I had invited my extant (and soon to be ex) squeeze to the last night and the after show party. She told me she was especially impressed with Nathan Ariss’s Feste – a perfectly reasonable review, as I recall his performance was somewhat of a highlight. But at the party she seemed to put quite a lot of effort into letting Nathan know how impressed she had been. Nathan seemed in no rush to restore the natural dating order of things either. I let the girl know what I thought and I think that might have been my penultimate date with her. And it was a really really serious relationship – it had been going on for at least 5 or 6 weeks by then so was probably our 8th or 9th date.
I’m over it now. I really am.
I shared this recollection with the Alleyn’s Facebook group and made my peace with Nathan Ariss all these years later, not that there was ever an absence of peace at the time; I’m sure he was blissfully unaware of the matter back then.
Indeed, reflecting on the matter decades later, Nathan confused my lass with some other lass who had chatted him up/been chatted up by him at that party.
Malvolio (Martin Brassell), Sir Toby Belch (Chris Grant) & Fabian (David Wellbrook). Thanks to Paul Hamer for extracting from Scriblerus.
Squeaky Newton (John Newton, the Deputy Head) tapped me up for this production, but I didn’t want to act again after the Andorra experience, which I had enjoyed but which had convinced me that, while I loved theatre, the boards weren’t really for me. But Squeaky persevered and suggested that I help with the production behind the scenes. I realised that I wanted to do that. He also suggested that I take a small part, Valentine, otherwise I’d feel a bit spare on the nights of the actual show.
Then, with various droppings out (Mark Stevens was originally cast as Antonio) I ended up with two parts and a fairly sizeable one in Antonio with only about four week’s notice for that one.
Meanwhile, I was so blasé about this production I didn’t mention it in my diary at all until a passing mention of “rehearsal” on Friday 17 November before going on to the grandmothers’ (yes, that apostrophe is in the right place, I did the rounds that night, “G Jenny for dinner, then on to G Anne”) places.
Occasional mentions of rehearsals for the rest of November, then best part of 2 weeks with no diary entries at all – very rare – but I guess the play and my other commitments were keeping me a bit too busy.
Next entry is 8 December “rehearsal for play till late”, then:
10 December “dress rehearsal went quite well for 12th Night”,
11 December “day of ignoring school play completely” (not really completely, because I mention the play in my diary entry),
12 December “12th Night matinee then on to BBYO (youth club) with makeup on still”,
13 December “day off from play”,
14 December “12th Night first proper night, very good”,
15 December “most important night of play – went brilliantly”,
16 December “went to school with Julie – last night of play – party afterwards which went on until one”.
Two more recollections about the production itself. Neil Kendrick, who was one of the officers, discombobulated one night and forgot to say the “away sir”…or whatever line it was that got Paddy Gray, me and him off the stage. I recall that Paddy and I needed to concoct some ad lib business to get the three of us the heck off the stage that night!!
Because I was late to the part of Antonio, I had limited time to learn lines and rehearse the part. Squeaky had also choreographed a brief sword fight with Sir Toby Belch (Chris Grant) before the law arrives, for which Chris and I were under-rehearsed.
One night, I think the first proper performance, unsurprisingly the fight went awry. Perhaps I got over-excited and forced too hard, or perhaps Chris wasn’t holding on tight enough to his sword. It’s too late now for blame or recriminations. Chris went on to be head boy and on the Board of Sport England, so let’s guess it was my fault.
Anyway, Chris’s sword flew out of his hand and over the edge of the stage. I remember listening out for a yelp from an impaled member of the audience, but I don’t think the sword had actually gone very far. Still, there we were, Chris and me, all dressed up, no place to go with our fight. The law weren’t expecting to come on to stop the fight for another 30 seconds or so. Another ad-lib classic, mercifully lost to posterity.
“Did you get good notices?” I hear you cry. Pretty good, it turns out. My recollection was that I had been damned with some faint praise, but in November 2020 Paul Hamer (thanks, Paul) dug out and dusted off his Scriblerus (as it were) to uncover the following rather charming notice by Chris Chivers, an English master who did not generally look kindly upon my slovenly approach to formal grammar.
With many thanks also to Mike Jones, who somehow survived being my form master and teaching me geography in the third year, preserved the programme and uploaded it to our Alleyn’s Facebook Group.
A couple of recent happenings and one imminent happening at the time of writing, mid-October 2017, triggered this early romance memory and some musical connections.
The imminent thing is the pilot of a new piece on Halloween Night 2017 (I don’t think we should read anything into the date) by my old school friend, Rohan Candappa. Rohan describes his nascent piece thus:
What I’m going to perform is a show called ‘What Listening To 10,000 Love Songs Has taught Me About Love’. It’s an exploration of love, and music, and how the two intertwine. it’s also about how our lives have a soundtrack. And how the songs on that soundtrack can both contain and convey so much meaning, so much of who we are.
In one of my party pieces, describing my November 1978 party, I alluded to my progression, at that very party, from random tonsil hockey player to a somewhat steadier approach to romance.
The other recent event which helped conjured up these vivid 1978 memories is more obscure. Janie and I have been listening to John Shuttleworth’s Lounge Music on Radio 4 / iPlayer. It is very silly, but Janie and I enjoy the nonsense and of course novelty/comedy music has been very much my thing since I was a youngster. I only recently discovered the fact that John Shuttleworth is the alter-ego of Graham Fellows, who first found fame as Jilted John, back in that very same autumn of 1978.
I was relentlessly teased at the time by friends who knew I was “going steady” with “a girl, her name is Julie…” with excerpts from both sides of the Jilted John record.
Now look, I must be fair on my old friends from Streatham BBYO (the youth club where Julie and I hung out in those days) and my old friends from Alleyn’s School. If one of my pals had been following, almost word for word, the trajectory of Jilted John’s hapless romances, I’d have been up there leading the teasing myself.
But the upshot is, when I look back on the soundtrack of that first steady romance of mine, the only music I can truly connect with it is that Jilted John record.
Perhaps that Jilted John record really is an “exploration of love, and music, and how the two intertwine”?
Or perhaps in my case it “contains and conveys so much meaning, so much of who I am.”
If so, oh dear.
Anyway, try both sides of the record; I must admit to enjoying hearing both again after all this time.
Parenthetically, I’m sure I can hear the riff from the 1980 classic, “Stand Down Margaret” by The Beat in “Going Steady”. Stand Down Margaret has its own place in my life’s soundtrack, a little bit later in my young life, from the University days.
Also parenthetically, Going Steady was originally the A-Side of the record…
…but the Jilted John side went down better on radio play and became the A-side. The “Julie” story is within the better known side of the record – Jilted John:
Yet, so many years on, I struggled to remember much detail about the day of the theatre visit itself. My diary is not much help:
Thursday: Went to Curtain Theatre – Hillel House – Olivier Theatre. Great day.
So there you have it. Great day. What else would I need to write down? After all, it was such a memorable day I would remember every intricate detail – right? Wrong.
I am writing this Ogblog piece on 12 December 2018, the morning before I shall see The Double Dealer again, for the first time in over 40 years. I might recover some more memories of this 1978 day while watching at the Orange Tree Theatre, but I doubt it.
So I decided to “shout out” to my old school mates yesterday, hoping that some would chip in with memories of their own. That proved to be a good shout. Here’s Simon Ryan – who in fact shared lots of memories of our Lower 6th drama course – several of which will pop up in other Ogblog pieces in the fullness of time:
The trip to the National Theatre was a Thursday afternoon matinee at the National Theatre’s Olivier Theatre. Dorothy Tutin had a lead role. The supporting actors from the afternoon’s main show, included Gawn Grainger and Glyn Grain (Duncan Foord and I laughed at them rather than with them, I remember).
It was most definitely part of the Drama AO level course run by Mike Lempriere.
Can’t remember the details about other schools attending.
I remember Dan O’Neill knew the guy who gave us the backstage tour and relayed to us that he needed us to give him a favourable review to help him out. (Dan O’Neill’s elder brother, Hugh and the guy who ran the Bear Pit whose name eludes me, (Stephen Fry? ) but who looked rather like a Restoration fop with long curly black hair, both worked at the NT which is why he had an inside track.
I thought that Simon meant John Fry (not Stephen). John was the Journeyman in the Bear Pit’s production Andorra with us earlier that yearand no doubt went on to further Bear Pit glories later. I didn’t recall the foppish hair…probably because Simon was thinking of Tom Fry. Robert Kelly recalls:
The Bear Pit guy was Tom Fry (not Stephen Fry) and he had a younger brother John… Tom Fry was just as you describe, I thought he was the coolest thing I had ever seen when I first saw him. In fact he may still be…
It is interesting that Simon particularly remembers Dorothy Tutin‘s role. I did remember that, but I particularly remember the production for Ralph Richardson, not least because my parents went on and on about it being such an honour for me to see Ralph Richardson perform on the stage, albeit in his dotage.
Coincidentally, I have recently come across Ralph Richardson in a different context; on of the tennis professionals at Lord’s pointed out to me the similarity between my real tennis bag and that of Sir Ralph’s as exhibited in the main reception at Lord’s:
Sir Ralph’s kit. The legend with the exhibit reads, “…Although not a very gifted player, Sir Ralph was a devotee of real tennis…”My kit. Mercifully, no legend provided with my exhibit.
But I digress. My point really is…what a cast! I mean, yes I know I am about to shout, WHAT A CAST!
Here are just some of the names (beyond Dorothy Tutin and Ralph Richardson) from the cast list who, in my view, either were or went on to be stars of stage and screen:
Nicky Henson
Dermot Crowley
Judi Bowker
Brenda Blethyn
Sara Kestelman
Robert Stephens
Michael Bryant
Janet Whiteside
Naturally, I am unable to assess how good a production or collection of performances that really was – it was the first time I had seen a major production of anything. I was completely star struck and stage struck by the whole experience. I thought it was simply the most amazing thing I had ever seen on the stage. Frankly, at that time, it unquestionably was. I guess I would be still be thrilled by that production if I could see it now.
Here’s Jerry Moore, talking about the Drama course generally as well as his memory of that particular outing:
It was an enjoyable course and really developed my enthusiasm for the theatre. Mike [Lempriere] was an excellent teacher but I remember he didn’t like Dorothy Tutin.
The other thing I have done, prior to seeing the play again in December 2018, is actually read the whole play, for the first time.
What a simple, singular, linear plot. Just hints of subplot – Lady Pliant’s intrigues (although they are all connected to the main plot) and the parenthetic dalliance between Brisk and Lady Froth – with which I had so much fun a few weeks earlier at the rehearsal rooms. But oh so simple a storyline for a play of that period.
Congrieve recognises the simplicity in his (typically late 17th Century style) self-effacing dedication. To be fair, he was only 24 when he wrote this play and I think I can see signs of greater things to come.
The music in the 1978 production was a new score by Harrison Birtwistle. I cannot find a source for that, but here is the overture from original score, by Henry Purcell:
I’d love to hear more memories and recollections, either from people who were part of our school party or indeed anyone else who remembers this production.
To echo Jerry Moore’s words, this was one of the main events that forged my lifelong enthusiasm for and love of the theatre. I realise that I was incredibly privileged to be allowed this experience and shall always be grateful for it.
I had a strange Alleyn’s School memory flash this morning (26 April 2017) while walking between meetings.
It must have been triggered by a conversation over the weekend in which a French gentleman named Bertrand was mentioned. I started to refer to the gentleman as Plastic Bertrand, unwittingly. (Yes, I know Plastic Bertrand is Belgian).
Then the memory flash. Summer 1978. A few weeks before our French ‘O’ level.
Our French teacher, the late lamented Trevor Tindale, had clearly become aware that the song “Ça plane pour moi” by Plastic Bertrand was riding high in the pop charts.
Naturally our ‘O’ level chances would be enhanced if we understood the idioms in the lyrics of that song. Also our grades might be enhanced if we thought carefully about improving the lyrics’ dodgy grammar and Franglais.
So we spent a few minutes in class deconstructing Ça plane pour moi.
Please don’t quiz me now on all the nuances of all the words and phrases. I don’t want to shame other less able students.
But still I should in all modesty report that I’m pretty sure I still know what “wham, bam, mon chat splatch” means. I can also make a pretty good fist of translating, “you are the king of the divan”.
I’m guessing c5 June 1978, as the song didn’t reach the top 10 until the preceding (half term) week and I’m fairly sure Trevor didn’t lighten the tone of the class this way just before the ‘O’ level.
If anyone else remembers this happening, I’d love to read some comments on it.
To jog memories further, here is a video of Plastic Bertrand singing the song with the lyrics all over the screen:
My urge to write this posting emerged unexpectedly today (5 May 2016) after an emergency trip to the Retro Shop to try to find an appropriate pair of trousers for a 1960’s party.
Result: success, before you ask. Bright red, before you follow-up with the obvious next question.
The Retro Shop is at 28 Pembridge Road and the likely source of the party trousers was the basement of that shop. Despite its change of purpose within the “Exchange Empire”, I recognised the space immediately as the old bargain basement of Record and Tape Exchange. I inhabited that basement a great deal in my youth. Initially and several times subsequently, those visits were with Paul Deacon.
It was probably the pull of Record and Tape Exchange and my resulting familiarity with Notting Hill Gate that drew me to the neighbourhood in the late 1980s when ready to find my own place. With the benefit of hindsight, a most fortuitous draw.
But when did those visits start? I remember visits to The Slipped Disc in Clapham Junction with Paul perhaps as early as 1976 and certainly 1977. I’ll write that up separately once I have researched it.
But it isn’t until 1978 that I mention Record and Tape Exchange in my diary. 29 April 1978 to be precise.
Saturday 29 April – went to Jumbly’s, Record Exchange & Portobello with Paul.
Paul might remember what Jumbly’s is/was – I certainly don’t.
But I think our first attempt to go to Notting Hill Gate was a couple of weeks earlier during the school holidays. This entry from 12 April has got my brain ticking.
Wednesday 12 April – went out with Paul – bit of a disaster.
I have a vague memory of a day out with Paul when we were attempting to see Portobello and these second hand record shops we’d heard about, but somehow we got hopelessly lost and ended up wandering aimlessly around West Kensington and Olympia, until we returned home exhausted and unsatisfied. Paul might be able to fill in the details.
At the time I probably thought that any blame for such a “disaster” must rest with Paul. But nearly forty years subsequent experience of my personal geographical challenges suggests that the fault must have been at least as much, if not more, mine. The sat nav might have been invented just for me.
One more intriguing diary entry a few months later, but not (I believe) to do with Paul:
Saturday 29 July 1978 – Lazy day. Went to Record and Tape Exchange,
Very pithy. Doesn’t reveal much at all. I am pretty sure this must have been the day that I went up to Notting Hill Gate with a young lady known as Fuzz, with whom I’d had a gentle squeeze at Anil & Anita Biltoo’s party a couple of weeks before. This visit was especially memorable because it was a hot summer day and Fuzz became overwhelmed by the mustiness and dustiness of that basement, fainted, banged her head and needed to be revived by worried staff in the shop.
But apart from that, Mr Harris, how was your hot date?
I’m going to guess that I hadn’t been entirely straightforward with my parents (in particular my mum) with all the details of where I was going/had been and with whom, hence the pithy entry in the diary.
I am delighted to report that health and safety has improved a little at the 28 Pembridge Road basement in the past 38 years. Today it still had a musty, dusty atmosphere, but it was much mitigated by the back door being open to let in some fresh air.
Meanwhile, to support the comment below (triggered by a delightful Facebook message exchange with Paul) – here is the first page of my Record and Tape Exchange Transaction notes – there are pages and pages of them gathering dust in a file under the bed:
I got involved with “proper drama” at Alleyn’s for a couple of productions. Andorra by Max Frisch was the first of them, when I was just 15. Here are my diary extracts.
The first block, from January, shows little emotion or detail at having got a decent part in a Bear Pit production:
Friday 13 January 1978, Got a talking part in the school play – I’m the innkeeper – V pleased,
16 January 1978, should have rehearsed – cancelled,
17 January 1978, first Andorra rehearsal,
20 January 1978, rehearsed for Andorra, 23 January 1978, rehearsed for Andorra,
24 January 1978 Andorra rehearsal,
26 January 1978, rehearsed for Andorra,
27 January 1978, rehearsed for Andorra,
30 January 1978, rehearsed for Andorra,
31 January 1978, Andorra rehearsal.
Two weeks in, by the start of February, I’m a critic as well as a performer. Didn’t I know about hubris? I was way overconfident anyway – “perfected” is not a term I would ever use now:
Thursday 02 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra – OK,
03 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra – OK,
05 February 1978, first Sunday rehearsal for Andorra – not bad,
06 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra,
07 February 1978, Andorra rehearsal – good,
09 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra – good – seems to be OK,
10 February 1978, rehearsed in evening for Andorra,
12 February 1978 rehearsal for Andorra in afternoon – a good one,
13 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra – not bad,
14 February 1978, scene 11 of Andorra perfected.
Matters were bound to take a turn for the worse after that and so they did:
Friday 15 February 1978, Dennis [Galvin] rushed to hospital last night with colitis – Mick Lemp [Michael Lempriere] has taken over,
16 February 1978, rehearsed for Andorra – not bad rehearsal but still looks poor,
17 February 1978, field day and rehearsal,
19 February 1978, rehearsal cancelled as Mick Lemp visits relatives in Exeter,
20 February 1978, Mick stuck in snowdrift, Dan [Shindler] in bed with flu, disaster for play,
21 February 1978, Rehearsed all day for Andorra – Mick & Dan & Den all absent,
22 February 1978, flop dress rehearsal this evening – does not look good.
But the show had to go on:
Thursday 23 February 1978, Yesterday’s flop dress rehearsal lead to an almost empty house [tonight] watching a great performance,
24 February 1978, 2nd night of Andorra – even better than last night – 3/4 house – enjoyed it,
25 February 1978, Last night of Andorra – 7/8 house – performance good – party afterwards – got drunk.
I’m pretty sure my parents came to see Andorra on the middle (Friday) night of the run. And I’m fairly sure the following dialogue (or something like it) took place on the drive home after the show.
MUM: I wasn’t very impressed by some of your school chums in the audience behind us.
ME: What happened, Mum?
MUM: Well, during the interval one of them said to his pals, “I’m looking forward to the bit where Harris has to run around the stage yelling ‘I’m not a Jew, I’m not a Jew.” Then they were giggling. I wasn’t going to let that pass without comment.
ME: Oh, God, Mum, what did you say to them?
MUM: I turned around and asked them why that was so funny. One of the boys explained, “because Harris is a Jew. But he has to run around the stage saying “I’m, not a Jew”. Then the boys giggled some more.
ME: …and then…
MUM: I said, “I’m well aware of all that. I’m his mother and I’ve helped him to learn his lines. I’m just trying to understand what makes it funny.” They went very quiet after that.
ME: Oh, Mum. I’m going to get mercilessly teased on Monday when I get back to school. Or worse. Why couldn’t you just let it go?
DAD: I knew it. I could have told you he’d be upset.
To be fair on the poor boys involved (and I do wonder who they might have been – any confessions?) it was an ironic, rather funny matter. Indeed, with the benefit of hindsight, my casting in the role of the Innkeeper might well have been based more on my physiognomy than my stagecraft. In any case, we cast had all had a bit of a laugh about the irony of me yelling “I’m not a Jew” during rehearsals and I saw little malice in the remarks as reported by my mum.
But to be fair on my mum, although I did get some serious ribbing on the Monday (as recorded in my diary), it was not at all to do with my mother’s intervention. Indeed the poor boys who got my mother’s tongue-lashing were probably more embarrassed than I was about that matter.
No-one would relish a tongue lashing from my mum. Cruel spectacles and cut glass voice to go with them.
No, the ribbing I received resulted from reports of my drunkenness at the after show party on the Saturday.
As to the exact details of my ribbing-inducing party antics, I recall very little. I do remember drinking far too much cheap party cider – a once-in-a-lifetime mistake (drinking cheap cider, not the occasional over-drinking). I think the party was at Tiggy’s house, mostly in a rather large garage/out-house. Or am I am confusing the Andorra party with the Twelfth Night party?…
Others who were a bit older (I was only 15-and-a-half) and a bit wiser (almost everyone else who was there) might recall the Andorra after show party better.
Still, my mother’s parental intervention was a pretty cringe-making one.
Writing forty years after the events (January 2018), I find it hard to recall clearly my jubilant mood in early January 1978.
I returned from my first BBYO Convention is very high spirits.
January 1 – Finished convention. Came home late in evening – had the most terrific time overall.
Indeed, the language in my diary for those two weeks is relentlessly upbeat. Here are the pages. I’ll translate the relevant bits later, for those who struggle to read my beautiful but slightly unconventional calligraphy:
I was a fairly positive kid, but some of the language doesn’t really sound like me – or certainly doesn’t sound like the far more retiring 1977 me. Especially the material relating to club/BBYO:
10 January 1978 – Gave talk at BBYO with Graham on the cartoon. Went down well
Graham Majin and I made a couple of cartoon films in the school holidays 1976 (Basher Rasher) and 1977 (Speare Trek). There’ll be more on Ogblog about those eventually – for the time being click here for a bit more on that.
11 January 1978 – …Committee meeting of BBYO – Fantastic work done, though force 12 gails [sic – surely gales?]
I’m not sure what the “fantastic work done” at the Streatham BBYO Committee might have been that night. My guess is that I was asked to take on some more responsibility for running the club and that I was very pleased with the outcome.
I’m trying to remember who might have been at that committee meeting – an early, perhaps my first, committee meeting. Dave Young I think was in charge by then, although he didn’t go to that convention. Barry Freedman, Dave’s predecessor, was almost certainly there (and had been at convention). Karen Harris was a mainstay of that early committee – (no relation of mine, nor I believe a relation of Jacey’s – there were a lot of separate Harris families in Streatham) – I recall attending at least one committee meeting at Karen’s house – perhaps this meeting. Sue Leyens I think would have been there.
I think some of the original founders of the club, such as Lisa Benjamin (sadly deceased) who had encouraged me to join in the first place, had finished by then. Or were going through the process of handing the club over to the next generation.
Possibly David Heller was at the committee meeting that night; I am pretty sure that David was involved at that time and was (along with me and Barry) at that convention. Most of the people I think of as “my contemporaries” at that club; Sandra, Linda, Ivor, Natalie, Mark, Jacey, Liza A, Andrea, Wendy, Mandy, Martin,…I think got involved a little later, but perhaps some of that group were on the committee by then.
Just a few months later
So what was it about convention over new year 1977/78 that brought on that lengthy bout of optimism and self-confidence?
The diary doesn’t help me on this matter – I simply record, for the days I was at convention, that I was “at convention”. Naturally, I was having such an amazing time, I didn’t write up my diary. In any case, the experience was so unforgettable that it hardly needed writing up…
…did it?…
…I think I might need a little help from my friends, 40 years on, but here is what little I remember.
Harrogate was the location. I saw very little of Harrogate itself, although I did wander far enough from the hotel on one occasion to buy a tin of Harrogate Toffee – click here to see a likeness of the tin – to take home as a small gift for my parents. That tin ended its life, back in my hands, as a sort of ashtray/stashtray – not a dignified ending for a tin of Harrogate toffee. But I digress.
The real point was that convention exposed me to the leading lights, recent past, present and future, of BBYO nationally at that time. They were a pretty impressive bunch – certainly to me at that time but in any case, I think it was probably a golden era of leadership in the British Isles for that organisation.
I met for the first time the Rose brothers (Mike and Jonathan), the Spector brothers, (Martin and the late, much missed Jeffrey), plus David Wiseman, who was elected National President at that convention. Those five were all National Presidents in the mid to late 1970s.
David Wiseman, with chain of office, second left, thanks to David for the picture
I also met many super people from other groups who either were or went on to be local and regional leaders.
I remember being quite overwhelmed by the scale of the convention – I had never been let loose with that many fellow teenagers before. The only people I knew there were Barry and David from my own club; they were older and they seemed to know plenty of people.
I remember Lynda Singer – Stanmore – (latterly Lynda Jackson, also sadly deceased and much missed), perhaps spotting that I was a bit lost, telling me that everyone finds it a bit daunting at first, pointing me in the right direction and offering to help if I wanted more advice. I remember Judy Wolfson – Hampstead Garden Suburb – being similarly older-sister-like that convention – our paths crossed again at Keele but not since.
I remember chatting at length that convention with Sara Wiseman, David’s sister, not realising that she was sister to the President Elect to be. At first she seemed as shy and as daunted by the convention as me.
I remember meeting Paul Corper and Robert Garelick from Cockfosters for the first time, although it was at camp later that year that we formed a bit of a comedy trio. I also remember meeting Drewey for the first time and not understanding any of his jokes…OK I’ve just made that last bit up.
In truth I met dozens of people for the first time there, many of whom I got to know a lot better over the following three years. In truth I don’t remember meeting Terri Phillips (nee Vine) – Stanmore – at that convention but I remember meeting her at events soon afterwards and she has kindly supplied a group photo of all of us for this piece:
I’m standing towards the right hand side…yes I am wearing THAT banana jacket
My injection of optimism, energy and confidence was not restricted to my BBYO activities , btw. I note the following diary entries:
4 January 1978 – went to West End with Graham and Anil – had a good time there.
5 January 1978 – went to BFI library on John’s card – had a good day there.
6 January 1978 – went to Graham’s for the day – played D&D v good…
Cousin John kindly lent me his BFI Membership card – minors are not allowed access to the library. The staff must have known/guessed that I was under age and using someone else’s pass, but they were incredibly helpful and that project benefited enormously from the reading I did there and the help the staff gave me. Respect.
“D&D v good”? Please. I never really got the point of D&D. I remember that Graham, Gareth Mills and some others at Alleyn’s School were really into it. I remember going with the flow of it and clearly I sometimes enjoyed it. But D&D was not really me. Honest.
I also note my references to watching TV starting to diminish as I took on more interests. But that fortnight I did mention:
The Two Ronnies – gosh I remember liking that show – I suspect I’d find the humour simple/childish now but it was good family entertainment;
Coronation Street – which to my mum for many years (long after I tired of it) was as a “family together must” to the same extent as eating. After dinner, the refrain, “watch Coronation Street with us first and THEN go upstairs to do your homework/do your own thing” was quite common;
I also note that Grandma Anne was in hospital in early January that year, but I don’t think her affliction was that serious on that occasion; she must have been 86 or 87 then – she was to live just short of four more years after that.
I also notice that my confidence and upbeat demeanour extended to Alleyn’s School extra-curricular activities by the end of the first week back at school:
Friday 13 January 1978, Got a talking part in the school play – I’m the innkeeper – V pleased
Yes, I was relentlessly upbeat for at least two weeks. Blue Monday hadn’t been invented back then I guess. In any case, I suppose I need to write up week three of 1978 to see what my actual “Blue Monday” mood was like. Still pretty positive I’ll guess. That fine bunch of people from the 1978 BBYO convention had a lot to answer for…in a good way.
A few more memories of that convention from a few other people wouldn’t go amiss. Do be aware, BBYO folk, that comments on Ogblog are public whereas comments on the BBAK Facebook Group are private to the group.
Anyway, the lunchtime special of the day (10 January 2018) in my client’s staff canteen was baked mackerel with onions. Very tasty it was too.
I remembered, so clearly, that my mother’s baked mackerel with onions was one of my favourite dishes.
Awaiting onions
I also remembered that it was one of mum’s “economy meals”. Times were hard in the mid to late 1970s. Mum shopped very carefully to help make ends meet. In addition, she had a routine which was to include one meal per week described as the “economy meal”.
Sometimes it would be a fish economy meal on a Tuesday. Sometimes it would be a meat economy meal on a Wednesday. Monday was leftovers from weekend roast day. Thursday was always fish day. Friday night was friday night. That’s how it worked.
Mum was almost apologetic about the economy meal, but the strange thing is, I used to look forward to them, because the economy meal was often, e.g. the baked mackerel dish, a real favourite of mine.
Thoughts of other “economy meal of the week” dishes started to flood into my head:
stuffed lamb’s hearts – might sound disgusting to those who hate offal or who can only contemplate liver from the offal department, but believe me, after slow braising, stuffed lamb’s hearts are unbelievably tasty. Here is a recipe not dissimilar to mum’s;
baked klops – or meatloaf. Economy in mum’s case because she would basically pad out cheap mince with egg and cereal. There are gazillions of recipes for meatloaf on line, but this “posh klops” recipe – click here – miles away from mum’s economy principles (veal mince…Balsamic vinegar!!) – sounds so very yummy I might give it a try;
salmon rissoles. Now this was an oddity in the economy meal department. Salmon rissoles with tinned red salmon were already occasionally on the agenda for the “regular fish meal” on Thursdays. Tinned pink salmon was much cheaper in those days (if you shop around possibly still is), so mum would sometimes make an economy meal of pink salmon rissoles. I’m not sure I could tell much difference – perhaps a bit more “meaty texture” to the red (Oncorhynchus nerka) species although surely the texture is lost in the tinning and rissoling. Little did I know then that, ironically, I would subsequently do deep, seminal economic research into the Alaskan salmon industry – click here for link to The Economist piece on the subject, although strangely, the pink species, Oncorhynchus gorbuscha, received less scrutiny than the red (sockeye), for reasons far too dull to explain.Here’s a link to a pinko recipe anyway;
When I got home from my meetings, I wondered whether I might have eaten that very baked mackerel dish exactly forty years ago to the day and looked at my old diary. Turns out that 10 January 1978 was a Tuesday, so I might very well have done.
I also realised that Tuesday 10 January would almost certainly have been a “caviar on toast for breakfast…economy meal for dinner” day. Bizarre, but that’s how it was.
What I also learned about that evening, after the second day of the school term, was the following:
gave talk at BBYO with Graham [Majin] on the cartoon. Went down well.
Ah yes, the cartoon. I really need to try to patch that thing together digitally. Graham’s attempt, a few years ago, to get the BBC properly to copy the 8mm film itself shredded the celluloid. Another Ogblog project to add to the list. Watch this space.
Anyway, all that foodie memory came flooding back simply as a result of tasting baked mackerel again in a style so similar to my mum’s…
