Eccentric landlords.

[aleandhearty]

I'm sure we've all met a few over the years, with various foibles and peccadilloes. For example, one guy I knew used to have the volume control and a reject button for the pub's jukebox behind the bar. If someone chose a track he really didn't like, he'd turn the volume right down, shout 'Cab for Mr.X' and reject the disc!

However, he pales into insignificance compared to the semi-mythical 'Trevor' of the now closed Bowling Green in Otley. (Possibly a future JDW). Quite simply, it's the most bizarre pub I've ever been in. Last time I was there last orders were sounded on a hand wound siren. The table top was a coffin lid. Have a look at the interview with local writer and presenter Ian Clayton. Trevor's got more outfits than Mr. Benn!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LukVPxvE_7g

Any others?

[RogerB]

I've heard that the landlord at the Old Mill in Plumstead sounds the last orders on a drum kit. The nutty Irish chap the Churchill Arms in Kensington (I think his name was (and hopefully still is) Gerry), used to use an old squeezy style car hooter.

I had the pleasure of being taken on a guided tour of the Yew Tree at Cauldon waterhouses near Stke http://www.pubsgalore.co.uk/pubs/68013/ by the landlord Alan, a serial hoarder who has stocked his pub from floor to ceiling with antiques and junk. More info here..
http://www.thisisstaffordshire.co.uk...l/article.html

[aleandhearty]

I had the pleasure of being taken on a guided tour of the Yew Tree at Cauldon waterhouses near Stke

Looks fantastic! Duly noted for a visit someday.

[RogerB]

Looks fantastic! Duly noted for a visit someday.

Well make sure you take some photos! I wish I had.

[trainman]

I once had the pleasure of visiting the Red Lion in Stodmarsh & meeting Robert Whigham who was already outside a few sharpeners by early afternoon. He featured on the tv programme 'The Red Lion', unfortunately truncated to one episode when I thought much more could have been made of the topic - how could the Snargate version not feature?

Anyway, Robert was a delight, as was his pub - memorable, also, for having ducks & chickens wandering in & out from the garden!

http://www.dailystar.co.uk/posts/view/105264

[RogerB]

I've been to the Red Lion at Stodmarsh (there are some great walks across the RSPB reserve next door) and do recall the Landlord but didn't remember anything unusual regarding his character. Great pub though. Haven't been there for a couple of years so if the weather is OK on Monday I may even suggest to Mrs B that she needs a bit of excercise.

[trainman]

I may even suggest to Mrs B that she needs a bit of excercise.

I hope you brush up that terminology RB, otherwise I envisage an epic fail crashing into your mission...

[oldboots]

An interesting idea for a thread, I'm surprised there hasn't been more response, either they don't make landlords like they used to or people need time to consider their wealth of experiences.

The question brought back a lot of memories of some strange characters I've come across over the years, some were inspiring men, some were total pratts, while most were ordinary men (mostly, there's been a few landladys as well) who had a love of the limelight or occasional flashes of lunacy.

The first memorable landlord I came across, let's call him “Joe” although he's been dead for years, was an ex-Chief Petty Officer who gave me my first taste of the real Pusser's Rum (proper RN stuff from Gib') with the words “ a drop of this and you'll fight the Bismark, blue” (blue or blue-boy being his nickname for me), he was right about fighting the Bismark of course. Many a time we would have a lock-in during the good old days when a lock-in was a rare privilege, until Joe would turn a bit nasty and throw everyone out the pub because of some perceived slight or another. Most regulars had been banned from the pub for “arguing with the landlord” at one time or another:- actually you weren't a proper regular until you'd been banned, usually for correcting some factual mistake in one of Joe's sermons or World War II stories. His usual tactic was to wander round the pub collecting glasses or suchlike, catch the gist of the conversation then put you right about it. The only subject no-one would ever gainsay him about was D-Day as he had actually been there as a 21 year old. He banned anyone who looked like a gypsy as soon as they walked through the door, and he once claimed a Lebanese bloke “looked Jewish”. He was, however, a superb keeper of ale, except sometimes on the day before the dray arrived when he tried to get rid of what ever old rubbish was hanging about rather than claim ullage on it, a local sign was an empty bottle in a nominated place to indicate to other regulars not to drink the draught ale – Joe never worked this one out; he used to say “I don't know what's up today everyone's drinking bottles or Guinness”. His finest hour was perhaps threatening to place a young copper across his knee, then later that night being arrested for being Drunk and Disorderly outside his own pub and then being fully exonerated at court on this charge on the testimony of several senior doctors and surgeons who testified to his sobriety; coincidentaly they just happened to be regulars of the pub. The celebratory crate of champagne had been in the pub cellar for a while. Joe died in the pub and later landlords have described seeing some old bloke with an extra large whisky in hand lurking in corners.

Around the same time there was another landlord, Golfing Barry, who's idea of announcing last orders was to release two large Alsatians* into the bar. (*note for younger readers an Alsatian is the old name for a “German Shepherd dog", a euphemism for a large scary dog that got a bad press, a bit like "Sellafield" or Windscale after it poisoned most of Cumberland in 1957, oh and Cumbria is a euphemism for Cumberland = a place poisoned by radioactivity in 1957). His wife, Golfing Barry's that is, was noted for unusual sexual practises but I won't go into that on a family website.

The guv'nor of the Village in Salisbury was noted for using a VERY LOUD train horn to call last orders. Another eccentric was Dolphin Doug who's claim to fame was insulting customers – people would actually come from miles around to be insulted by Doug, these days they'd have a T Shirt:- “I've been insulted by Doug at the Dolphin”.

Then there was “Derek” a short but very hard, ex paratrooper who served at Suez, ex professional footballer, ex professional cricketer, ex lumberjack, you name it he'd really done it and he didn't take any nonsense from anyone and you did not argue with him - ever, - funny thing is, it was standing room only at his funeral because practically everyone who ever knew him respected him and liked him.

Now, the point is all this was 20-30 years ago, I've only come across one or two real “characters” in the last few years, so are eccentric landlords a dying, or even a dead, breed?

[Oggwyn Trench]

Theres a couple of pubs round here still known to locals by the old landlords names rather than the pub names so the Bachus in Wellington is Dickie Parks and the Sutherland Arms in Muxton is Smokey Joes , the Barley Mow in Wellington is McManus`s an ex Irish light heavywheight boxing champion , the pub was home to a mixture of the local Irish , Travelling and other people who wernt welcome anywhere else in town , but there was never any trouble as everyone had complete respect for him

[RogerB]

I once had the pleasure of visiting the Red Lion in Stodmarsh & meeting Robert Whigham who was already outside a few sharpeners by early afternoon. He featured on the tv programme 'The Red Lion', unfortunately truncated to one episode when I thought much more could have been made of the topic - how could the Snargate version not feature?

Anyway, Robert was a delight, as was his pub - memorable, also, for having ducks & chickens wandering in & out from the garden!

http://www.dailystar.co.uk/posts/view/105264

I was in there this afternoon after a stroll across the marshes to Upstreet and back. I think he was already up to his day's beer quota. A quintessentially eccentric English gentleman and totally mad to boot. The last comment in he visitors book read "Great pub. The landlord called me a bitch. I didn't know he knew me so well". Long live the Red Lion!