I had returned to Keele in Autumn 1983 armed with my copy of Punch The Clock
At times I really didn’t write enough in my diaries. This last week of October 1983 is an example of that.
Put aside the fact that I went to see three films that week without noting any of the film titles. Anyone out there keep notes on Film Soc 1983/84? Where’s Keele Film Soc archivist Tony Sullivan when you need him? – I think Tony had left Keele by then, unfortunately.
Worse yet, I cannot recall what led to the Monday note:
…Busy day – classes etc. Const[itutional] Comm[itee] in eve – confusion in Union!…
I don’t think the confusion and the committee meeting were connected, but maybe they were.
Perhaps the confusion was connected with the other aspect of my memory which I am pretty sure was that week, which was news of the tragic, sudden death of Adam Fairholme.
As I remember it, Adam had gone into town with friends to see a movie and had succumbed to an epileptic fit. No-one in the party had known what to do to reduce the risk of serious injury or death in such circumstances and Adam had tragically choked on his own tongue.
I remember in particular discussing with Ashley Fletcher the irony of our last evening with Adam, given the film’s title, together with the unquestionable fact that, had Adam had his fit while with us, we wouldn’t have known what to do in those circumstances either. Possibly we would have instinctively done something different and helped save him. More probably, we’d have been in the same helpless situation as his companions that night, who must have been in great distress.
…a role which I think Adam really wanted, whereas I ran for that election more than a little reluctantly. I vaguely remember Ashley making an off-colour joke about me now unquestionably being better qualified for the role than Adam…and then feeling badly about even thinking such a line, let alone speaking it.
Adam was a very decent fellow. His family, his friends, Keele and who-knows-what beyond was deprived of one of the good people when he died so young.
I am pretty sure the heavy drinking session and resulting hangover Friday/Saturday was in part a sorrows-drowning exercise with regard to Adam.
…went to party in Thorns – drank to[o] much
Saturday 29 October 1983 – Felt very ill when I rose – Hungover wasn’t the word. Recovered in time for Elvis Costello concert – brill.
Here I’m going to give myself a big gold star, as my memory sensed that this concert was at Victoria Hall Hanley, not in the Union. Checking in to the Elvis Costello wiki enabled me to confirm my memory and indeed to see more about that gig on a web page than I could possibly have imagined – click link below for all the details of the tracks played and even a link to the Evening Sentinel review that followed:
I cannot remember who came with me to that concert. Simon Jacobs, Keele’s one-man Elvis Costello Fan Club, had left Keele that summer and tells me that he is sure he did not return for that gig. Yet in my mind Simon was there. I cannot imagine having seen Elvis Costello perform without Simon being there.
Latterly, in the 1990s, as I report elsewhere, I got to know Elvis Costello surprisingly well, as we were both members of Lambton Place (now BodyWorksWest). I chatted with him idly for years before asking him what he did for a living and then, when he said he was in the music business, asking him his name.
Simon Jacobs is just about still talking to me after I told him about that. At least I hope Simon is, otherwise next week’s meal (I say, reporting 40 years after the Hanley concert) will be a rather quiet one.
A hyperactive week to say the least, from Monday onwards, following my “Union – quite dull” diary comment on the preceding Sunday.
The diary page for that week will need some unpicking, forty years on. Stuck together with ancient, yellowing Sellotape, some aspects might best be left unpicked.
Monday 10 October 1983 – Busy sorting things out today – went to town etc. Ashley [Fletcher] came for dinner -> Union – saw loads of people.
Tuesday 11 October 1983 – Lots to do today – did a little work – etc. Went to Union in eve – saw more people.
Hello people! I’m sure you all know who you are…who you were…whoever you are/were. Sometimes I really wish I’d written more down.
Wednesday 12 October 1983 Busy day – did a little work – went to [New] ‘Castle [Under-Lyme]. Showed Pete [Wild] around – went to Freshers Union do in eve.
For 1983/84, the Barnes L54 line up was supposed to be me, Alan Gorman, Chris Spencer and “A. N. Other-Person”, the name of whom escapes me. Indeed I cannot recall anything about that fourth person other than the fact that they, like Ahmed before them, failed to make the cut for the 83/84 academic year and we had a vacancy. Chris Spencer might remember and I am now in touch with him again. Alan is sadly no longer with us, although I have made contact with his family in the USA.
One might be forgiven for wondering whether Barnes L54 was cursed, as a 25% drop out rate was way above the Keele norm at that time. But certainly those of us who remained were blessed rather than cursed, as these happenstance thrown together flatmate groupings somehow worked and thrived. Chris, Alan and Pete stuck with it the following year, when Hayward Burt signed up for the fourth place in Barnes L54 and **SPOILER ALERT** all of them actually took up residence as planned!
My immediate take on Pete was that he was fun and would fit in, which he did. The rest of us already had flat nicknames and his emerged pretty quickly and obviously:
Chris Spencer – “Farmer” – from Devon, you understand;
Me – “Bagel Boy” – I could probably have them all arrested for that now;
Pete – “Hippy” – see hair in headline photo.
Thursday 13 October 1983 – Busyish day – Exam in afternoon etc. Union in evening – drank a little went to see Amazulu.
I cannot recall what the exam might have been right at the start of term. The only thing I can imagine was that it was an econometrics exam, as that discipline was meant to test our ability to analyse numbers from our instinctive/unconscious competency in economics rather than from swatting.
Amazulu were great live, I recall. A good choice for Freshers week. They were little known at that time, but certainly lit up the ballroom that night. Here’s a clip of Amazulu live in London a few months later:
https://youtu.be/HYPD24des44
Friday 14 October 1983 – sorted things out departments etc. – went to town in afternoon. Went to Michelle’s [Epstein]. Went to see [Monty Python’s The] Meaning Of Life in evening -> Lindsay – The Man Upstairs – Ros came back
Saturday 15 October 1983 – Got up late. Liza [O’Connor] came around – stayed until early evening – went to Union in eve – Bobby [sic – ie Bobbie Scully][ came back stayed till late
Sunday 16 October 1983 – Easyish Sunday – rose v late- did some things – went union in eve with Ash [Ashley Fletcher]
I’m not blooming surprised I “rose v late” on the Sunday.
Sometimes I’m really glad that I didn’t write more down. To my shame I cannot even recall who Ros was in this context.
Ashley Fletcher might remember, at least in terms of who came with us to see The Meaning Of Life – I know it was a reasonably sized group of us and for the saddest of reasons, which I’ll write about in a couple of week’s time, I recall at least one of the people who was with us that night.
I guess “forty years on” history pales into insignificance when you lose yourself in “400+ years on” material.
I also want to write a bit about The Man Upstairs, which was a band comprising Keele students hat did many gigs around the campus in the early 1980s. They were a good bunch and were able to get the Keele students going with their fashionable live sound. Warmly remembered by many of us.
I think they had left Keele by the autumn of 1983, so were returning as a touring band that happened to comprise Keele alums. Here are links to some of their stuff…
Actually I worked in 19 Cavendish Square, not 19a (depicted). I subsequently (many years later) went to the dentist/hygienist in 19a. Any resemblance between tooth pulling and me working as an accounts clerk in the university holidays is purely coincidental.
The summer of 1983 was to be the last of my summer holiday jobs working for Newman Harris in London. Two-and-a-bit years later I started working for that firm full time as a trainee, but that’s another story.
As with previous summer jobs, I spent an awful lot of time meeting up with people for lunch and after work. I also visited Keele during that summer – a benefit of having retained the Barnes L54 flat, along with Alan Gorman and Chris Spencer, for a further year.
I’ll set out my diary pages below and try to translate/transliterate them. The very first reference on my first day of work, “VL”, refers to Laurence Corner (the V stood for Victor), where I spent a fair chunk of that summer, as I had done previously in my summer jobs. Forty years on, I am still in touch with DJ and Kim from there – not least because I met Janie through Kim in 1992 and the rest, as they say, has been history.
In July 1983 though, I was struggling with my sophomoric romantic travails with Liza. I did not want to seem to be pandering to my mum’s unreasonable aversion to the relationship…in truth I think mum had an aversion to me having ANY romantic relationship at that time…while in truth I had emotionally “checked out” by the end of the summer term, as reported in the last instalment…
…I just couldn’t see the Liza relationship working for me the following academic year.
There’s the context, so hold on to your hats for the deeds extracted from the diaries.
Monday 4 July 1983 – Started work – v busy. VL etc – unpacking etc evening
Tuesday 5 July 1983 – Work – v busy. Met Jilly [Black] for lunch [probably that Italian place on Henrietta Place where you could sit and eat in a railway carriage]. Unpacked till late
Wednesday 6 July 1983 – Busy day at office – Paul [Deacon] came over in evening. [I think there’ll be some good “mix tape” pieces from the summer of 1983, as Paul was in top form that summer with his record finds etc – my own form was not bad that summer either]
Thursday 7 July 1983 – Lots of work – stayed in this evening
Friday 8 July 1983 – V Busy – stayed in eve & relaxed
Saturday 9 July 1983 – Lazy day today – went shopping in Brixton -> G Jenny for tea – lazy eve
Sunday 10 July 1983 – Lazy day – did some reading – relaxed, ate, etc.
Grandma Jenny still lived in Sandhurst Court, Acre Lane, in those days, making a shopping trip to Brixton ahead of visiting her for tea a natural progression.
I expect you’ve got the gist of these summer diary pages by now, so I’ll only extract the highlights that might use some explaining from now on.
Tuesday 12 July 1983 – …met Caroline [Freeman, now Curtis] for lunch…Paul [Deacon] came round in evening – went over to Andrew [Andy Levinson, who also lived in Woodfield Avenue]
Friday 15 July 1983 – Office Ok – much work – left early. Went up to Keele – stayed in eve…
Saturday 16 July 1983 – went pub in morning – afternoon Ashley [Fletcher] came over – v tired crashed out early…
Sunday 17 July 1983 – then up late – ran late – brekker – lazy day – left in eve – got back a little late.
Forty years on, I’m struggling to process that weekend in my mind. I sense that I was finding full time work tiring that summer – I think there was a bit of a heatwave on that year – but the weekend in Keele looks quite topsy-turvey to me and I’m guessing that some aspects are unwrit and unremembered, at least by me. Ashley might remember a bit more once he sees the diary write up. Perhaps that weekend was the “dancing and mud cricket in the rain” occasion:
Wednesday 20 July 1983 – …went to Wendy’s [Robbins – in Bromley back then] in eve – v pleasant.
Thursday 21 July 1983 – …met Caroline for lunch …
Friday 22 July 1983 – Work OK – deadlines. Went to Annalisa’s [de Mercur, who lived in Harley Street in those days] for lunch and went for a drink with Marianne [Gilmour, daughter of Geoffrey, also doing holiday work at NH those summers] – Paul came over later.
Saturday 23 July 1983 – …had haircut… [a rare and therefore diary-worthy event back then]
Sunday 24 July 1983 – Lazy day – nice lunch (Chinese) [probably at Mrs Wong’s] Finished with Liza in eve – not nice.
I vaguely recall seeking counsel from several friends in the run up to the Sunday call with Liza, which possibly in part explains the social whirl of the end of the week. I’m not going to pretend that I handled the matter well, but I was bringing little or no experience to the matter. In any case, it isn’t a situation that lends itself to being handled well.
Monday 25 July 1983 – …Ashley [Michaels, from NH, not Fletcher from Keele] took me to lunch…
Thursday 28 July 1983 – …met Hamzah [Shawal, my departing Keele flatmate – I think this was the last time I saw him] for lunch…
Friday 29 July 1983 – …went for drink with Ashley [Michaels] and Dilip Vora] after work …
Saturday 30 July 1983 – …went over to Paul’s for afternoon…
Sunday 31 July 1983 – Did little today. Set up hi-fi. Met Liza in Edgware – drank quite a lot!
I vaguely remember that evening in Edgware. I think Liza’s brother Sean and sister-in-law Marlene had invited her down with a view to setting up a face-to-face between me and Liza. Possibly they wrongly envisaged a possible reconciliation if Liza and I met in person. In any case it was a grown-up ploy, because breaking up by phone had been far from ideal; I think (hope) Liza and I parted on better terms as a result of that very boozy evening.
In July 2022, we’re having a heatwave. The brain addles, but also the odd memory flash arrives.
39 years ago we also had a heatwave, right at the very end of the 82/83 academic year, at Keele.
It was probably the only period in all my years at Keele when I (and many of us) felt stifled by the heat up on that hill.
I have one very clear memory of that heatwave, from when the weather broke. The sky darkened, there was thunder and it started to pour with rain, much like a tropical storm.
Ashley Fletcher
There were very few students still around. It was either right at the very end of the summer term or possibly even after term had finished; I returned to my Barnes flat (L54) at Keele for a weekend or two that summer, as I was going out with Liza O’Connor from The Sneyd at that time.
I remember that Ashley Fletcher was around at the flat when the weather broke; Ashley immediately said, “let’s go outside and dance in the rain”.
Several other people came out of other flats onto the edge of the playing fields and danced with us.
Although it was 1983, I don’t think we quite managed to emulate Flashdance…
…but still – what a feeling!
Anything to add, Ashley?
Postscript: Yes, Ashley Did Have Something To Add…
…pseudonymously – only because it is my tradition for King Cricket to provide noms de guerre for my friends…or should I say, for Ged Ladd’s friends:
The last few decadent days of my P2 year at Keele, 1982/1983, revolved quite a lot around The Sneyd Arms.
By the end of June, my girlfriend Liza O’Connor was back at the Sneyd, working off the rent money she had needed to move in with friends Mike and Mandy in Stoke for the second half of her first year at North Staffs Poly (see Ogblogs passim).
Festival week was over, so there was a real “end of year” laziness about Keele by then.
Seems I got my Tuesday and Wednesday mixed up at one point
Tuesday 28 June 1983 – Lazyish day. Ashley [Fletcher] came over in afternoon -> graduation -> Hanley – Return Of The Jedi -> Chippy.
“Graduation” was neither mine (I graduated in absentia in 1984 – more on that anon) nor Ashley’s (Ashley in the end chose not to complete his degree). But it was quite traditional to turn up at the back of Keele Hall and help those whom we knew who were graduating to celebrate their occasion.
The way the diary note is phrased, I’m guessing that Ashley must have joined us on that trip to Hanley to see Return Of the Jedi. I remember Liza being so incredibly keen on all things Star Wars and insisting that I simply must see that film with her that I don’t in truth remember anyone else being there apart from the two of us. Probably there were several of us, including Ashley and others.
I can still in truth say that I have never seen Star Wars and indeed that the only film from the entire franchise that I have ever seen is Return Of The Jedi on that historic occasion in Hanley.
This type of movie didn’t float my boat then and still doesn’t.
Wednesday 29 June 1983 – Part One results. Lazy day – Ashley came – got pissed -Liza and Martin came over – watched TV in evening -> Sneyd.
[Might that Martin have been you, Martin Ladbrooke?]
I watched very little TV in those days, but my flatmate Alan Gorman had left his TV behind in the flat for us to use during those bits of the summer when we were around, so on that evening we watched some TV. Couldn’t tell you all we watched but I’m pretty sure we did watch an episode of Blackadder, or more accurately The Black Adder, which I remember finding very funny.
I simply wouldn’t have imagined, back then, that 20 years later I’d get to know that show’s producer, John Lloyd, quite well:
Thursday 30 June 1983 – Lazy day – shopped by day – spent lazy and decadent afternoon & evening.
Friday 1 July 1983 – Easy day. Went to see Phil Rose [my law tutor] in morning – easy afternoon & evening.
Saturday 2 July 1983 – Packed during day. Lazy afternoon. Went to Micky’s Bistro in evening.
I only have the vaguest memories of Mickey’s Bistro. Newcastle-Under-Lyme I am pretty sure. Not the best but not the worst either.
Sunday 3 July 1983 – Mum & Dad came up. Lunch at Sneyd. Came down to London.
Now there was an awkward situation. Mum was totally discombobulated by me going out with pub landlord’s daughter who did not exactly fit my mother’s image of the nice Jewish girl mum was hoping for. Not that mum ever approved of nice Jewish girls she got to meet through me either, as I recall pointing out to her on the several occasions we argued over this matter in the early stages of that summer.
To add to my confusion over the matter, I was mentally checking out of the relationship with Liza myself, but sure as hell didn’t want mum to think that she could kick up a stink over my choice of girl and get her way by making a fuss.
“So what happened?”…I hear hundreds of readers cry. You’ll have to read the next instalment or three of this epic. It’s like the Star Wars saga…except without the action and without the violence and without creatures from other planets and without the cosmological dualism.
It’s hard to believe quite how much went on in that one frantic week at the end of the Keele 1982/83 academic year. Let me divide the story/stories into their several component parts.
First Part Of The Week – Cricket On & Off
Cricket has played an important part in my life, on and off, throughout my life. But it played only a tiny part in my life at Keele. Still, I did participate in three festival week “Players Of The Left v Gentlemen Of The Right” cricket matches over the years, 1983 being the second of the three. These have each been written up on Ogblog and also as a single piece about my cricket nom de plume, Ged Ladd, on the King Cricket website:
Aficionados of “noms de plume” might enjoy the idea that my 1980s Keele Concourse non de plume, H Ackgrass, is writing a cricket biography of my subsequent nom de plume, Ged Ladd.
My participation in the 1983 match started with a net session on the Monday before the match. How I performed in the nets is lost in the mists of time, but my “thanks for coming” level of involvement in the fixture was probably the result of that net performance. The late, great Toby Bourgein, bless him, was loyal to the extent that he selected me again, given that I played as a last minute substitute in 1982…
Yet there was more to that week for me than cricket, as the diary attests…
…despite the fact that the 1983 Cricket World Cup was coming to its exciting (and probably cricket history transforming) conclusion. I wrote up Wednesday 22 June 1983 a few years ago, the concluding phrase, “tired and pissed off after” still resonating with my older (but perhaps not much wiser) psyche:
There are references to seeing several movies that week, which certainly warrants a mention. Not least because the least famous of them sticks in my mind peculiarly.
Thursday 23 June 1983 …went to see Young Frankenstein and Wild Women Of Wongo.
Probably chosen by Liza and her art school gang, although I have always been a sucker for animated films and I remember this one being very well animated, although not really my first choice of subject matter. I should try and see it again some time.
Third Part Of the Week – Wendy Robbins Visits & The Keele Festival Week Socialising Is In Full Sway
Wendy Robbins c1979
In fact Wendy Robbins had arrived ahead of us all going to see The Secret Of NIMH so undoubtedly was with the group that went to that movie and then came back to L54.
Wendy was an old friend of mine from Streatham BBYO (youth club) and even earlier. When you are 20, people whom you have hung out with throughout your teens are “old friends”.
As was his wont, my flatmate, Alan Gorman, had fled Keele as soon as his study commitments had concluded, allowing me to invite Wendy and provide her with a room in our flat. I think Hamzah had already gone too. Indeed, Chris Spencer might also have disappeared ahead of festival week that year, so perhaps I and my friends had the entire run of the place.
Whoever else might have been there, the flat for sure became “festival week/end of year central” in my Keele world for that weekend.
Saturday 25 June – Went shopping in morn – Ashley [Fletcher] came over in afternoon – we all went to Candles – P? came over after
Sunday 26 June – Lazy day – late rise. Played cards etc. Ashley ? went to union in eve – I went meet Liza – pissed off ???
I’m not 100% sure what the pissed-offness was about. I know that Liza had taken a job to help pay off her share of rent for Shelton and I know this put strain on her participation in the end of Keele year social activities.
I also recall that Liza didn’t take too kindly to Wendy, for reasons I could and still can only surmise.
The diary for the next week says that Wendy left on the Monday – I took her to Hanley so I guess she came up by coach.
Forty years on, Wendy and I are still in touch, although i haven’t seen her for a while.
Me, Jilly, Simon [Jacobs], Andrea & Wendy in 2017. Janie took the picture so once again she isn’t in it!
The cricket world cup final of 1983 changed the world of cricket pretty much overnight. Spoiler alert: India beat the mighty West Indies, at which point the entire population of India, which previously had not really seen the point of one day cricket, suddenly got it and adopted the shorter form of the game, for ever.
Meanwhile I was at Keele enjoying Festival Week and the entire event went unmentioned in my diary and probably largely unnoticed by me, other than reading about it in the newspapers afterwards.
That Saturday diary entry reads:
Went shopping in morn – Ashley came over in afternoon – we all went to Candles – Pat came over after.
“All” will have included Liza O’Connor (then my girlfriend) and Wendy Robbins who was visiting for a few days, as well as Ashley Fletcher.
Candles was a restaurant – in Hanley if I remember correctly.
I owe Pat a massive apology but I cannot recall who he (or she) might have been. Pat has other similar mentions in the diary around that time but those mentions aren’t helping my memory. Perhaps someone else (or Pat personally) might find this piece and chime in.
I do recall a bit of an atmosphere during that Wendy visit; I’m not sure that Liza appreciated Wendy’s presence and I’m pretty sure that I didn’t appreciate Liza’s lack of appreciation.
Wendy was (and still is) a big personality and I suspect that Liza felt somewhat upstaged. We were all very young then.
The UGM That Never Was (Photo: KUSU-Ballroom-1962-John-Samuel)
Don’t ask me why 7 March 1983 was noteworthy in my diary as “UGM That Never Was…”. Presumably some of us sat around for some time hoping for a quorum but the quorum never came.
Lots of mentions of Liza visiting me and even me visiting her at The Sneyd, so any hangover form my post-glandular-fever grumpiness had presumably abated…
…lots of activity and lots of mentions of being busy…although I do recall getting uncharacteristic waves of fatigue for many weeks after my release from the Heath Centre.
Friday 11 March 1983 – Rose early – did quite a lot of things. Alan went home – election appeals – went to see film with Liza – back here after…
…I think Alan had some serious partying to do back home that weekend and had finished all of his course work for the term that Friday. I recall that Alan returned to Keele several weeks later looking a whiter shade of pale green, having been out on the lash with his mates just before returning to Keele. I wondered whether a single binge-boozy-party had been sustained throughout all of those weeks and asked him that very question.
ALAN: Feels a bit like that today.
ME: You look a very funny colour, to be honest.
ALAN: You haven’t exactly looked rosy-cheeked yourself lately, mate.
ME: Fair point.
But I digress.
I’m irritated that I didn’t write down the name of the film that Liza and I saw that night – but I needn’t have worried. A private message to Tony Sullivan, Filmsocista extraordinaire from that era, secured the vital piece of information.
…Liza, Mandy and I went to Hanley, saw Rocky Horror…
This must have been the Theatre Royal Hanley production – the theatre had just reopened in a new guise and I think we saw a pilot or preview version of the production of Rocky Horror that ran there for years. There is a wonderful web page of memories from that production on this “Memories Of Theatre Royal Hanley” WordPress site. (If anything ever goes awry at that site, here is a scrape.) Also this newsreel footage from when the resulting touring production closed in 1988. Lots of Keele students must have seen this show in the 1980s:
I had seen the stage production of Rocky Horror in London in the late 1970s with my BBYO pals, so felt very much “ahead of the curve” in the company of Liza and Mandy that night – a rare feeling in the matter of the arts with Liza and her “art school crowd”.
To add to the horror, I did a class test on the Tuesday morning (15th March) which must have been the formal last day of term as I signed on 16th March. [For younger readers who haven’t been following this series avidly for years, “signing on” was something students all needed to do each holiday if we wanted in effect to have our grants extended to cover holidays. The thought of the bureaucracy required to have most higher education students signing on and off the dole three times a year is truly mind-boggling.]
Friday 18 March – Easyish day – did a little work – watched TV in eve with Hamzah and Yazid.
Hamzah Shawal was my Bruneian flatmate. Yazid was one of the Malay guys who lived in a Q-Block Barnes flat with three other Malay guys, not too far away from our Barnes L-Block flat. I have no idea what we watched, but it is interesting that it was such a rare thing for me to do that I noted the fact that we watched TV. We might well have watched The Tube early evening, as Bono was interviewed that day:
I’m pretty sure this would have been one of the rare occasions I cooked for the South-East Asian gang, rather than them cooking for me. They were quite strict on Muslim dietary laws, which rather restricted my meat-based diet.
However, I did have a couple of tricks up my sleeve which satisfied their religious structures. I always had a supply of Osem Chicken Soup Mix
This product is not only kosher but it is actually vegetarian, allowing me to make chicken soup & kneidlach (Matzo Ball Soup) for vegetarian and carnivore friends alike.
With thanks to Dall-E for collaborating with me on this image
My other piece de resistance for the halal & veggie crowd was potato latkes:
Again Dall-E produced this image based on my instructions.
If or when I can find my mother’s yellowed, hand-written pages of instructions for these delights I’ll publish the recipes. Hers were variations on the traditional Florence Greenberg & Evelyn Rose recipes.
Cheap, cheerful and heart-warming food.
Saturday 19 March 1983 – Liza came over in morning. Went to meet Julie -> Mike & Mandy’s -> dinner -> cam home quite early.
Sunday 20 March – Rose quite late – went down to lakes & back to Sneyd. Visited Ashley later.
I’m so glad that Ashley gets a mention that fortnight – albeit right at the end. Ashley has been known to complain if there aren’t enough pieces about him.
Thanks to Susan Gorman for this photo of Alan Gorman
A week after my discharge from the Health Centre, my post-glandular-fever student life reads, in my diary, a little like my pre-glandular-fever student life, with just one or two clues hinting at the differences.
Project
Several mentions of “project”, which can only be the statistical/econometric assignment that we were set as part of our economics course that year. Peter Lawrence would have supervised it and I’m sure he remembers all the intricate detail.
Actually, I remember my chosen assignment quite well. I looked at national statistics, examining the correlation between factors such as GDP and per capita GDP and numbers of radios and television sets per capita. The main conceit of the assignment was to consider whether I was finding true correlation or spurious correlation, primarily using the Durbin-Watson statistic which, as it happened, was available on the University Mainframe computer.
The analytical part of this project was fairly straightforward as I recall it. The grunt work involved setting out the data in a highly-specific format to enable the computer to pronounce on its Durbin-Watson statistic. What are, today, “work of a moment” tasks took hours of painstaking (and sometimes trial and error) data preparation and data processing work.
I have asked Dall-E to help me envisage what that 1980s University mainframe computer might have looked like:
Dall-E reminisces about 1980s computing
For those readers dying to know whether there is (or rather, was) true correlation between GDP and numbers of radios and TVs, the answer is, basically, yes; especially when using GDP per capita data and especially in the matter of radios. In the developing world, at that time, televisions were sparse enough that I suspected the numbers were more to do with government policy on whether to have a state broadcaster and the like. Also there did tend to be some interesting outliers in the data – for some reason there were an enormous number of radios sold in Gabon in the late 1970s and early 1980s, relative to the GDP per capita.
I think Peter liked my little study, because, while “answering the exam question” pretty well, it also raised far more questions than it answered.
I have but one memory specific to this occasion, which I recall Annalisa de Mercur referring to many times subsequently, because she thought it so funny and typically Plesch.
One student asked if our hosts would mind if they smoked. (It was certainly not me by then, as I had quit smoking on the back of my glandular fever. I don’t think it was Annalisa either).
Oh yes, of course, please make yourself at home…
…said Traudi, ever the hostess, who then spent at least five minutes bustling around the room opening windows (this was February, at Keele!), moving away precious-looking porcelain ashtrays, replacing them with utilitarian-looking ones. In short, despite her instinctive desire to make the smoker(s) feel at home, Traudi’s actions made it quite apparent that smoking was not exactly what she wanted in her living room.
They were in truth charming and generous hosts, the Plesch couple. The above-linked November 1981 article says plenty more that doesn’t need repeating here.
“Bloody Party In The Union – Left Early” Friday 4 March 1983
Not like me to be snippy about a party, but I guess I was not myself still at that time.
Dr Scott had told me to stay away from alcohol for six months following my glandular fever. He subsequently reduced my sentence to three months, for good behaviour.
The mention of the “bloody party” comes after a note about a rushed day and an election appeals meeting, both of which might have set my teeth on edge ahead of that particular bloody party.
I have no idea whose party it was, nor why I found it bloody. I apologise to the host of the party if someone reading this happens to be such a person. I don’t think it was about you/.the party, it was me.
In truth, at that time, quite possibly I found all parties a bit of a drag. Seemingly everyone else having a good time and getting noisily paralytic, while I nursed some ridiculously expensive yet ghastly-tasting soft-drink, which had no doubt been dispensed through a soda gun like the one below…
…those carbonated soft drinks never tasted like “the real thing”, if you get my meaning, even if they were sold as such. In the SU Main Bar at that time, indeed, they all tasted like a bit of an amalgamation of each other, which is probably what they were.
When not in bars or at parties, I had standardised at home on Sainsbury’s Tropical Fruit Drink (still available 40 years later)…
I wondered out loud with Dr Scott on one occasion whether it was OK to be drinking all this sweet stuff. He said he thought I was close to dangerously underweight at the end of my glandular fever experience; thus he was keen for me to put on some weight. I persevered with Supercans of Coke throughout the rest of my Keele years, even after I had reverted to drinking alcohol.
How the Great Yorkshire Pudding Got His Name, Early March 1983
The Great Yorkshire Pudding
There is no mention of the events that led to Alan Gorman acquiring the nickname “The Great Yorkshire Pudding”. At the time, I probably found the matter that led to it too painful to write down. Even now, I’m finding it hard to compose my thoughts about it and reflect on the matter fairly and faithfully. It doesn’t help that Alan Gorman sadly died in 2015, so cannot add his own thoughts on this matter forty years after the event.
The bare facts are these. Chantelle announced that she wanted to move out of the flat, Barnes L54, and that we should seek a replacement fourth person. Alan and I had already agreed that we would continue to flat share the following year. Hamzah, who was about to do his finals and had planned to go home as soon as they were done made it clear that it was entirely up to me and Alan to choose Chantelle’s replacement.
Ashley Fletcher was spending a lot of time at the flat in those days. He was Union Treasurer but living off campus, so it was a convenient place to hang out. He was good friends with my girlfriend, Liza (indeed Liza and I had more or less met through Ashley and his gang) and seemed to get on very well with Alan too.
Ashley wanted to move in to the flat. I wanted Ashley to move into the flat. I put the idea one evening to Alan.
Ashley back then
Alan basically said no. He was uncomfortable with the idea of having a gay flatmate. At one point he said that he wouldn’t be able to explain it to his friends back home. When I said that I thought that was not a good reason, he agreed that he had given a very poor reason, but still, without really being able to articulate why he felt uncomfortable, that he was resolute on the matter.
I remember feeling that I didn’t have the strength to argue and also at the same time realising that debating the matter for longer would in any case have been futile. I remember going to bed that night very upset and I also so clearly remember dreading telling Ashley the news.
Strangely, Ashley didn’t take the news as hard as I thought he would…nor as hard as I took it. In my naivety, perhaps, I had assumed that the idea would fly and hadn’t expected that outcome. Ashley had strongly suspected and at least half-expected that response.
When I told Ashley what Alan had said, Ashley just paused for thought momentarily and said:
The Great Yorkshire Pudding!
Those readers who don’t know anything about Alan Gorman might look at the picture I have used in this piece – Alan was even skinnier in 1983 than he was when that picture was taken a few year’s later. He was also from Brinscall, near Chorley, which is, unequivocally, in Lancashire, not Yorkshire.
The nickname, The Great Yorkshire Pudding, stuck, at least for the remainder of that academic year and the next one. Alan accepted with good grace that the expletive nickname had come from Ashley’s heart and that he sort-of deserved it. Alan would respond with a nickname of his own for me, “Bagel Boy”, which could get him into a spot of trouble today, not only with the authorities (had someone chosen to complain) but with Alan’s own wife and children!
Alright already, I like bagels…who doesn’t?
The epilogue to this story is, I suppose, not so bad. I remained friends with Alan and Ashley. Chris Spencer moved into Barnes L54 with us instead and proved to be a very suitable flatmate, staying on in the flat for the rest of my time there and I think until he graduated.
When Ashley dropped out of Keele the following year, I wondered whether that would have happened had he moved into our flat. Ashley of course is still around to debate that point and/but Ashley might argue that leaving Keele at that juncture was the right thing for him to do in any case. He has certainly gone on to do many worthwhile things, not least his laudable and often charitable work as a therapist.
But at the time, the story of How The Great Yorkshire Pudding Got His Name affected me deeply. I wish the older and wiser version of me could discuss it now with the older and wiser Alan. Perhaps over a smoked salmon bagel or two…and a glass or two of fine Californian white wine.
The diary suggests that I was feeling really low and still poorly during those first few days out of the Health Centre. The short-term improvement of mood arising from my release soon morphed into realisation that there was a longish haul to recovery of my normal energy levels and high spirits.
The interesting day that week was the Wednesday, when I found myself at the occupation of the University Registry by day and at a Eurythmics concert in the Union by night.
That mandate was more than somewhat against the will of the Union Committee, under Truda Smith, who wanted to do something else (or possibly nothing at all) about the grant cuts.
I don’t think we mandated the Registry as the building to be occupied and I certainly was not involved in the planning of the event. I was persona non grata with Truda and her hench-folk by that time and in any case I was sick with glandular fever when the event bubbled to a head.
Dr David Cohen, a larger than life character recognisable for sporting large bow ties, had, only the previous term, switched from being the Senior Tutor (latterly referred to as Director of Studies) to being Registrar.
I don’t suppose he was overjoyed at having the Registry occupied so early in his tenure. It was nothing personal – the Registry seemed to be the obvious place to occupy for such matters – partly because it was the centre of University bureaucracy and partly because it was centrally located on the campus and easy to occupy given its strange mix of formal construction and strung-together prefabricated Nissen hut-like structures.
I recall David being very suspicious of me when I became a Union sabbatical – I suspect he thought I was rabidly radical. But we found ways of working together quite quickly; he was open-minded enough to change his mind about people if the evidence was there for such a change. I was sorry to learn that he died in 2022, just shy of 40 years after the “historic” occupation of his office..
Frankly, 48 hours after my release form the Health Centre I wasn’t really up for it. I felt that I should show my face but probably looked like the ghost of occupations past; I had lost lots of weight (from a fairly skinny start) with my illness and I suspect that my skin colour was more yellow/green than ruddy/pink.
All I really remember was hating how I felt in that cramped, poorly ventilated space and sensing that pretty much everyone realised that I shouldn’t really be there, so I didn’t stay all that long.
I collaborated with Dall-E to produce the following artists’ impression of the event.
Not bad, Dall-E, but this lot look a bit better dressed than 1980s Keele students
The Eurythmics concert in the Union was a big deal for my girlfriend, Liza O’Connor. She was into synthesizer-based music and Eurythmics was one of the groups that everyone in the art school world was talking about.
Indeed, the SU had timed their booking of Eurythmics to perfection. Their first hit, Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This, had come out a few weeks earlier and was climbing the pop charts at a rapid rate. Liza was really excited about the prospect of this gig and we deemed it to be our postponed Valentine’s Night.
However, the sweet success of Sweet Dreams also brought with it some logistical issues. If I remember correctly, Eurythmics had been called at the last minute to record a video or performance of the song or something, on the very day of our gig. The result was a very late concert indeed. I think the warm up act did their thing and then went home and we the audience were kept waiting a long time for Eurythmics.
I seem to recall Liza really liking the gig, but I was half-dead on my feet by the time Eurythmics showed up. I think it was quite a short set, book-ended by Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This. I remember being grateful for the brevity and not really enjoying the show, which is a shame.
Latterly I saw a lot of Annie Lennox; she was a regular at my health club in the 1990s and early 2000s and thus we became nodding acquaintances, even “hi and bye” folk in the neighbourhood.
I wish I’d seen her perform on a more suitable night.
I should imagine I slept well after that tiring day but I doubt if I had sweet dreams while in that glum mood. I don’t suppose I was good company for Liza when I was that gloomy and poorly, which might explain why she left me alone until the Sunday. On that day, the diary says that she came over for the evening and that we went to see Ashley [Fletcher] after.
I’m glad Ashley gets a mention in the diary that week. I have recently (forty years on) corresponded with him, not least about aspects of this period. Ashley complained that there aren’t enough pieces about him. Actually, for aficionados of Ashley Fletcher stories, e.g. Ashley, that will be rectified in the next episode.
