What should I put on the Fence?

Henry Allingham 06-June-2006
What an amusing start to a Tuesday and all thanks to Radio 4's Today programme, or 'my friends in a box' as your Fencemaster refers to anything on the radio. What name do I hear first? Mr Sting of course, who else? You really can't get away from Sting, not even on Radio 4, hence my website IN DEVELOPMENT (did you get that? I ain't done it yet) www.youcantgetawayfromsting.com he's a guest star on a new Sam and Dave album apparently, except for Dave, who is no longer with us.

I recovered from that shock quickly enough, only to be flummoxed again by an announced proposal that there should be a tax on fat people. All to be based on the body mass index (BMI) apparently. I am saying nothing.

Anyway, the absolute highlight of today, the year so far in fact, was hearing Henry Allingham. Never heard of him have you? No? Well he hasn't heard of you either, or me. However, I defy anyone not to be cheered by what I heard this morn.

A tiny bit of background first: I was bloody bastard bollocking 40 last year and I don't like it. It's very old, or so I thought. Henry Allingham is 110 today. One hundered and ten years old . I feel like I should still be going to school in short trousers all of a sudden. Thanks Mr Allingham sir, I instantly feel a whole lot better about 40. But that wasn't all.

There was a little feature on the Today programme about the old boy. Not only was he in the trenches in WWI, he was in the battle of Jutland where practically everyone was killed, except Henry. He said, when questioned for advice or wisdom his years of experience might have endowed him with: ‘accept who you are and do what you can.' Damn good advice in itself.

What would everyone want to know from 110 year old man though? What's that key question? That key question is of course:

‘What, Mr Allingham, is your secret?'

All of a sudden more exuberant than he had been so far, he shouted out his reply:

‘Cigarettes and whisky, and if that doesn't satisfy you, wild, wild women!'

I almost shed a tear of joy. Hope at last. Thanks Henry.

Oh yes, I stole it - the quote of the year from Henry Allingham - from the BBC and now use it as my mobile phone ringtone. There you go. Don't tell anyone where you found it.

NB: Some people might pose that four years is a long time between updates for a 'blog'. Not in the grand scheme of things it's not, ask Henry. And who said this was a blog anyway? *I* never did. Blogging wasn't even a term in use when I started this website, which was always first and foremost a cycling interest based website meant to promote the adoption of cycling in London among the reluctant over thirties, combined with detailed updates of an interactive performance art event-style protest in London W1 referencing the anti-cycling actions of one of London's wealthiest land owners, and an unwarranted amount of cringe worthy Fencemaster personal life detail/dirty washing was thrown in for good measure, or 'therapy' as some people call it. So there.

Oh yes, happy birthday Mr Allingham.

Great news 10-June-2002
Okay, so I haven't kept you informed too well this past few months. It's been fairly quite fenceside, but not *totally* silent. Last week alone I met a fence fan from Australia, who was in London for a week before cycling from Amsterdam to Paris (I TOLD him he could get a really cheap flight, but he wouldn't listen). Either way, I hope you make it and get back to Melbourne safely Steve.

Fence business aside, there has been a veritable spate of other 'situationist art' projects this month, and all within an easy cycle ride of our famous fence. Two spring to mind immediately and although totally unrelated, they seem to go together well. I don't know why, just by word assocation perhaps, what with one being about cows, the other involving Margaret Thatcher. Click here to check out a Website by a Thatcher FAN. He's OBSESSED with her! Mind you, I've done this site entirely about a fence, so am in no position to comment. That's not the art project I am referring to though, oh no. Your Fencemaster has a new hero, the Thatcher connection being that it's the bloke who beheaded her last week.

As a protest against global capitalism I can think of no better statement (apart from attaching things to a fence maybe) than the beheading of Thatcher. I am not, of course, condoning the random beaheading of political figures on the whim of whichever activist is wielding the axe (we'll have no willy-nilly decapitations on MY watch, soldier) it could get messy. It was a statue in the Guildhall Gallery that he knocked the block off. I would not normally champion such destructive behaviour, but likewise cannot applaud time and money spent making a statue of Margaret Thatcher.

If YOU are a Thatcher supporter too, (there are some, usually people who didn't grow up in the North of England in the 1980s) please don't bother me with your messages of horror and support for her, go to www.margaretthatcher.com, and leave a message in the guestbook. The so-called Fencemaster who left the message 'Thatcher, Thatcher, Milk Snatcher' about 100 times last year bears NO resemblance to me. It must have been another *naughtier* Fencemaster. Now who mentioned cows? Okay, let's clear up the cows.

Okay, people in New York and Switzerland are used to Walter Knapp's Cow Parade adorning their cities, but it's all new and exciting here. In case you don't know, the Cow Parade involves life-size models of cows artistically painted by various artists and placed around the city. In New York I counted about 464 (on the Website) London is, as usual, following on behind. I've seen about half a dozen in walking distance of the fence.

I did toy with the idea of 'borrowing' one, and attaching it to the fence, but it would both break important fence rules, and not be in the spirit of the Cow movement. In New York all the cows were auctioned off and raised over $1 million dollars for charity. I can't see the fence doing that, but you never know. On balance I prefer the cows to the removal of Thatcher's head. Cows were a good choice, 'everybody likes cows'. I had a nightmare last night though. In which some wires had got crossed early on in the project, and London was being peppered with hundreds of gaudily painted statues of Margaret Thatcher while Paul Kelleher was up in court for knocking a cow's head off. I was quiet cheered to wake and find the reverse was true, then I got out of bed (always a mistake) and everything quickly went downhill.

On yer bike 08-May-2002
We are over a week in to London's Mayor Ken Livingstone's 'getting London on it's bike' campaign, or whatever it's called. There're £millions flying around, some smart new maps and clearly presented initiatives ( which you can read about here) even a few short news items on television last week. This is all very well, but it's not going to get people out of their cars, off the trains (what they're doing in their cars on trains god alone knows), and on to bicycles.

It certainly won't be working with the bloke I came across last week. He was in a Mercedes, wearing a blue shirt, at the crossing on the road between Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens (you know who you are). I'd cycled across the road at the crossing, the traffic having stopped and was going slowly trying to join the cycle path on the other side so I could nip into Kensington Gardens and go past the Albert Memorial. But I was slightly distracted by the above mentioned bloke who was gesticulating at me in what could only be interpreted as a 'rude' fashion. I looked round to check there was no one else he was after, but it was me. He noticed my concern and made one final firework of a gesture to celebrate, it needed both his hands too. The traffic was only moving slowly and my day had gone very badly, so I thought I'd at least clear this up to attempt to end the day on a positive note. How? I'd ask him politely for more details, that's how.

After a short pursuit (about five car lengths, then the traffic had stopped again, of course) I caught up.
'Can I help you?' I politely inquired.
'Watch where you cross the road you ....er. Bloody cyclists.'
'But it's a crossing.' I assured him.
He became somewhat confused then, so I politely offered to discuss it in more detail. He chose to drive off in a cross fashion, which was neither big nor clever. He'd have been even more cross if he knew that at home I have a much more expensive car than him. I'm not stupid enough to drive it into London everyday though.

Is he going to get out of his car? Of course not! Not because your Fencemaster wants to point out the crossing and explain its function more clearly, and not because Ken has painted a few extra bicycles in the gutters and had some maps printed out showing people where they are. Your Fencemaster suggests the battle to get people on bicycles should begin somewhere else, not in the gap between the cars, trucks, Routemasters and the pavement.

When I get to work each morning I am sweating like a docker (I know, that should be 'swearing like a docker', but hey!) and need a shower pronto. There is a pathetic attempt at one in an office downstairs, but I can't use it as a) it's full of Penalli Pens (a long story) and b) I wouldn't like to be naked in such close proximity to people I work with. I'm in the Gym, which is almost across the road, so I dive in there and do about 12 lengths of the pool (it's very small) have a shower and get changed in relative comfort. I think anyone that cycles for more than about 15 minutes is at risk of being 'uncomfortable' all day in very hot or very wet weather without some such opportunity to get changed in the morning. Oh yes, and when you get to work, where do you park your bike? Don't get me started on THAT!

I believe it's employers that could most effectively incentivise cycling by, for instance, looking at susbsidised bikes for staff. I was offered a £1400 season ticket loan I didn't want, but was I offered any help to buy my first £350 bike? No, How much would the provision of minimal infrastructure for any cycling staff cost? A hell of a lot less than the bloke's 'C' class Mercedes cost his company no doubt. What's in this for the company? A leaner, fitter workforce with none of the serial transport delay excuses the rest of the staff will come up with when they crawl sleepily and sheepishly into the office after an hour and a half at the hands of whichever awful train company they suffer with each day. A healthier workforce with less sick days, and for those blue-shirted blokes like our friend in his dull Mercedes, well they'll have fewer cars in their way won't they? Everyone benefits.

When I started this Website I meant to prepare pages and pages of proposals, such as the above, with case studies from other towns or countries, have a smart PDF available to download (with pictures) for employees to present to the appropriate people at their workplace, and generally push the case for cycling more than I actually have. I intended a 'Bikes Mean Business' section, but I didn't get round to it. I 'm certain I could have worked jokes in somehow, I usually manage. Fencemasters quickly learn to know their place though, and my place is running this Website, not interfering in things 'Town Hall' can cock up quite effectively by itself. Sheesh, that's a bit harsh. I am sure Ken will manage to get a few people on to their bikes. I'm just cross he didn't ask me to help. You know how sensitive Fencemasters are.

What other news is there to bring you up to speed? There's the fantastic story of Rob and his Magic Box. SEE the solemn moment your Fencemaster met Rob himself (in the O'Connor Don of course). Full story of that amazing magic box soon, don't miss the fabulous CMET Team Big Orange Jelly Baby, and there's more news on the way.
Oh yes! I'm leaving the fence soon. Anyone want it?

Fencemaster 25-March-2002
Grrr. The fence lives on. There's a padlock thenewbrunette attached Christmas decorations to the fence with (at the end of 2001) and there're the smart keys, which are still there.

As Fencemaster I have been my usual bone-idle self. Only this time I have exceeded all previous records by a long chalk (a long chalk = by a good deal/by many marks. It's alluding to the game of dominoes, where scoring was traditionally done with chalk marks on the table).

There's no reason for this bone idle behaviour. None. And what's all this about me being depressed? ME? Depressed? Not on MY watch, soldier. Rumors of my impending Insolvency are completely, errr... true, but as I said below, this is a cause for celebration, not commiseration. Fencemastering brings in no money you know (and never will).

What's that I hear you say? 'Why don't you do a Mil Millington?' Grrrr. I'll pretend I didn't hear that. JEALOUS? ME? Not by a high domino score. Mil, in case you didn't know, wrote a very funny Website about his batty German girlfriend, who makes Mrs Fencemaster look like Doris Day (or Doris Mary Ann Von Kappelhoff, as she was christened. I don't know WHY she changed it). Check out the things Mil and his girlfriend argue about, but be sure and ignore the almost immediate six figure publishing deal, Guardian column and Working Title film on the way it earned him.

Me? I will still be attending to the fence long long after it has ceased to become funny or interesting. That's what happens when you get on the wrong side of a Fencemaster. I am well into a book too, but not one about the fence. That would be *easy*.

There's another issue coming up that I have managed to turn into a Website too. I am even MORE cross about it than I was about the sign on our fence here, I just have to make sure it's as entertaining for everyone else. Awww, aren't Fencemasters considerate?

Be sure and pop by for a pint soon. Go on, you know you want to.

Faux Pas 18-February-2002
Silly Fencemaster. It seemed like such a good idea at the time too (hmmm, I must do some work on www.agoodideaatthetime.co.uk), but the launch last week of www.bernardmanning.com didn't go exactly as expected.

Why did I bother? Well, in case you don't know Bernard Manning is a 'working man's comedian', from Northern England. For some bizarre reason it occurred to your Fencemaster to purchase www.bernardmanning.com a few years ago (being drunk in charge of a computer should be an imprisonable offence, at least result in a few penalty points, maybe Internet access being withdrawn for six months too).

Bernard Manning is, apparently, not very nice. There's your stupid Fencemaster just thinking he was an old fashioned comedian. Why did I bother launching the site then? Naughty Madonna has hired him for her other-half's birthday bash (she'll probably regret it) so as even the holding page came fourth in a Google search, I thought I'd better stick up some content in case a lot of Madonna fans were trying to find out who he was via the magic of the Internet.

I was moderately pleased with the site, using it to promote my 'Bernard Manning is really Rudolph Hess' theory, running a little campaign to get Manchester Airport renamed Manchester Bernard Manning Airport (I was accused of nicking that idea of an 'alternative comedian', grrr...) I even wrote 1200 words of RUBBISH comparing Bernard Manning with Buddy Rich (there ARE similarities, honest). There was a message board too, and there came the trouble.

After reading a dozen of the most unpleasant messages, I realized that this was not one of my better ideas, abandoned the content, and redirected bernardmanning.com to a more appropriate site (I am waiting to hear from the site I redirected to with any more appropriate suggestions). Silly, stupid Fencemaster. I should have been working on THIS site anyway (or at least just WORKING).

I did try and get rid of bernardmanning.com a year or so ago after I noted an unscrupulous 'domain sitter' was trying to sell bernardmanning.co.uk (a SUPERB investment, he says. HA!) I thus wrote to Bernard and offered him bernardmanning.com free. I made it quite clear that I didn't want any money. No reply was forthcoming. I tried a few Lad's mags too, seeing if they wanted to present it to Bernard and get a few choice (probably unprintable) words about the Internet from Bernard, but again, no replies. I can't give it away. If anyone has any better ideas (although I think the use it's put to now is very good) let me know.

Your naughty Fencemaster hereby promises not to fanny about wasting time on other stupid dot com ideas again (I might have had my fingers crossed though).

Birthday 05-February-2002
One year ago today I got to work after cycling 13 miles to find that legendary sign had been thoughtfully mounted on the fence (by a mysterious man in a white van, I would discover many months later). I was only cross about this because whoever chose to decide to stop me locking my bike to this short, dull fence chose a day when all the trains were 'on strike', so it was thus almost impossible for the better part of 8 million people to get to work. The rest is history. You can read the whole story here, see the first things that went on the fence here, and read the first entries in the Fencemaster diaries here.

This Website came along in June of 2001. Thanks (A big Fencemaster shout goes out to...) everyone who has sent in suggestions, e-mailed support, and come along from all over the world to attach things to the fence themselves. It would, of course, not be much of a Website without everyone's contributions. Anyway, it's not the anniversary of the Website, but the entire fence/bicycle parking issue. The sign is still 'disappeared' (it was stolen), there's a solitary padlock on the fence, and someone painted the spikes silver. Otherwise it's just any old fence. There's probably a message to be learned from all the attention this dull little group of railings has received over the past year. I'll be beggared if I know what it is. I fancy something broad that can be applied to many issues in life, such as: 'Come across some trivial bureaucracy? Attach an ironing board to it.'

Maybe not.

Insolvent 31-January-2002
My bike is fixed and thus has the full compliment of its 27 gears working, which makes my life a lot easier. Well, the getting to work and getting home parts of it anyway.

It's coming up to the first anniversary of the sign appearing on the fence (Fencemaster makes a mental note to order a cake with an appropriate message iced on to it to, errr… attach to the fence I suppose). If you are full of questions about the fence, such as 'why do you bother? Why don't you knock it on the head? You might find the answer here, or here. If you don't, e-mail me.

If you want to put something on the fence yourself, go right ahead. Take a picture if you can, but it doesn't matter if you can't. As Ralph Taylor from San Fransisco said:
'The point is that we make a stand for cyclists everywhere who need to lock their bicycles safely when away from home.' Wise words that cheered me in a week of gloom.

As you might know, your Fencemaster is facing a bit of a financial crisis and it's now becoming official. To celebrate, I am launching a new range of casual clothing for men (I suppose I shouldn't rule women out at this stage) called 'Insolvent'. However, as I don't design clothes my method involves buying something smart, but a bit mundane (Debenhams here we come) and getting the word 'Insolvent' screen printed on to it in big, stylish yellow letters. Here are some early drafts of the logotype, along with drafts for the logo for the Fencemaster range of leisurewear. No, I am not going to start selling T-Shirts. I'll probably get a few made and give 'em away to worthy causes. We'll be having no dot com commercialism on MY watch, soldier. OH no.

I really am going ahead with 'Insolvent' clothing though, it's not a bizarre joke. You might laugh now, but you'll see. There I'll be in the O'Connor Don one day, and a buyer for an international chain of menswear shops will come over and say 'Hey guy, where'd you get that jacket? What? You did? Cool - can you get me 20,000 like it by April?'

That's how it works isn't it? ISN'T IT?

Jehovah 24-January-2002
Hey! I was almost cheered up the other day by reading the Daily Mail! Can you imagine that? It usually makes me strangely depressed. This story (one I read in the Daily Mail) involves Jehovah's Witnesses so is obviously highly amusing from the off. 'Jehovah's Witness'. That's all you have to say to me to get me to roll about on the floor in hysterics.

Am I mocking a religion that purports to have 6 million followers? ME? I don't think so. I have *personal* reasons for guffawing when anyone gets even as far as saying 'Jehovah' (NOTHING to do with the Life of Brian) and reading this story didn't help. Just in case you don't have a clue what I am talking about, in the UK Jehovah's Witnesses generally make a nuisance of themselves knocking on your door at all hours of the day and night, plying you with free magazines, talking to you about 'spiritual matters', and generally trying as hard as possible to recruit you to their slightly worrying religion.

This woman, who we shall call Jane White (because that's what the Daily Mail called her), was up to here (Fencemaster raises right paw to chin level) with JWs attempting to spread the word by knocking on her door time after time, being insistent and persistent in a friendly way I am sure, but no less annoying and intrusive for it. What did she do? Did she just put up with it and let them badger her time after time? NO! (heh heh) She turned the tables smartly, went up to their 'Kingdom Hall' at 10 on a Sunday morning and knocked smartly on THEIR door. And lo! They were in the middle of something; a service. She had to knock several times before someone came, and they weren't very pleased when they did you know.

Jane had some handy free magazines for them, but no, they were just not interested in her message. They asked her politely to leave, but Jane thought they should be more 'spiritually aware', and brought up the subject of the tragic death of Kurt Cobain. The JWs were even less impressed, and promptly called the police. At this point I like to imagine that the same three police officers who came to see me about the fluffy tiger attached to the fence were involved. However this is highly unlikely. The story ended happily with no arrests, Jane and the JWs promising not to bother each other.

Well done Jane. I'll attach a copy of 'Watchtower' magazine to the fence as soon as I can get one. It's 8:00 am right now, so there'll probably be a JW at the door anytime in the next hour. Oh dear, I do hope I am not going to get in trouble for being disrespectful. I might have mentioned the Amish once, but otherwise the joke has been firmly on me throughout this website. I am NOT going to have a pop at the Shakers next, OH no (they started of in Manchester, so deserve a break). They are lovely people who make marvelous things, and just happen to shake a bit from time to time.

Grrrr 22-January-2002
At this point I would like to say how well 2002 is going as a year, but it's not.
It's simply not being all it was cracked up to be. It's being nothing but a big BIG disappointment so far. What's that you say? 'It's only January, give it a chance' Ha! You only get one chance to make a good first impression, and 2002 has failed to make an impression that's been anything but bad so far.

Your Fencemaster is, of course, talking from his own personal perspective, which is somewhat limited as I only see the world and its many issues, trials and tribulations, in a simplistic Fencemaster way. For instance, when I need to address a problem I try to break it down into its component parts, and grade each aspect according to one of these three, if you will, 'classes':

1) Can I attach anything to it?
2) Can I attach it to the fence?
3) Can I do a Website about it?

Invariably for most of the outstanding issues in your Fencemaster's life right now, the answer to each of these questions is 'no', which somewhat hampers my ability to move forward and overcome whatever it is that's the problem. When that happens I usually revert to my pre-Fencemaster way of dealing with such things, and elect to summarily ignore whatever the issue is, hoping it gets bored and goes away ('There. See how you like that Mr Overdraft. How do you like being IGNORED eh? EH??')

This method works surprisingly well, and is not to be haughtily sniffed at, especially by you lot who deal with things in a grown-up and sensible manner. Grrrr. I wish I could do things sensibly, but I can't. I blame the parents, I don't know which parents, how about I start with my own? Nah... I take full Fencemasterly responsibility for my own actions at all times, well, most times. I blame no one except myself. Neither do I hold a grudge against the Nat West Bank, the Halifax Building Society, or the Bank of Scotland for, in each case, refusing to give me free reign with the bank's money ('Remember Mr Fencemaster, it's YOU that banks with US, not the other way round'.)

Yes, yes. I will indeed attempt to 'cheer up a bit'. Of course my ship will come in one day (I'll probably be at the airport), and there'll soon be a light at the end of the tunnel (an oncoming train). At least until then I have Fencemastering as therapy.

There's one solitary padlock on the fence today, the one used to lock the Christmas star on. That and the naughtily-painted spikes (a flagrant rule-breaker) are the only things that denote it as the special fence it is. Hmmm. I'll have to do something about that soon...

This is the year that will be 14-January-2002
Blimey. What's this 'Fencemastering' all about? I can hardly remember. Christmas and it's associated paraphernalia put a welcome full stop to the end of 2001, a frankly rubbish year, and it's only now (practically the middle of January) that I am beginning to realise that it's just last year that's finished, not life as we know it, Jim.

I have thus wasted a week at work by turning up each day and doing goodness knows what until it was time to go home (anything but work). Mind you, I've been doing that every day for over two years now and nobody has noticed. Fencemastering came along as a welcome distraction from the stress of avoiding work almost a year ago, when there was that February transport strike. Not long after that it seemed like a good idea to attach other things to the fence, the website (which I have not yet attached to the fence) falling into place in June of 2001.

Here, to start what is most certainly going to be a fantastic year for fences everywhere, are the answers to a few points regularly raised by visitors to www.whatshouldiputonthefence.com:

Hey Fencey, why haven't you put anything on the fence for a while?

I do not tend to put things on the fence again myself as I was rather politely threatened with further action by three police officers who were pursuing a 'Harassment' complaint by some landlady or other (NOT McGlashans and NOT Howard De Walden Estates). This situation might change if:

a) I get bored.
b) Miraculously become less of a coward.
c) Have a series of excellent creative and amusing ideas backed up by the discovery a box of angle grinder-proof locks behind a hedge somewhere.

Look, why don't you just knock it on the head, stop it, leave it alone now?

I shall continue to run this website and post pictures of what other people attach to the fence, add exciting news stories from my mundane life, and develop other highly entertaining areas for people to wander in and out of as they see fit. As far as letting the whole fence/bicycle parking issue rest, well, YOU can leave any trivial issues in your life behind if you want, but your terrier-like Fencemaster shall persist annoyingly to tell everyone about his, like a 6'3 dot com version of the Duracell Bunny. The important issues in my life I'll be continuing to ignore and hope they go away.

Why haven't you bothered to write any updates for ages?

I am doing my best, which as usual, fails to be good enough. Please don't forget that this whole project is a one-man band, and I have to fit it in around cycling 28 miles a day, helping run a company, and ensuring my three horrid children are denied all the chances I had when I was growing up. Not to mention creating a confusing paper trail between a long list of unsecured lenders and Mrs Fencemaster, which will hopefully see various banks and credit card companies 'writing off' large portions of outstanding debt rather than pursuing her to wherever I virtually relocate her. Is that illegal? Surely not.

NB.
I haven't made any money out of this site, and it's nearly been 'cut off' twice when the vast amount it costs to host each month (about £8.00) hasn't quite made it to the hosting company. Did you know your Fencemaster was that incompetent? DID YOU?

Can you make the suggestions pages searchable?

No, I am not clever enough ('Awwww, aren't you stupid'). However, I have designed a system I want to instigate using JSP and have a load of top quality programmers lined up to implement it. I would have to pay them though, see the above paragraph.

Oh what a hard luck story, are you after sympathy now?

Yeah yeah. Of course I want sympathy. Preferably delivered in a bottle/pint glass.

You are always going on about drinking. Why do you drink so much?

*Competition time!* (Again Ð I am rubbish at running competitions Ð sorry)

Okay, here are three answers to the above question. Only one is by your Fencemaster. See if you can tell me who said what. There'll be a small, pathetic prize mailed to the first correct answer out of the hat on February 5th, the first anniversary of the fence issue:

a) Because I'm an alcoholic
b) So I can live with my fellow man
c) It's nice to have a hobby

Mail me your answer, or a humorous alternative quote about drinking too much to add to the three above (correctly attributed please) thus annoyingly invalidating the entry of anyone who has already responded.

Welcome to 2002

Your loving Fencemaster

About time 17-December-2001
Hey! Thanks to 'A famous historian', who cleverly pointed out that this website is around the time of its semi-anniversary. It's six months old! I didn't celebrate especially, as I generally celebrate something or other everyday anyway (by cracking open a few bottles of Pinto Grigio). And what a seasonal time of year to reach such an insignificant milestone. Speaking of time, I added a worldfencetimeclock this morning. There's a link on the Messages page, or click here.

We have all done well, there have been many great suggestions (over 3000, not all are on the Suggestions pages), these are still coming in with only yesterday the sensible 'leave space for the Turner Prize you deserve', and the slightly dodgey 'smelly fish in a can' (fish heads, surely).

I have had some of the most hysterically funny e-mails that have ever been written, made lots of new friends, almost lost my job, run out of money (hang on, don't get negative Fencemaster), errr... received only mild abuse on very few occasions (better), had a lot of 'press' in newspapers, radio, and TV all over the world (don't go on about it FM), circa 3 million hits (oh shut up now for crying out loud), and most importantly (of course) have highlighted the plight of the urban cyclist, which certainly does not seem to be unique to London.

I am on the train this week as I have a rotten cold, a few evening engagements, my bike is still broke, I am writing while sat on the train. I hope this is okay with everyone.

Lots of people have now put things on the fence themselves, taken pictures, and sent them in. I am endeavoring to add these as quickly as I can, but being a bone-idle work shy fop, you'll have to be patient. Over the six months news has come in of other fencestallations, notably the New Zealand 'shoe fence'.

Thanks once again for all your help and support this year and in this first six months of whatshouldiputonthefence.com

Let's move forward into 2002 with a whole new agenda for the fence and fences everywhere. No, I haven't a clue what. I shall give it some thought. Ponder on it, if you will.

Bike 06-December-2001
I gave fixing my bike a little bit of concentrated effort last night, what with only 3 of the potential 27 gears working. As a result of my efforts now only 2 are with us. I believe this to be a superior arrangement, as it leaves your Fencemaster to concentrate on the task of going in a reasonably straight line, something one of my little boys seems more capable of than me. Grrrr.

I am very cross about that, VERY cross. I have done everything in my power to stop him from taking to two wheels for the full extent of the eight years he's been around. It was easy, all I had to do was not buy him a bike (I couldn't pull the Amish routine this time). When questioned about it I merely feigned deafness, which isn't too hard as anyone that has ever tried to actually speak to your deaf-as-a-post old Fencemaster will testify.

He usurped me anyway and did a deal with an older boy accross the road. Gone are a load of useless Playstation games (the Playstation broke, I am trying to fix it though) the older boy has a functioning Playstation and is thus delighted to get rid of his outgrown bike in exchange for the opportunity to run, jump, shoot, and swim in the guise of a saucy young brunette from, errr... Wimbledon. Still, at least all that fighting will help bring out his feminine side.

I got him back by refusing to teach him to ride it, there was obviously no question of Mrs F stepping in there. She is far too tall for cycling, so she tells me anyway (it's a 'centre of gravity issue' apparently). I don't know how he did actually learn, he just cycled toward me down the road as I arrived home one afternoon. I was squeezing my pointlessly large and expensive car backwards down the cul de sac we live at the end of, trying for the speed record. I only just spotted him in time. This was, of course, the reason I had wanted this particular right of passage (cycling) denied him in the first place.

From an early age (about two I think) children just seem to find another way they can potentially be killed or injured on a daily basis. They seek them out