to about 1 mile per hour (I'm not as young as I was). McGlashans seem to start running their basement flat laundry before 7am now, which must obviously be less of a disturbance for the people that live in the house than someone locking a bike to the railings. My plan to lock a round thing to the fence this morning was thus hampered, as I didn't particularly want to have another close encounter this week, not with the bearded man anyway.

I don't have a dog. However, I do consider the three junior Fencemasters to be acceptable dog substitutes. The only difference between three dogs and three junior Fencemasters is that dogs are welcome in pubs, children of any sort generally not. That really is the only difference. I don't see this as a major disadvantage as I wouldn't want to take them into pubs anyway. It's just the principle: 'Your dog's welcome, but don't bring any filthy, noisy children in here'. It's not something I feel strongly about, so don't worry unduly.

Speaking of dogs, there is a good case for a temporary lapse in rule #fr001 (What? You've not read the Rules) so that a lovely old black labrador could be temporarily attached to the fence.

Now I don't want any animal rights-style complaints, as dog owners are often known to attach their charge to anything handy while they nip in somewhere to get something. It wouldn't have to be for long either. However, I don't have a dog, so it's not an idea with legs, so to speak. If only that brilliant business idea I had about 15 years ago had taken off. Here it is:

Rent-A-Dog
'If you like dogs,
but are often away,
why not rent one?
just for a day.'

Cycling is great for creative thought, as there isn't much alternative. Not for an aged commuter like your Fencemaster anyway. Today, again, I realized I'd be too late to attach the dirty thing in my office to the fence without the bearded man stepping in, so dug around for other inspirational ideas. In London, whether cycling or driving, you have to look out for blokes (OK, women too) on scooters. You need to be especially careful of scooters with clipboards attached to the handlebars. Everyone in London knows what they're up to. They are trainee London taxi drivers doing what's called 'The Knowledge'. They're prone to stopping suddenly.

Creative idea of the day: A partwork (you know, issue two free with issue one/subscribe now for a free mouse mat) called Cab! An initial headword list is presented below:

Cab!
*Cabs of the world
*Cabs through the ages
*Cab Comment
(Example: Cab drivers - Should they be armed?)
*Cab health
(Example: Isometric exercises you can do in your cab)
*Routes of all evil
(Example: Heathrow Airport to Kensington. The scenic route)

It's a start anyway. Anyone interested? I'll require the usual pointless fact-finding trips abroad and lots of free lunches, which there's no such thing as.

Being thirty six is going well so far (I was thirty six yesterday). Although I did start it off by attaching a bicycle wheel and pedal to a fence. It could have been worse, I suppose. Mrs F was very patient this weekend, and allowed open discussion of a few fence issues without so much as a raised eyebrow, let alone fist. She even offered me an old pair of shoes and a handbag for the fence, which could give it a pleasant feminine touch. She hasn't produced them yet though, and when it comes down to it, saying goodbye forever to a pair of shoes will prove physiologically hard for her, if not impossible. Some counseling might be required. I would love to reduce the shoe count in the Fencemaster household though, they're everywhere. Some even follow me round, I'm certain of it. www.shoes.co.uk is Mrs F's homepage of choice. I firmly believe the fence is an ideal place for shoes.

Mr Sting, as I call him, is doing a concert in Hyde Park at the end of July, but I won't be going as I'm away then. Never mind. I saw him many years ago (about 40 I think) when he was with the Police (pronounced: PO-LEASE). If you're going to see Mr Sting in Hyde Park, be sure to visit the fence, it's only about 10 minutes walk away. Coincidentally, I met three very nice policemen today (one was a policewoman), fans of the fence, but unfortunately they had come to see me in an official capacity: A harassment complaint.

No, I haven't been harassing the fence (well I have, but it doesn't mind); I have been harassing the landlady, apparently. I don't know who the landlady is, as the policeman informed me that it's not McGlashans (they who remove everything, and deny everything). This new landlady is a mysterious extra piece in the puzzle. Either way, me putting things on the fence has been causing her undue stress.

Perhaps she shouldn't have put the sign up (you know, the one where she's pretending she's Howard De Walden Estates) in the first place. Maybe my bike was causing her stress too. I don't know.

The harassment route is quite a clever one for the fuming landlady to go down, as it's a criminal matter then, not civil like trespass would be.

The officers left after 20 minutes, they really were extremely pleasant, suggesting in the politest way that now would be as good a time as any to stop putting things on the fence.

Fencemaster wishes he had friends in the legal profession, goes into thought, worries about the fence, worries about work, worries about all the unopened brown envelopes at home...

A strangely exhausted and depressed Fencemaster dropped like a wet dog on to the sofa last night (it was raining). The lovely policemen saved the day, by being amused just the right amount (the British police really are the best in the world), but there's a lot I wish I'd said.

I did promise to remove the items on the fence now (the dirty old bike wheel and two pedals, in a nice symmetrical arrangement, forming a 'triangle of interest'). It was suggested I do this as a 'good will gesture'. If only I could find the keys. Had I thought, I'd have suggested they (whoever it is that put the sign up, no one seems to admit any responsibility, except me) take the sign down, 'as a gesture of goodwill'.

Fences aside, I'm almost looking forward to the holiday we have the last week in July. I usually dread any holiday, as I live in perpetual fear that while I'm away, wherever I'm working will find out I don't actually do much. This isn't true you know, I'm just insecure, so always restrict holidays to one week, just in case. I realize this isn't fair on Mrs F and the three junior Fencemasters, but

it's not a fair world. They have to learn that, they'll thank me for it in later life. Maybe.