Conviviality & Charity, Mostly In Real Life, 20 to 25 September 2021

UK society seems to be opening up, tentatively. Even the manically-busy Noddyland spider appears to be back in action at full pelt, having gone strangely dormant on us through the pandemic. Hence the evening and weekend slots seem to be filling up again.

20 September 2021

Monday evening, we had a very enjoyable, convivial dinner at Dominic and Pamela’s place. We hadn’t spent time with the pair of them since the Ireland test match a couple of years ago.

Another couple, Sally & Barry, were there; bridge friends. Most of the conversation was about other matters; crime and punishment came into it a fair bit as both Pamela and Barry were criminal barristers in their time.

Dominic prepared a superb meal of tricolore salad, duck ragu with pappardelle…

Ivan Vighetto, CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons

…and a very tempting tart for afters.

It was a very enjoyable evening.

21 September 2021

Tuesday evening was the only virtual event of the week. The City Giving Day Quiz Night. Why anyone picks me for quiz teams is a bit of a mystery; I’m not good at retaining “quiz-type facts” and tend to sound uncertain about stuff I know about, while convincing about my wildest guesses. I also lose concentration easily during quizzes.

Photo-bombing my own screen shot – top row, centre

Anyway, it was for charity and the round depicted, the music round, was a perfect 10 for the Z/Yen team, which we had named FS Club 7; an ideal name for a six-person team, we felt.

In the end we were only three points off the top slot, so we felt good about ourselves without virtually-returning victorious.

It was about as much fun as on-line quizzing can be. This event is actually a convivial thing, when face-to-face, so here’s hoping that next year it will be in-person.

22 September 2021

A very exciting occasion as FoodCycle Marylebone opened its doors again, 18 months on, to welcome people for communal meals. Janie and I have been involved for most of the 18 months in-between, delivering food for most of the lockdown period and latterly helping with a cook & collect takeaway service these past few months.

The switch to community dining within Covid protocols must be challenging at all FoodCycle projects. At Marylebone, where uniquely we need to operate out of two sites, some of those challenges come to the fore. Yet somehow the cooking team always manage to conjure up superb meals…

With thanks to Rachelle for the photo

…while returnees from the communal dining hosting team helped us to get through the evening without a glitch; there was much joy among the several dozen guests and the hosts alike. Let’s simply say that I was hosting “leader” only nominally that night. But I did fill in the forms, which apparently I do comparatively well, despite my allergy to form-filling.

Thanks to Bill for this photo

Before the meal, Reverend Clare conducted a short, moving service of remembrance for those regulars who are no longer able to join in with the communal meals. Janie and I had got to know several of the people who have died or become incapacitated since the start of lockdown.

Reverend Donna took on the role of DJ during the meal, playing an assortment of gentle classics. But at one point I detected the unmistakable sensation of live music in the hall. One of the guests, a Russian gentleman, who had only recently started attending for takeaways, was playing the piano…

…masterfully…

…with exceptional virtuosity, in a St Petersburg style, if you know what I mean.

“Did you know he could play?” I asked the reverends. Both demurred. He simply asked if he could have a go and they thought, “why not?”

Not quite Sokolov (both the gentleman and the piano are a few sizes down from the grand depiction below) but that YouTube link might give you the gist and in any case is a charming listen:

There was tumultuous applause at the end of our guest’s set. I for one found the whole experience delightful and moving; it was the first time I had heard live music of performance quality since before lockdown. I do hope that gentleman plays for us again.

The whole evening was a great success. We’ve learnt a lot and hopefully we can do even better next week.

25 September 2021

Earlier in the week, out of the blue, I received a message from Frank Dillon saying that he would be in London this weekend and at a bit of a loose end on Saturday.

I hadn’t seen Frank since we went to Southport four years ago:

As luck would have it, Janie had arranged to have her hair done middle of the day and I too was available.

Thus Frank journeyed from Gray’s Inn to Noddyland for the afternoon, while his kin went to the Chelsea Flower Show.

The weather didn’t smile on us quite as much as I’d have liked, but we were able to take coffee and sit on the terrace for some time.

By the time I started to pull together a luncheon platter, word came from Janie that she was on her way back from the hairdresser’s, so we were all able to graze together, at which point it was only right and proper to try a glass or two of wine.

We didn’t quite finish putting the world to rights, but we had quite a good go at it. In any case, we’ll need something left to remedy for our next regathering, which hopefully will be reasonably soon.

It was a really pleasant way to end a convivial and charitable week.

Southport Day Three: County Cricket En Famille Plus A Blast From My Keele Past, 11 June 2017

It has to be said that, up until this day, our attempts over the years, with Lavender and Escamillo Escapillo, to watch Middlesex and Lancashire play cricket, had been soggy experiences to say the least.

I wrote up our first attempt, in a light-hearted-stylee, back in 2009, for King Cricket – click here.  (That day is also Ogblogged – here).

Indeed, previous attempts by just me and Escamillo Escapillo to watch our respective counties play each other had been thwarted for one reason or another until last season, where we managed to squeeze in a half day – Ogblogged here.

So after yesterday’s washout – delightfully filled with activities in Liverpool instead – it was a joy to see blue skies on the Sunday morning and a forecast that suggested little or no interruptions to play.

We aimed to get to the ground in time for the start, but hadn’t counted on the local Sunday trading laws, so although M&S (other sources of sandwiches, crisps and water are available) opens at 10:30, it doesn’t actually open the tills until 11:00.

Shopping is not something I like to do; I like to buy things I want/need, I don’t like to shop. So 10:35 to 11:00 that morning was not the most enjoyable/memorable part of the day. I won’t be making that mistake again on a Sunday morning.

Still, we had the Escamillo-mobile on stand-by, so we were still inside the ground and wandering around by 11:20.

Cricket En Famille – But Who Is The Third Man?

We took up good front row seats in our chosen position quite quickly. Soon after that, Daisy got quite shirty with me because I didn’t want to start drinking at 12:00 on a Sunday. Escamillo Escapillo was driving anyway and I knew what was coming later, so we left it to the girls to start drinking that early in the day.

There were quite a few Middlesex supporters around on the Sunday – some came and sat quite close to us. Soon after lunch was called by the umpires, Barmy Kev came and joined us for a while.

Barmy Kev didn’t take it upon himself to remind me that I owe him a drink or three and I don’t need reminding. But I didn’t want to drink that early in the day; I knew what was coming later, plus I didn’t want to reciprocate Barmy Kev’s generous hospitality at Lord’s with the less salubrious (I really mean less expensive) offerings at the Trafalgar Ground.

Meanwhile Escamillo Escapillo and Lavender were both as happy as Larry; the former because Lancashire were doing well in the match, the latter because EE was as happy as Larry and she was getting a bit merry with Daisy on the fermented grape juice.

“So who is the third man?” I hear readers up and down the land asking, as we are now several paragraphs on from me setting that puzzle.

The third man is Frank Dillon, a good friend from the Keele days who lives in Merseyside. The reason for his appearance is partially explained in an Ogblog piece I wrote a few weeks ago about an old school-friends gathering – click here.

If that makes no sense to you, click the blithering link where the strangeness is explained. The long and short of it is that John Easom at Keele Alumni Central put me and Frank back in touch with each other and when I told Frank that we would be coming to Southport for the cricket in a couple of week’s time, he responded by saying that he had been half-planning to show up at that match anyway.

We’d bought plenty of sandwiches for everyone, while Frank wanted us to know unequivocally that, while we were visitors on his patch, he was going to buy the drinks aplenty.  Perhaps there is some sort of by-law about this for Merseyside.

Escamillo Escapillo was becoming even happier than Larry, despite sticking strictly to driver’s lemonade, as Lancashire’s position went from good to seemingly impregnable. Lavender likewise for both of the reasons expressed earlier.

As tea came round, so the young couple said their goodbyes to us, as planned; they were heading home that afternoon/evening, whereas Daisy and I were staying on the extra night.

Frank said that he too would only stick around for another hour or so after the young couple left, but that was plenty of time for us to finish catching up with some of our news, swap some old stories and discuss the current political maelstrom.

Cricket, wine, water, memories, news, political maelstrom…

In addition to his generosity with the drinks, Frank seems to have decided that I should be the curator of his Keele picture memorabilia, handing me an envelope with a few photographs, all of which will find their way onto Ogblog when I write up the relevant stories but can now all (all seven) be seen on Flickr, click here.

The picture of 1980/81 committee members (including Frank)  with Robert Plant I have already added to my Ogblog piece on that story – here.

It was a really lovely day – at last Daisy and I have spent some time actually watching cricket with Lavender and Escamillo Escapillo – indeed it had been a lovely weekend with them. The years just fell away chatting with Frank; I do hope to see him again soon, probably in London next time.

After Frank left, Daisy and I stuck around for a few more minutes until it started to get a bit chilly again. We wandered round to the hospitality tent and got a chance to say goodbye to Keith Hayhurst and one or two others who hadn’t been around when we said our goodbyes there on Friday – click here to read about election day and Day One of this match.

Ringroad Finalists Revue, Keele University Students’ Union (KUSU), 27 June 1985

A couple of weeks ago (May 2017) I wrote an Ogblog piece about my first forays into Ringroad Revue – click here. Quick as a flash, John Easom at “Keele Alumni Central” put Frank Dillon in touch with me, triggering e-mail exchanges, arrangements to meet up and of course a flood of more memories.

Frank wrote/asked:

I was particularly intrigued to learn that you are in possession of The Cornflake Box – or The Holy Grail as Olu Odunsi and I have dubbed it these past 30 years(!) or so.
Any chance you could scan me the contents?

The actual box (which I suppose I inherited from Frank in the summer of 1984) disintegrated during 1985 while it was living in my flat (K block Horwood). I think it was probably replaced by another similar box.

My collection of scripts is now in a file – a mixture of original hand-written scripts and photocopies – a fragment of the Holy Grail with some facsimile elements.

I don’t think that I even took the actual box with me…not that it was THE actual box any more, unless we accept that this particular Holy Grail of a Cornflake Box regenerated every few years – a bit like Dr Who…just more funny, less animated and with fewer enemies.

I suspect it will be autumn (2017) before I get space to take on the Ringroad File/Cornflake Box/Holy Grail Fragment for comprehensive scanning and sharing – otherwise I’ll be interrupting my current/future life by spending a disproportionate amount of time wallowing in the past…and that won’t do.

But I do have, already digitised, a recording of the Finalists Revue from 1985, which I have uploaded in two chunks (due to WordPress file size restrictions).

I cannot remember the name of everyone who appeared in the 1985 Finalists Revue – apologies to those whose names I only half remember or forget.

Frank was gone by then. Olu Odunsi was still around and was a delight to work with on the boards, including this show. John Bowen, who was on the research//academic staff, also joined with us for Ringroad that 1984/85 academic year and was similarly good news to have in the team.

Indeed the whole cast was fun and friendly. Dave Griffiths (who also wrote very good material) and three fabulous lasses, Jo, Jackie and (I think) Karen. Possibly there were others, but I think that’s it. Please help me to fill in the gaps if you are able, dear reader.

I have not re-listened to the recording in full myself yet, but I think the second half might be a tad better than the first half. The recording is poor as we had a microphone shortage, so some bits are less audible than others and some sketches sound a bit shouty.

I was pretty hopeless as a performer, really, but I think it was seen as a bit of a coup to have a union sabbatical on the Ringroad cast taking the pee out of union politics. I wrote little back then – my comedy writing was to blossom later, in the 1990s, at NewsRevue.

Enjoy the recording(s) below and please do comment.

Ringroad Finalists Revue 27 June1985 Part One of Two

 

Ringroad Finalists Revue 27 June1985 Part Two of Two

 

My First Ringroad Performance and Related Memories, Keele, 18 August 1984

I was reminded of my early Ringroad performances the other day (May 2017) while chatting with Paul Spence at an informal, curry-oriented gathering of the old school clan.

When Paul mentioned that his extensive energy sector interests include nuclear power, I found myself reciting the Ringroad Windscale poem from memory – the first and last verse simply flowed as if I had read or performed it just the other day.

Paul asked if I had a copy of the poem. I said I probably did – see below.

I didn’t write the poem. I’m not sure who did. Possibly Frank Dillon; at least Frank would probably know who wrote it. I’d like to credit it if anyone reading this can let me know the name of the author.

That chat with Paul brought back a flood of memories about my sabbatical year summer and my first Ringroad performances.

Over the summer, Keele would get waves of Open University students passing through for short face-to-face courses. This was rich pickings for a depleted Ringroad troupe, as you could redeploy the same material, show after show, secure in the knowledge that it was new to the frequently-changing audience.

Further, the Open University audience had money. Ringroad was traditionally performed on an “entry free, pay what you like on exit” basis. Our own impoverished students would tend to chip in with a couple of bob at best (nothing at worst), whereas the OU students would happily toss 50p pieces or pound coins/notes into the hat. One OU performance could easily generate a week’s-worth of beer money for two or three performers.

Frank Dillon, who was a seasoned Ringroad writer and performer, was around that summer and we spent a lot of time with him. I guess I was the only sabbatical mad enough (or perhaps I should say keen enough on a bit of extra-curricular performance and beer money) to agree to give Ringroad a try with him.

I recall Adrian Gorst joining me and Frank in performing Ringroad on occasions that summer, but I’m pretty sure that my first attempt was just me and Frank, an idea possibly hatched by Frank because Adrian was away. Frank probably sealed the deal with me a couple of nights before:

Thursday 16 August…went to Burtonwood piss up with Frank in eve

John White was also around that summer but didn’t want to perform Ringroad. It was just a few days earlier (14 August) that John and I started doing Union discos together – I’ll cover the discos and much more about that summer in other Ogblog pieces.

Still, it seems that my first attempt at Ringroad went well enough:

Saturday 18 August…did Ringroad in the evening – good larf

Frank and I did it again the next day:

Sunday 19 August…spent afternoon going over Ringroad stuff with Frank. Performed Ringroad in evening.

But perhaps I was over-stretching myself taking on all this novel activity at the same time:

Tuesday 21 August…did Ringroad and disco – both went down rather badly.

I recall that the OU students had somewhat of a reputation in the eyes of the regular Keele people. Let me merely say that many an OU student’s ring finger would show evidence of very recent ring removal, especially in the evenings.

From: http://www.flickr.com/photos/askjoanne/390246275/ Photographer: AskJoanne
This file is gratefully licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic license.

Indeed, had the term “cougar hunter” been invented back then, performing Ringroad to the OU students might have been described as, “like wielding a two bore rifle in a jungle densely inhabited by felines of a particular species”.

Not that I am suggesting that Frank Dillon and I were “two bores”. Far from it. Moreover, neither of us were interested in that particular fringe benefit.

In fact, I recall, after one of those early performances, Frank was relentlessly chased after the show by a very enthusiastic middle-aged OU woman who said she loved the show and clearly took a particular shine to Frank. I think it might have been the night that John and I also did the disco, so John and I only had limited opportunities to rescue Frank and help steer proceedings to a reasonably dignified conclusion.

If Frank had shown a more open-minded attitude to such matters, of course, he might have become President of France by now. Or at least Merseyside Metro Mayor.

Still, bunny boiling hadn’t yet been invented then either, so, as far as I know, no animals, (feline, lapine or indeed of any species) were harmed in the making of Ringroad that summer. Pady Jalali, our social secretary, a well-known protector of live fauna and carrion alike, will be much relieved to learn this.

Why did I recall all of this?

Oh yes, Windscale, Sellafield and the poem that I doubtless learned that first weekend of doing Ringroad and which has stuck in my brain ever since. The corn flake box which protected my collection of Ringroad scripts has long since disintegrated, but I have preserved the scripts as best I can in a file.

To be credited to the author as soon as that person’s identity is established. If you click through to the image, you can then download the file from Ogblog.

The author, if/when that person’s identity does come to light, might wish to explain their idiosyncratic spelling of Sellafield, but we’ll let that pass for now.

I, Sabbatical: Keele Students’ Union Education & Welfare Election Week, Mid March 1984

“Welcome To The Top Table”. Picture 1985, with thanks to Mark Ellicott

I claim in my diary not to remember much about this week…John White reports similarly from his diary when he ran successfully for the sabbatical Union Secretary role a couple of weeks earlier…

..yet there are several aspects of that election week that I remember very clearly, forty years later.

The Story So Far…

Just to summarise the story so far – I was quietly trying to ensure that the Union Committee for 84/85 would be a lot more effective and less chaotic than the 83/84 team, which was beset with ructions and (often self-inflicted) problems.

My dream team for 84/85 included my girlfriend, Bobbie Scully, as Education and Welfare sabbatical. Bobbie had other plans and turned out to be better at the Machiavellian stuff than me, ganging up with other friends to turn the tables on me.

I saw Bobbie at the Gresham Society dinner earlier this week (writing in March 2024) and warned her that I would be writing up the story of her stitching me up for this role.

Quite right, except the truth of it was that you tried to stitch me up and the easiest way out of it was for me to stitch you up instead

That’s clear.

A late Renaissance petard. There’s me, setting it off, about to be hoist by it, while Malcolm Cornelius and Bobbie Scully watch from a safe distance

Malcolm Cornelius and Annalisa de Mercur helped me produce my manifestos…

…while the Germans (aka Rubella)…

…held me back from campaigning until the last few days of the race.

Other Random Memories Prior To Canvassing

  • I recall that there were 11 nominations for the role of Education & Welfare that year and all of us remained in the race and appeared on the ballot paper. That was believed to be a record back then and might still be a record.
  • I hoped to get endorsement from the Liberals and Labour…although I was a member of neither…on the basis that the position is apolitical, no-one amongst the 11 candidates was a member of either party and that my political leanings were (are) unattached liberal-left. The Liberals went for it without fuss…my flat, Barnes L54 was sort-of “Liberals Central” with Pete Wild living there and Melissa Oliveck hanging out there with Pete much of the time.
  • It was much harder to persuade Labour to endorse me. I had been a member of Labour Club until a year or two previous but had not identified enough with the local MP nor the party line to feel comfortable with formal alignment. One of the candidates decided to try to carpetbag Labour endorsement by joining Labour Club. Truda Smith, by then head of Labour Club, thought that was good enough. Frank Dillon, presumably thinking differently, took it upon himself as Secretary of Labour club to come round and see me in Barnes L54, give me a good grilling and decide who to propose for Labour endorsement. It was the first time I had a long chat with Frank, but for sure it was not the last.

Frank did not say, “Ian Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship…”

…but I did get the Labour endorsement and it was the beginning of a friendship with Frank that has endured.

The Legwork Campaign Began

Sunday 11 March 1984 – Started canvassing this afternoon- hard work. Went to KRA with Vivian in evening after.

Monday 12 March 1984 – Canvassed hard today – went to UGM in evening – left early – went over to Bobbie’s – came back.

Tuesday 13 March 1984 – Hard canvassing all day today – refecs, rooms, etc. V tiring – popped in to see B after for a while.

Wednesday 14 March 1984 – Canvassed hard all day – went Union in eve with Bobbie – came back.

I recall getting advice from Dr Scott on whether my rubella presented a risk to anyone – he gave me a rule to follow ahead of going door to door, which I think would have enabled me to start on the Saturday but I waited until the Sunday “to be sure”. That didn’t prevent one “spoiler” rumour that I was spreading rubella and might cause birth defects were I to infect a pregnant woman while canvassing, rendering me utterly unsuited to a welfare post. I remember being furious about that one.

I also recall some low-level attempts to spoil my campaign by the Tories, who saw me as a Union insider and a leftie at that. I particularly remember Laura Helm and one of her Tory pals trying to delay me and/or honey-trap me by flirting with me and inviting me in when I went to Laura’s door. Didn’t work. I dread to think what might have happened had I taken the bait. I remember Laura telling me after the election that she sensed that I would win it from the way I handled that stunt.

Laura second from left, with “the Tory crowd” – thanks Mark Ellicott for the picture

I also remember Duncan Baldwin, with whom I studied both Economics and Law, telling me that he was going to vote for me despite the difference in our political views, because he sensed that I would be honest and diligent, which he felt was what the Union needed. I remember being moved by that statement and also thinking that I would be well-placed if there were plenty of others who thought like Duncan.

I also remember my Malay friends telling me that they were not going to vote because they wouldn’t be around the following year and that they felt that the matter should be determined by those who would be living with the consequences of that vote. An interesting morality, not one that I shared but I understood it. I thought that factor might run against me if there were too many of my friends who felt that way.

I hadn’t set foot in a refectory for years, but chose to eat in them while canvassing. One person in the refectory told me that they were going to vote for me because I removed my plates and bowls from the tray rather than scoffing from the tray. I didn’t read too much psephology into that event but never forgot the strange exchange.

I oriented my campaign to some extent to encourage overseas students to vote. I felt that they got a raw deal and that there were interests of theirs that I could advocate, both on the education and welfare side of things. Blessing Odatuwa and Bobbie’s friend Lara from Lindsay K Block lobbied the Cameroonian and Nigerian communities (respectively) for me. I knew Tony Wong and others from the Chinese student community well, following several years of joint activities – Bobbie was also well connected with that crowd.

Election Days And Aftermath

Thursday 15 March 1984 – Whole day in concourse – very tiring. Went to J-Soc and on to Union after with Bobbie – came back after.

Friday 16 March 1984 – Big day – Concourse all day (charades at end!!) – result – won – don’t remember much!! Bobbie came back.

Saturday 17 March 1984 – Rose quite late – went off to Lichfield etc – went to restaurant in Hanley -> Union after -> Bobiie’s.

“Don’t remember much” is not quite true.

I do remember Bobbie’s friend Lara, in the concourse, trying to badger some of her fellow Nigerian students into voting for me.  Bobbie berated Lara for being overly persuasive – she was virtually dragging reluctant people towards the ballot box – but Lara said, “a bit of political thuggery never did any harm”.  She was 18 or 19 years old.

I’m not sure what I mean by “charades”. I was being ultra careful to do everything by the spirit as well as the letter of the rules. At one point, because there was a shortage of people to staff the ballot boxes, I noticed that both Bobbie and Annalisa were the pair on the boxes. Given that they were both actively part of my team, that felt wrong. I remember raising an objection myself, suggesting to Vivian that she must replace one of them in a hurry, only for all the other candidates to tell Vivian not to bother and me not to worry…they trusted Bobbie and Annalisa to behave impartially on the ballot boxes. That’s what happens when you are trustworthy.

Annalisa – a card carrying member of the Union

But hanging around in the concourse was rather dull, especially towards the end of a two-day election, by which time most people had either voted or long-since decided not to bother to vote. So perhaps we actually played charades, as I do remember a good feeling among the candidates…

…at least, there was certainly a good feeling among the candidates before we played charades.

The count took ages, not least because there were eleven candidates and counting was done using the single transferrable vote system. Malcolm Cornelius could explain to you in excruciating detail how that works. Ask him…go on, ask him.

Actually, the voting was quite close among the ten other people in the election, who I think all landed somewhere between 40 and 100 first votes. I landed just over 200. Thus I think the eliminations did need to be done one by one., which is very time-consuming.

I recall being nervous and fretting that I might have needed more first votes than I got in order to win the election, thinking that I might have been a “marmite candidate” who mostly landed only first preferences. At one point I remember Bobbie taking me aside and telling me, long before the result was called, that I should relax because I’d won.

ME: But I might not have enough second preferences…

BOBBIE: Yes you do.

ME: What makes you so sure?

BOBBIE: Because I sat on those blinking ballot boxes for hours and most people did their voting in front of me.

Of course Bobbie as right – the transfers landed in similar proportions to the first votes and my margin kept increasing.

The tallying might have looked a bit like this, only with younger people and no Gerald Ford pipe

The only thing I really remember about the celebrations was being descended upon by the gang from my old Lindsay F Block: Richard van Baaren, Benedict Coldstream and Bob Schumacher, who carried me aloft around the main bar for a while, much to my fearful chagrin. Big units, those guys, they were never going to drop me.

To Summarise…

I got elected as sabbatical Education & Welfare Officer in March 1984. I tried to keep my promises when in office between June 1984 and June 1985.

My Second “Thanks For Coming” (TFC) Keele Festival Week Cricket Match, 21 June 1983

The Players Team In A Previous Year – c1981 – Thanks Frank Dillon

I made a right pigs ear of writing up this match originally, combining memories of the 1982 and 1983 games. It took the good offices of Mark Ellicott to put matters right in the matter of the 1982 match.

“Got Roped In To Playing Cricket All Afternoon”, Gentlemen v Players Cricket Match, Keele Festival Week, 24 June 1982

On the back of my 1982 derring-do (one catch, following a series of mishaps), presumably I qualified as an incumbent (Mark Ellicott was absent all year 1982/83) and was therefore invited along to the Players net session, which my diary shows taking place on Monday 20th; the day before the match.

If our captain, the late Toby Bourgein (who sadly died in 2020) had hoped, on the back of my willingness and enthusiasm to contribute, that there was some innate cricketing ability to be teased out in the nets, he was probably sorely disappointed.

Hardly surprising, given my relative lack of ability and the fact that I probably hadn’t played for five years or so. Even house games at school had resorted to using me as a neutral umpire towards the end of my schooldays. I was keen on the game but out of practice & quite useless by 1982 (and 1983). Latterly I got a little bit better again.

But Toby was the loyal sort and anyway probably only had eleven volunteers from which to pick his team, so I was in again.

As in 1982, I didn’t expect much of a role and yet again got pretty much what I expected.

Again I fielded, almost certainly with my trusty skiff of ale for company, but I recall nothing of note this time around.

The 1983 Keele Festival match proved to be an historic win for the Players. I recall Toby holding back a couple of our better batsmen who were more or less able to finish the job when we were six or seven down. I recall one of the match-winning batsmen fell just before the target,  so I was sent in to achieve a glorious 0* without even facing a ball.

As I put it in my diary:

…famous left-wing victory.

Toby, being Toby, remembered my derring-do from 1982 and TFC record from 1982 & 1983, so asked me to open the batting in the 1984 fixture. But that is another story of another great win for the mighty Players.

O Captain! My Captain! – Gentlemen Of The Right v Players Of The Left – Keele Festival Week Cricket Match, 26 June 1984

I have no photos from the 1982, 1983 nor the 1984 match, but this one from a couple of years earlier, thanks to Frank Dillon, should give the reader a pretty good feel for the look of the mighty Players team.

With thanks to Frank Dillon, this picture of an earlier “Players” team, probably 1981

If anyone out there has more memories and/or photographs of our festival week beer matches, especially this game, I’d love to hear from you.

The Keele “Naff” Guide by Frank Dillon & “Friends”, A Concourse Freebie, c1983

Frank Dillon: “It wasn’t just me, it was also them”

In 1983, the humorous publishing “mode du jour” was The Complete Naff Guide:

Purportedly by three authors, it was in fact written almost exclusively by William Donaldson, who was better known as Henry Root. I read the Henry Root Letters books earlier than 1983 in my time at Keele and found them laugh-out-loud funny. I still treasure my copies of those.

Perhaps it was those Henry Root book covers that inspired The Price Of Fish…

…but I digress.

The point is, Frank Dillon and others decided to put together a spoof of The Complete Naff Guide, in the form of a booklet, which was given away with Concourse. It caused a bit of a flurry, because it was, to Keele students at the time, very funny.

Indeed, at the time I recall thinking that the Keele “Naff” Guide was, to my mind, a lot funnier than the real thing. Returning to both recently, my view has, if anything, hardened on this. The Complete Naff Guide seems terribly dated and riddled with in-jokes directed at particular media people of that era, presumably those who were not on William Donaldson’s Christmas card list. I suspect that rather a lot of well-known people were not on Christmas card terms with Donaldson.

As for the Keele “Naff” Guide, while some jokes are dated, chunks of it remain funny and probably relevant. I think many of the jokes will resonate with Keele alums and students throughout the ages.

You can judge for yourselves and let us know what you think. Here, with Frank Dillon’s permission, I republish it in full. All 20 pages of it.

Frank says the following:

I did write at least some of it, but can’t take credit (or blame) for the whole thing, though the idea that I had “friends” will come as a shock to many.

I suspect that the harsher observations contained therein would not evade the blue pencil of 21st-century mores, so apologies to those who might have been offended (and are yet to be so, upon re-publication).

I echo the last sentence of Frank’s message, but suggest that you would need to be super-sensitive to be offended by any of the content, as long as you read it in its context: a 1983 comedic piece. The first item in the list of “Naff Records To Request At the Disco”, for example, reads like a cruel joke today, in late May 2023, whereas it was, at the time, a reference to a record that didn’t need to be requested, because it was almost always played at union discos and/or on the main bar jukebox!

Returning to the Keele “Naff” Guide…

…you can view the document two ways. I have uploaded all 20 images to Flickr, which is perhaps more navigable (or at least makes it easier to enlarge the pages) – the first link below is the cover, clicking on that one takes you to Flickr. Below that are the other 19 images shown within this piece – each one is clickable if you want to delve deeper or larger into that one page.

Keele Naff Guide 01 es

It does bother me a bit, though, that Frank and “friends” were persuading me to run for Chair of Constitutional Committee around the same time as they were listing that role as quintessentially naff.

I thought you were my friend, Frank. 😉

Getting Elected To The Naffest Role In The Keele Students’ Union, But Did I Have The Constitution For It In May 1983?

In the spring of 1983, one of the “big hit” comedy books that captivated the young (and young at heart) was The Complete Naff Guide.

Available second hand – click image if you wish

Not long after, there emerged a short publication at Keele named The Keele “Naff” Guide. It is attributed to Adrian Bore and Daphne Canard, but is actually the work of Frank Dillon, with a little help from his friends. I plan to e-publish the “tome” for the May Bank Holiday weekend 2023. Watch this space.

Point is, on the short list of Naff Union Positions gracing the back cover of the Keele “Naff” Guide, Chairperson Of Constitutional Committee does stand out as being quintessentially naff.

How Frank himself, with a little help from his friends, persuaded me to run for that position in the spring of 1983, is one of life’s mysteries that would probably best remain unsolved. But I’m going to try and solve it anyway.

I have mentioned before the shenanigans around several union elections in 1982 and 1983, largely caused by the Tory faction deliberately trying to game flaws and loopholes in the election rules in an attempt to disrupt the smooth running of the union.

In May 1983 my memory would still have been fresh with the (in my case literally sickening) shenanigans that February – click here or below:

Yes, I was on Constitutional Committee (which was also Election Appeals Committee) that year. Yes, I suppose I was seen as one of the good guys. Yes, only one person had put their name forward for the 1983/84 role – Adam Fairholme, who was a Conservative, albeit from a benign corner of that grouping.

I think it was a small posse that ganged up on me and persuaded me to run. I’m pretty sure that Frank Dillon himself was part of that posse. Also Vincent Beasley. I have a feeling that Genaro Castaldo (he who pleaded me away from my sick bed when things went awry in February) and possibly also Viv Robinson (who had been elected to succeed Genaro) leant on me.

I said I didn’t really want to do it. I said I had no time to put together a manifesto and contest the election. I said it was better that they find someone else.

Just do whatever you can. We think you’ll win the election anyway.

I sat in the Main Bar and wrote a few lines in large block capitals on a side of A4 paper. I wish I still had that scribbled-so-called-manifesto to show you. It was so sloppy and shoddy that, I recall, Viv Robinson and I subsequently used it in a guidance note to people who wanted to run for elections in 1983/84 as an example of what NOT to do.

It included my name writ large with a large cross in a box top and bottom. I recall that I pledged to

  • uphold the spirit and the letter of the constitution
  • explain constitutional matters in ways that would help and encourage students to participate in the union
  • seek to revise the constitution to block the loopholes that had recently been exploited to frustrate the union’s purposes.

In fairness to myself, despite the brevity of the pledges and shoddy presentation, I did see through those pledges to the best of my ability during 1983/84.

Having signed my nomination papers and deposited my scrappy piece of hand-written A4 purporting to be a manifesto, I then went back to Shelton for much of the next week, returning to the campus just for classes, a bit of private study and some infeasibly long tennis matches with Alan “The Great Yorkshire Pudding” Gorman. I don’t think I went to the union again until election day.

I’m pretty sure that my diary entry on 6 May which reads, in part “union for a while” reflects the above.

Friday 13 May 1983 – Busyish day – classes etc. – election for const. comm. – won – went to Shelton- had 1st drink (or 2) there.

I think I won the election on a small turnout but a significant percentage. Something like 120 to 80. I recall that Adam Fairholme was bitterly disappointed not to be elected; I think he campaigned quite hard and fancied his chances against an all-but-absentee candidate. Actually Adam was a good bloke and we became friends, albeit not close friends. I’ll write more about him and his demise come the 40th anniversary of that tragedy.

“1st drink (or 2)” relates to the fact that I had been completely off the sauce since February on the back of doctors orders due to my glandular fever (infectious mononucleosis). In May, Dr Scott told me that my “six month ban” could be reduced to “three months” for good behaviour, as I really hadn’t touched a drop.

But did I have the constitution for it?

Saturday 14 May 1983 – Rose quite early – came back to Keele for a while – dress and tennis – went back to Shelton – drag at party – not too pleasant – v late night.

I only very vaguely remember this party but I’m guessing it was some sort of costume party involving drag (they were an arty crowd, Liza’s North Staffs Poly crowd – I suppose that’s what you get when you study art). I don’t think I enjoyed it much, based on my diary entry.

Sunday 15 1983 – decadent day in bed – talking etc. – v pleasant – felt v ill – temp up – both [me and Liza] came back to Keele.

Even at the age of 20, I think its clear that I preferred smaller gatherings of friends/people I knew and liked, to big parties – regardless of costumes or lack thereof.

Even clearer is the fact that I did not yet have the constitution for drinking again. I voluntarily stayed off the sauce for quite a while longer. While my body didn’t tell me that three to four hour tennis matches might be overdoing it, it did tell me that one or two drinks was still one or two too many for my post-virus constitution.

How naff was that?

John Cooper Clarke: Ringroad Poem, Remembered & Recreated by Frank Dillon

Wash your mouth out with soap, young Mr Dillon.

As an appendix to my forty years on piece about, amongst other things, John Cooper Clarke’s 1982 visit to Keele:

…I am delighted to report that Frank Dillon has managed to recreate most of his John Cooper Clarke poem from memory. Just as well, as I do not have a copy of it in my Ringroad scripts collection.

Frank wasn’t even in the country when John Cooper Clarke played that gig at Keele. Frank however writes:

As for John Cooper Clarke, I don’t have a copy of it, but I offer the following recreation, honed (or harmed) by the sands of time (i.e. 40 years).

It’s vitally important to read it in the voice of the great man, and with a hint of hysteria.

(And I do mean the great man – for this was a homage, nay, a pastiche, rather than an attack on JCC, for whom I retain an enduring fondness).

I hope it brings back fond memories. Anyway, here goes:

He runs the whole gamut of feelings, from A right through to B. 
At school he wore a cone-shaped hat that bore the letter D. 
He’s the first one, but he’s useless,
Just like the word Aardvark, 
John Cooper Clarke. 

Where he came from is a mystery indeed. 
His mam and dad, they must have been too bloody thick to breed. 
If he’s half the age his jokes are,  
Then he came from Noah’s Ark,  
John Cooper Clarke.

His so-called style is dissolute, his muse, the commonplace. 
The burden of banality is etched upon his face. 
He’s told more boring stories  
Than a bloody copper’s nark, 
John Cooper Clarke 

He’s the new enfant terrible of the trendy literati.
His mordant wit is de rigueur at all the coolest parties.
But like a puppy, laryngectomised, 
His bite’s worse than his bark, 
John Cooper Clarke 

He’s a Wimpy-bar philosopher, his lines are full of glee. 
He can find the secret of existence in a cup of tea. 
But like a wanker with his eyes poked out, 
He’s shooting in the dark, 
John Cooper Clarke 

He thinks he’s T S Eliot, or Keats, or Wilfred Owen 
And literary publishers will clamour for his poems 
He’s got more front and chutzpah 
Than a flasher in the park, 
John Cooper Clarke 
John Cooper Clarke 
John Cooper Clarke 

I must say that I don’t remember that last couplet. My recollection of the closing couplet was:

But like a masturbating eunuch,

He’ll never make a mark,

John Cooper Clarke, John Cooper F*****G Clarke, John Cooper F*****G B*****D Clarke…

Still, a pretty impressive bit of brain archaeology from Frank there.

Respect.

Cinema (e.g. Carrie), Casualty At Kings College and Cooper Clarke At Keele, First Half Of February 1982

John Cooper Clarke 1979 by TimDuncan, CC BY 3.0

Most of my diary notes from that period suggest that I had my head down working at that time. My impressionistic memory tells me that I was quite urgently seeking to switch from halls in Lindsay to a flat in Barnes at that time, although the diary is silent on that matter until a bit later in the month, when I pulled off that switch.

Still, the diary highlights some interesting events at Keele and an eventful trip to London at that time. Forty years on, it’s time for me to share the highlights.

Friday 5 February 1982 – …stayed in most of evening apart from dreadful film, “The Main Event“.

Yup, that’s not my kind of movie. Never mind.

Saturday 6 February 1982 – Went to Newcastle quite late. Did very little work really. Went to Michelle [Epstein]’s party in evening. Sharon & Louise came back after.

Richard van Baaren &/or Benedict Coldstream might well also have been at that party, as I recall Sharon & Louise being part of that crowd. No mention of Anju on this occasion – perhaps she had something else on. We missed Mari Wilson & The Imaginations for that party, so for sure there were other things to do on campus that night. At that stage, I think Michelle was going out with a character named Joel. I don’t think Michelle got together with Neil [Infield] whom she married – I kept in touch with both of them for many years – until much later in our time at Keele.

Sunday 7 February 1982 – Did some work during day. Went to see Carrie & Scanners in afternoon/evening + did some more work

I have one very clear memory from that psycho-thriller movie double bill at Film Soc. I went to see those movies with a young woman whose name completely escapes me. She was a close friend of Katie’s (aka Cathy) – she of my dad’s embarrassing moment a few month’s earlier. Those two were very close pals of each other and I remained a casual pal with both of them for much of my time at Keele

Update: Katie (Cathy) has put me back in touch with Linda (Jones), who was that young woman at Film Soc 40+ years ago.

In fact, we might not even have gone to those movies “as a date” but possibly both ambled along there solo and simply chosen to sit next to each other, as Film Soc folk often did.

*** Spoiler alert for the movie Carrie ***

At the end of Carrie, the following “jump scare” scene occurs:

…at which point, my young woman friend screamed, jumped and pretty much landed in my lap. Fortunately for me she was quite a skinny, light girl, so she did me no immediate damage. Nor did she injure herself with her jump, other than a little injured pride perhaps as she couldn’t stop apologising for her scare-movie-timidity for the rest of the event.

Ever since then, I haven’t been able to think of the movie Carrie, nor even jump scares in movies generally, without thinking about that young woman and her reaction to that wonderful scene. I was reminded of it the other day (as I write in February 2022), almost exactly 40 years on, when a young woman in front of me and Janie at The Royal Court jumped almost out of her skin at the pre-interval coup de theatre in The Glow:

But I digress.

In February 1982, I didn’t think Scanners was in the same league as Carrie.

Monday 8 February 1982 – …went to [Barnes] G3 for dinner…

It was the G3 crowd (which I think included Rana Sen and Kath), who helped me to find my Barnes flat. I have a feeling that the cunning plan that led to my flat room-for-halls room swap a few week’s later might well have been seeded at that very dinner. More on that swap next time.

Tuesday 9 February 1982 – …went to see Gloria in evening – OK-ish.

Again, not my kind of movie I feel.

Wednesday 10 February 1982 – very busy day – tutorials moved etc. J-Soc committee & Internal Affairs – very busy day all in all. Presidential forum – Simon [Jacobs] & Jon [Gorvett] came back for coffee.

I only vaguely remember being on Internal Affairs committee. Spike Humphrey (who was VP Internal that year) had been a leading light on Concourse the previous year, so I suspect that I was “open to Spiky persuasion” when asked. Forty years on, a simple googling of the fellow, still with his Keele nickname, finds him still doing committees. In the fulness of time that link won’t work, but here is a scrape of it in February 2022.

The controversy-ridden presidential election for 82/83 will have been the following day, but I make no mention of the election in my diary, perhaps because I wasn’t really involved with such things at that time. Yes, Truda Smith, who had, until recently, been going our with Jon Gorvett, was one of the candidates. But I didn’t actually support Truda for that election; I was supporting the official Labour candidate, a lovely lass named Jan Phillips, whose candidacy was ill-fated, perhaps because of Truda’s or perhaps because the power-brokers-that-were (e.g. Toby Bourgein) felt that Jan was unelectable. Meanwhile the Tory contingent, mostly under the Machiavellian guidance of a chap named Chris Boden, were looking to disrupt the election process that year. I’ll explain the resulting hoo-ha next time. Seems that I simply voted on the Thursday (not a noteworthy event) and got ready for my rare London trip.

Thursday 11 February 1982 – Lazyish day – did some work. Went to buffet supper in evening – did some work after.

Friday 12 February 1982 – Left for London early afternoon – Grandma Jenny had come for dinner – injured herself – spent evening in Kings casualty

If I recall correctly, the family crisis had already started to unfurl when I arrived at my parents’ house and we all went straight off to Camberwell. Now THAT’s my idea of a Friday night out in London!

King’s College Hospital by KiloCharlieLima, CC BY-SA 4.0

Saturday 13 February 1982 – Got up quite early. Did some taping – spoke to people. Mum & dad went out – had relaxing evening in.

Sunday 14 February 1982 – Got up late. Went to Polyanna’s for lunch. Made tapes and spoke to people for rest of the day – quite enjoyable.

I should return at some point to the tapes I was making back then, some of which catalogue the soundtrack of our lives in the early 1980s.

Not sure who dined at Polyanna’s – probably just me and my parents, as I don’t mention anyone else. Polyanna’s was a rare example back then of a proper European-style bistro restaurant on Battersea Rise. It seemed well-decent back then compared with most suburban fare. Now The Humble Grape.

Picture borrowed from Christine Eccles in Battersea Memories on FB.

Monday 15 February 1982 – Met Caroline [Freeman, now Curtis] for lunch – > came back to Keele. Went to lousy UGM in evening -> Simon’s for coffee.

The lousiness of the UGM was no doubt linked to the presidential election hoo-ha, about which more next time.

Tuesday 16 February 1982 – Busy day as usual. Worked in evening – got quite a lot done. Didn’t go out at all.

Wednesday 17 February 1982 – Useful day. Spent afternoon in the library. Went to see Andrea [Collins, now Woodhouse] in early evening -> John Cooper Clarke -> Simon & Jon came back – up till quite late.

I am relieved to see several mentions of Simon Jacobs in the diary around this time, as Janie and I are seeing him for lunch tomorrow – Simon doesn’t much like these forty years on pieces unless he gets a few mentions!

I remember the John Cooper Clarke concert very fondly and am really glad I attended it.

Dave Lee’s book The Keele Gigs! has more on the topic of this concert. Dave kindly not only reminded me but sent me a copy of support act, Mightier than Kong, singing their only minor hit, a rather good cover version of Hey Girl Don’t Bother Me.

As for John Cooper Clarke himself, Evidently Chickentown went down extremely well, as did most of his set. Here is an audio of a live performance from around that time (late 1981). Trigger warning: contains…indeed more or less comprises…bad language.

I also recall a Ringroad sketch entitled John Cooper Clarke which was a parody of a JCC poem, each verse of which ended with the line “John Cooper Clarke”, each preceded by an increasingly bizarre simile which rhymed with Clarke. Was it one of yours, Frank Dillon? I might have a copy of it in my “Ringroad cornflake box copies file” at the flat – if so I’ll scan it and upload it in the next week or so.