The Very First Match Of The Very First Cricket World Cup: I Was There (In Our Living Room), As Were Tom And Jerry, 7 June 1975

I witnessed the very start of world cup cricket from the comfort of our family living room in Woodfield Avenue.

How do I know? Because my diary says so.

It’s just possible that you cannot read the first two lines of the 7 June 1975 diary entry – allow me to help:

Saw Prudential Cup. England won, Old 51 not out.

I described the match as Prudential Cup, not Cricket World Cup. David Kendix – Middlesex CCC treasurer, international cricket scorer, ICC guru on rankings/statistical stuff and “Man From The Pru” would no doubt approve.

At that time, the tournament was not being promoted as, nor (as I understand it) was there an express intention to initiate, a regular cricket world cup. It was simply billed as an eight team international one-day cricket tournament, sponsored by Prudential, to help fill the scheduling gap created by South Africa’s apartheid-induced suspension from international sport.

But in my mind at the time it most certainly was a world cup and I remember being absolutely captivated by it. I’ll write more in subsequent pieces about how that captivation manifested itself in me over that summer of 1975. This article will focus only on that very first day.

Here is a link to the scorecard from that televised match.

My diary comments on the score are quite interesting, more for what they omit than for what they say. True, England won the match. True, Chris Old scored 51 not out.

I did not remark on Dennis Amiss scoring a magnificent 137 – perhaps in honour of my favourite bus route at the time; the route from our house to Grandma Jenny’s flat.

Nor did I remark upon the England team score of 334/4, which was a very high score in those days, albeit in 60 overs rather than the now-standard 50.

Even more remarkable, but absent from my comments, was the paltry India score in reply, 132/3 in 60 overs, with Sunil Gavaskar on the mother of all go slows, scoring 36 not out in 174 balls. He must have decided that India stood no chance and he would have a bit of batting practice instead.

Below is a highlights reel from that match, upon which you will hear the voices of Richie Benaud and Jim Laker:

https://youtu.be/Uwuq1FxMQKI

My focus on Chris Old will have been, in part, as a result of my having met the Yorkshire team some six years earlier and thus adopting my Yorkshire friends for the duration of my childhood:

A Short Holiday In Brighton, During Which I Met Geoffrey Boycott & The Yorkshire Cricket Team, 3 September 1969

But also, to be fair on myself, I was probably awestruck by my childhood hero Chris Old’s batting at the end of that one day innings – you didn’t see anyone score 51 runs in 30 balls in those days – it is commonplace now.

The rest of my diary entry for that day relates to something completely different:

Dad heard from insurance – got two films -Jerry and the Goldfish, Dr Jekyll and Mr Mouse

There had been a flood at dad’s shop and a fair chunk of stock got damaged; some beyond use, some beyond looking merchantable. I had helped dad clear up the place and my reward was to be some damaged stock that might still be useable. It turned out that these two Standard 8mm Tom and Jerry cartoon films were that reward.

If I recall correctly, both films were more than a little water-marked and also subject to snagging in the movie projector, so I don’t think I watched them all that much. No wonder the insurance company’s loss adjuster told dad that he could scrap them.

I wonder whether dad’s commercial insurance was with Prudential back then? Weird coincidence if it was.

Anyway, we can all watch those animated movies now, easily, on YouTube:

Jerry and the Goldfish – click here.

Dr Jekyll and Mr Mouse – click here.

My “First Soccer Match”, Chelsea v Middlesbrough, 22 March 1975

I stumbled across this page of my juvenile diary in July 2018, while searching for something completely different.

For those viewers of this page with reading difficulties – which, in the context of my handwriting, means “everyone, even to some extent me” – the Saturday entry reads:

went to first soccer match – Chelsea v Midsbro  concert  mum & dad  Trial by Jury

I’ll write a seperate piece about that little concert series quite soon, but the only element of the concert business that affects this blog post is the strange juxtaposition of spending Saturday afternoon at Stamford Bridge, then traversing London to play in an Alleyn’s School concert early that evening.

I’m struggling to recall what happened, but my only memories of going to Stamford Bridge include Andy Levinson, who was keen on Chelsea (at least he was at that time). I do have a memory of going up to Stamford Bridge with Andy on the bus and watching a match, but I think that must have been some time after this first one.

I do recall that Andy was also involved in that lower school concert. More on that anon.

But in any case, I find it hard – almost impossible – to believe that our parents would have allowed us find our own way to a football match and then make our own way from Stamford Bridge to Alleyn’s School to play in that concert. I have a funny feeling that Norman Levinson (Andy’s dad) might have taken us to that first football match and chauffeured us from Chelsea to Dulwich after the match, while my parents probably took Marjory (Andy’s mum) from Woodfield Avenue to the concert.

Andy and I were pretty independent 12-year olds…but I don’t think we’d have been allowed to be quite THAT independent in March 1975. I hope Andy has better recollection of what happened than me. If Andy does chime in, naturally I’ll add his resultant thoughts to this piece.

Of course, the internet allows me to find out everything I could possibly want to know about the match in question and more besides.

Here is a link to the 11v11.com entry for this match.

I was delighted to discover that the Chelsea team that day included Ron “Chopper” Harris… click here to see Ron Harris...whose name (and association with mine) had coincidentally come up in conversation during the MCC v HAC tennis match only a few days before I made this diary discovery.

Other names that leap out of that team sheet page at me are John Hollins, Ray Wilkins, Jim Platt and Graeme Souness. But perhaps several others are hugely famous and I am simply showing my profound lack of football knowledge.

The result wouldn’t have pleased Andy; nor me I suppose, with Middlesbrough prevailing 2-1. Younger readers who might mistakenly think that “League Division One” is something quite lowly should rest assured that the division named thus in those days was the very top, crème de la crème, division.

Most of the football I saw at that age was at White Hart Lane, where Stanley Benjamin would sometimes take me (and Andy too on occasion) if some members of Stanley’s family were away and thus he had one or more season tickets to spare.

But this very first one…if Andy’s memory can’t help I suspect the rest of the story is lost for ever in the mists of time.

Postscript

Andy Levinson writes:

What a team they, Chelsea, were! I remember we sat yes in the posh seats. I don’t remember that specific match but I suspect you are absolutely right that we would have been chauffeured there by dad and on to Alleyn’s after as we were both involved in the concert!
I do remember that we were able to get autographs from the players as their only access from their gym pre match was via the public stairwells in the stand and our seats were not far from the gym. Sadly I think I threw away my autograph book that had any of the signatures of the Chelsea team of those “golden years”!

I’m glad that is resolved. I’m also glad that the “partial memory” I had invoked in myself of Norman Levinson sitting with us at the football, gently smoking his pipe while the match played out, must be a genuine one.

I don’t think I joined you in the getting of autographs though, Andy. I always remember somewhat recoiling from doing that and quite early in life resolving not to be an autograph hunter. But it is also possible that, on that occasion, my first, that I joined in and that my “collection” of autographs also failed to make it through time’s relentless journey.

One Sir – Humanoid Or Similar, But When Was Some Enchanted Evening?, 19 February 1975

Following the 30 December 1974 seminal reference to Paul Deacon in my diary:

Breaking The World Record For Coin Catching With Paul Deacon, Woodfield Avenue, 30 December 1974

…I have a few more references to Paul Deacon in my early 1975 diary, at least one of which for sure was a recording session.

The relevant passage reads:

19 February 1975: went to Paul Deacon’s house. Played all day. “One sir, humanoid or similar”.

I do remember making that recording. The phrase came from Star Trek and for some reason we latched on to it. I even remember the second section of the phrase: “low level of activity”.

We derived a little tune from these phrases and made silly recordings, long since lost. I can even remember the tune, but I feel loathe to attempt a retrospective recording.

Paul might remember it all himself or use various methods of bribery, intoxication or both to get me to give a rendition.

Postscript/Update: Overnight, after sending Paul this piece, not only did Paul submit a comment (below), he also sent me an audio file. Clearly this rendition is an octave or two lower than the pre-teen original, but needless to say, the tune is note perfect. The recording is, it is, in its own way, authentic:

Thank you, Paul. Of course, that 2018 rendition will have been recorded, with ease, using whatever simple recording gadgetary comes as an essential, basic component in Paul’s computer.

Back then, in February 1975, I think Paul was using a cassette deck for his recordings, but perhaps he was already using reel-to-reel – he was certainly well into the latter eventually.

But, by then, we the Harris family had no ordinary reel-to-reel – we had a brand new Sony TC377…

…which looked like the above image and had, amongst its many features, a wonderful feedback/echo chamber facility. With that facility, Paul and I recorded a sort-of psychedelic version of Some Enchanted Evening on one occasion. It might have been the occasion registered in the following diary entry:

Wednesday 9 April 1975. Paul Deacon came for day. Nice time.

The details are lost in the mists of time, but for sure I was enjoying those school holiday muck around with tape recorders days.

Such a shame the tapes seem to have been lost forever.

With thanks to Paul for his comment below, I’m guessing his book look like this image – which you can click through to a well-known on-line store

Tomorrow, Tomorrow, I’ll Name Names, Tomorrow…Playing Call My Bluff In An English Class, Was It 1S Or 2AK? 1974 or 1975

I had a memory flash in September 2024 from an event at Alleyn’s School that must have been about 50 years ago now.

Janie and I went to see Here In America at The Orange Tree, Richmond:

Here In America by David Edgar, Orange Tree Theatre, 14 September 2024

Great play/production btw. The play is about the Second Red Scare in the 1950s.

It brought back to my mind a memory of playing Call My Bluff in an English class. That simple panel game had teams of three trying to convince the other team of three that “bluff” definitions of unusual words were actually true…and that true definitions were in fact bluffs.

Call My Bluff was “appointment to view” stuff in the 1970s – certainly in our household. Mind you, there wasn’t exactly a lot of choice back then.

The class version of the game was to split into teams of three and try to convince the rest of the class to vote for bluffs rather than the true definitions.

My team was given the word MCCARTHYISM. I must have recently learnt a passage of Hebrew in Hebrew classes with the word “machar” (מָחָר) in it. I quoted the short passage and explained that the word “machar” means tomorrow. I then strung out this small truth into a flight of fancy that there is a sect of Judaism, known as MCCARTHYISM, that venerates the future.

I know what you are thinking. The word would surely be spelt MACHARTHEISM if it had that definition. But such subtleties were probably beyond almost all of us at that age. I must have made the idea seem convincing.

When the class voted on the three definitions proposed for the word MCCARTHYISM, the true definition came second and my bluff got the most votes.

For some reason, this moment of smartarsed glory must have resided at the back of my memory all these decades, only to be revived by seeing Here In America.

But I also recall that, even at the time, I learnt quite a lot from this tiny episode. I learnt that using a grain of truth to disguise a lie (or bluff) is a very effective method of concealment. I learnt that nobody likes a smartarse, because the episode, while momentarily pleasing the teacher, did not make me popular with my class. And I subsequently learnt that my possession of a moral compass and my lack of a poker face would make me a very bad candidate for a future in bluffing.

But did we play that game in 1S, with Ian Sandbrook, or in 2AK with Mike Lempriere? I don’t recall.

Still, McCarthyism is all about naming names and I have named names for both of those classes:

My First Class At Alleyn’s School, 1S, And Some Nicknames, guessing 8 January 1974
My Second Class At Alleyn’s School, 2AK, And Some Nicknames, guessing 1 January 1975

So if you are, or have ever been, a member of one of those classes…

…and if you recall playing Call My Bluff in class…

…please let me know everything that you know. Yes, I mean everything.

Just answer the question.

And, of course, name yet more names…

Eating, Coining It, Too Much TV & Seeing In the New Year: Twixtmas 1974 & The Start Of 1975

Denise Lytton’s excellent chocolate mousse might have looked a bit like this

My handwriting did not improve as I graduated from my 1974 diary to me 1975 one.

Sunday 29 December 1974 – cloudy, sunny intervals. Played at home in morning. Dined at Feld’s & tea at Grandma Anne’s. TV Annual Lectures For Children & Robinson Crusoe v good.

The Royal Institution Archive has the films of all of those lectures available still. I remember loving them as a kid. 1974 was Eric Laithwaite “The Engineer Through The Looking Glass”.

The historic, world record-breaking, events of Monday 30 December, with Paul Deacon, have already been recorded in a special piece on the topic – click here or below:

Breaking The World Record For Coin Catching With Paul Deacon, Woodfield Avenue, 30 December 1974

How I also had the time and energy to watch Call My Bluff & Churchill’s People on TV at the end of that record-breaking day I cannot quite fathom.

Tuesday 31 December 1974 -fair. Went to West End with Andrew [Levinson]. TV Engineer Through Looking Glass, Till Death Us Do Part v good indeed. SAW IN NEW YEAR.

That will have been the first time I was allowed to stay up to see in the new year. These days (50 years later), Janie and I see it as a badge of honour to try and get to bed and get to sleep before the worst of the noise kicks off.

Wednesday 1 January 1975 – cloudy. Uneventful morning. Dined at Schmidt’s. Grandma Anne at home in afternoon and evening. Helped mum win Kalooki.

Thursday 2 January 1975 – cloudy. Cleared out room. Went to barber. TV After That…This and Two Ronnies very good.

Friday 3 January 1975 – cloudy. Went to Brixton – v tiring. TV Crown Court, The Houndcats, Paper Moon, Ken Dodd & MASH v good.

Saturday 4 January 1975 – TV Dr Who, Bruce Forsyth, Match of the Day, v good. Went to Lytton’s. Played with Steven. Denise’s choc. moose was excellent.

I can hardly believe how much TV I watched back then. Match of the Day was not a feature in our house and I suspect I saw that because we were at The Lytton’s place. I think we were still Black and White TV at the start of 1975 – I think the colour TV “arrives” at some point in my 1975 diary, unless it arrived during my diary-writing-sabbatical in mid-1974. Point is, I remember quite a lot of the TV I describe here in black and white. I also remember colour seeming such a luxury.

Aficionados of my juvenile writing as a food critic might note my description of Denise Lytton’s chocolate moose as “excellent”. Praise indeed.

Mum, Me, Denise, Steve & Tony – guzzling peaches in Bulgaria, 1972

My very first diary entry, a year earlier, described Schmidt’s chocolate moose as “nice”.

I Diarist, My First Diary Page, 1 to 5 January 1974

Denise’s “excellent” sure beats Schmidt’s “nice”, and I remember Schmidt’s chocolate moose fondly. Big ups to Denise, albeit 50 years after the event, for that stunning chocolate moose. Never forgotten…or at least, now remembered in writing for posterity.

My Second Class At Alleyn’s School, 2AK, And Some Nicknames, guessing 1 January 1975

I have already published a piece about my first class, 1S and the names/nicknames I recorded at the back of my 1974 diary – click here.

In the same notes space at the back of my 1975 Letts Schoolboys Diary, I recorded the names and nicknames of the boys in my second class, 2AK:

1974-diary-2ak_0001

This material is even harder to decipher than the 1S equivalent – my use of bold tempo pens playing havoc with the thin paper of those diaries.  So, I set the text out below – apologies for replicated spelling errors, inability to decipher errors and for some of the ghastly nicknames:

Allott

Athaide

Bateman – Batman

Bedford – Bedders

Bradshaw – Brad

Brassell

Dalloway – Dallers

Deacon – Doormouse

Dwelly – Bone

Feeley

Forrest

French – Frog

Geere – Gottle

Goodwin

Gurney – LEFT

Handy

Hanton – Brucy

Harris

Hollingshead – Beachhead?

Jennings – Jumbo, Juggernaut, Jet

Johnson

Kelly

Masson – Chimpy (thanks to David French for the correction).

Pullinger – Tug

Proctor – Superproc

Reeves

Rowswell – Sandy

Spence – Spike

Stevens

Wahla – Gob

I don’t think Gurney was nicknamed “Left”, I think that is a note to say that he left the school.

Now many of the above nicknames are weaker and thinner than a supermodel on a crash diet. I know some of them were genuinely used, but I find it hard to believe that all of them had common currency…

…and surely the rest of us must have had nicknames of some sort at one time or another. My work in early 1975 was only part done and then I got bored – typical kid.

Surely some people out there can help fill in the blanks or put matters right, even after all these years? Comments and suggestions, please. Those from other classes are welcome to add their names and nicknames to the pile.

Breaking The World Record For Coin Catching With Paul Deacon, Woodfield Avenue, 30 December 1974

Deep AI “artist’s impression” of the historic event

In 2004 I was honoured to have formed part of a team, as a NewsRevue writer, that really did win a Guinness World Record – explained and illustrated in the piece linked here and below:

Ultimate Love and Happy Tories, Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Dinner, Café Rouge Holborn, 3 March 2017

But I had clearly forgotten that, 30 years previously, I was involved in another world record feat. The reference in the diary dated 30 December 1974 clearly reads:

Paul Deacon came for day – we broke world coin catching record.

Ok, so perhaps that record was not independently authenticated and certified. Perhaps the world coin catching record is not quite so prestigious as longest running live comedy show.

But a world record IS a world record and we broke it.

We went on to spoof the event in a rather childishly silly (even by our standards) recording we made in April 1977, by which time coin catching had become known as coin tossing, it seems:

Execution Scenes, Coin Tossers And Miscellaneous Silliness Recorded With Paul Deacon, 12 April 1977

I have no recollection of the rules of coin catching and how the world record was established. The 1977 recording might contain some clues, but only to the extent that “rules” and “establishment” probably played a very small part indeed. I’ll guess that the coin was tossed in a conventional “start of a match” stylee and then caught (or not),

More importantly, this diary entry is the first mention of Paul Deacon in my diaries and I actually think that day might well have been the very first time that the two of us got together during the school holidays to lark about.

In which case it was genuinely a milestone or seminal event, even if not genuinely a world record.

Postscript One

Paul Deacon has chimed in with some essential additional details:

Haha. I seem to recall I was good at stacking coins on the back of my elbow then catching them with a flick of the arm downwards. Also spinning a coin one handed. What a sad lad

Postscript Two

A link to this posting kicked off quite a controversy on the Alleyn’s 1970s Alumni Facebook Group. A veritable Coincatchgate.

For those readers who are members of that group, here is a link to that controversy.

My First Diarised Christmas Week, Including A Visit To Southend, A Cold, A Traditional Walk, And A New Doctor, 22 to 28 December 1974

Colourful and barely legible, please allow me to try and transliterate and explain my diary entries.

Sunday, 22 December 1974 – Went down to Southend. Got nasty cold. TV Planet of the Apes and No Honestly v good

Grandpa Lew & Grandma Jenny with Jenny’s sisters Sybil and Alice, Southend, 1950s.

Mum, Dad, Swains and Steels, Woodfield Avenue 1993

We would have been visiting Jack and Sybil in Southend back then, and or the Swain family. No pictures from the 1970s sadly, but Sybil can be seen in the 1950s picture and several Swains are there in the 1990s one. This 1974 visit would have preceded Garry Steel’s arrival on the family scene.

I don’t think I can blame Southend for the nasty cold – I think the cold must have already been there.

Monday, 23 December 1974 still got bad cold. In all day. TV Yogi Bear feature film, Dad’s Army, Mastermind 19-year-old lost and Horizon on trick photography or V good

The wonder of the web 50 years later enables me to discover that the Yogi Bear movie was named “Hey There, It’s Yogi Bear!” and the 19-year-old Mastermind wunderkind who nearly won was named Susan Reynolds – click here for the Mastermind story. My mum got very excited about that sort of thing back then. I got more excited about the Horizon film about trick photography, but I cannot find anything about that on the web. I seem to recall dad digging out some of his old books to show me more about that sort of thing; I still have those, somewhere in the attic!

Tuesday, 24 December 1974 still unwell. Cough. Home all day. TV Top Cat, Look Who’s Talking, Gulliver’s Travels, Christmas Likely Lads, and Peter Cook & Dudley Moore v good

I must have been googly-eyed after watching that much TV on one day. No wonder I didn’t feel well.

Wednesday, 25 December 1974 – Fair. Got presents. Traditional walk seventh year. TV Way Out West, Magnificent Men In Their Flying Machines and Futtock’s Corner [sic].

I think I meant “Futtock’s End” for that last entry. I remember dad finding that little film hilariously funny, as did I. I’m not sure it would work so well on me now that I am older…nor am I sure that I’ll take the time and trouble to find out.

Thursday, 26 December 1974 – Dined at Schmidt’s. TV A Man Called Flint, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Went to Barnetts’ for supper, v good, trifles specially.

I describe at length dining at Schmidt’s…and indeed the traditional walk to which I refer in my Christmas Day 1974 diary entry, in my very first entry in that diary – click here or below. The traditional seasonal walk with my dad must have started when I was six. I do remember it feeling like a very important custom/ritual throughout my childhood.

I Diarist, My First Diary Page, 1 to 5 January 1974

Barnetts’ in this instance would be the Cyril & Marion Barnett family next door. (Not Jonathan Barnett from school and his family in this instance.) Marion Barnett’s trifle was clearly not a trifling matter.

Friday 27 December 1974 – Sunny. [Fair crossed out] Andrew played and dined here. Doctor Who and Spiders v good.

I’m not sure who advised me to add a comment about the weather to my diary. This might have emerged from a conversation around me not knowing what to write about (hence my seven-month sabbatical during 1974). I didn’t manage to keep up the weather report consistently or for long. I scratched out that world from Boxing Day, so we’ll never ever know what the weather was like in London on that day…oh no, here we go, the internet can dredge up excruciating detail of this kind – click here. As for 27th December, why or when I changed my diary entry on the weather from “fair” to “sunny” is a weird one. This whole “write about the weather in your diary” business feels more like mum’s influence than dad’s.

“Andrew” will have been Andy Levinson, who will have schlepped all the way from No 42 to join us that day!

Saturday 28 December 1974 – Fair. Played alone. Went shopping. TV Generation Game v good and new Doctor Who v good

For those readers who have any televisual connection with that period, the reference to a new Doctor Who should spark the memory buds – here is a short video that showcases and contextualises the arrival of Tom Baker:

After Alleyn’s Advent Term: Comic Capers, Jolly Japes, Marathon Mania, Tempos & Timpos, 15 to 21 December 1974

Although sparse and almost illegible, the notes in my diary from that week bring back a flood of memories.

Here is the page for that week in its glorious technicolour sparseness and illegibility:

I was going through a “coloured tempo pen” phase at that time. I think the Saturday entry was written in invisible ink, which I then remedied with the “antidote” stuff that makes invisible ink visible. That is not conventional diarist method, I now realise, but that idea must have made sense to me at the time…probably because I had bought invisible ink from the joke shop that week.

Let me start deciphering diary entries:

Sunday, 15 December 1974 – Hanukkah party at classes. Dined at Feld’s. [Visited] Jacksons to teach backgammon. TV Planet of the Apes v good

Monday, 16 December 1974 – Played at Andrew’s all day. TV Likely Lads, Waltons and Carry On Christmas very good indeed.

Aficionados of Motown music will be disappointed to learn that I did not visit nor teach backgammon to The Jackson Five.

Just to be clear, I did not teach any of these people backgammon. Not Jackie, not Tito, not Jermaine, not Marlon and not Michael.

The Jacksons, in this instance, were Doreen Benjamin’s parents. Doreen’s mum, Jessie Jackson…yes, I know…was a very close friend of Grandma Jenny and Doreen was a very close friend of mum’s.

For the avoidance of doubt, I neither visited nor taught backgammon to the Reverend Jesse Jackson either

Tuesday, 17 December 1974 – Andrew and I went to “Bossils”? and Hamleys. Classes v good. Mum and dad went to [Angela and John’s] wedding. Fooled all with joke shop hot sweets.

With Hanukkah well before Christmas that year, I suspect that I had already received some seasonal gift money, as had Andy Levinson no doubt, so we were both in a position to treat ourselves on a big day out during the school holidays.

We probably knew where to go (e.g. Hamleys) because of a tradition we were lucky enough to be conjoined in when we were a bit smaller. Mrs Garrett, grandmother of our friend from the street, Bernard Garrett (no, not the Bernard Garrett depicted in the film The Banker), took us up to Hamleys with Bernard a couple of times in the early 1970s as a Christmas treat.

I’m not sure where the joke shop was – I recall visiting Davenports near The British Museum with Andy, but that must have been a different trip I think. I think the source of our joke shop sweets, stinkeroos and invisible ink was a joke shop at the Carnaby end of Soho.

“Fooled all with joke shop sweets” makes me think of the comics we used to read when we were little. I was allowed one a week; my comic of choice was Whizzer and Chips.

I’m sure the conceit that two comics had merged into one made me think I was getting as BOGOF by choosing Whizzer and Chips. Someone else in the street (possibly Andy Levinson) or maybe at Primary School (Alan Cooke?) was more the Beano type, so I would sometimes swap and get to see more than one comic in a week.

I think I had outgrown such comics by the age of 12, but I had clearly not completely outgrown the language I learnt from them. Yaroo!

Wednesday, 18 December 1974 – Dentist in the morning first thing. Essential filling. Andrew in afternoon. “Enhanced”? stinkeroo from the joke shop worked. Went to Fairfield Hall with Paul Deacon – very nice time there.

Mum and dad’s evening at Angela and John’s wedding feast had not been a total success, as I recall. Dad had rather overindulged and mum felt he had embarrassed her. This combination of mum berating and dad hungover was quite clear to me that next morning. Meanwhile I was suffering from my own collywobbles ahead of that trip to the dentist for an “essential filling”.

I have had very few fillings in my lifetime – this might have been my first one or possibly the second.

Our dentist was Harry Wachtel, a gentleman of n Austrian origin, who had been a refugee from the Nazis. He spoke with a thick Germanic accent and did not suffer fools gladly.

I didn’t think that Mr Wachtel had CCTV cameras in his surgery. Yet, a couple of years later, John Schlesinger recreated, in Marathon Man, the scene of that filling, with such exceptional accuracy…I’m now thinking that Harry Wachtel must have filmed that filling event and sent the rushes to John Schlesinger. There is no other possible explanation for the following movie scene:

I cannot remember what Paul Deacon and I went to see at The Fairfield Hall on 18 December 1974. Do you remember, Paul? In any case, many thanks to you, Paul, (or should I say, thanks to your folks) for treating me along with you. My diary suggests that we had a great time.

Thursday, 19 December 1974 – morning Andrews. Lunch at Andrews. Afternoon at home with Andrew -> Classes – TV Mastermind and Xmas Oneupmanship v good.

Friday, 20 December 1974 – Alan [Cooke] here all day – very nice indeed. TV Goodies and the Beanstalk very good. G Anne’s v good got lots of presents.

Saturday, 21 December 1974 – Made a start on model Auntie Pam gave me. TV “something clover v good”?

I’m going to guess that Cookie and I spent a fair part of that day playing the bespoke game we invented with my Hot Wheels car track and a rather motley collection of Timpo Wild West buildings, which we would half-heartedly construct at the end of the Hot Wheels run and then demolish with the Hot Wheels cars.

Maybe you had to be there…or maybe you had to be 10-12 to appreciate this activity, but Alan and I would spend hours at this activity. Hey, Alan – look at those e-bay links – it wouldn’t cost THAT much to recreate the scene. I’m sure Janie would understand and I’m sure we could make space here for yet more clutter.

Sadly, my terrible handwriting, together with the effluxion of time makes the TV element of my log illegible. Happily, BBC Genome comes to the rescue, enabling me to confirm that I rated Doctor In Clover “v good”.

End Term At Alleyn’s, A Big Moka & An Aufruf, 8 to 14 December 1974

Angela & John Kessler, this photo just nine months after their wedding

The diary page for this week is as colourful as it is (almost) unintelligible:

It is my profound belief that, although artificial intelligence can read the charred remains of 2000-year-old Herculaneum scrolls, the technology would still struggle to make sense of my diabolical writing and spelling from 1974

Allow me to try to interpret the above scrawl for you:

Sunday, 8 December 1974 – First light in play [Hanukah play at chedar, presumably]. Dined at Schmidt’s. The Great War, Sykes, David Copperfield and A Change Of Ground.

Monday, 9 December 1974 – Last full day of term. Uneventful. TV Waltons, Call My Bluff, and Horizon v good indeed.

Tuesday 10 December 1974 – Christmas dinner v good. Classes rehearsal. Mission Impossible and Rhoda v good.

Wednesday, 11 December 1974 – Rather uneventful. Left school 2 o’clock, Carol rehearsal. Disappearing World – Ongka’s Big Moka Rather amusing?????

I don’t much review television programmes (probably just as well given the amount of TV I was watching back then), but a few years ago I wrote up my memories of Ongka’s Big Moka, because it had such a profound effect on me, sparking my interest in South-East Asia/Oceania.

Ongka’s Big Moka, Television Documentary, 11 December 1974

Thursday, 12 December 1974 – Left school 2:20 carol service. Classes good. TV Mastermind good.

Friday, 13 December 1974 – Broke up today. Not a very good report…

…hardly surprising given the amount of TV I was watching in the evenings when I should have been doing my homework. Honestly…

TV Dad’s Army, Ken Dodd and MASH v good.

Saturday, 14 December 1974 – Went to ooof roof [John & Angela’s aufruf]. Meal was excellent. TV Run Wild Run Free film, Stanley Baxter, and Candid Camera very good indeed

I didn’t at the time spot the juxtaposition of watching the Melanesian tribal ceremony, Ongka’s Big Moka, and, a few days later, attending the Jewish tribal ceremony that was Angela and John’s aufruf. For those who don’t like to click, the aufruf is a tradition of calling up the groom in synagogue on the Saturday before the wedding.

I am glad that I gave that aufruf meal an “excellent” review 50 years ago, as that should please Angela and John ahead of their impending golden wedding anniversary. I do remember enjoying the aufruf event very much, conversing with the grown ups and feeling a little more grown up myself for the experience. I distinctly remember finding the film Run Wild Run Free rather childish and mawkish, perhaps in comparison.

What might seem a lot less grown up…and might please Angela and John a bit less, is my abiding memory that I insisted, in the build up to the day, on pronouncing the word “aufruf”…

woof-woof

…to the extent that I recall mum telling me, wagging finger style, that I was not to make that silly joke at the event.

I’m the curator of my own jokes now, mum