Less well known is that Jacquie Briegal’s place is also the centre of international netball when Clare Briegal has federation matters to transact in London.
This year, unusually, Mark and Clare joined in person rather than via video link. It was great to see them both as it had been a while. Regulars Hilary, Michael, me and Janie were there, as were latter-day regulars Sonia, Josh and Melody.
Josh established a new tradition for the herring fest; hailing in the festival with a lengthy blow of the rams horn. I only captured the last 10 seconds or so of the blow, but it was a longer blow than that:
Michael arrived fashionably late, as usual, being the only one amongst us who actually observes Yom Kippur. But this year Janie was last of all, as she was on a reiki course that day.
Soon after Janie arrived, we discussed cricket and discovered that Clare knows David Kendix well through his involvement with netball rankings as well as cricket ones.
Clare was suitably outspoken in the matter of my Championship tie
But let us get down to matters herring.
Jacquie had promised not to overdo it this year, but her underdone spread seems quite similar to her overdone spread.
Only four herrings competed for the coveted prize, though.
They were supplemented by chopped herring, egg and onion (Mark’s favourite food for the purposes of denigration rather than eating), several smoked salmon plates, fried fish balls, several salads and plentiful bread, including Mark’s home made challah, which was superb.
[Insert your own joke/pun on the theme of Mark being the bread winner in the Briegal household here]
Melody was concerned that I wasn’t writing down the results of my herring tastings, which, she said, gave her the lack of confidence she usually reserves for waiters who write nothing down and then mess up your restaurant order.
Quite right, Melody, for the results of the herring fest have totally escaped my mind this time and are therefore lost to all posterity…
…only kidding. I wrote down the results when Melody wasn’t looking.
Silver Herring 2019: sweet cure;
Gold Herring 2019: for the second year running, shmaltz.
Exceptional Schmaltz Herring in 2018.
As always, the evening was a lovely opportunity to catch up with the cousinhood and have a fishy, festive gathering. Jacquie, you’re a star!
My arrangements for these meet-ups are mostly lost in the mists of time. Back then, I think we still sometimes made social arrangements by picking up the telephone and talking to people – an archaic practice to say the least – certainly not Ogblog-friendly.
My main day of meetings, for/with UNISON, was 7 October. But I saw some benefit in going up the night before and staying over that night to catch up with some other folk and have some leeway for the UNISON meetings too.
I booked into an apart-hotel on the edge of the Northern Quarter – well located for Arena Point and “Central Manchester proper”, relatively inexpensive and you get enough space to really be able to work as well as relax. I think it was this one; The Light Aparthotel. I remember being given a two-bedroom apartment rather than the one-bedroom place I had paid for, so I really was able to spread out and enjoy plenty of space.
I arranged to meet my cousin Mark Briegal (second cousin once removed, actually, since you ask) after work 6 October for a quick drink before he returned to the bosom of his family in Warrington. We met up in Sam’s Chop House, which was a very suitable venue. It was really nice to catch up, albeit briefly.
I then went on to meet Ashley Fletcher (a good friend from Keele) for dinner at Bem Brasil on Lever Street, quite near my hotel. I’m used to Manchester portions being big, but this was one huge meal, with people coming round with cuts of meat regularly. Good fun and ridiculously inexpensive by London standards. I had sent Ashley a copy of my draft play, Ranter, which he had discussed with a few friends who are familiar with the 17th century history involved. No issues with the history elements but Ashley had a very bright idea for a twist in the denouement. I still want to write one more new play before I give Ranter the edit/rewrite it deserves. Might be quite a wait.
What I cannot remember is who suggested Sam’s Chop House in the first place; Mark or Alex. Because my main arrangements with Alex are preserved on e-mail and are silent about the venue, whereas those with Mark must have all been phone/SMS, I am guessing that the original idea came from Mark and that I then suggested same to Alex by SMS on the day we met. It had several benefits; I knew where to find the place (as presumably did Alex), I liked the place, I knew it offered decent beer as well as decent wine and I quite fancied trying the food at Sam’s on the second night. So Alex and I ate as well as drank at Sam’s and jolly good it was too.
I did some work on the Friday – I think I might even have fitted in a follow-up meeting at Arena Point that morning, before (according to my travel records) taking the train to Banbury.
My physical diary says Hil and Chris for the weekend, but clearly we ended up cancelling that and going to see Phillie and Tony instead. Another story, I suppose.
As KC hasn’t answered your question yet maybe I can Ged. I believe you met in Sam’s Chop House. Meeting you was obviously of sufficient import that KC mentioned it to me.
…but I think that KC was following that well-known protocol when meeting for the first time with people you know only through the internet, “make sure that at least one of your loved ones, e.g. your mum, knows exactly where you are going and why”. Very wise, although in my case I assure you not necessary, merely wise as a standard precaution.
My last few weeks of work that summer were a busy time. I was mostly working on Laurie Krieger’s various enterprises during the second half of that summer, which included Price Buster Records in Rupert Street (the one bit of the Harlequin Records empire he retained), Leisureplay (which was an arcade games business) and Centre Point Snooker Hall (depicted above), which at that time he was expanding also to include a gym venture, one within Centre point and the other out east (Barking if I remember correctly).
I spent most of my time for him pulling together various accounting records at the empire’s nerve centre – a modest former retail unit in Kenton. The team there was governed by a wonderful administrator named Marge who had a trusty part-time assistant (Jean I think), occasionally interrupted by Laurie’s former majordomo Mossy (Mr Moss) who ran Leisureplay and the occasional visit from Laurie himself.
You’re a young man. What do you think of this idea…
…he’d say, bouncing some new commercial idea off me. I usually didn’t much fancy the offer, but would always caveat my answers by saying that I’m probably not his target audience.
…yes…alright, but do you think young people in general will go for that?
…Laurie would often persist. He was a relentless entrepreneur.
The previous summer I had endeared myself to Marge and the team at Kenton by proving to be more than useful at the daily quiz on Radio London, which seemed to please them no end:
Anyway, we’re here to talk about the tail end of the 1983 summer in this piece, so here are the diary pages and some comments/links to explain the interesting bits
Wednesday 31 August…Marianne [Gilmour’s] for dinner
Thursday 1 September…met Jilly [Black] went on to proms..
Sunday 4 September 1983…[Uncle] Michael for lunch [he’d have visited my grandparents’ graves as was traditional at that time of year]…Paul [Deacon] came over later.
Friday 9 September 1983 – …helped Mum – Jacquie, Len & Mark [Briegal], Michael & Pam [Harris] came over for dinner – v nice
Sunday 11 September 1983 – Stanley & Doreen [Benjamin] came over for lunch – went over to Wendy’s [Robbins] in evening.
Basically the Jewish holidays Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur dominated these weeks.
Monday 12 September 1983 – Busy day Kenton – went out with Caroline in evening.
Tuesday 13 September 1983 – Finished P/B [Price Buster] today – went to office. Took mum and dad to The Rivals in eve.
Friday 16 September 1983 – busy day of work – lunch with Ashley [Michaels]…
Saturday 17 September 1983 – Yom Kippur – broke fast with G Jenny & Uncle Louis [Barst]…
Sunday 18 September 1983 – Nice lunch – Wendy came over in afternoon…
Tuesday 20 September 1983 …went to Annalisa [de Mercur’s] for lunch – went out with Jilly in eve – Pastels [was that a wine bar or something?] -> Joy King Lau [a favourite Chinese restaurant near Leicester Square]
Wednesday 21 September 1983 …worked late – boozing with Mike [King] till late
Thursday 22 September 1983 Felt grotty today! [see worked late / boozing till late the day before – what did you expect, kid?] Went to lunch late with [Sandy] Yap…cold coming on [this all reads a bit self-inflicted to my older eyes forty years later]
Friday 23 September 1983 – Last day. Went Stockpot lunch Yap – after work Phoenix -> Mayflower for feast – v nice.
Either I was now seen as part of the team or the gang wanted to make absolutely sure I was gone. You, dear reader, can decide.
Saturday 24 September 1983 …went to Caroline [Freeman’s…now Curtis] party – stayed at Simon’s [Jacobs]…
Sunday 25 September 1983…left about midday. Had Chinese meal at home…
The Chinese meal at home was probably from Mrs Wong. Not quite the same ass Mayflower feast, but it would have been good enough. Anyway, 40 years later, Mrs Wong is still there…
…well, the restaurant is, possibly not the middle-aged woman who ran the place abck then…
I have put the main highlights into the headline, but it was a full tilt time for me, the last three weeks of March 1974. Not only the above things but I also did “senior work with Morris” (whatever that might be), a load more drama with Ian Sandbrook, played cricket & fives & tennis & chess & Subbuteo…and got super-excited (as the young folk now say) about the hi-fi my dad procured that month.
But I am getting ahead of myself, let’s trawl those diary pages and try to make sense of them.
Sunday, 10 March 1974 – Classes party. Bar mitzvah – Mark Briegal, very good indeed. Got drunk.
Monday, 11 March 1974 – Drama good, stamp swapping. Cricket good.
Tuesday, 12 March 1974 – Saturday periods one to four. Art good. Navy display in pool v good. Senior work with Morris.
Wednesday, 13 March 1974 – Chemistry, good. Fives v good – more tuition from elderly man. World At War, good. Benny Hill.
Thursday 14 March 1974 – Not bad day. Classes good. All is okay.
Friday, 15 March 1974 – Drama, good. Hi-fi amplifier, tuner and speakers.
Saturday, 16 March 1974 -Exeat. Listened to hi-fi. Subbuteo after. Mum in a peeve.
Mark Briegal is my second cousin once removed (one of many such cousins). I am quite sure that Mark will feel honoured that my first diary reference to getting drunk (and quite possibly the very first time I felt drunk) was on the occasion of his bar mitzvah party. I vaguely remember cousins from the Jacobs branch of that family encouraging me to partake. Also rather a lot of dancing emanating from the Jacobs side. The following example from my own bar mitzvah party nearly 18 months later.
Let’s move on.
Not too sure where stamp swapping came from; I was never really into stamps. I do recall a neighbour giving me quite a sizeable box of miscellaneous stamps from the length and breadth of the dominions, some of which, for all I know, might have real value now. I still have them somewhere and should probably let someone who knows what they are doing have a look at them one day. In short, the sun never sets on my stamp collection, nor does it ever see the light of day. I might have swapped away the best of them, of course.
I cannot fathom what a navy display in the pool might have been, nor what “senior work with Morris” might have comprised…or even who Morris might have been in this context – Colin perhaps?
This was a big deal for me. I loved that hi-fi. Dad loved that hi-fi. I think he spent quite a lot of money on it, perhaps unaware that there were desperately difficult financial times just around the corner for him. Dad prioritised the hi-fi over the purchase of a colour TV – the latter purchase being beyond his means for a year or so after the purchase of the hi-fi.
I’m all of a quiver having found an image of that wonderful beastie.
Not sure what I was doing with Subbuteo and/or the hi-fi that put mum in a peeve – presumably playing for too long and/or playing music too loud while playing for too long. Mum would need to get over that – such conduct, although not recommended to younger readers who might stumble across this piece, became quite common in our household.
The Next Week Including The Mikado With Trevor Tindale
Sunday, 17 March 1974-Classes good. Feld’s lunch. Home after Kalooki 3p.
Monday, 18 March 1974 – Drama play Sherlock Holmes. Cricket good. Waltons good.
Tuesday, 19 March 1974 – Art good. Classes good. Likely Lads good.
Wednesday, 20 March 1974 – Fives v good indeed. Mikado – Tindale, extremely good as Ko-Ko.
Thursday, 21 March 1974 – Classes good. Uncle Cyril for chess – nice one Cyril.
Friday, 22 March 1974 – Acted play. Drama v good. Stereo player v good.
Saturday, 23 March 1974 – 27th in class. In afternoon, listened to record player.
This lifted from the Alleyn’s performing arts book – hoping that Mike Jones might dig out the full programme
The Alleyn’s Performing Arts book suggests that the school’s Gilbert & Sullivan was revived around 1973, primarily by Iwan Davies and Trevor Tindale, with the blessing of the Music Master Frank “Pop” Kennard. The Mikado would have been the second production.
My memory is clear that the first G&S I ever saw was the Pirates of Penzance, but whether that was the Alleyn’s production (either in my first term or perhaps before I started but once it was known I was to join the school), or possibly a professional production with my parents, I cannot recall. I can clearly visualise Iwan Davies and Trevor Tindale in their Mikado roles. I remember my folks being very impressed with it and loving it myself.
I went on a bit of a G&S binge in the aftermath of this show, borrowing any G&S I could find in the Lambeth Public Library and scraping it onto reel-to-reel tape at a rather shocking 1.875 IPS speed, which rather defeats the object of having a classy amplifier and a decent quality reel-to-reel recorder, but there you go.
I’d love to hear and see more memories of this event and am hoping that Mike Jones can lay his hands on some additional bumf and perhaps share his own memories.
27th In Class
How did I come 27th in a class that only had 26 people in it? OK, maybe there were 29 people in the class. Perhaps counting things was part of my problem at that stage.
But actually I now would like to challenge the basis of that assessment. I know that 50 years have passed and that most people might have more important things to do than re-hash old scores…
…but I am not most people, am I?
I would like to know how this somewhat embarrassing position was assessed. There is no reference to exams in my diaries. Continuous assessment had surely not been invented back then. So how were the class positions determined? Mr Sandbrook might or might not choose to respond to this question.
Was this some sort of rating/ranking system based on the teachers’ assessment of our performance in each subject using that rather subjective method of allocating the letters A to E with pluses and minuses attached?
Did Sir (Mr Sandbrook) apply numerical scores to those modal assessment classifiers? If so, was he aware that the application of conventional quantitative statistical methods to qualitative modal data is flawed for oh so many reasons. Machine learning algorithms, which can help with this type of classification and prediction problem, were mostly yet to be postulated, let alone of practical use, in 1974.
Tuesday, 26 March 1974 – Art good. Classes good. Likely Lads v good.
Wednesday, 27 March 1974 – chemistry, good. Fives v good – Cookie won as usual !!!
Thursday, 28 March 1974 – broke up from school. G Jenny’s, missed classes, report q. good, art A- excellent.
Friday, 29 March 1974 – Uneventful, Andrew not available, wargame, Subbuteo, five-a-side cup snag.
Saturday 30 March 1974 – joined tennis club. Learnt forehand and backhand. Shopped in p.m.
I’m struggling to work out why I was so motivated to write down that I caught Nick Jarmany out at cricket. I don’t remember sporting rivalry (or indeed any rivalry) with Nick. Perhaps he had been doing very well in that particular game – the moment seeming noteworthy in that context. It’s a badge of honour, getting a sporting mention in my diaries, Nick. A badge of honour.
Interestingly, in the Wednesday entry, Alan Cooke finally gets the mention he deserves with respect to fives. My memory of it was that invariably won, although the diary documents a couple of (I suspect rare) Harris victories before this end of term confession.
Alleyn’s branded gloves hadn’t been invented back then
How did I get quite a good report for coming 27/29 in class? Sadly, mum threw away all of my old school reports without asking me if I wanted to keep them…”yes please, mum”, I’d have said…so the details are now lost in the mists of time.
I might politely ask Mr Sandbrook to try to replicate his summary in that end of term two school report, but I thought I’d ask Chat GPT to have a go first:
Despite ranking 27th in the class, Ian has shown commendable dedication and enthusiasm towards his studies and extra-curricular activities. While his academic performance may not currently reflect his efforts, his attitude towards learning is admirable. He has actively participated in various school activities, displaying a keen interest in broadening his horizons beyond the classroom. With continued perseverance and focus, Ian has the potential to improve his academic standing and excel in his studies. Keep up the good work and maintain your positive attitude towards learning.
Oooh, I rather like that. I feel inspired to buck up my ideas and work a bit harder next term. That report might even stave off my mum’s peevishness.
School’s Out
I love the reference to Andrew [Levinson] not being available and a Subbuteo five-a-side cup snag. Presumably the latter caused by the former, as there is no sign of anyone else to play with that day.
Contrast with “joining tennis club” the next day, which I am pretty certain also involved Andrew and Fiona Levinson, plus some other kids from our street. I have written a whole entry to commemorate the 50th anniversary of me starting tennis, as that feels rather important given the amount (and varieties) of tennis I have been playing avidly since that day.
