He used to sell football programmes for threepence each. Today he’s top-hatted, swank uniformed with a broad welcoming smile for the passing Princes Street throng.
David Brown’s the long-service doorman at Jenners, in his ninth year there and while he freely admits he’s a Jambo, he’s telling me he once had the hots for Hibs.
“My abiding memory is seeing Hearts with the Scottish Cup in this street in 1956, of seeing Freddy Glidden along with Conn, Bauld and Wardhaugh emerge from the Charlotte Room reception at the West End with the trophy, onto the parade coach.
“I was 15 then and I sold programmes at Tynecastle and at Easter Road. On reflection I was spoiled because one week I’d see the great Hearts side, the next I’d be watching Smith, Johnstone, Reilly , Turnbull and Ormond on the other side of town.
“We’d always sell out of programmes in good time to go into the ground and see the games. I was privileged really.’’
David, 73, schooled at Broughton Secondary. Next year will be his tenth on the steps at Jenners. ‘‘I’ve already seen trams running on Princes Street but I reckon threequarters of our customers come by bus. Only wish I was selling football programmes now. It’s not threepence in old money, it’s three quid.”
Roar of voices
Rory Bremner’s profile these days is understandably low. There’s a critical shortage of characters to caricature, facially and personality-wise.
What Rory might consider are two distinctive voices from BBC telly, Robert Peston and Emma Simpson. Voices so irksome you’d cheerfully disembowel them. That bad.