Reading pre-release while on holiday in Sri Lanka…tough job…
Before launching into a review of Gun Barrel Polka by David Seidel, I need to declare three material facts.
Firstly, David is a friend whom I have known for more than a quarter of a century. We did some work together, back in the day, and have even collaborated over writing some comedy. I take full responsibility for the worst excesses of our lyrics for “Casablanca The Musical”, not least “I Only Have Heils For You” and “The Ougadougou Choo Choo”. But I digress, not least because Gun Barrel Polka is far from comedy.
Secondly, Gun Barrel Polka is really not my kind of novel. I explained that to David, having read the synopsis, to which he said, “please read it and review it anyway, if you are willing to do so”, which of course I am.
Thirdly, I read Gun Barrel Polka while on holiday in Sri Lanka, mixing and matching the screen reading required with some physical book reading, which I find much easier on my eyes in bright light. The physical novels I read alongside Gun Barrel Polka were:
Rabbit Redux by John Updike;
Sabbath’s Theater by Philip Roth.
The juxtaposition of my choice of physical book novels with reading Gun Barrel Polka is interesting but also might lead to unfair comparisons. I don’t suppose that David Seidel is aspiring to Pulitzer Prizes and National Book Awards for fiction…just yet.
However, Gun Barrel Polka has several characteristics in common with the fiction of those two great writers. Set in the USA of today, Gun Barrel Polka explores several modern political and social tensions. Seidel does this in a similar manner to Updike’s juxtaposition of Harry ‘Rabbit’ Angstrom in several political eras across the Rabbit novels. Philip Roth also places his characters in societal context – especially in his later novels – Roth arguably piloted his migration to that political style in Sabbath’s Theater – especially Mickey Sabbath’s 1960s human rights / freedom of speech back story.
In Gun Barrel Polka, the narrative line takes us through several acts of random gun violence…plus more shooting that occurs as unintended consequences of attempts to reduce gun violence. At times in the novel, the killing and misery that ensues seems like a procession, such that the reader might even become numb to it. The final act of Hamlet came to my mind at one point, as the body count mounted.
The “random acts of loving kindness” promised in the synopsis seems, to me, less random and in many cases self-serving. The central characters are nearly all lawyers, which possibly explains the procedural and calculating ways in which they try to address their issues – both political and personal. If you want to read about random acts of ardour or random acts of lasciviousness, better you stick with Updike and Roth. I was oft reminded, while reading Gun Barrel Polka, of the wonderful Jackson Browne song, Lawyers In Love. If you are ready for a musical interlude, enjoy this embed.
The elephant in the room, for Gun Barrel Polka, is of course, James Madison’s Second Amendment to the United States Constitution: the right to bear arms. This piece of late 18th century US law, borrowed from English Common Law of the late 17th century, has been the source of much consternation in the USA in modern times, since random mass shootings became commonplace.
For me, by far the most interesting aspect of Gun Barrel Polka is the internal politics within and between US States when the fictional politicians and legal civil servants of Vermont try to mitigate the worst excesses of the Second Amendment. The scary part…and the part that especially rang true to me…was the almost complete inability for the Democrat and Republican political machines to communicate with each other, let alone collaborate and/or formulate bipartisan solutions to problems.
David Seidel hails originally from Canada, a nation that has similar levels of gun ownership to that in the USA yet somehow seems able to keep gun violence to much lower levels. In Gun Barrel Polka, David explores the profound societal and political flaws in the USA currently. The novel succeeds in illustrating those flaws, exploring, beyond the Second Amendment alone, the complex issues around gun ownership and gun laws.
Gun Barrel Polka is not a great novel, but it is a fascinating and important read for anyone who is intrigued by modern US society.
Gun Barrel Polka, David Seidel, Ace of Swords, 2026, ISBN 978-1834320052.For Amazon, click here – other book seller sources are available.
The Banksy Limitless exhibition collects a large number of Banksy works, plus other works inspired by Banksy, in a pop-up gallery in South Kensington, ironically on the site of a former Christies auction house.
Two Men’s Singles Semi-Finals & The Women’s Singles Final At Queen’s, 22 November 2025
Janie and I warmed up for this event by having our regular hour of “lawn” at Boston Manor, albeit at 10:00 rather than our regular hour of 11:00. We then hot-footed it (if you can hot-foot by car) to the flat dropping off some old computer equipment headed for charity, then picked up Janie’s flashy new specs, then got to The Queen’s Club about 30 or 40 minutes into the first match.
Simon Talbot-Williams greeted us both warmly from his stewarding position, while simultaneously telling me off “for being late”, before helping organise our seating.
Just as well we warmed up for the event, as the dedans gallery had a real chill breeze feel to it, despite the nicely positioned radiator near our feet.
Must have felt even colder up there in the “makeshift media gallery”.
We caught the end of the match between Nicky Howell and Rob Fahey. Then saw all of the match between John Lumley and Bryn Sayers.
After taking some tea and chatting with the assembled real tennis glitterati, Janie and I saw Claire Fahey’s historic win in the final against Tara Lumley.
Our first sight of women’s tennis played at the highest level
Historic, in that the women’s final hadn’t been at Queen’s for decades. We both thought that the format including both men’s and women’s matches was an excellent idea.
More of this men’s and women’s tennis on the same day, please, Janie and I say.
On searching on-line for the results, Google’s AI Overview, for once, has not hallucinated. The following summarises matters expertly.
Men’s (Open) Singles Semi-finals
Two Men’s Singles semi-final matches were played during the afternoon.
Fixture: N. Howell bt R. Fahey
Score: 6/2 6/2 6/5
Start Time: 2:00 PM
Fixture: J. Lumley bt B. Sayers
Score: 6/5 6/3 6/2
Start Time: 4:00 PM (approx)
Women’s Singles Final
Claire Fahey defeated Tara Lumley in the final match, which began at 6:45 PM.
Fixture: C. Fahey bt T. Lumley
Score: 6/0 6/0
What the AI cannot do is express how much we enjoyed our afternoon and early evening at Queen’s, watching high grade tennis. It’s just a shame it was unseasonably cold!
Victory In Australia by Richard Whitehead, MCC Library Book Club, Lord’s, 26 November 2025
Janie and I very much enjoy these library book club supper evenings. This one, at which Richard Whitehead discussed his book about the 1954/55 Ashes tour, might not have attracted our attention, but for Alan Rees (head librarian) taking pains to let me know how much he had enjoyed that book and was thrilled to have secured an evening with Richard.
Save the date…
said Alan a good few weeks before the evening was announced. Hence, once it was announced…we pounced to get tickets.
We were very glad we did. The food and company is always good. On this occasion, as a bonus, we found ourselves next to my real tennis pal of old, Jim Chaudry. Jim has been “off games” for some while now, but I occasionally see him at cricket and have spotted him a few times at the library book club dinners, but until this time, not at my table.
Jim knows how to hold his knife and fork, whereas…
The food was, as always, excellent. Janie went into full tilt food porn photo mode this time.
Both courses depicted on arrival at her place. Thanks, Janie.
As usual, after the talk, the Q&A, and the book signing, Janie and I went home thoroughly pleased and satisfied. That’s some of my holiday reading for our next trip sorted out for sure.
The 50 Most Ridiculous Ashes Moments, Dan Liebke & Alex Bowden, Affirm Press, 2025, EAN/UPC: 9781923135697, & In the Eye of the Typhoon: The Inside Story of the MCC Tour of Australia and New Zealand 1954/55, Frank Tyson, Parrs Wood Press, 2004, ISBN-13 : 978-1903158579
There is something faintly ridiculous about cricket books generally. I say that as a cricket lover, a book lover and, indeed, a cricket book lover. Most cricket books go into excruciating detail about something or another. Cricket loving, book loving folk don’t mind wallowing in such details, but that doesn’t detract from the intrinsic absurdity of cricket books.
One In The Eye
To be perfectly Frank with you…
For example, “In the Eye Of The Typhoon” by Frank ‘Typhoon’ Tyson. It is a first-hand, blow-by-blow account & photo-diary of the 1954/55 Ashes series. We get Tyson’s perspective on the tour; his activities and thoughts on and off the field. The book is neatly crafted and is a thoroughly enjoyable wallow.
One entertaining Tyson subplot is his tour romance, which he writes about in an unwittingly amusing, melodramatic style.
Thursday October 7th 1954…I have become very attached to a good-looking Sydney girl called Margaret, whom I met on our second day out of Tilbury. Our parting on the last evening on board was very emotional…I am looking forward, perhaps more eagerly than normal, to seeing her again in Sydney…
Thursday March 3rd 1955…Margaret was my first great love; indeed she was my first real girlfriend. In matters of the heart I was naïve until I met her…We agreed to keep in touch – but could we guarantee that some influence would not intervene? God knew!…Shall I see her again? I must.
Yet Tyson’s emotional parting with Margaret at Sydney airport did not prevent The Typhoon from making the lives of New Zealand cricketers hell for the rest of March 1955.
My favourite page in the whole book is the glossary of tour party nicknames on P259. The Boil, Kipper, Scrubs, The Whippet, Godders, and Woozer, to name but a few. Worth the price of admission alone, that page.
50 Most Ridiculous
“The 50 Most Ridiculous Ashes Moments” is an antidote to cricket book wallowing, much as Alex Bowden’s irreverent King Cricket website is an antidote to typical cricket journalism. Each of the 50 stories stands alone, giving the book a dipping rather than wallowing quality. I shall ration myself on these stories over the coming weeks, to help sustain my spirits during the inevitable emotional upheaval that the 2025/26 Ashes will bring.
The Ridiculous Ashes book pleases me more than the podcast for reasons beyond my preference for books over podcasts as a medium. The conceit of the podcast is to assess the most ridiculous moments in each Ashes test match from a particular Ashes series, eventually to award Ridiculous Ashes to the most ridiculous side. It is a fun idea but at times the structure of the “parlour game” detracts from the interesting, amusing and acerbic stories that Dan and Alex are discussing.
The book format liberates the prickly pair [did you see what I did there?] from game show style banter, combining their natural writing abilities to produce 50 well-crafted stories about bizarre happenings in the Ashes during the last 50 years. The book formula also enables Liebke & Bowden to broaden their coverage beyond that covered by the podcast, hence covering 50 years and covering both men’s and women’s Ashes.
I especially enjoyed the way they described the demise of the dozy England wicketkeeper-batsman who inadvertently strayed out of his ground to be run out in bizarre circumstances (Chapter 49). And no, that story is not the Jonny Bairstow crease-gate story, although that Jonny Bairstow story inevitably gets an outing in the book: Chapter 8.
I also like the fact that some of the chapters are not really moments, such as Chapter 10, which is a tour d’horizon of Ellyse Perry’s ridiculous Ashes career. That chapter, like several others, has an “Activity Corner” vignette which made me smile out loud.
Ridiculous Coincidence Corner
By complete coincidence, I took possession of both books at almost the exact same moment. Tom Carew Hunt very kindly handed me his father’s copy of “In the Eye Of The Typhoon” as I arrived at The Queen’s Club on 6 November for the Tennis & Rackets Association dinner we were both attending. 18:30 that was. When I got home, I picked up a message from Daisy, sent at that exact same time, to let me know that Alex Bowden’s ridiculous book had arrived.
Both books are enjoyable, albeit in such different ways. What a happy coincidence.
Oh, and 70 years ago to that very day, my parents got married, in the Empire Rooms, Tottenham Court Road – latterly a strip club named Spearmint Rhino. Now THAT coincidence really is platty joobs ridiculous.
We had hoped to see this exhibition/display before we went to the USA, but a glitch-ridden encounter with the V&A on-line booking system denied us that opportunity. The V&A tried to mollify us with a “take your pick” offer ahead of the next booking block, and we picked this Friday lunchtime slot.
A gift of sound and vision
The new V&A East Storehouse is an archive with some capacity for public displays, rather than an exhibition space in the style of the main V&A. While visitors are free to wander around the archive space and look at some artefacts up close…
…the “house rules” are very much archive rather than exhibition rules. All property, even flasks of water, must be left behind in lockers before entering the main area. This felt quite onerous to us – not least needing to do without water while we were inside but also 60% of the lockers were located either too high for us to reach or so low that more senior people might struggle to get down to that level. Naturally the middle-level lockers were all in use.
The David Bowie display is a fairly small area, somewhat akin to an exhibition but clearly oriented towards the fact that this is a Bowie archive that has been donated to the V&A.
Daisy’s Thin White Duchess poseJust for one day…Archives shelved, archives hanging…Fame puts you there where things are hollowPlus examples from the document archivesPlease lock me away…Fashion…turn to the left…fashion…turn to the right…
After the Bowie, we had a look around the rest of the place – well why not?
Clothworkers next door to the BowieNot exactly to our tasteModern kitchen ideas for our house makeover?Janie liked this glass chair…I didn’t.Whereas I liked these pieces…
The QR code system enabling us to look up items and sections was effective – both in the Bowie and (even more usefully) around the general archive.
Daisy admiring the daisy Glastonbury bin
Then, after all we’d bin through…
…a visit to the Cafe Garden next door for some coffee and a snack before heading home.
I can see the benefit of this new V&A archive for real design afficionados. But for fair weather design-istas like ourselves, I expect that visit to the V&A East Storehouse was a one-off.
If the cap Fitz…some beards simply defy description
This turned out to be a crazily busy day but very enjoyable.
With the weather now restored to dry…even borderline sunny, and thinking that we’d get no other chance for exercise, we took a long, photogenic cliff walk.
Here’s our route…except we cannot take the start of this route…
…traversing the island to the forty steps, then being re-routed as a small chunk of the rout just south of the forty steps is being repaired…
Salve Regina……hac lacrimarum valle
…but then walking the cliff route past The Breakers, as far as The Marbles, then returning via Bellevue Avenue.
Less than two hours but more than 90 minutes of walking. Lots of photos.
Then, quick shower and change and off to the Newport Casino Theatre where I was to deliver my “1875 And All That” talk.
Nigel (above) prepares to hand the baton to me…
My talk seemed to go down well. I heard no snoring, no walking out in disgust and people were polite enough to say that they had enjoyed it. Judith, Freddy’s mum, was especially effusive in her praise.
Judith, effusive.
Here’s the very paper I presented – I talked through a little more than half of this paper:
We enjoyed the whole afternoon of talks, although only I had remembered my jumper and Janie was feeling the cold more than me, so I let her use the jumper while I suffered in near silence about the cold. Near silence, I said.
As the weather had improved, Janie and I enquired about playing tennis on the grass, only to discover that the place was so very fully booked out on the Saturday that our only sensible slot was 17:00 that afternoon. We worked out that we could still see the museum, dash home to change, dash back, play an hour of lawn, dash back to change again and still get to the conference dinner on time. So we agreed to do that and I handed over an infeasible guest fee for an hour of lawn and a clutch of tennis balls.
Me & Jimmy Conners (above), Janie & Steffi Graf (below)We gave the museum and the hall of fame a solid but quick once over
The museum tour was very interesting – well laid out in the modern style and with more space available than we have at Lord’s for the cricket equivalent. The International Tennis Hall Of Fame gallery was a bit of a highlight. The opportunity to chat with some of the other speakers and attendees of the conference while milling around the gallery was also a highlight. Janie and I took it at fairly high speed though, to ensure that our timings would allow us to fit in the prized extra item of an hour of lawn.
Freddy grabbed us for this photo op. as we arrived courtside in our whites
We were back in our whites about 15 minutes ahead of our slot. Kim in the pro’s shop took pity on us and showed us to a court that we could use straight away. “Centre Court” (ie the middle one of three) at the side of the court tennis building. We very much enjoyed our hour, playing alongside a friendly bunch of regulars who made us feel very welcome. It was a great honour, privilege (and expense) to have been able to play on the grass at Newport. A big tick on the bucket list.
Exhausted, but unbowed, we returned to the apartment, showered and changed there, then on by Uber to the Stoneacre Brasserie, where we dined with the conference crowd.
Sitting nearest to me and Janie: Michael Wooldridge, Adam Inselbuch, Nigel a Brassard, Marc Lewinstein, and Marc’s dog. All made for excellent conversation apart from the dog, who was very well behaved such that I didn’t even notice their presence until the end of the meal.
With the pre-tennis match reception starting no earlier than 13:00 (we planned to arrive a little later than that) we had time to visit one of the nearer mansions, The Elms, during an ingeniously-picked break in the almost-relentless rain that morning.
Some of the regular houses on the way to the mansion were quite grand.
We found the inside of the mansion rather hideous in its ostentation and faux-baroque grandeur…
…although the kitchens and gardens made the visit seem very much worthwhile.
As seen in The Gilded Age, apparently.
We resolved to take in the other mansions, all of which must be similar in most ways, by dint of a well planned cliff and street walk the next day, weather permitting.
Despite not being drowned like rats that morning, we still freshened up and choose to Uber it to the Newport Club rather than risk getting soaked in our glad rags.
We enjoyed a fine lunch and then witnessed, from the Club Room, Camden Riviere winning the World Championship again by taking three of the day’s four sets to complete the task 7-1 in just two days.
Want to see more than just a couple of photos? You can see all of the play on our day by clicking the link below. You can occasionally see me and Janie sitting up in the top right hand corner of the club room:
John Lumley put up a fine fight on that second day. It was a great honour and privilege to attend that day and to be on the court itself to see the trophy presented.
John Lumley (above) came an honourable second on Day Two.Tony Hollins rounded off the formalities
We returned to our apartment to change into more casual clothes, then went out to try a local restaurant with a good reputation for seafood – The Moorings. Obviously super-popular, even though it’s was out of season they had no tables, but could offer us full menu at the bar, which was very well appointed.
We ended up being served by a very interesting barman/maitre d, who seemed a bit suspicious of us at first, but once Janie asked him a question about the NFL football he became our best friend.
“Let me explain the offensive backfield in motion and offside penalty rules to you…”
Superb clam chowder and lobster rolls, with a fine Napa Valley Chardonnay. A very enjoyable evening.
We took a gazillion pictures that day. If you want to wade through all of that eye candy, then click the Flickr link here or below.
Apparently they had almost no rain at all in Newport for months, but the forecast had promised and indeed delivered two rainy days to greet our arrival.
I had told Freddy Adams in advance that we would not attend the morning session of the history conference, as we would need the time to catch up on sleep and orient ourselves. That was indeed a wise decision. We zombied around the apartment for a while and looked a lot of things up.
Then, late morning, we decided to walk the long way round to the conference despite the rain. Mr Google told me that the Newport Mansion Preservation Society offices would be open and that mansion was not too far from our place and then not too far from the Newport Casino.
Unfortunately the information was incorrect and the offices are no longer open. Of course it was possible to arrange mansion views on-line, but my hoped-for old-fashioned leaflet and building with friendly face-to-face advice was not to be.
Looking like drowned rats, we arrived at the International Tennis Hall of Fame‘s Newport Casino Theatre well ahead of the afternoon sessions, which were very interesting, despite the cold inside the heavily air-conditioned theatre itself. Note to self – bring jumper on Friday whatever the weather.
The rain had stopped by late afternoon, so rather than hang around we chose to return to our apartment and freshen up/change ahead of the evening’s art exhibition at the Newport Art Museum, about which we had learnt a fair bit in that afternoon conference session.
That evening turned out to be quite a highlight, especially for Janie who was hugely impressed by the show, as was I.
In particular Bill Sullivan’s cartoonish and Bauhaus-inspired works…
Bauhaus or Bau-mouse?More lookalikes – a pair of Micky Mouse tennis players
…plus some of Freddy’s own pictures, Beth Curren’s pieces, Charles Johnstone’s photographs and works by Robert Manice…and others.
Two of Beth Curren’s piecesTwo inspired pictures (photo art) by FreddyThree of Charles Johnstone’s picturesRobert Manice explaining his methods to JanieThe artists for these two classic works did not show up at the preview/launch event, for some reason.
Feeling very tired, we skipped the informal dinner gathering and went for a very casual quick bite at the Mountain Moose Noodle bar across the street from our apartment, then an early night.
154 New Cavendish Street (formerly 7 Upper Marylebone Street), 30 July 2025
An Open, Illustrated Letter To The Thomas Paine Historical Association & English Heritage
Synopsis: Previous research by the Thomas Paine Society in the UK identified 148 New Cavendish Street (Highwood House) as the site of the house 7 Upper Marylebone Street, occupied by Thomas Paine while he wrote large chunks of The Right of Man. (See Barb Jacobson’s otherwise excellent article in Fitzrovia News from November 2010). However, my subsequent research (2022 and 2025) has uncovered incontrovertible evidence that the numbering of Upper Marylebone Street in Horwood’s Plan, upon which the 148 New Cavendish Street theory is based, was in error. In fact, 7 Upper Marylebone Street is now 154 New Cavendish Street, one of the three original Georgian houses still standing on that block. That house should be eligible for an English Heritage Blue Plaque in honour of Thomas Paine. I urge The Thomas Paine Historical Association to liaise with English Heritage over this matter.
Half Of The Harris Family From Number 4. Dad, Grandma Anne & Uncle Michael, c1925.
My father’s family settled at 4 Upper Marylebone Street a few years after arriving in this country. My father was born in that house in 1919, as was his brother Michael a couple of years later. The “Harris” family moved south around 1930.
While trawling all the available information sources for Upper Marylebone Street, now the eastern end of New Cavendish Street, I uncovered electoral rolls from 1935 and 1939. These provided incontrovertible evidence of the renaming and renumbering, as that was done between those two electoral rolls, as almost every house in that block (ironically, the one my family had lived in was empty in 1939) had at least one or two occupants who spanned those electoral roll years.
From the 1935 electoral rollFrom the 1939 electoral roll
Mapping the two rolls:
1 Upper Marylebone Street became 168 New Cavendish Street – see Emma Chandler and Minnie Morris
2 Upper Marylebone Street became 166 New Cavendish Street – see John and Anna Bertha Sarah Wright
3 Upper Marylebone Street became 164 New Cavendish Street – see Charles & Clara Lohman and William Smith
4 Upper Marylebone Street became 162 New Cavendish Street – by inference, as empty in 1939
5 Upper Marylebone Street became 160 New Cavendish Street – by inference, as empty in 1935 and 1939
6a Upper Marylebone Street became 158 New Cavendish Street – see Dora Cante (Cawte) & Kathleen MacDonald
6 Upper Marylebone Street became 156 New Cavendish Street – see John William Hawkes & Pauline Hawkes
7 Upper Marylebone Street became 154 New Cavendish Street – see Hyman & Sara Gilbert, Charles & Florence Emily Jeanette Esser, George Henry & Elizabeth Emily Wheeler
8 Upper Marylebone Street became 152 New Cavendish Street – see Elizabeth Olwen & Ionwerth Lumley Jenkins
9 Upper Marylebone Street became 150 New Cavendish Street – see John Spenser & Annie Catherine Manning, and Frederick George Gransden.
Here are a couple of pictures I took in 2022 of the block of houses that was Upper Marylebone Street:
1 to 4 (plus the edge of 5) Upper Marylebone Street. Now 168 to 162 (plus the edge of 160) New Cavendish StreetEdge of 6, then 7 to 9 Upper Marylebone Street, then edge of Highwood House. Now edge of 156 to 150 New Cavendish Street, plus edge of 148 (Highwood House).
How could Horwood’s plan of 1792-1799 be in error? House numbering on Horwood’s plan is not 100% reliable and I believe this particular error is plain to see in the light of the other evidence I present:
Extract from Horwood’s Plan
Horwood leaves the three most easterly units on Upper Marylebone Street unnumbered, numbering the three most westerly units. Those three westerly units, together with an unnumbered unit from Ogle Court, subsequently became Highwood House.
It is clear from the renaming and renumbering in the 1930s that the three most easterly houses were numbered, 1, 2 & 3 Upper Marylebone Street. It is also more likely that unnumbered units were of lesser quality, more readily subsumed into a block of flats.
Barb Jacobson mentions evidence from tax records as well, which I have not seen, but it is quite possible that the three unnumbered units were part of the same demise as 9 Upper Marylebone Street – such detail would not be shown in tax records.
Still, I wanted more evidence from the Georgian period if I could find it. I turned to another great early trove of London street by street information: Lockie’s 1810 Topography of London.
Here is the relevant extract:
In other words, the small square behind No 10 Upper Marylebone Street could be found by passing three doors on the left after 9 Upper Marylebone Street. The three unnumbered doors were the three most westerly doors on the block, next to number 9.
I believe that all of this evidence is incontrovertible and points to the fact that the current house 154 New Cavendish Street is the house in which Thomas Paine wrote large chunks of Rights Of Man, as deliciously described in Barb Jacobson’s essay.
Sorry to be a Paine, but common sense suggests that we get this right…or even rights
I meant to write all of this up in 2022, but life intervened and other matters prevailed.
I told Ben the Thomas Paine story and he politely told me off for not having written it up. Actually, in truth, I told myself off while telling him the tale and he agreed with me that I deserved telling off and that the matter needed putting right.
As it happened, I found myself very near the scene with a bit of time on my hands on 30 July 2025.
The Harris place, now 162, no longer boarded up in July 2025 – instead an art gallery named Night Café. My artist/photographer dad would have approved.Two sides of 154 New Cavendish Street, now the Cracked Coffee Company
Thomas Paine would surely have approved of his former writing digs now being a coffee shop. It was in such places that his writings were most often disseminated in the late 18th century.
It was near to closing time and I was interrupting a deep conversation between that manager (who turned out to be Romanian) and a rather excitable Russian mathematician named Yuri. They both seemed fascinated by the Thomas Paine connection.
We all three tried to debate matters of great social, moral and geopolitical import in the 30 minutes before closing time. We thought it was what Thomas Paine would have wanted. We even made some progress, or at least came to the conclusion that some social progress has been made since Thomas Paine’s time there in the 1790s and since my family’s time there 100 years ago.
I’m rambling.
To summarise, I believe I have uncovered incontrovertible evidence that the site of Thomas ‘Clio’ Rickman’s house, 7 Upper Marylebone Street, where Thomas Paine stayed and wrote the second part of The Rights Of Man in the early 1790s, is now 154 New Cavendish Street, which is the original Georgian building in which those important events occurred.
I believe that 154 New Cavendish Street should be eligible for an English Heritage Blue Plaque based on the evidence I have presented in this paper. I urge the Thomas Paine Historical Association formally to request such a plaque for that building. If I can provide any further assistance in this matter, please let me know. I’d love to attend the unveiling of the Blue Plaque, if the timing permits.
Postscript: Hair Today & Gone Tomorrow In 7 Upper Marylebone Street
When conducting my 2022 research, my cousin Angela, whose memory can stretch back to the 1950s and 1960s, reminded me that the Gilbert family, who lived at 7 Upper Marylebone Street, were great friends of our family and remained friends for many decades after my family moved on.
Angela remembers visiting the Gilbert family (or, as my father would affectionately call them, “The Giblets”), at 154 New Cavendish Street and believes that at least some of the Gilbert family remained there into the late 1950s or even the 1960s. Theirs was a barbershop, so it is very likely indeed that my dad’s haircut in the picture above, and that of Michael, were from that very shop.
That dad haircut would have been about 100 years before I sat in the same shop, drinking coffee and trying to put the world to rights through lively discussion.
Thomas Paine might have had a thing or two to say about forcing a kid to have his hair cut against his will.
“A long habit of not thinking a thing wrong gives it a superficial appearance of being right.” Thomas Paine. Don’t tell me he wasn’t talking about involuntary hair cutting.
The irony of the Gresham Society AGM being held underground in the basement meeting room of Barnard’s Inn Hall, ahead of the Provost’s lecture entitled, Galileo’s Journey to the Underworld: The Case for Interdisciplinary Thinking, was not wasted on me.
Obviously the Society couldn’t go through all that again, so they opted for high tea and some very interesting updates from the new top team at Gresham College: Professor Robert Allison, Professor Sarah Hart & Richard Smith. All had very interesting things to day.
Bob Allison, in particular, teased us with a potted academic biography – basically he is a geographer with expertise in landfalls and stuff like that – so what is the connection between that discipline and his accidental occasional career as an expert witness in high-profile murder cases? We managed to winkle out some intriguing answers.
There should be at least one Gresham lecture in those fascinating topics, although Bob show’s some reluctance, as Chairman, to step up to the Gresham College podium himself.
Tim Connell thought he was doing a smart thing by peppering the AGM material with the updates from the college top team, making it impossible for me to do my usual thing of timing the AGM itself and challenging Tim’s assertion that he can get the main business done in less than 10 minutes.
That was a shame, because I suspect that on this occasion Tim really did keep the substantive business down to less than 10 minutes. Tim missed a sitter by dodging the time & motion aspect.
By the time we emerged from the Barnard’s In Hall underworld, after some high tea and further chat, the early evening was cool enough for some pleasant further chat in the courtyard before attending the Provost’s lecture. Most but not all of the attendees for the meeting stayed for the lecture, but some were unable to do so.
Professor Sarah Hart’s lecture was absolutely fascinating. If you missed it live, you can still of course see it. Indeed, if you visit the Gresham College website you can see lectures going back into the dim and distant past; even the couple that I gave “back in the day”.
