Humph

When I die I will not, to adapt a phrase from cricket, trouble the typesetters. "Reg Pither has died," the obituary will simply read.
Humphrey Lyttleton, on the other hand, has given printers the length and breadth of this land more of a workout. You see, Humph rolled a seven last night. "Trumpeter, bandleader, calligrapher, cartoonist, writer, journalist, witticist and broadcaster Humphrey Lyttleton has died aged 86," was the intro in just one report today.

My most illustrious relative was my paternal grandfather who was mayor of Mansfield. Impressed, huh? I didn't think so. Humphrey Richard Adeane Lyttleton, on the other hand, was a cousin of the 10th Viscount Cobham and a great-nephew of the politician and sportsman Alfred Lyttleton - the first man to represent England at both football and cricket.
Humph was schooled at Eton where, inspired by Louis Armstrong (not a fellow pupil), he developed his love for jazz and the trumpet in particular. His first job was surprisingly in a steel works in Port Talbot, Wales, which, despite his aristocratic roots, no doubt had the greatest influence on his character, which he described as "romantic Socialist" - a lovely phrase which, with the insertion of the words "angry" and "comedic", I would like to think sums me up. He saw action in the Second World War at Salerno in Italy with, predictably enough bearing in mind his upbringing, the Grenadier Guards and went on to be a cartoonist with the Daily Mail before establishing his reputation as an excellent jazz musician and band leader.

Jazz will no doubt today account for the bulk of the obituaries but I have to say I am not a devotee of the genre. Jazz to me is much like a nuclear weapon. I can admire and fully appreciate the complexity, immense skill and hard work involved in its creation - I'm just not a big fan of the end product.

No, my love of Humph, like millions of you out there, was fostered by his chairmanship of the Radio 4 comedy panel game "I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue".
I began listening to it as a 12-year-old when he first hosted it back in 1972 - and I have been a huge fan ever since. I have no doubt the show will continue with someone else in the chair but it just won't be the same so I shall refer to it from now on in the past tense. Like my other radio favourite Round The Horne, the comedy on I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue was as good as it gets. Not only was it often exceedingly clever, despite being ad-lib and on-the-spot, it was also sprinkled liberally with those kingpins of lots of great British comedy - double entendres, puns and sarcasm. The Carry On films and almost everything involving Kenneth Williams were built around much the same but neither of them was as intelligent or came as near to the knuckle as Humph. His double entendres particularly, when simply decoded, were positively obscene! Those little asides about the mythical Samantha, the show's supposed scorer, used to truly make me blush in front of my mother while listening to the radio on a Sunday.

"Samantha has to nip out again to see an elderly lord who regularly complains to Radio 4 about their parliamentary coverage. She says she thinks he's even going to start getting a little hard on Today In Parliament." (N.B. For non-British readers, Today is a news and current affairs programme aired each morning on Radio 4.)

"Samantha has to nip off to the National Opera where she's been giving private tuition to the singers. Having seen what she did to the baritone, the director is keen to see what she might do for a tenor."

"Samantha tells me that she has to nip off to a special Welsh Conservative Association dinner for their most senior MP, whose name is said to be almost impossible to pronounce. She's certainly found the longest standing Welsh member a bit of a mouthful."

"Samantha tells me she has to pop out now as she does a few chores for an elderly gentleman who lives nearby. She shows him how to use the washing machine and then goes out to prune his fruit trees. Later he'll be hanging out his pyjamas as he watches her beaver away up the ladder."

"After tasting the meat pies, Samantha said she liked Mr Dewhurst’s beef in ale, although she preferred his tongue in cider."

"Samantha has to go now as she’s off to meet her Italian gentleman friend who’s taking her out for an ice-cream. She says she likes to spend the evening licking the nuts off a large Neapolitan."

Etc, etc, etc.

There was also ardent letter writer "Mrs Trellis, of North Wales":

"A Mrs Trellis of North Wales has written in to complain that the show has 'an enormous fistful of rampant innuendo rammed into every crack', but only a truly filthy-minded person would think such a thing."

"Dear Mr Titchmarsh, This morning I went out to dig up some dandelions and a giant hogweed on my lawn. The filthy beast! Yours faithfully, Mrs Trellis."

"Dear Mrs McCartney, My, what a terrible mess. You must be kicking yourself."

"Dear Rolf, They say a dog isn't just for Christmas. How true. You can use it for sandwiches all through January."

Etc, etc, etc.

Then, of course, there was the regular game "Mornington Crescent". Trying to explain this - and why it is funny - to anyone outside Britain would be impossible, so I won't. Just cut and paste the following (sorry, I can't do links): www.youtube.com/watch?v=KjH70FeZoPQ&feature=related

To save wasting more minutes of our lives, why not also try the following clips?

If you're American, then why not start with this example of "I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue for Colonials"? www.youtube.com/watch?v=aRFzVdvNQXo&feature=related

Then move on to:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=tV0BxHqS48Y&feature=related

www.youtube.com/watch?v=7NNiJBmjL3E

www.youtube.com/watch?v=9uzbOgsP-VM&feature=related

www.youtube.com/watch?v=7n-A7sEYi8A&feature=related

God bless Humph. Grantham shall not have him.