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.
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?
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