In May, I had a hunch that Norman Lamont would make a subsequent pile in the City and by September it had been announced that he was joining the Board of N M Rothchild.
The line about Lamont buying stuff in Threshers was based on a big news story a few months before alleging that Lamont bought cheap champagne and cigarettes in The Praed Street branch of Threshers on an over the limit credit card; a story that it seems was partially fabricated – click link for The Independent factual account.
Soon after, Lamont must have moved even closer to my W2 residence, as I went through a phase of seeing him on the main strip of Notting Hill Gate, shuffling along in his inimitable manner. We even had a branch of Threshers along there at the time, which added to my fun at the sightings. But I never saw him go in to Threshers. On that N M Rothchild stipend, I suspect that Norman was buying more expensive booze than the Threshers kind and that his credit limit was, by then, more manageable/much bigger.
In truth I prefer the simplicity of the May 1993 original version, but I do recall the cast making hay with the “children and teacher” setting of this N M Rothchild version of the song:
♬ NORMAN THE CHANCELLOR – N M ROTHCHILD VERSION ♬
(To the Tune of “Nellie The Elephant”)
TEACHER:Gather round children. I’m going to tell you a story about a nasty grey man who made your mummies and daddies all very poor. And who made himself very very rich.
One grey day,
A cabinet shuffle came;
The people said they were badly lead,
And Norman got the blame.
Some may say,
Lamont is a merchant banker; (children giggle, TEACHER: settle down children)
So Norman smiled, joined N M Rothchild,
And called Major to say…… “thank ya”. (perhaps children mouth “wanker”)
Oh, Norman the Chancellor left the bunch,
And said goodbye to John’s circus;
Since the pound had gone bumpety bump, bump, bump, bump.
Norman the Chancellor did some lunch,
And said hello to the city;
He’ll get rich in the slumpety slump, slump, slump, slump.
Directorships were calling far far away,
He stopped and bought,
His cigars and port,
In a Threshers on the way.
So, Norman it’s evident had a hunch,
To make himself pots of money,
When he screwed up the country’s account,
Count, cunt, cunt.