星空传媒

If you remember correctly - and even if you don't, as you'll discover if you continue reading to the end of this sentence - last month I decided to do a little genealogical exploration in order to discover if my forbears suffered from the same affliction as myself; namely, that I am hated by the world.

After much toil and investigation - in the sense that I had a cup of tea and a chat to my mum - I came up with a piece of evidence so conclusive that any jury in the land would convict me for supplying irrefutable evidence, if this was a crime.

After some initial chit chat - the weather, our health and the health of various acquaintances, stock market prices - we got down to the nitty gritty. I asked my mother if there were any relations she knew of who had been dealt as cruel a hand by fate as I. She said yes.

As I found out over the course of this enthralling conversation, not only was my great grandfather on my mother's side as cursed as myself, if not more so, he was also - much to my shock - a pioneer in the field of security installation!

Security's first slogan

According to my mother, my great grandfather Larry Grayson ran one of London's earliest security firms. In those days, most people had very little need for security. The great majority didn't even have a car or a microwave. As a consequence, there wasn't much of value worth protecting in their homes, and CCTV had yet to be invented, so they couldn't even spy on their family or workmates. The situation Larry faced was difficult. How to establish a successful security business when no one needed or even cared for his services. His ingenious solution? Marketing.

Larry decided the only way to sell his services to people who found them unnecessary, and in some cases, contemptible, was to worm his way into their minds and thus into their wallets without them even knowing about it.

He invented the security slogan. Larry's fantastic slogan was: "If you can't get out, they can't get in."

He then encouraged children and dwarves to daub his slogan all around London, on every available surface, so it simply could not be avoided. A lot of the time it read: "Larry Grayson says: If you can't get out, they can't get in."

Use that hobo

Soon people began to use the phrase in conversation, unknowingly, at all manner of inappropriate times. Larry would write the slogan on pieces of paper and pin them to the backs of tramps and beggars. They became unpaid advertising hoardings, making their way slowly throughout the city. Larry knew they were working, even when they were sleeping - especially if they slept face down in the gutter.

Soon newspapers were asking about this mysterious Grayson chap, and pondering the significance of his message. Eventually, Larry shelled out for a small, text-only advertisement in the pages of The Times. It read: "If you can't get out, they can't get in. Contact Larry Grayson for all of your home and business security needs. He will make you safe. Otherwise, you will die. In all likelihood." Soon, Larry's business was inundated with work. He had arrived as a major business success story.

Interestingly, Larry's marketing may have been simply too successful. His innovative plan may have been the greatest stroke of marketing genius ever in the history of mankind, but his simple lack of intelligence in matters of practical security meant it was doomed to fail.

For instance, the reasoning behind his very effective slogan was deeply flawed. Larry's plan, quite simply, was to board up all the doors and windows of his clients' houses or places of work, making them impregnable to burglars. And in this respect, his was a tremendously effective technique.

Where it fell down, however, was the fact that his clients tended to pass away after they discovered they were unable to access food and supplies once their meagre larders had been emptied, due to the lack of exits now available in their homes. And while this wasn't initially noticeable - the 'keeping up with the Joneses' habit of neighbours was around even in those primitive days - once word got out that his security techniques were killing off Londoners at a rate second only to the legendary Black Death, business quickly dwindled.

Like an animal

According to my mother, Larry was a bear of a man, in a very literal sense. His body was covered in thick black and white hair, and he resembled nothing so much as a panda bear walking on its hind legs.

This resemblance was reinforced when he lost his business and began communicating only in a series of grunts. It also did not help that he consumed vast quantities of bamboo, eschewing any other food.

Great grandfather Larry saw out his days in London Zoo, after being mistaken for an escaped exhibit when urinating on promenading couples in Regents Park. Keepers spent years attempting to persuade him to mate with a succession of female pandas, until one day my great grandmother, a zoologist by trade, took pity on him in the most warm and human way possible.

Thank goodness for that. If she hadn't, you may not be reading this very column now.

So there you have it. Both the security industry and horrible misfortune have been proven without doubt to run in my family. I feel vindicated, particularly as some of the nastier reader comments forwarded to me have implied that I might be a bit of a 'whinger'. Not so, I think you'll agree.