'It has to be said' – A Memoir of Glenn Ashcroft, 1968-2023

A rare cartoon of Glenn, in Newcastle United shirt, circa 2000

Once again, I find myself writing a tribute to an old friend who has passed away... 

I met Glenn when I went to work for a Birmingham advertising agency in 1998. Amazingly, he’d been living about a hundred yards from my house for several years without our paths ever having crossed. I got at once that he shared the same ironic sense of humour as myself: within hours of my starting in the job, the conversation had turned to On the Buses – then being repeated daily on satellite TV – and from there to other neglected corners of pop culture, usually of the ‘so bad it’s good’ variety. Within a week, we were summoned to the boardroom by one of the directors – a candidate for angriest man in the universe – and told we were ‘laughing too much’. Because one isn’t supposed to have fun at work, right? It was like On the Buses coming true – he was Blakey, and we were Stan and Jack (don’t ask me which was which).

From that moment on, we formed a united front against the management, privately taking the proverbial at every possible moment. Our impressions of Angry Man’s co-director – let’s call him Posh Buffoon – became legendary, as did our cartoons. At Christmas that year, I gave Glenn the one and only copy of the ‘Steve Harland Annual’… Steve was our mild mannered head of studio, who was constantly put upon by Angry Man. He never saw our cartoons of him: I’m not sure what he would have thought of being turned into a creation worthy of The Dandy. In return, Glenn gave me a rubber effigy of Angry Man that he’d customised from an executive toy. It came in its own special box that Glenn created himself (and printed out on the company’s time).

Company director 'Angry Man' looks on as Steve Harland's mac explodes... cover illustration from the 'Steve Harland Annual 2000' (1999)

Glenn and myself were supposed to be a creative team, but the only ideas we were ever allowed to work on were those handed down to us by Angry Man and Posh Buffoon… a computer monitor with duck’s feet? That actually happened, and provided more ammunition for our satirical mickey taking. By 1999 we were commuting to Leamington, a drive of over an hour every day. Without Glenn to share the driving, it just wouldn’t have been tolerable. For most of the drive, we conversed in the voice of Posh Buffoon, satirising his attitudes towards the ‘proles’ and ‘pond life’ whom he saw everywhere: basically, everyone below his rung on the social ladder. That level of insanity kept us sane in a job that never rose above the level of predictable drudge. When, at last, I was deemed ‘surplus to requirements’, the only thing I missed about my ex-career was Glenn. He very thoughtfully copied the folder of salacious material I kept on my work computer, and gave it to me on a CD, deleting the orginal before it could fall into the wrong hands.

We stayed in touch even after I’d moved away to Sheffield: the quirky gifts and cranky cards kept on coming. I still have them to this day. So, Glenn, the final word (in the voice and favourite catchphrase of ‘Posh’…) “It has to be said… you were one of the best.”

Glenn, in leather jacket, appears in the final frame of this satirical office cartoon (1999)