Work Life – Page 13 – Ian Louis Harris

Windows, A Lyric For Charles And Mike, 29 June 1998

Image produced in collaboration with Dall-E

In honour of Charley “The Gent Malloy” Bartlett’s impending visit to Lord’s today (as I write on 21 April 2017) I was reminded of the following lyric.

It is one of the very last I wrote using Amipro and therefore part of the batch I am trying to rescue onto Ogblog before my old computer passes away…

…and the subject matter, ironically, is IT. I wrote this (and several others for The Children’s Society Windows Rollout team) ahead of a team end of project session at Wadderton.

The project parodied in the song was sensibly written up in a seminal piece by me and Charles for the charity press (NGO Finance) a few months later – click here if you want to know about it.

Charles likes a bit of metal – both the IT and musical variety, so the choice of tune was, I think, a good one. I wonder what Charles will think of this well-geeky lyric nearly 20 years on?

PLANNING A ROLLOUT OF WINDOWS
(Epic To the Tune of “Stairway To Heaven”)
VERSE 1

There’s a fellow whose mode-,
-em is not Dacom Gold,
And the name of that bloke is Charles Bartlett;
When he breaks wind you’ll know,
As the windows are closed,
If that noise was a burp or a fartlett.
Mmmmmmmm, mmmmmmmmm,
And he’s planning a rollout of Windows.

VERSE 2

There’s a sign on the door,
Cos he wants to be sure,
And the sign reads “IT room, no entry”;
I suspect that the room’s,
Got NS Optimum’s,
Entire stock ’til the end of the century.
Ooooooooooh, it makes me wonder.
Ooooooooooh, it makes me wonder.

VERSE 3

There’s a feeling I get,
When I call the helpdesk,
That they and Z/Yen are drinking Bacardi;
I get fine, rum advice,
‘Tho’ they ask in a trice,
Tony Duggan or Michael Bernardi.
Ooooooooooh, it makes me wonder.
Ooooooooooh, and it makes me wonder.

VERSE 4

And it’s whispered that soon,
Yes by the end of June,
TCS will have rolled out completely;
ITSOs and Marion,
Will still carry on,
FMI Windows training discretely.

VERSE 5

If there’s a gremlin in your Windows,
Don’t be alarmed now,
It’s just a browser from Bill Gates;
Yes there are two paths you can go by,
But in the long run,
He’ll make you buy Windows 98.
Ooooooooh, that’s how he’s made his fortune.

VERSE 6

Your modem’s humming but you don’t know,
Because it’s so slow,
If you’ve got e-mail or been forsook;
Perhaps the server’s full of e-trash,
Or had a head crash,
Or just can’t load Microsoft Outlook.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh

(AIR GUITAR BREAK)

VERSE 7

Charles and Mike Smith have bought the road,
I’m talking Tottenham Court Road;
Up walks the lady we all know (“watcha Mangal”),
Whose eyes light up to say “hello,
What have you guys bought from the stores?
We have to budget very hard,
None of that corporate charge card,
This recent rollout really shows, (yeh)
That Windows costs a lot of dough.”

OUTRO – MIKE AND CHARLES’ REPLY

“We were buying some spares and cheap modems”.

Here is Led Zeppelin singing Stairway To Heaven with the lyrics shown on screen. I can do a passable Stairway on the baritone ukulele, btw, but I’m not expecting Chas to ask for a performance. Mike Smith, on the other hand, might insist upon it…

Reflections On The Day England U19s Won The Cricket World Cup In South Africa, 1 February 1998

I am writing in January 2020, on the day the U19 Cricket World Cup in South Africa is starting.

Last time the U19 Cricket World Cup was in South Africa was early 1998. That was also the last time (and so far the only time) that England won the U19 World Cup.

Here is a link to the scorecard of the final, in which England beat New Zealand.

My friends over at King Cricket will be delighted to see Rob Key’s name on that scorecard.

Rob Key is “a thing” on King Cricket:

Rob Key

Rob Key had a fine tournament, although not such a magnificent final.

It was Stephen Peters who topped the scoring/batting averages for England in that tournament and who scored the “man of the match ton” in the final.

It turns out that Peters was Essex in those days and hails from Harold Wood – Charley “The Gent” Malloy territory.

That thought made me realise that, in February 1998, I had only recently met Charles through our work at The Children’s Society and I had neither met Nigel “Father Barry” nor “Big Papa Zambesi” Jeff…yet. At that juncture, Charles was working mainly with Mike Smith. Coincidentally, Janie and I spent the evening with Mike and Marianna less than two weeks ago as I write:

A Gentle Start To 2020, Including Music & Food With The Smiths & The Neighbours, Early January 2020

It wasn’t until that summer, 1998, by which time I was also working with Nigel and Jeff, that I learnt that Chas, Nigel, Jeff…they all had a passion for cricket.

It must have been July, that topsy-turvy 1998 test series between England & South Africa was well under way. Jeff and I were going to visit a project in Mitcham – I had arranged to drive over to Clerkenwell, meet to plan the visit and then drive Jeff out to Mitcham.

When we got to the car, I tentatively asked Jeff if he would mind if I put the test match on the radio while we drove out there. Jeff’s trademark big beaming smile appeared on his face and he said,

I’d been trying to work out how to phrase that question politely to you…

…we listened all the way to the project (while also discussing cricket of course) and then again when we left the project. I arranged to drop Jeff at one of the Northern Line Tootings or Balham before I went on to see my folks.

It was a very hot late afternoon and I took the roof off Nobby – one of the very few times I did that. Big Papa Zambesi Jeff must have been grateful for the extra head room in a topless Nobby (as it were).

Janie, with Nobby, at his last resting place

I recall England taking a wicket when we were stopped at traffic lights somewhere around Tooting and we must have looked a right pair of charlies in that car leaping for joy at an announcement on the radio.

But returning to the U19 World Cup Final match on 1 February 1998, I realise that Nobby was just a twinkle in my and Janie’s eyes on that day. I think we had seen Mack the day before that final and arranged to buy Nobby. The deal was done the following Saturday…

…and I think it was the Saturday after that, in deep midwinter, that Janie and I visited the Mainellis in Nobby to see their newborn baby, Xenia, at the end of which Rupert Stubbs and the other visitors insisted on seeing us drive off with Nobby’s roof off. We drove round the corner, put the roof back on and tried to stop shivering all the way home.

I was trying to recall how I followed the tournament and that 1 February 1998 match.

No on-line all the time Cricinfo in those days. Ceefax was the only source of constantly updating cricket scores.

But I think also, in those days, Janie and I could hear sky commentary on her Videotron cable TV arrangement. She didn’t have the additional Sky sports subscription in those days – most of the cricket was terrestrial, free-to-air, but the scrambled channels, such as the sports ones, had sound all the time with the picture scrambled. I have a feeling we followed bits of that final that way.

But my main reflections are of how long ago all of that was and the journey I have shared with so many of those characters over the decades…

…and of the cricket careers that have come and gone for those (then) youngsters who fought that final. Most of the finalists went on to professional careers, many international ones. Some glorious, some less than glorious, but all interesting.

Here’s that U19 World Cup Final 1998 scorecard again.

A “Works Outing” To Remember, From Detroit To Fung Shing Via Scissor Happy At The Duchess Theatre, 12 December 1997

One of the more memorable Z/Yen Christmas outings, this one.

In an attempt to start to big-up the event, we tried a west end evening, with bar drinks, theatre visit and dinner in a private room.

Perhaps the bar bit was not a great idea ahead of a silly play, Scissor Happy, that was relying on audience participation for laughs.

Anyway, we started in Detroit – by which I mean the bar in Seven Dials, long since defunct as I write 25 years later – not the City in Michigan, obviously.

Then we went to see Scissor Happy at The Duchess Theatre. I wrote the following in my theatre log:

Works outing for Z/Yen – went very well.

Michael Moore’s drunken interventions were especially memorable.

Michael was the husband of one of our employees – Rachel. He was significantly older than her, indeed older than the rest of us. At first his audience interventions went down well with cast and audience, but he got carried away and for a while seemed to think that he WAS the show.

I remember several of our number being embarrassed about this – not least Rachel – although I also recall hearing on exit other audience members debating whether that funny old geezer was a plant from the show or really a member of the audience.

The Fung Shing meal was excellent in out private room. At that time Fung Shing was, in my opinion, the best restaurant in Chinatown. Writing 25 years later, it is another long-since defunct place, sadly.

Returning to Scissor Happy, though – I wonder what made us chose that play? Some sort of lowest common denominator thinking? Or perhaps it came recommended by someone…certainly not me! Not my sort of play at all.

Nor Nicholas de Jongh’s, who described it as “piffle” in the Standard:

23 Oct 1997, Thu Evening Standard (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Strangely, Charles Spencer in The Telegraph rather liked it, while admitting “it depends who is in the audience”. Too right!

24 Oct 1997, Fri The Daily Telegraph (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Beef On The Bone Risk Compared With Christmas Risk, Z/Yen Public Relations Stunt, 5 December 1997

A government ban on the sale of beef-on-the-bone, in late 1997, was very unpopular. The worry was “Mad Cow Disease” or variant Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease in humans, although the connection and risks seemed very low to many of us.

I wrote a tongue-in-cheek press release for Z/Yen, which you can read by clicking here…

…or, if by chance the Z/Yen archive goes awry before Ogblog does, I have scraped that piece to here.

In truth, it was written more as a personal rant and internal Z/Yen team joke for Christmas that year than anything that I thought might really generate press, but strangely the Daily Telegraph picked up on it, called me for a chat about it and then published this piece – extracted onto the then nascent Z/Yen web site here...

…or, if by chance the Z/Yen archive goes awry before Ogblog does, I have scraped that piece to here.

The beef-on-the-bone ban was lifted in time for Christmas (1999) – so never let it be said that I have no influence.

An Evening With Teresa Bestard, Bob Willis & Others, Albertine Wine Bar, 19 August 1997

I am writing this memory piece on 4 December 2019, having just learnt that the great fast bowler and latterly cricket pundit, Bob Willis, has died today.

I first met Bob Willis when I was but a boy, in 1977, at The Oval:

My First Ever Day At A Test Match, With Graham Majin, England v Australia Day 3, Oval, 27 August 1977

For those who cannot be bothered to click through, Graham and I really did meet Bob that day in 1977, down in the tube station, an hour or so after stumps, as we were all heading to different households in Streatham, in his case to visit friends on the test match rest day.

I doubt very much whether Bob recognised me 20 years later on our second encounter; on this occasion in the Albertine Wine Bar in Shepherd’s Bush.

Albertine was well trendy in 1997, picking up awards and being known as a place to celebrity spot – click here or image below for ES artcle/review:

Teresa Bestard was working with me on several projects with Broadcasting Support Services, who at that time were based in Shepherd’s Bush. I had arranged to meet Teresa and David Highton to go through stuff late afternoon/early evening and we agreed we’d have a drink after work together. Teresa chose Albertine because she wanted to celebrity spot.

The bar was not so crowded when we got there and Teresa was a little disappointed not to recognise any celebrities in the bar.

The only person I recognised, on the far side of the bar, was Bob Willis. He was with two other people; one turned out to be the cricket journalist Michael Henderson, the other a mustachioed Aussie, who looked like a superannuated version of Merv Hughes but who was in fact a wine producer.

I told Teresa that a former great England cricketer was in the bar, which was celebrity enough for me. It was celebrity enough for David Highton too, who is/was a keen follower of cricket and indeed was a decent player in his own right when he turned out for the charity matches.

Teresa let it be known that former cricketers did not meet her stringent criteria for celebrity.

David didn’t hang around for very long.

Teresa asked me a bit more about Bob Willis. In the absence of any celebrities who met her stringent criteria, she suddenly promoted Bob to the “worth asking about” level.

I told her a little and suggested that she approach Bob and chat with him.

Teresa was not at all keen on that idea…

…until she progressed to a second glass of wine…

…when she asked again about this cricket business and that cricketer and I suggested that she approach Bob Willis with a greeting along the lines of…

…aren’t you Bob Willis, the great fast bowler and former England cricket captain…

…and take it from there.

So imagine the scene. Teresa Bestard, a pint-sized young woman with a big smile and a heavy Catalan accent, wanders to the other side of the bar, looks up to the relative giant, Bob Willis, presumably saying the above short speech.

I couldn’t hear from my distance, but I did see the astonished expression on Bob Willis’s face and gales of laughter from the group.

Teresa was then chatting with them for a short while, before Michael Henderson came over to me.

You set that up, didn’t you?…

..said Henderson…

…that was really funny. Is she your girlfriend?

No, I said, Teresa’s a work colleague.

Well, anyway, she’s perfectly safe with those two.

Henderson and I chatted a while, which is how I found out, amongst other things, that “Merv Senior” was a wine producer.

Soon enough, Bob, “Merv Senior” and Teresa came over to our table – I think the Bob Willis party had been on the verge of leaving when Teresa intervened with them, so all three of them made to leave.

Is this your girlfriend?…

…Bob Willis asked me, pointing to Teresa.

Oh no, blushed Teresa, you should meet his girlfriend Janie, she’s lovely!

Bob Willis turned to me, saluted me and said…

…mon capitaine…

…before all three of Bob’s party left us, with warm farewells.

Bob Willis.

A Crazy Fortnight, Then Up To Stratford-Upon-Avon, 6 to 18 April 1997

The Shakespeare Hotel by Rept0n1x, CC BY-SA 3.0

After our mega trip to the Middle East, our homecoming and then The Homecoming…

…the sort of fortnight that looks, twenty-five years later, like an utterly mad way to over-fill one’s diary and hare around the country like a mad thing.

A tour for Barnardo’s. with whom I was working quite a lot back then, took in Yorkshire, Wales and Barkingside in the space of a few days, interrupted only for some meetings with other clients and a foreshortened weekend which included dinner with Janie’s lovely neighbours, Hussein and Saji on the Saturday.

I guess the frantic aspect of the work was somewhat self-inflicted, as I had arranged a proper long weekend in Stratford only a couple of weeks after returning from a three-week holiday.

Our main purpose in Stratford was to take in a couple of plays, which I shall write up individually and separately. On this slightly extended visit I do recall also having the time to have a proper good wander around the town and take in some of the touristic sites we wouldn’t normally find time to see when visiting Stratford for the theatre.

Was I welcome in these places or was I Bard?

We stayed on until Tuesday 22 April and went to a Seder (perhaps at Jacquie’s, perhaps at Mum & Dad’s) the evening of our return.

Seasonal Dos, Including A Low Key Z/Yen Dinner At Le Muscadet, 17 to 21 December 1996

Thumbnail borrowed from londontown.com. Probably Le Muscadet.

Tuesday 17 December – Viv’s Place

On the Tuesday, Janie and I went to Viv’s place in Golders Green for the evening. I think it was a sort-of seasonal party, mostly of the foodie variety.

Thursday 19 December – Z/Yen Christmas Bash At Le Muscadet

Thursday evening was the Z/Yen Christmas do – a relatively small scale affair that year, at Le Muscadet in Paddington Street, a restaurant now long gone. I recall Michael and I had used that place a few times for “corporate entertaining” in those early days of Z/Yen, so we thought it would be a sensible venue for our small but sweet team to gather.

I’m pretty sure that the group comprised Kevin & Kate Parker, Teresa Bestard Perello, Mike & Marianna Smith, Michael & Elisabeth, Me and Janie. Perhaps one or two other associates. 10 or 12 of us at the most.

It was a very good meal – it always was at le Muscadet. I recall one earlier occasion when Michael and I took some visiting Australian former colleagues/prospective clients there and they waxed lyrical about the place.

This will have been the first Z/Yen Christmas do held in London – the first two were held at The Paris House in Bedfordshire:

Z/Yen, The Very First Z/Yen Seasonal Song Lyric, 9 December & 16 December 1994

Not sure what, if anything, we did in terms of a seasonal song that 1996 Christmas – I cannot find anything in my dated files for it. It might have been one of Michael’s efforts, but I have a feeling we didn’t do one that year as we were simply a table in an open restaurant and didn’t have the guts to sing in that circumstance. I think we resolved to try and book a private area in future, when possible.

Saturday 21 December, Kim & Micky’s Place

An early in the season visit to Kim & Micky’s that year – I’m guessing they went away for Christmas itself. There will have been excellent food and wine. Probably quite a few people – perhaps even as many as the Z/Yen team do.

Food, Art & Work In New York City, 1 to 8 November 1996

Picture by Rennboot, CC BY 3.0

Michael and I had been commissioned to do a bit of work for Bloomberg. Janie and I decided to enjoy a weekend in New York ahead of my assignment. Janie flew out with me on the Friday, returning to London on the Sunday redeye. I then joined up with Michael and we worked in New York for several days.

Janie and I stayed at the Waldorf Astoria, scoring a manageable price at that time – especially as expenses was picking up five of my seven nights.

We chose to eat at Smith & Wollensky’s (see headline picture) the first night, having read a rave review about it in one of Janie’s travel mags. What that review didn’t teach us was the extent to which a high-end steakhouse in NYC was a “jacket & tie more or less assumed” place, which I discovered only after we arrived in smart casuals.

One local asked Janie if we were Irish as he was leaving, perhaps based on Janie’s physiognomy but perhaps also our casual look. One friendly but drunk gentleman, while walking past us as he departed, stopped and asked me if I realised how expensive the restaurant was. I told him I did. Thing was, back then, an expensive New York restaurant seemed quite modest in price by London standards.

Janie and I did some culture-vulturing on the Saturday, spending quite some time at MoMA, partly looking at the excellent general galleries but also taking in some special exhibitions, e.g. a Jasper Johns retrospective.

We went on to a Nan Goldin exhibition at The Whitney, which had been much heralded on both sides of the pond:

Whitney MOMA October 1996 12 Oct 1996, Sat Daily News (New York, New York) Newspapers.com

Janie and I were especially taken with the Nan Goldin.

Tired, a little lagged even, but not dissuaded, we went on to The Guggenheim, where Ellsworth Kelly was featured.

I have found an interesting review of both the MoMA Jasper Johns and the Ellsworth Kelly on-line, which is pretty cool:

Ellsworth Kelly and Jasper Johns October 1996 New York 22 Oct 1996, Tue Daily News (New York, New York) Newspapers.com

By mid-late afternoon, we really were both wilting, so we returned to the hotel for siesta, before venturing out again, this time for dinner at the 2nd Avenue Deli:

Actually we eschewed the popular “salt beef on rye” style of deli food depicted for a more traditional Jewish deli meal, harder to come by in London, including a truly excellent cholent, which Janie, now a self-appointed aficionado of such dishes, claims to be the best she has ever tasted. I believe it was accompanied by (or perhaps we separately ordered) a kishke or helzel, which, obviously, will have helped the fatty-gooiness of the occasion make an especially strong impression. We also tried p’tcha (calves foot jelly), which is one of those mistakes people tend to only make once.

Still, it was a very special evening and I am pretty sure we slept off our endeavours/over-indulgence at length that night.

The next day we took it easy, simply strolling and finding a suitable-looking mid-town eatery for a traditional New York Sunday brunch, before I helped Janie get a cab to the airport for her “red-eye” journey home that evening.

New York cabs were still a hit-and-miss affair, probity-wise, back then. The authorities had fixed the price of a fare from Manhattan to JFK, so I gave Janie the appropriate fare plus a generous tip, explaining to her that she could and should simply exhaust her supply of dollar money on that journey. The cabbie tried to enforce some monstrous sum showing on his meter, which was the very thing the authorities had sought to prevent with the flat fare rule. Janie simply explained what had been explained to her and the initially angry cabbie relented. Janie has not sought a rapid return to New York City since.

Harvard Club Interior Marc Jacobs, CC BY-SA 4.0

I have a feeling I met up with Michael at the Harvard Club that evening. I recall having some superb sashimi with him there – for some reason (perhaps brainiacs tend to like sashimi) the place had employed a top sashimi chef at that time, which didn’t go with the decor but did go down very nicely indeed.

Then for several days it was mostly work.

I recall one midweek evening being entertained for dinner at John Aubert’s elevated apartment on the New Jersey side of the Hudson Bay with a glorious view of Manhattan.

One midweek evening comprised an early evening cocktail party at the Harvard Club, organised by Michael for his wider circle of friends and acquaintances, followed by dinner with a closer-knit small group. Very New York.

On my last night, the Thursday, Bloomberg arranged a dinner for us and several of the seniors involved in our project at a seriously up-market, kosher restaurant in mid-town. Several of the attendees had such dietary needs. It was, to date (25 years on), the one and only meal I have ever had that might be described as both haute cuisine and glatt kosher.

Michael stayed on Friday for an audience with Michael Bloomberg himself, while I took the wimps (daytime) flight back to London, arriving late evening to find that Janie had, in my absence, changed all of the carpets in Sandall Close. Let’s tread carefully around that one.

Mad Cowes Disease – The Day I Went On The Solent With Michael Mainelli Aboard Lady Daphne, 8 August 1996

Photograph by Mark Ahsmann, CC BY-SA 3.0

I’m not really a boat person.

Yet, for more than two decades, I spent an inordinate amount of time on Michael Mainelli’s sailing barge, Lady Daphne. Most of that time was spent on the River Thames, sailing back and forth from London Bridge City Pier, via a Tower Bridge lifting or two…

…to the Dome or sometimes as far as the Thames Barrier, “edutaining” clients and prospects. Occasionally we’d use the boat as a static venue for a business workshop or a dinner.

Our business, Z/Yen, even had the old tub corporately branded at the topsail level, as evidenced here:

Back in 1996, the boat was a bit of a novelty in the Mainelli and Z/Yen world. I cannot remember exactly the date Michael bought Lady Daphne, but I do remember Michael dragging me from our office to St Katherine’s Dock, where he wanted me to act as his “legal advisor” on the purchase contract.

But I don’t know anything about maritime law and am really not qualified to review a procurement contract for a substantial asset…

…I said. But Michael demurred…

I know that. But the vendor has been messing around for weeks. I figure if I turn up with my “advisor” we can insist on closing the deal. Just look at the document for a few minutes, spot a couple of spelling mistakes or grammatical errors – there are bound to be some – then state that we can sign as long as those small changes are made in manuscript…

…which is exactly what happened. I felt a bit like Dr Gonzo to Michael’s Raoul Duke in Fear & Loathing.

A few weeks later, I found myself on the high seas (OK, The Solent) with Michael & Elisabeth, along with some of their close friends, boaty friends and close boaty friends.

We weren’t there for racing purposes – we were there in one of the more “corporate sail around” slots. It probably looked a bit like the following image from 1990:

In truth I remember little about the day, other than my general feeling of unease whenever I find myself on a boat.

I vaguely recall a decent lunch in a suitable hostelry in Cowes.

I recall the skipper – at that time Adrian I’m pretty sure – asking me if I wanted to take the helm for a while; an honour which, for everyone’s sake, I chose to decline.

I never did take the helm, but just occasionally I did need to “lead” on a Z/Yen boat trip in Michael’s absence. Naturally, I deferred to the skipper on all important matters, but I did the general introductions and safety announcements, while asserting that everything I know about boats could be written on the back of a postage stamp.

Below is the image from the back of that 2p stamp, which I always had with me when aboard the boat. If anyone asked me a question after my announcements, I’d show them the stamp and refer them to someone more knowledgeable.

The notes are a little faded and tarnished now, but I can still read the notes and expand on them accordingly:

90 foot barge out of Rochester 1923;
Known as “Lucky Lady Daphne” due to a few narrow escapes;
Daphne mostly schlepped Portland Stone;
In the unlikely event that you hear seven short blasts of the horn followed by a long blast, that’s an emergency;
Life jackets are stored fore and aft – the crew will be handing them out – if you are below deck, the exits are in the places I indicate fore and aft;
Take your jacket up, don it when above and await the skipper’s instructions. The safest place is almost always to stay on the boat;
Even without a full blown emergency there are hazards – glass can be a hazard so hand your used glasses in, ropes are generally doing something so be careful not to hold onto one as it might get pulled through a pully along with your hand, stairways and decks can become slippery…
Then I’d explain where we are going, the rough timescales of the voyage and the edutainment game we were going to play.

Not bad for a land-lubber.

Actually my scariest boat moments have been overseas, e.g.

Nicaragua, Morgan’s Rock to Mukul, 16 February 2016

…not the 1996 “high seas” Solent adventure aboard Lady Daphne described in this post.

Postscript

Elisabeth has been in touch to remind me that she was there at that strange purchase meeting and that she can confirm the exact…and I mean EXACT…time and date of the purchase:

…signed at 16.10 hrs on 10 May 1996…

That means that Michael and Elisabeth bought Lady Daphne a week after Michael’s stag do…

Harrendous, A Poem For Michael Mainelli’s Stag Night, 3 May 1996

…and a week before their wedding:

Michael & Elisabeth Mainelli’s Wedding – The Build Up & Wedding Day Itself, 14 to 18 May 1996

Priorities, priorities.

Harrendous, A Poem For Michael Mainelli’s Stag Night, 3 May 1996

Latterly a tea room in Maldon, at that time Rupert Stubbs’s home in Chiswick.

I wrote this parody poem for Michael Mainelli’s stag night, which was held on Rupert Stubbs’s barge in Chiswick.

A rare example of a piece I wrote and performed myself; given the cosy audience and their state at the time of the recitation, unsurprisingly it went down rather well.

HARRENDOUS
One of the most godawful lays made about the city MCMXCVI
(A poem not entirely dissimilar to Horatius by Lord Macaulay)

VERSE 1

Liz Lizbetchen, she of Chiswick
By the sauerkraut she swore
That the great house of Franken
Should suffer wrong no more.
By the sauerkraut she swore it,
And named a wedding day,
And bade her messengers set sail,
Letters, faxes, calls and e-mail,
To summon her array.

VERSE 2

Letters, faxes calls and e-mail
She let them know real fast,
In hamlet, town and cottage
And little places you’d drive past.
Shame on the false Etreusscan
Who lingers at the stalls,
When Lizbetchen of Chiswick
Has Michael by the balls.

VERSE 3

Now from the dock St Katherine’s
Could young Mainelli spy
The line of blazing bridesmaids
Across the midnight sky.
The buddies of Mainelli,
They sat all night and day,
For every hour some faxes came
With tidings of dismay.

VERSE 4

To London and to Franken
Have spread the Reusscan bands
Nor house, nor fence, nor dovecote
Unrenovated stands.
Bayswater down to Bishopsgate
Hath wasted in a dash;
Our Liz has stormed through Selfridges
And spent shitloads of cash.

VERSE 5

They held a council standing
Before the River Thames;
Short time was there, ye well may guess,
To stop him buying gems.
Out spake the Verschoyle roundly:
“That Liz must great go down;
Mainelli’s sense is truly lost,
We might as well rave on down.”

VERSE 6

Then out spake brave Harrendous,
The one from Michael’s firm:
“To every man upon this earth
Wedlock cometh like a germ.
And how can a man wed better
Than pissed as a bloody fart
Cos he’ll still be window shopping
For a fresh bit of jam tart.

VERSE 7

So start the rave Sir Rupie,
With all the speed ye may;
I with two more to help me,
Will get on down, way hay.
The legal limit of a thousand
May well be drunk by three.
Now who will stand on either hand
And get well pissed with me?

VERSE 8

Then out spake Lucas Clementus;
A boating man proud was he:
“Yo, I will stand at thy right hand,
And get well pissed with thee.”
Then out spoke Ricardus Sealyus,
Of filming man fame was he:
“I will abide on thy left side,
And get well pissed with thee.”

VERSE 9

Then out spake Marcus Schlossmanus,
A photographer proud and tall:
“Don’t mind if I do have a quick jar or two,
Until I’m senseless and I fall.”
Then out spake Julius Mountainous,
A friend from firms gone by:
“I’ll knock them back, build up a stack,
I can drink this damned barge dry.”

VERSE 10

Then out spake Rupius Stubbsius,
A Saatchi man by trade:
“Just hold it a tick with your big swinging dicks,
This is my party I’m afraid.
For stags at stag nights quarrel
Spared either girl or dame,
No maids, no duff, no bits of fluff,
Not even one that’s on the game.

VERSE 11

Imbibers oh imbibers!
It’s Michael we must drown,
A bachelor but a few days left,
So just shut up and party on down.”
So he spake and speaking sheathed
(tho “why sheathed” in this company? doesn’t it make you think??)
And with his wineglass in his hand
Plunged headlong in the drink.

VERSE 12

Years later, you’ll not remember
Much about that night gone by;
But you’ll recall the week of migraine
And that month of sustained red eye.
With weeping and with laughter
You’ll tell the stories right,
How well Mainelli held his drink,
On Michael’s wild stag night.

If you want to know what Horatius At The Bridge by Lord Macaulay actually reads like, click here for the poem. Trigger warning: if you think my parody version is too long, I wouldn’t try reading all 600 or so lines of the original.

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Tuesday 17 December – Viv’s Place

Thursday 19 December – Z/Yen Christmas Bash At Le Muscadet

Saturday 21 December, Kim & Micky’s Place

Share this:

Share this:

Postscript

Share this:

Share this: