Saturday 28 June – Worked hard today – went to Levinsons briefly – [squiggle] etc. Mainly work.
Sunday 29 June – Did exam in morning – went to G [Grandma] Jenny in afternoon – watched cup final early evening – went for drink with Andrew after – met Mary etc.
I was working hard at that time, doing my accountancy exams (presumably that Sunday morning thing was a self-administered mock) while working full time and helping to bring dad’s business (he had sold the shop in Feburary) to a graceful closure with the tax authorities.
This was still less than a year after I left Keele; my diaries suggest that I almost exclusively spent my spare time with old friends from Keele apart from my work crowd and some of my old BBYO crowd.
This reference to spending time with Andrew Levinson is the first reference to an old friend from the street or school in 1986 (unless I’ve missed saomething on the skim).
“Mary etc.” I think must be a lovely young woman I knew at Keele named Mary who kept popping up wherever I happened to be in that first year after I left Keele. I remember bumping into her when I was doing accountancy courses in Latimer Road and also that she ended up in Streatham for a while.
I dread to think where Andrew and I went for that drink and therefore where Mary etc. were also hanging out back then – our end of Streatham was not great for pubs and I doubt if we wandered far. Horse and Groom most likely – it’s had a makeover fairly recently (he writes in 2020) but was well grimey back then.
…the diary suggests that I spent a couple of weeks seeing friends, buying records and making tapes – the perfect preparation for the 1983/84 academic year that would be my P3 year (i.e. fourth year at Keele, third and final year of undergraduate studies).
It seems I was enjoying myself so much I even got my days mixed up in the diary:
Wednesday 28 September 1983 – …went out for dinner with Jilly – came back here [Woodfield Avenue] after – late night
Thursday 29 September 1983 – Went to Brixton with Jilly in morning – lazyish afternoon – Andrew [Andy Levinson] came over late afternoon – dinner – wine bar
Frankly I wouldn’t have remembered that Streatham Hill had such a thing as a wine bar in those days. Perhaps it was new and we wanted to try it. I vaguely remember one in the 1980s on Sternhold Avenue – perhaps that was the one.
Saturday 1 October 1983 – went to visit Marianne [Gilmour] – pleasant lazy evening
Sunday 2 October 1983 – went to Makro with Dad in morning. Wendy [Robbins] came over in afternoon
My “business ” at Makro on that occasion was probably limited to a few record albums at discounted prices (see link to my October 1983 album purchase list) and some stationery for the forthcoming academic year. Goodness only knows what Dad wanted there.
Monday 3 October 1983 …went up West & to R&T today…
R&T meant “Record & Tape Exchange” as it was then named.
I bought lots of albums on that visit – the use of a different colour of ink listing them on my log tells me exactly which ones, so I have listed them in a separate article – click here or below.
6 October 1983 – went to shop with Dad in morning – went to office – met Caroline for lunch
I suspect I helped Dad prepare his books that morning, hence stopping at the office (Newman Harris) on my way to lunch. Efficient, I was, even back then.
7 October 1983 – …went to G Jenny’s in afternoon. Paul came over in evening.
8 October 1983 – Busy day packing etc. taping too – getting ready to come back to keele
9 October 1983 – Left early – came to Keele lunched at Post House – unpacked some – went to Union – quite dull
I can only imagine that this meant that Dad drove me up on this occasion, as I cannot imagine why else I’d have eaten at a roadside convenience place such as The Post House. Of course nothing much up at Keele would have been open on a Sunday. In the circumstances, The Sneyd would not have been a diplomatic choice.
I love my comment that the Union was quite dull – yet again, in my enthusiasm, I had come back to Keele ahead of the excitement. But there was plenty of fun, as well as hard work, to come in that Autumn 1983 term. watch this space.
Keele Students’ Union – only dull when there is no-one around.
I returned to Keele very soon after Christmas, for reasons that need no more explaining in this piece than they did in my last substantive piece for 1982.
Just A Few Days In Streatham, 23 to 28 December 1982
I basically just spent a few days in London with family and friends that year:
Thursday 23 December…went over to Wendy’s [Robbins] for the afternoon…
Friday 24 December…went over to [Andy & Fiona] Levinson’s…
Saturday 25 December…Benjamins [Doreen, Stanley, Jane & Lisa] came over in evening…
Sunday 26 December…went to [neighbours Eardley & Aidrienne] Dadonka’s in evening…
Monday 27 December …Italian meal [almost certainly Il Carretto]…met Jim [Bateman] in evening…
Tuesday 28 December …did some taping. Went to [John & Lily] Hoggan’s in afternoon. Nice Chinese meal [almost certainly Mrs Wong‘s]. Paul [Deacon] came in evening
Back To Keele For “Twelve Days Of Post-Christmas” Before the Start Of Term, 29 December 1982 to 9 January 1983
The diary mostly refers to hanging around with Liza O’Connor during that pre-term period.
On New Year’s Eve it seems that I made some dinner at Barnes L54, the menu for which is lost in the mists of time but it would have probably been one of my Chinese wok specials. We then went to the Boat and Horses in Newcastle for a New Year’s Eve party.
I have a feeling that Liza’s brother Liam was involved – possibly even the brains behind the idea. But it might have also involved Ashley Fletcher and/or Bob & Sally (Bob Miller and Sally Hyman). I certainly recall Bob having an affection for a Bass pub around there, but perhaps not that one and/or perhaps not New Year’s Eve.
It must have been a good night because it seems we dossed all day the following day, reporting only watching a film on (Alan Gorman’s) TV in the evening. New Years Day aged 20.
Friday 7 January – went to visit Simon {Jacobs] & Jon [Gorvett] today – went to pub, shopped etc.
I think those two must have been sharing a place off campus by then. I must ask them.
OK, I think I have assessed that those 12 days before the start of term do not contain a great deal of interest for the general reader. There are several mentions of doing some work, as well as several more of spending time with Liza.
In the interest of science, I have assessed the text and can provide the following, quantitative data about those 12 days.
Days spent with Liza but not working: six.
Days spent working and also seeing Liza: one.
Days spent working and not seeing Liza: four, three of which described as “did a little work”, only one described as “worked all day”;
As I have so few images from my Keele years, I thought I’d get DALL-E to help me depict that seasonal break. The above picture is a DALL-E image generated solely from the instruction:
Depict a University Student in January 1983 spending 12 days before the start of term dossing with his friends and girlfriend, doing a little work but not much.
Looks only a smidge like me, but more importantly I think DALL-E has erred on the side of the work rather than the dossing. Probably just as well.
Once my placement in the Far East (Braintree) had been curtailed, I was able to resume my more habitual holiday job routine, which seemed to have more to do with seeing friends for lunch and evening get togethers than head down graft in the audit and accounts factory that was Newman Harris.
A Social Whirl, 5 to 19 July 1981
A few mentions of busy days and hard work, but mostly a catalogue of non-work events:
Sunday 5 July – “visited grandma [Anne]”
Tuesday 7 July – “popped in to see Andrew [Andy Levinson] in evening”
Wednesday 8 July – “met Helen [Lewis] for lunch. Met Anil [Biltoo] and Jim [Bateman] for drinks in evening”
Thursday 9 July – “met Caroline [Freeman, now Curtis] for lunch”
Friday 10 July – “Wendies [sic – Wendy Robbins’s] ->Grannies [Wendy’s granny] for dinner -> Wendies [sic] for night”
Sunday 12 July – “met Jilly [Black] in town early evening
Wednesday 15 July – “met Caroline [Freeman, now Curtis] for lunch”
Saturday 18 July – “Mays [George and Winifred] came in evening”
Sunday 19 July – “visited Grandma [Anne] in afternoon”
A few local/Alleyn’s School friends at the start of this period. Andy Levinson lived in our street, so “popped in” really did mean walking two minutes up the road. Anil Biltoo & Jim Bateman for drinks was probably at UCL (where Jim did his summer jobs) and/or The Sun, as described in earlier articles.
Helen Lewis, a couple of years earlier
I’m pretty sure that lunch with Helen Lewis was the occasion that she presented me with Schubert The Sheep. He was named Schubert because there was some classical music playing in the restaurant where we took lunch. Neither Helen nor I could identify the piece but we both agreed that it was not Schubert.
Schubert still lives with me forty years on…in the depicted cupboard
Schubert’s 15 minutes of fame came a few years later, when he appeared on University Challenge as the Keele Mascot. A story for another time.
Visiting Wendy would have been in part as a fun catch up but also probably to help her plan the impending Streatham BBYO installations. I think she must have been outgoing President at that time. With apologies, I cannot recall who succeeded Wendy, but someone might well be able to help jog my memory.
Wendy, a couple of years earlier, at Nightingale
Lauren Sterling and Jenny Council will have attended that Streatham event in their capacities as Regional Grandees. I would have been there in my capacity as a local elder and former National Grandee, now so far past it, I can’t have offered much insight to the local club.
The Grandma Anne visits on Sundays at that time would have been to Nightingale. She had taken the death of Uncle Manny very badly and I think, from memory, that her cleaner/informal carer went away for a few weeks, so she arranged a temporary stay at Nightingale for respite and also as a bit of a tester for possible future need. The latter didn’t materialise as Grandma Anne died later that summer, but I do have an amusing tale from the end of her respite stay at Nightingale – watch this space for the next “forty years on” piece.
And So To Headingley, 20 & 21 July 1981
Hundreds of thousands of people claim to have been at Headingley for the dramatic turnaround and conclusion to the 1981 Ashes test match there, even though only a few thousand people actually witnessed the events.
I am not one of the people making false claims about my attendance…nor am I one of the people who actually attended Headingley on that Monday or Tuesday.
In fact my diary reads as follows:
Monday 20 July 1981 – Work OK did nothing in evening
Tuesday 21 July 1981 – OK Day. Lazy evening.
But I do remember following the cricket at work very clearly, especially on the Tuesday.
I was working in the large, high-ceilinged, “open plan”, Dickensian-look office at the front of 19 Cavendish Square. In that office, there was always a senior whose role it was to supervise/keep order amongst the junior clerks therein.
By the summer of 1981, Newman Harris had replaced Roy Patel (who I think had been promoted to a more interesting role) and hired instead a bespectacled, middle-aged chap, I think he was named John, who spoke with deep-voiced, nasal tones. I don’t think he much liked the idea of summer students – I remember him taking great pains to let us know that he was, “a graduate from the University of Life” and (although not a qualified accountant) he was “qualified by experience”. His management and mentoring style reminded me of Blakey from On The Buses:
Several people in our office were cricket lovers, but in truth there was little interest in the match for most of the Monday. I think word reached us that Botham was scoring runs for fun towards the end of the Monday, but it wasn’t until the Tuesday, after people had seen the highlights on Monday evening, that the interest levels really kicked off.
There were 10 or 12 of us in the office that day – perhaps half of us were interested in the cricket. John was one of the cricket lovers but was also there to maintain order.
Terry, the errand boy, did not reside in our office and I think he kept a small transistor radio in the cubby-hole where he did reside. Terry kept us appraised of the score a couple of times during the morning.
In those days, there was a telephone number you could call to hear the cricket score. It was a sort-of premium rate line. “Dial The Score On 154”.
As the match started to build to a climax, one or two clerks, unable to control their impulses, dialled the score. As a summer lackey, I was too timid to do that but grateful to the others for the news.
John berated the diallers. He explained that there was expense involved in making those calls and that we should all be concentrating on our work. John said that he would dial the score at suitably-spaced intervals and keep us all informed. I think he had 15 or 20 minute intervals in mind.
But as the match came to its climax, John was “Dialling The Score” compulsively, giving us close to ball-by-ball commentary in terms of the score as it progressed. We cheered when John announced that England had won the match. Then he told us all to put our heads down and concentrate on our work for the rest of the day. Goodness knows what John’s dialling did to the Newman Harris phone bill.
My lazy evening will have included watching the test match highlights…probably in black and white on the spare room TV, as neither of my parents cared a fig for cricket.
In case you are wondering, the denouement of that match looked like this.
This event came to me as a memory flash while in e-conversation with Rohan Candappa in December 2020 on the topic of that “limbo period” between Christmas and New Year. Rohan pointed out:
Limbo is a strangely schizophrenic word. It’s either a time when nothing is going on, or the most extreme dance you can imagine.
Suddenly it all came flooding back to me. The dinner & dance the day after my Barmitzvah. The Peacock Club in Streatham. The limbo dancer my parents arranged as entertainment for said evening. My limbo dancing “career”, not just remembered but I knew for sure that I have photographs.
Why the choice of limbo dancer for a Barmitzvah party? The answer to that question is truly lost in the mists of time. Some would suggest that it was a very “South London” choice. Others that it was an inappropriate choice steeped in cultural appropriation.
My guess is that someone dad knew through his photographic shop business was connected with the charming young lady in question.
Dorothy.
I know that she is/was named Dorothy because the pictures in my parent’s memory book / photo album have clearly been labelled “Dorothy”.
[Infantile readers may insert their own version of the joke revolving around the idea that “Ian was a friend of Dorothy when he was thirteen years old” here.]
Dorothy [Thinks]: What a funny little boy he is. Ian [Thinks]: I could be in here…whatever “being in” might be.
Dorothy showed us how it should be done.
Steve Lytton was one of several people who had a go. Unfortunately for him, his photo survived and has lived peacefully in my parent’s memory book for 45 years and counting:
Friends from the neighbourhood and school might recognise Andy Levinson in the background of the above and following picture. He’s hiding behind is mum. It seems he didn’t have a go at limbo dancing.
My technique showing real promise there. If only I had persevered with the practice, I could have been a contender.
Then Dorothy started to show off.
I mean, really, was that completely necessary?
Seriously, I do remember Dorothy being sweet with me and making the whole event feel special. She was clearly very talented at limbo dancing.
One day I’ll write up other aspects of my Barmitzvah. Sadly, for lovers of music and theology, there is a recording of me singing my rite of passage passage and I’ll feel Ogblog-honour bound to upload it, if only for the sake of completeness.
Anyway, the limbo dancing was great fun. Dad clearly felt that he had pulled off a blinder by booking Dorothy…
…while mum did far more dancing than was good for her, just three months after having a hip replacement:
Update/Footnote Post Publication
I managed to track down and get in touch with Steve Lytton after publishing this piece – it seemed only polite to let him know that his youthful limbo dancing efforts were now in the public domain.
It was really nice to catch up with Steve and e-chat after so many years.
One thing that Steve said solved at least part of the “why a limbo dancer at my Barmitzvah party” mystery:
…what a coincidence. We had a limbo dancer at MY Barmitzvah party…
…said Steve. The penny dropped. We had a limbo dancer at my celebration because I/we had so much enjoyed the limbo dancer at his, a year or so earlier. So the question now really should be, “why did Steve have a limbo dancer at his Barmitzvah party?” Or maybe it was simply the fashion for such parties at that time.
I didn’t much use the B word (“boring”) in my teenage diaries, but that word does crop up more than once during the first three weeks of April 1975, deployed recklessly, as I shall point out later in this piece.
Tuesday, 1 April 1975 played on my own. TV Flintstones, Edward VII. Made model plane.
Wednesday 2 April 1975 – went to Andrew’s [Levinson] in afternoon. Played snooker etc. TV 20th Century Fox Presents, Fight Against Slavery.
Thursday, 3 April 1975 – played tennis and football in morning with Andy [Levinson] and Stuart [Harris]. TV man about the house, are you being served, Dave Allen.
Friday 4 April 1975 – played with Andy in afternoon. In morning got record missing from library [?].
Saturday 5 April 1975 – went to Spurs in afternoon. TV Pot Black, Canon.
I cannot fathom what I am trying to tell my diary about the record library. I do recall borrowing a lot of records from the library over the years, probably starting around then.
I can convincingly report through the power of memory that Stanley Benjamin took me to see that match. My memory (as enhanced by Google) can also report that a star-studded Spurs beat Luton Town 2-1 that day.
Sunday, 6 April 1975 – classes morning. Kalooki in afternoon and evening. All square!? Times seven.
Monday, 7 April 1975 – played with Andy. TV Likely Lads, Alias Smith and Jones, Goodies, Horizon.
Tuesday, 8 April 1975 – went shopping. Classes, grammar, whole book!! TV High Society, Edward The Seventh.
Wednesday, 9 April 1975 – Paul Deacon came over for day. Nice time.
Thursday, 10 April 1975 – classes! Andrew in the afternoon. TV Man About The House, Are You Being Served?
Friday, 11 April 1975 – another boring day! Tennis Stuart Harris. TV Caribe, The Good Life, Within These Walls, ? by 10!
I can only apologise to my friends whose names are juxtaposed with the word boring. I am quite sure I meant to say, “boring day apart from…” rather than suggest that my activities with friends were boring.
Saturday, 12 April 1975 – went to Chelsea V Man City. Lost 0–1. Good match though.
Sunday, 13 April 1975 – Kalooki 4p. Classes pretty boring as usual. Benjahair turned up! Mini squidge joined.
I cannot work out exactly where those nicknames came from, or even in the case of the first one whose nickname it was. Benjahair might have been Alison Benjamin‘s nickname at that time. Mini Squidge was Graham Laikin, younger brother of “Squidge” who was Richard Laikin. I’m sure these lovely people will be thrilled to have their teenage nicknames dug out of the archives for posterity. This is what happens when information treasure troves are opened under the fifty year rule. 🤪
Monday 14 April 1975 morning uneventful. Afternoon Andrew and Henry. TV Likely Lads, Alias Smith & Jones, Goodies – goody goody yum yum!
Tuesday, 15 April 1975 – Andrew afternoon snooker 7-6 to me after 5-1 to him. Molivers [Josh & Sadie] came in evening. Nice day!
Wednesday, 16 April 1975 – hospital mum in within three weeks. Taken by Marjorie and Wendy [Levinson]. Brixton haircut. TV Survivors, Fight Against Slavery.
Coincidentally, a few days after writing this piece, I spotted “Auntie Marjorie’s car” in Waitrose, Ealing. The proud owner, who had recently acquired the car, was delighted that I wanted to photograph it:
I cannot recall who Henry was. If it was someone from Alleyn’s School, Henry is a nickname which has slipped my memory. Apologies. Perhaps a friend of Andy’s from his previous school, Dulwich Prep. Sadie Moliver was mum’s cousin, although a generation older than mum in fact. Sadie was one of the few people on the planet who terrified my mum. It might have been on this occasion that I helped make the tea and mum demanded in a trembling voice that I ensure that Sadie’s cuppa was strong or else she would denounce it…
“this tea tastes like piss”.
Sadie when much younger. Thanks to Sidney Pizan for the picture.
Thursday 17 April 1975. I’ve – went to Alan’s [Cooke] for day. Lovely time. Went to classes. TV Love Thy Neighbour, Are You Being Served.
Friday, 18 April 1975 – had diarrhoea! Went shopping. In afternoon saw film on TV: The Village, Husband of the Year, The Good Life.
I’m sure that many of my readers are appreciating this level of detail in my juvenile diary, especially the many readers who like to use Ogblog as mealtime reading. [Please insert your own joke along the lines of “verbal diarrhoea diary” here]
Saturday, 19 April 1975 went to see Chelsea V Spurs. Fighting on terraces. Lost 0-2. Boo. TV Pot Black final, G[raham] Miles won. Canon.
Regarding THAT football match, I remember the occasion quite clearly. Again I was with Stanley Benjamin & some other members of the Benjamin family in their season ticket seats. The scrappiness of the football can be seen in this “classic match” video:
The match, the violence and the long tail of resentment between the two sides is captured in this article – click here -one of many I could have chosen.
I didn’t feel any sense of danger, as my hosts knew (or at least held themselves out to be knowing) how and when to leave the ground to avoid trouble.
My parents, however, were unnerved by the fact that I was on my way home from a football match while they were seeing scenes of violence from the ground on the news.
It might have been that occasion, more than anything else, that made my parents a little more reluctant to let me go off to football matches, while being quite relaxed about me toddling off to see county cricket at The Oval.
Friends who have shown concern about my football allegiances at that time (Perry Harley – you might be one of many) will spot the clarity of my express emotions in the April 1975 diary – my heart at that time was with Chelsea. Whereas I can now honestly say that my heart is not with (or against) any football team.
For those who find snooker more to their taste than football, I have found that Pot Black final on YouTube too:
You might sense that I was becoming a little skittish for the last two days of that school holiday. Dig the final two holiday entries:
Sunday, 20 April 1975 – found snail (Sydney). Kalooki, won 22p. Nice day in all!
Monday, 21 April 1975 – went to Tooting. Played around. TV Likely Lads, Alias Smith and Jones, Goodies – a goody goody yum Yum.
What I did in Tooting and with whom I played around on that last day of the holidays is lost in the mists of time. Andy Levinson and/or Stuart Harris most likely.
The ultra violence of those London derby football matches was clearly starting to have an effect on us youngsters! 🤪
I somehow remained in the Lower School Orchestra that season, despite having shown no aptitude whatsoever for playing the violin, even though the violin was “the family instrument” on my mother’s side.
My mother’s pain at my musical ineptitude was exacerbated by the cruel fact that Andy Levinson, from our street, showed some real talent for the violin. How could that be fair? The Levinsons were a medical family. Andy should have been fiddling around with medical instruments, not literally fiddling with far more musical instrument success than Ian, who was, after all, trying his very best.
Me switching to the viola for a while didn’t help. For the March 1975 concert, I was consigned to the second violins, ensuring that I had a little less to do, thus causing minimal disruption to the overall sound of the orchestra.
“There are other options, little Ian. Have you considered viols, viola da gamba…”
Anyway, all of the above is context…as is the fact that my mum was still grumpy and still hobbling around the place in mid to late March, I think with walking sticks rather than crutches by then, having had her hip replaced in mid February.
Here’s the diary:
Here’s a transliteration of that diary page.
Sunday, 16 March 1975 classes good. Feld’s lunch. Came home with Grandma Anne. Kalooki 2p up. TV Golden Shot.
Monday, 17 March 1975 – Fives good. Prepared for Tuesday. TV Likely Lads, Alias Smith and Jones, Goodies/Rolf Harris.
Tuesday, 18 March 1975 – first day of concert. In my opinion a big flop. TV Flintstones (Rock Quarry)
I’ll return shortly to the question of whether or not the concert was a big flop.
Meanwhile, and far more interestingly, for some reason I thought it important to note the name of the Flintstones episode I enjoyed that same day. This meant that, 50 years later, I could track that episode down and include it in Ogblog. I might have had five thumbs back then but clearly I also had forethought.
Wednesday, 19 March 1975 – concert went well this evening. Watched Trial By Jury. Mr. Tindale very good indeed.
“It’s hard to tell how the concert went from these conflicting reviews, but the judgement on Mr Tindale as the judge is very clear”, Tindale J.
Thursday, 20 March 1975 – some good results. Classes good. TV Man About The House, Dave Allen.
Friday, 21 March 1975 – concert went well. TV Porridge, MASH.
Saturday, 22 March 1975 – went to 1st soccer match Chelsea V Middlesbrough. Concert, mum & dad, Trial By Jury.
I have written up my first ever visit to a football match – a visit to Stamford Bridge, previously – click here or below:
But had the concert been any good or not? We need evidence. Below is an extract from Mr Kingman’s Scribblerus review of the entire event, mostly covering the Psalm 150 bit which was the bit in which I participated.
If you are aching to read the entire review, including the review of Trevor Tindale’s performance in Trial By Jury, click here for a pdf of the full page.
Sunday. 23 March 1975 – classes mock Seder. Recorded Psalm 150 and me. Took up most of the afternoon and evening.
Good gracious! Is it possible that the recording of me & Psalm 150 has survived these 50 years? Of course it is more than possible.
Firstly, my rather lengthy intro, which is also a supplement to my diary notes, I suppose:
Then the five minute concert piece recording that apparently took much of the day. Arguably, that was not time especially well spent. Had I spent more hours learning my instrument than twiddling knobs on the tape recorder, who knows how my playing might have sounded. As it is, you need a trigger warning, only click if you have robust hearing and a broad mind:
Mercifully, that is the only known recording of my attempts with the violin.
My final recollection from the concert is my mother’s comment, in the form of a question, after my performance:
Why was your bow going up at the same time as everyone else’s coming down…and coming down while everyone else’s was going up?
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.
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.
DeepAI Imagines The 01 Once Daily Streatham Hill To London Bridge
We had our own special train that took us from Streatham Hill directly to North Dulwich (and then on to London Bridge). A great service for us Alleyn’s kids from Streatham Hill, not needing to change. It was even named/numbered the 01, perhaps in honour of its once a day status.
Of course it was not just for us Alleyn’s kids; there were kids from other schools – Tulse Hill Comp. and William Penn to name but two – on that train too. No self-respecting adults rode on that train as far as I can remember.
In the early days, there were very few of us from Alleyn’s who got on at the start of that run – possibly just me and Andy Levinson. We loved the fact that we could see the train in the siding and that it pulled into the station, seemingly for us.
Andy a couple of years later
Latterly for sure Rupert Jefferies, Justin Sutton and I think one or two others from Alleyn’s joined the train at Streatham Hill, but those guys I think started after the “mugging” described below.
Friday 21 February 1975 – “mugged” on train. TV Sportstown, Rhoda, Porridge and MASH v good.
I remember a fair bit about the incident, although I don’t think I could identify the brace of assailants now. In those days, British Rail had 10×10 person compartment carriages on those suburban trains. Andy and I usually had a compartment to ourselves, but on this occasion we were joined by two larger lads. They seemed well big to us, but we were 12; they might have been 15 or 16.
Hey boys, they shouted, have you got any money…and we said…
…very little. We had very little money. We were schoolboys who had no need for money on a regular school day, so I suspect we had a couple of bob between us. (That’s 10p if younger readers are unfamiliar with the terminology).
We gave them what little we had and then, I remember this so clearly, the assailants sort-of boxed…pretty much just slapped, our ears, perhaps in frustration at the paucity of their haul and/or possibly because our suits betrayed the fact that we were from a posh school.
Ultra-violence it wasn’t, which is why my diary entry used the term “mugged” rather than, for example, MUGGED.
Saturday 22 February 19 75 – TV Doctor Who, Walt Disney. David Aarons – Monopoly, I won. [He] taught me gin rummy.
Two Saturdays in a row my parents must have gone out, two Saturdays in a row David Aarons (one of Lionel & Dina Aarons’s children) came around. Mum and dad must have been fitting in a few socials ahead of mum going in for her hip replacement.
At age 12-and-a-half, I clearly didn’t have it in me to use the term “babysitting” in my diary, but that is what this would have been. David could have only just turned 16 by then. Prior to David, it was quite often one of his big sisters, Ruth or Judith, who would babysit for me. They had probably outgrown that role by then – indeed one of them at least was probably already at University by then. I don’t think the fourth Aarons “kid”, Robert, ever babysat for me.
I remember those sessions with David well. My perception was that he treated me more like a grown up than his sisters. Possibly I WAS quite a bit more grown up with him, or at least a fair bit closer to his age and stage of life. I do remember him teaching me games, although I had quite forgotten that he set me on the road to Gin Rummy. I remember him using some choice phrases that I liked and emulated for a while. I especially liked:
Expletive deleted…
…when indicated a desire to swear but the restraint to avoid doing so. I still use that one occasionally. I was saddened to learn that he died of brain cancer tragically young.
Sunday 23 February 1975 – classes good. Chinese good. Came home after lunch. TV The Great War, Who Do You Do.
Monday 24 February 1975 – went to visit mum in hospital. TV Goodies, Call My Bluff.
Tuesday 25 February 1975 – went to visit mum again. Rather uneventful day. Saw muggers in next door café.
Dad couldn’t cook to save his life, so while mum was in hospital having a pre-operation (plate removal from a failed attempt to avoid hip replacement) ahead of her hip replacement surgery, we ate almost every night in restaurants and cafes – either in Streatham, Camberwell or somewhere inbetween.
I recall the fact that I spotted the previous week’s assailants in a cafe just a few days later and pointed the fact out to my dad. It was one of those moments when you realise that your dad is not the all-embracing protector that your childhood assumes him to be. I can’t remember exactly what dad said, but it would have been something along the lines of…
…put it out of your mind, son.
It’s possible that he didn’t believe that I had really spotted the right guys. After all, even the police had a lousy reputation for identifying and nailing the right young criminals in such circumstances.But I’m equally sure that dad would have, quite rightly, felt loathe to take on such a situation.
Wednesday 26 February 1975 – went into Uncle Cyril’s cos of operation, went to [Cyril’s] shop, masala yum yum, played chess and I won!
Uncle Cyril in this instance is our next door neighbour Cyril Barnett. This was probably the first time that Cyril and his wife Marion took me in the back of their van up to Chalk Farm to deliver stock to his shop and have a treat at Marine Ices as a reward for helping them.
What would “elf & safety” say about a 12 year old kid rattling around in the back of a van with a whole load of shutters on rails? We could probably have Cyril and Marion taken away in chains for that today, but back then we all rolled with such risks and I rather enjoyed the thrill of those van rides…
Cyril: proof positive that you can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs
…and I absolutely loved Marine Ices masala-flavoured ice cream. I fear the place has now gone, so you’ll just have to take my word for it.
Thursday, 27 February 1975 – visited mummy after shop. Dinner, “Adam’s Ribs”. TV The Roman Way, Dave Allen At Large.
”Dinner Adam’s Ribs” is a reference to a segment in MASH, where one of the characters was dreaming about his favourite Chinese spare ribs restaurant, which was named Adam’s Ribs. After visiting mum in Kings College Hospital, Dad and I found a Chinese restaurant in Camberwell where we both thought the spare ribs especially fine, so we declared that they were Adam’s Ribs.
Friday 28 February 1975 – Went to shop. Visited mummy. TV Porridge and MASH..
Saturday 1 March 1975 – Went to Andrew after school. Played snooker. Visited mummy again.
Mum was in hospital for 10 days or so, I think, preparing to having her Stanmore inserted in May.
It is strange sitting writing this article in the clinic, almost 50 years to the day that mum started the process of a hip replacement, having just yesterday had mine replaced. She got 40 years out of hers, I doubt if I’ll need or want 40 years out of mine!
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 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:
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”.
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.
