Pubs flushed with awards overkill

You know that the self-congratulatory awards business has sunk as low as it can go when a gong is handed out for the quality of a pub privy. Adam Edwards pours scorn on a fad most foul

There are few industries that do not hold an annual awards beano. It is a rare vocation that does not award itself garlands or a calling that fails to salute the brilliance of itself with a tin cup and a shaken bottle of bubbly.

And the licensed trade is more laurel-filled than most. When it comes to gongs it can compete with the Windsors. It has stars for grub, medallions for wine, medals for beer, certificates for open fires and probably an ermine-draped escutcheon with a potato roundel for the quality of its prawn cocktail crisps.

Last month this decorations business reached its daft apogee when the Penderel's Oak, owned by JD Wetherspoon, won the British Toilet Association (BTA) Loo of the Year Award 2005.

If a loo is efficient, clean and fragrant, what, I wonder makes one better than another? Does the BTA give points because 'pine needle freshness' is more pleasing than 'fresh citrus'?

Are marks given because, for example, the condom machine in the Mucky Duck has more sheath varieties than the dispenser in the Dirty Dog? And, anyway, if one did win a top loo award I dread to think what the bauble would look like, which anyway would, like an actress's Oscar, end up in the loo.

After years of patronising the loos in public houses I can only think of one boozer's loos that deserve an award - those belonging to the Philharmonic Dining Rooms in Liverpool known locally as 'The Phil'.

The magnificent hostelry was built to serve the grandees attending the Philharmonic Hall concerts and its gentlemen's lavatory trumpets marble wash basins, copper taps and amber-glazed urinals. Many of the patrons of 'The Phil' are not drinkers but students of art nouveau who queue to look at, rather than partake of, its loos.

I suppose the recent BTA awards may encourage the patrons of its winning pubs to follow suit.

Which reminds me of the 19th-century politician Lord Birkenhead, who, on his daily walk to the Houses of Parliament, regularly relieved himself at the Reform Club. When the club door- man asked him if he was a member Birkenhead is reputed to have replied: 'Good Lord, is it a club too?'

Last orders for media hysteria

As the feared 24-hour drinking legislation draws nearer and the moral majority - well, the Daily Mail - begins to panic, it is worth noting what happened after Continental-style afternoon drinking was introduced in 1988.

Before legislation was passed the majority of national papers predicted that most of Britain would be dead drunk during daylight hours. Two years later a report published by the Office of Population Censuses and Surveys stated: 'It is clear that the extensions to permitted opening hours, afternoon opening and - in many parts of the country - later evening closing, have not led to a marked increase in overall alcohol consumption. All-day pub opening has not encouraged people to drink more.'

The Times, which had been very worried about the country going to the alcoholic dogs, wrote in July 1991: 'Afternoon drinking is the exception rather than the rule.' The Daily Express said: 'Fears of more drunkenness were ill-founded'. As for the Daily Mail, it said: 'Britain's longer licensing hours have not led to the national hang-over critics feared,' adding: 'Publicans are enjoying a bonanza because of substantially increased food sales'.

High price for going organic

A new blended whisky, Highland Harvest, has arrived on the market at an exorbitant £15 a bottle. The reason that the price for the 40% abv 70cl bottle is so high is that it is organic.

Organic whisky, one might conclude, is an oxymoron. Whisky is not a tree-hugger's drink. Whisky is not a jolly healthy accompaniment to macrame and lentils. Whisky is for the blues. Can you imagine Thin Lizzy singing about 'Organic Whisky in the Jar' or Tom Waits belting out 'Organic Whiskey-Man Blues'?

The point of whisky is that it kills all known germs and that includes both those from bleeding hearts and the chemical fertilisers from barley and maize used in its production.

Seasonal madness at Pimm's

Pimm's, the alcoholic fruit cup, is introducing 'Pimm's Winter' this autumn with a £2m advertising campaign. According to the senior brand manager, the brandy-based drink 'will offer something surprising'. I am certainly surprised.

I had always thought of Pimm's as a summer drink. It has been marketed aggressively as such for the last quarter of a century. A sip of the almost-amber liquid evokes Wimbledon losers, burnt chipolatas, rained-off cricket, M5 traffic jams and British Airways strikes.

Now its international owner Diageo want to throw that expensive sunny image away and spend a fortune trying to associate the drink with sprouts, mud and gum boots.

I am sure it knows what it is doing but, to those of us who are not highly-paid executives in a global company trading in more than 180 markets around the world, it makes as much sense as mulled wine in flaming June.