Tag: Bobbie Scully

Keele (Including A Free January 1985 SU Disco Playlist), Knightsbridge, Kings College Hospital & Multiple Wine Prizes, Mid January 1985

I believe this scribbled note is the playlist from the Real Ale Bar Opening Disco

In the last episode, I described the re-opening of the Ballroom Bar as a Real Ale bar, with John White and I DJ-ing the disco in a less than sober fashion.

Why Oh FY? – My Most Highly Praised Piece Of Statistical Work Ever, Plus Other Keele Happenings Such As Opening The Real Ale Bar, Early In The Spring Term, 1985

I am now pretty sure that the hand-scrawled disco playlist I discovered amongst my papers some years ago, see headline picture, must be the playlist from that gig. It looks like a playlist conceived by committee – it certainly doesn’t remind me of the type of playlist that John and I would (often quite hastily) construct earlier in the evening to give the disco the vibe and shape we wanted. Our personal choice tended to focus more on Motown, Northern Soul and general sixties dance music.

I vaguely remember the discussion with several members of the committee. Pady Jalali insisting that we play the Band Aid song at some point – John and I reluctantly agreeing to open with that song as a clarion call to let people know that the show was starting, as it would empty the dance floor anywhere else in the set. I’m pretty sure Kate Fricker chose the Madonna song and it had to be Pete Wild and/or Hayward Burt who insisted on some ZZ Top.

John and I unquestionably insisted on Police Officer by Smiley Culture, which was high on our list of personal favourites at that time:

Actually, you can hear the entire playlist, which I curated into a 40th anniversary playlist on my YouTube Music account – click here for that playlist – don’t be put off if the link is struck through – anyone can click and listen – you’ll get adverts if you don’t have a YouTube Music account, that’s all. I’ll be surprised f you haven’t had a little bit of a private dance (or in my case at the time of writing, hobble) by the time you hear Neutron Dance by the Pointer Sisters, if not before.

Let’s move on.

A Quick Trip To London, Including A Chance Encounter With Neil & Trish Hyman In Knightsbridge And A Planned Encounter With My Mum In Kings College Hospital

Not Keele: Knightsbridge, London, SW1 by Christine Matthews, CC BY-SA 2.0

Here’s my diary extract from that weekend.

AI systems are now smart enough to read the charred remains of the Herculaneum scrolls…but still have no chance with my handwriting. I’ll have to do this transliteration myself:

Friday, 18 January 1985 – Very busy in office with busts etc. Went to London quite early. Stayed in etc etc

Saturday, 19 January 1985 – Rose lunchtime – drank and had haircut. Went to Chicago Rib [Shack, in Knightsbridge] in evening – Met Neil Hyman and Trish [Hyman] etc – weird. Stopped over.

Sunday, 20 January 1985 – Went home in the morning – lunch at Levinsons [friends in our street]. Went to see mum – then back to Keele. Went to see Petra [Wilson] briefly.

I’ll explain, in a later article, a bit more about my role as Education & Welfare officer helping students who had been busted. No idea why I saw so many on that Friday – I don’t think it was anything to do with our disco a couple of nights before.

I assume I stayed at Bobbie’s place in East Finchley. “Rose lunchtime, drank, had haircut” does not sound like me any more (he says, while writing between 6:00 & 7:00 am), but it does sound like the 22 year old me.

It will have seemed and still seems a strange coincidence to encounter Neil Hyman & his sister Trish, friends from my BBYO days, in the Chicago Rib Shack in Knightsbridge. Firstly, because Neil and Trish were from the Lytham St Annes group, which is some way removed from Knightsbridge . Differently posh, I suppose.

Secondly, the Chicago Rib Shack is not the first place you might think of to encounter, by chance, friends from a Jewish Youth Organisation. Perhaps we were all trying out some seminal vegan options in the place.

In some ways more coincidentally, on the back of a subsequent conversation, I discovered that Bobbie’s mum was Greta Spector’s sister. Her sons, Martin Spector and the late, great Jeffrey Spector were mainstays of BBYO in St Annes and indeed nationally. Neil and I served together on Jeffrey’s National Executive for a while in 1979.

Jeff Spector, Spring 1979

On the Sunday I went over to Streatham for lunch with my dad at Norman & Marjorie Levinson’s house. Presumably they were taking pity on dad and feeding him while my mum was in hospital. Very kind people they were – to me as a child and great friends to my parents for the rest of their lives.

Norman up front, my dad to the right

Mum was in hospital having her second hip replaced in Kings College Hospital. She had the first one replaced there in February 1975 and then needed the second one done 10 years later. Don’t know what it is about the start of years with a five in them, but I need to have one of my hips replaced and shall do so in a couple of week’s time (as I write in January 2025).

Back To Keele, Where Wednesday’s Wine Win & Waffles Needs Explaining

What do you mean, you can’t read or understand that? Oh, all right then:

Monday 21 January 1985 – Union Committee in morning – very busy rest of day. Const [itutional Committee] in evening – drink after. Petra came over later.

Tuesday 22 January 1985 – Busy day today – meetings etc. Cheap drink in evening. Petra came over later.

Wednesday, 23 January 1985 -Lots to do and meetings etc. Won wine today. Stayed in in eve – went for Waffles at Ben’s [Benita Wishart] later.

Thursday, 24 January 1985 – Busy and productive day. Lots of meetings in early evening. Petra came over later.

“Cheap drink” presumably means one of those promotion evenings in the Union, when one of the suppliers would try to encourage students towards their brand with infeasibly cheap offerings. I remember being put off Pernod for life with one of those earlier in my time at Keele. Sadly, with my diary being unspecific about the brand involved on 22 January 1985, unless a reader chimes in with a detailed memory, we’ll never know which particular tipple was cheap that night.

Clearly I didn’t over-indulge as my diary for the next day reads very industrious and perky. And who wouldn’t be perky when they had “won wine”. A whole case of Henri Maire wine at that.

Photo by Marianne Casamance, CC BY-SA 4.0

Here’s the story of how I won it.

While I was with my parents for Christmas, my dad showed me some vouchers and forms he had collected for an Henri Maire wine prize competition. He had bought enough of the wine for two entries. You had to answer a few quite simple questions about Henri Maire wine and then provide a slogan. Top prize, a case of Henri Maire wine. Several other prizes were also on offer. Dad had no clue on the slogans and asked me to help.

My entry – i.e. the one in my name, which ended up winning the case of wine that was sent to me at Keele, was:

Whatever the fare, drink Henri Maire.

Simple and to the point, I thought it might pick up a consolation prize. Dad preferred my other, more baroque idea for a slogan:

Tous les “Hooray Henris” boivent Henri Maire

The arrival of the winning case of “more than half decent” wine caused quite a stir in the Students’ Union that morning. Not exactly an every day event at Keele, that.

I remember excitedly calling my dad to let him know then news. He excitedly told me that my other slogan had also won a prize.

Screw you, Henri Maire. (That wasn’t the slogan). That prize, forty years on.

Dad was absolutely insistent that I keep the corkscrew. I still have it, although, as you can see, it has seen better days. I did keep back a couple of bottles of the prize-winning wine for dad, which I took down on my next visit to my folks.

For some strange reason I became tremendously popular at Keele, for a short while, after that case of wine arrived.

I don’t really understand the diary reference that says that I stayed in that evening but then went over to Benita’s place for waffles. It can only mean, I think, that my intention had been to stay in and that I had sunk into an evening off mode, before Petra (who was very friendly with Benita at that time) persuaded me to join the waffle party…

…possibly with one of those bottles of wine in hand.

Lovely lass, Benita. I think I have tracked her down on the net so we’ll see if she has anything to add to the memory of waffles or even other matters in this series of articles forty years on.

A Weekend In London, Including The Pope’s Wedding by Edward Bond, Royal Court Theatre, Dinner At The Mayflower After Theatre & Lunch At The Swiss Centre The Next Day, 7 to 9 December 1984

Image from The Royal Court Theatre Living Archive on a fair usage basis.

A moment in my personal history on that visit to London; my first visit to The Royal Court Theatre.

I was blown away by this production – Bobbie and I returned in the new year to see Saved as well, which was being performed in rep along with The Pope’s Wedding. After that, I returned to The Royal Court many, many times. Most recently at the time of writing (forty years on), strangely, as a facilitator for the Royal Court rather than as an audience member. A strange but true story:

I, A Facilitator: Beyond The Library, The Mulberry Bush by Angus Wilson c/w Giant by Mark Rosenblatt, Royal Court Theatre, 29 October 2024

But returning to The Pope’s Wedding, I am sure I have Bobbie to thank for seeking out the opportunity to see that production. She was doing her Bar pupillage in London by then and had no doubt spotted a review and/or an advert for the production. I think we got in on some sort of special deal, which possibly involved queueing up for “on the day” tickets. What I do recall is that we saw both The Pope’s Wedding and Saved from the best seats in the house for very modest ticket prices.

The Royal Court has benefitted from this “drug pusher style sales technique” for many decades since; I got addicted to watching theatre from the best seats not any old seats. In fact, many other theatres have benefitted from The Royal Court’s foresight at snaring potential theatre addicts young.

I quite often say “what a cast” in my theatre visit write ups, but on this occasion I think that phrase deserves a shout: WHAT A CAST!

Tony Rohr, Adrian Dunbar, Mark Wingett, Peter Lovstrom, Joanne Whalley (prior to her becoming Joanne Whalley Kilmer), Gerard Horan, Lesley Manville, Peter-Hugo Daly and Gary Oldman – directed by Max Stafford Clark. Here is a link to the Theatricalia entry for this production.

Have I mentioned that I was blown away by this production? (Yes you have, let the reader see what some real experts say – ed).

John Barber in The Telegraph was very keen on it:

Pope's Barber TelegraphPope’s Barber Telegraph 29 Nov 1984, Thu The Daily Telegraph (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Michael Billington also rated it highly:

Pope Billington GuardianPope Billington Guardian 29 Nov 1984, Thu The Guardian (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Pope Shulman StandardPope Shulman Standard 28 Nov 1984, Wed Evening Standard (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

While rummaging, I loved this preview piece from The Standard, not least the fruity headline:

Other Bond GirlsOther Bond Girls 23 Nov 1984, Fri Evening Standard (London, Greater London, England) Newspapers.com

Returning to that weekend, the diary reminds me that we went to The Mayflower (Chinese restaurant on Shaftesbury Avenue) after the theatre – one of those places that we knew would still be open at that hour. I’m guessing that we had fancied trying The Swiss Centre but were too late for that, hence we returned the next day to take lunch there.

One habit that I think we started that Pope’s Wedding & Mayflower evening, which we/I continued for several years after, was to pick up the Sunday papers on Saturday night and start reading them on the Night Bus home if in town at that late hour on a Saturday.

I remember back then thinking that this weekend was the height of sophistication which, for the 22 year old me, it probably was, at that time.

That production of The Pope’s Wedding…wow!

From The Rumour Mill Around Keele To Blooming Madness In London, Via The Final Word On Keele Student Appeals, Late September 1984

I think Rumours was a Chinese restaurant in Newcastle [corrected – see postscript below]. This picture of me eating Chinese food is from Guilin in 1993.

The end of September and beginning of October at Keele was the lull before the approaching storm of the new academic year. Apart from some fallout from the resits and resulting appeals processes, we were getting ready for the sabbatical year proper with a lot of training and induction activity.

Sunday, 23 September 1984 Got up quite early – mooched around flat – mooched around union – went over to Kate [Fricker] evening.

Monday, 24 September 1984 – not so busy today. Slouched a bit – felt tired too – went to bed early.

Tuesday, 25 September 1984 – Busy day with training course etc. Appeals results came out late afternoon – worked late then went to Rumours with group [probably Kate Fricker, John White, Pady Jalali, Andy Crawford, Ali Dabbs and any other committee folk who were around]– back to Union and mine.

Wednesday, 26 September 1984 – busyish with training and appeals results. Cooked meal for Kate, John & Ali, and took an early night.

Thursday, 27th September 1984 – Busyish day, callers, meetings etc. Went on trip with Allied Breweries and drunk quite a bit.

Friday, 28 September 1984 – Extremely busy with belated appeals etc – got to London late – too tired to do anything.

Saturday, 29 September 1984 – Got up late – went to Brent Cross. In evening went to Rasa Sayang for nice meal.

Sunday, 30 September 1984 – Got up late. Went to Blooms for late lunch – then went drinking in Highgate.

The End Of Appeals

Mopping up after the appeals results came out was quite a busy period, but nowhere near as busy as the time between resit results coming in and lodging the appeals. We had been quite successful with appeals that year. Without going into too much detail, a serious botch up by the French department with one blameless student opened the door to pretty much any appeal by a student who had flunked that particular subject. To some extent that was gaming the system but Eddie Slade, the Senior Tutor, gave me encouragement to assist those modern language students in so gaming. Oliver Goulden, who headed that department at that time, never forgave me for “humiliating him”. I remember politely pointing out to Oliver, when he said that to me, that he had humiliated himself with the initiating botch.

A Trip To London – North Of The River This Time

I don’t think I visited my parents at all on that London visit – I think I just visited Bobbie, who had just started sharing a flat at the top of the Archway Road with several other recent law graduates who were about to start their law/bar exams and (in her case) pupillage.

Brent Cross was not my sort of place, but I think Bobbie needed to buy some stuff for her new digs. She had been kind enough to help me with my move from Barnes to Horwood when visiting Keele; it was the least I could do to traipse around Brent Blooming Cross with her (oh how I hate shopping) before an evening treat at the Rasa Sayang, a Malaysian Restaurant in Soho, which was one of my favourite haunts at that time.

Photo of Bloom’s Golders Green by Kake Pugh via Flickr, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

I remember the visit Bobbie and I made to Bloom’s in Golders Green very well. Bobbie was keen to try the place as she had never been to an authentic Jewish restaurant. I gently cautioned against the idea but was persuaded that this was something that Bobbie wanted to do.

The rudeness of Bloom’s waiters was the subject of legend. Aficionados of rude waiter places in London might like to conjure up a Jewish version of Wong Kei (Chinese) or Khan’s (Indian) with the worst excesses of those places coming to the fore.

It is a minor miracle that Bloom’s survived another quarter of a century until closing in 2010. When it did close, a posse of celebrities wrote obituary vignettes about it for the Jewish Chronicle. (If anything ever becomes of that link, click here for the fine laugh out loud words).

But actually I think Bobbie’s and my experience is up there with any of the celebrity “endorsements” of the rudeness.

I had treated Bobbie to the Rasa Sayang the night before and she was to treat me to Bloom’s the next day. That’s how we rolled in those days.

Problem was, the waiter’s “sales technique” with a couple was to try to push the most expensive and/or extra dishes at the female, on the expectation that the male, keen to impress his date, would say yes to everything as soon as the female showed the slightest interest in the item being pushed. This technique was not going to work very well in our circumstances, not least because I knew all about the dishes that were being pushed and Bobbie was looking for my guidance.

Allow me to script one of several such attempts by the waiter.

WAITER (fawning, to Bobbie): I think maybe you would like to try the kishka, madam?

BOBBIE (to me): what’s kishka?

ME (yawning, to Bobbie): stuffed intestine – I don’t think you’ll like it. The helzel (stuffed chicken’s neck) is probably enough stuffed body parts for one meal.

WAITER (thinks): this guy is a pain in the kishkas. What’s the matter with him?

On the meal went, with the waiter fawning over Bobbie, while Bobbie gently but clearly signalled that she was the paying customer and I was the guest, even though I knew what we were ordering and she didn’t.

Eventually Bobbie called for the bill. The waiter brought the bill and went to hand the bill to me.

BOBBIE: No, no, please hand the bill to me.

The waiter looked at me strangely. Then he looked at Bobbie even more strangely. Eventually he handed the bill to Bobbie.

Bobbie settled the bill with notes. The waiter returned with the change, pointedly placing the saucer of change in front of me, not Bobbie.

Bobbie equally pointedly grabbed the saucer, asked the waiter to wait, retrieved some but not all of the change for herself and handed him back the saucer with his tip.

Meshuggas…

…said the waiter, which means “madness” in Yiddish.

Bloom’s.

Postscript: Jonathan Knight points out that Rumours was in fact a burger restaurant; the Chinese one was Peaches – still going in 2024.

Still, the 1993 tale of the Guilin snake, from which that picture is taken, is well worth a read although it is entirely unconnected with tales of Keele in 1984:

China Trip – From Xian Ladders To Guilin Snakes, 25 November 1993

Keele Education & Welfare Officer In Training: University Of York (Education), University Of Reading (Welfare), University of Keele (Resit Result Appeals) & University Of Life (Beer Tasting), First Half September 1984

University of York, Goodricke College by David Dixon, CC BY-SA 2.0

Training Week: York & Reading

The National Union Of Students (NUS) provided training courses for sabbatical officers in September. I think all four of us (Kate Fricker, John White, Pady Jalali and me) went on at least one or two. Here are my diary entries about my week:

Monday, 3 September 1984 up early – Bobbie [Scully] dropped me at Stoke. Met Kathy [from the North Staffs Poly Students’ Union if I recall correctly] and went to [University of] York for Education and Representations (E&R) Module.

Tuesday, 4 September 1984 – E&R module in York (okay). Got back to Stoke, went to Kathy’s for a while. Came back to Keele.

Wednesday, 5 September 1984 – Got up really early to go to [University of] Reading for Welfare Module.

Thursday, 6 September 1984 – Welfare Module in Reading (v good indeed). Got back to Keele late and very tired.

Friday, 7 September 1984 – Tired today – cleared some of the backlog of work – ate in McDonald’s in evening.

Saturday, 8 September 1984 – Went shopping in morning – did some work in afternoon – went to Wolstanton to meet Vera [sic – Veera Bachra] in evening.

Sunday, 9 September 1984 – Rose late. Went in to office to clear work in afternoon – went over to Kate [Fricker]’s for meal in evening.

I thought better of the welfare course than I did of the education and representations one. I think I felt I had previously acquired most of the negotiation skills and possessed the requisite common sense that the first course was trying to impart. Whereas the welfare one steeped me in some techniques and protocols that hadn’t occurred to me before and stick with me to this day, not least the notion that volunteers and sabbaticals should signpost and refer, but not attempt to advise and/or counsel.

I remember Phil Woolas being quite heavily involved in at least one of, if not both of, the courses. He was NUS President at the time and went on to a ministerial career in the Labour Governments of Tony Blair and Gordon Brown.

I had forgotten that Veera Bachra had remained in The Potteries even until then and that we kept in touch into my sabbatical year. She had been my neighbour in Barnes L Block for a couple of years and became a good pal, as described in several Ogblog pieces (this link all those tagged Veera). I do wonder what happened to her subsequently.

Eating with Kate Fricker, more often at my place than at hers but on this occasion at hers, was a fairly regular occurrence throughout our sabbatical year.

Aftermath Of Resits Week

Reinforcements: Annalisa de Mercur, picture thanks to Mark Ellicott

I had been primed to be ready for a constant stream of people through my office, primarily those who had failed their resits and wanted help with appeals and/or pastoral care. It’s just as well I’d been primed.

Thus spake my diary:

Monday, 10 September 1984 – Busy day getting ready for the onslaught etc – Kate came over for a meal in the evening.

Tuesday, 11 September 1984 – resit results came out today – extremely chaotic and exhausting day. Worked till quite late.

Wednesday, 12 September 1984 – Appeals business all day. – Annalisa arrived as reinforcements. – came over for a drink in evening.

Thursday, 13 September 1984 -very busy day with appeals etc. Worked till quite late. Annalisa came over for dinner in evening.

Friday, 14 September 1984 very busy with appeals today – Bobbie arrived early in the evening. Went to Pinocchio’s for dinner and came back.

Saturday, 15 September 1984 Bobby left early. I got up quite late – went shopping with Kate – worked in afternoon – Annalisa and I went over to Kate’s for dinner in evening.

Sunday, 16 September 1984 – Got up fairly late – came into office for afternoon etc. Had Kate and Annalisa for dinner in evening.

Would you believe that Pinocchio’s is still an Italian Restaurant, albeit rebranded Pasta Di Piazza with decent enough reviews still. For sure it was one of the better places in Newcastle0-Under-Lyme in 1984.

Annalisa was on my Education Sub-Committee and very dedicated to the task she was too. Coming up to Keele, to help with appeals week, was over and above the call of duty, as were many of Annalisa’s sterling efforts that year.

Progressing From Appeals To Beer-Tasting

Ale be seeing you in all the old familiar places…

The appeals process continued into the early part of the following week, after which attention switched to the vexed question of beer.

In particular, under our new bar regime, we were very keen to offer real ales on a regular basis and had settled on the ballroom bar as a suitable location (actually the only suitable bar) for the storage and serving of such beers.

Other Ogblog postings, previous and to come, attest that we committee folk were quite traumatised by the process of dismissing the bar managers and the subsequent appeals processes. But I confess that we did enjoy the several field trips and organised tastings by the breweries that were courting us for business in that latter part of the summer. The diary leaves me in no doubt:

Monday, 17 September 1984 – Very busy day indeed with these appeals. Worked till very late.

Tuesday, 18 September 1984 extremely hectic last day of appeals, etc, – cooked. Came down to union and got pissed at John Smith’s expense.

Wednesday, 19 September 1984 -Very tired today – took it fairly easy. Got pissed at Allied Breweries expense tonight.

Thursday, 20 September 1984 – Tired and not very industrious today. Went to union in the evening and had to buy own drinks – didn’t stay long.

Friday, 21 September 1984 -Still a bit shattered. Went over to Kate’s for meal in the evening.

Levity By The Lake

Rodgers & Hammerstein, For One Half Only, With Bobbie Scully, Theatre Royal Hanley, 2 September 1984

Richard and Oscar, unaware of how their work might be abused 40 years later

Sunday 2 September 1984 – a memorable evening at the theatre for all the wrong reasons. And let me be honest about this; it was my own darned fault.

Got up late -did nothing much all day – then went to dreadful show in Hanley. Walked out & had an Indian meal.

This debacle of an evening was at the Theatre Royal Hanley.

It happened like this.

The Theatre Royal Hanley wanted to encourage Keele University students to attend their theatre. They offered me a pair of free tickets to see any show I fancied over the summer. I was a new Student Union sabbatical and it was a new (or I should say revived) venue. I suppose they thought people like me might have some influence over the “yoof” audience.

I spotted what looked like quite an interesting play – with Tom Conti in it if I’m not mistaken, which I thought Bobbie and I would both enjoy when she was up for a long weekend at the end of August/start of September.

Problem was, I chose the Sunday evening (probably because we were otherwise engaged on both the Friday and Saturday evenings) and failed to check whether the Sunday evening show was the same show as the Monday to Saturday show.

It wasn’t.

You cannot blame the box office – they had been instructed to issue me with comps for whatever evening I chose…and I chose the Sunday evening.

The Life And Music Of Rodgers And Hammerstein. I am 95% sure that the show we saw was Hella Toros and her ensemble. A grande dame by 1984, widow of John McLaren, who had been in the original cast productions of Rodgers and Hammerstein shows in the 1950s…

…here’s how she looked and sounded in 1940, before sadness and illness struck her life for some while:

Correction: it wasn’t Helen Toros’s ensemble, it was the Newcastle Amateur Operatic Chorus. The following clipping from the Evening Sentinel confirms why/how I got the “They’re Playing Our Song” offer (Peta Toppano and Barry Quinn, not Tom Conti) confused with Rodgers and Hammerstein, plus confirms exactly who performed:

Rodgers & Hammerstein Evening SentinelRodgers & Hammerstein Evening Sentinel 01 Sep 1984, Sat Evening Sentinel (Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire, England) Newspapers.com

The Evening Sentinel doesn’t seem to have reviewed the show, but I found the following clip in the Lichfield Mercury – click here and see “Life Story In Song” article – which describes Toros’s half-a-dozen shows of similar type.

It was the most stilted show imaginable. Imagine a heavy European accent dramatically stating

Rodgers and Hammerstein, the most wonderful musicals in the whole world…

…I bet she said that about all the composers of such works in all of her shows…

…Ivor Novello – the most wonderful writer of musical shows in history…Sigmund Romberg, the most exquisite operettas ever written…

Between numbers, Hella gave us bits of her life story tentatively connected to Rodgers and Hammerstein. Her late husband’s involvement in the original stage productions of the musicals was bigged up to the extent that one might have imagined that John and Hella were round Oscar and Richard’s places all the time back in the 1950s.

In short, Bobbie and I had turned up at the theatre expecting to see “our sort of play” and found ourselves instead watching a static recital of songs from musicals, delivered in an exceptionally old-fashioned style.

The audience was almost as stilted as the performances. Not that everyone in the audience was about three times our age. Dear me no. Some of them were at least four times our age.

Bobbie and I didn’t know where to look. Actually we did…not at each other, lest the giggles get the better of us.

To be fair, we mostly won the struggle to keep straight faces for most of the first half of the recital…

…until the rather elderly and minimally mobile grande dame of the show, Hella Toros, attempted to sing Happy Talk with appropriate movements…lifted from the movie…

…our struggle with retaining our composure was lost. For good.

We felt we owed it to the audience, who were, after all, our elders and betters, to withdraw during the interval, ahead of the second half of the show, rather than inflict the inevitable giggly disturbances on the audience throughout the second half.

The exact nature of the Hanley-based Indian meal we devoured in place of the second half of the show is lost in the mists of time. It was probably quite good food and reasonably priced – there were some decent Indian restaurants in the Potteries by then.

This show was almost certainly not the only blot on the Theatre Royal Hanley’s choice of billing at that time. This link provides an excellent summary of the Theatre Royal Hanley’s less than special recent history. If anything ever happens to that history blog – and goodness knows the history it is recording is chequered enough – click here for a scrape thereof.

Is it possible that, but for my choice of night/wrong show error, I might have been able to influence the student body to frequent the Theatre Royal Hanley and helped turn around the disaster-prone institution? Unlikely.

On reflection, Bobbie & I probably shouldn’t go to any theatre with “Theatre Royal” in its name…I recall a peculiarly incident-rich visit to the Theatre Royal Haymarket with Bobbie to see Long Day’s Journey Into the Night. There’ll be a link here once I have written that one up.

Misery, Hong Kong Garden Restaurant And The Move From Barnes To Horwood, 30 August to 1 September 1984

Ouch!

I found a lot of my sabbatical year hard work. Occasionally I found the work emotionally challenging too.

Still, I doubt if I’ll find a more unequivocally miserabilist entry in any of my diaries, across the many years I kept such notes, than 30 August 1984:

Thursday, 30 August 1984 – horrendously busy day – including suicide, Frank [Dillon]’s burglary and loads of misery. Went to McDonald’s and pub in eve confused and wretched.

Suicide was an issue that constantly worried Keele staff and students alike. At one time Keele had a reputation for having a high suicide rate amongst students, despite also having a reputation for having very high satisfaction ratings. Existential Marmite?

Seriously, I recall being very upset when I learnt that Theo had committed suicide in the spring of that year, while I was completing my finals. I knew she was troubled; she and I had discussed the sorts of things she might get involved with in the Education & Welfare Office during my sabbatical year.

Whether I really would have been able to help her or not, we’ll never know. Things got too much for her that spring and she chose to end her life. Those close to Theo (in particular Ashley Fletcher and Simon Legg) chose not to tell me about her death until after my finals in the June, because they thought the news might upset me (it certainly did) and thus disturb what little equilibrium I had for finals cramming.

I don’t recall the details of the suicide I refer to in this diary entry. I don’t think it was anyone I really knew and I suspect it had happened away from the campus – possibly someone who had failed their resits or in some other way knew they were in trouble at Keele, but not someone who had presented themselves to me.

I also don’t remember any of the details of Frank Dillon’s burglary, except that he found it disturbing, as anyone who has experienced being the victim of burglary would attest.

Friday, 31 August 1984 – busyish day with resits and Frank’s business. Bobbie arrived in evening, moved, and then went to Hong Kong Garden for meal.

Saturday, 1 September 1984 – Went shopping late morning and dossed around, finished moving and cooked Bobbie a meal in the evening.

I say “moved” and “finished moving” in glib phrases, but this was a change of some moment for me. I had shared flats in Barnes for two-and-a-half years, very happily for the two years in Barnes L54 as discussed in several earlier pieces and as reprised in a letter to Concourse that June.

Good-Bye To Barnes L54 And All That, Summer 1984

I moved into my own flat, in Horwood K Block. It was a small “resident tutor’s flat” which was basically two study bedrooms and the end of a corridor repurposed as a two-room flat with a living room (one of the study bedrooms), a small bedroom & a small bathroom (the other study bedroom) and a galley kitchen (the repurposed end of the corridor).

It was small, but it worked and it was all mine. Actually, I say “all mine” but it proved remarkably popular as a doss house for people who for one reason or another, couldn’t get to their own places for the night – e.g. John White, who moved off campus for that year but quite often wanted to stay on. John became very well acquainted with the floor of my so-called living room.

Despite the many visitors, I acquired a taste for having “a couple of rooms of my own” on the back of this experience and have never quite shaken off the desire, at times, to retire to my own little place.

The Friday diary entry confirms my suspicion that Hong Kong Garden was my Chinese restaurant of choice at that time. Anyone else remember it?

Not THAT Hong Kong, not THAT garden…the above photo nine years later

Did I ever thank Bobbie properly for helping me with my move? I know it was only from one side of the main campus to the other, but I do recall that the extra muscle really helped. Bobbie might not be the tallest person around, but, certainly in those days, she was pretty strong and could lug boxes as well or better than most folk.

Still, misery and the drudgery of moving turned to laughter the next day, on the back of my unfortunate but memorable cock-up with tickets for the theatre in Hanley:

Rodgers & Hammerstein, For One Half Only, With Bobbie Scully, Theatre Royal Hanley, 2 September 1984

Choosing Beers & Amusements & Other Keele Students’ Union Efforts, Plus A Short Trip To Merseyside, Early-To-Mid August 1984

Photo by Clemensfranz GNU FDL 1.2 and CC 3.0

My sense is that the Students’ Union in August was traditionally a quiet place. However, our committee was shaking several trees, which meant a fair bit of work to do, perhaps beyond the norm.

Having dismissed the bar managers…

When The Keele Students’ Union Bars (aka Tommy And Ralph) Saga Came To A Head, Early August 1984

…we still needed to keep the bars open, albeit a limited service during August. We needed temporary bar management – enter stage left John “Beaky” White (not to be confused with John S White, the sabbatical secretary) and Pete Cumberland from the KRA (postgraduate bar). We also needed to get on with the process of finding new permanent bar managers before the new term.

In any case, I think there was a regular requirement for the new committee to renew or replace extant agreements with beer and amusements companies, which involved an element of due diligence, some of which was, I must admit, quite pleasurable. John White and I were prepared to take the sabbatical lead on those tasks.

Here’s what my diary had to say about that early August period:

Sunday, 5 August 1984 – Went down Sneyd/Joanne’s [Jo Gadian] for lunch – got wrecked and spent most of the day and evening giggling uncontrollably.

Monday, 6 August 1984 – Busy day – still loads of things to sort out etc. Came down bar in eve – met lots of reps etc.

Tuesday, 7 August 1984 -Busy day packed with meetings etc – UC (Union Committee meeting) in afternoon – worked till late. Had meal. Went round finding advertising, union etc.

Wednesday, 8 August 1984 – Fairly busy day in office – went over to Ashley’s {Fletcher] in eve – drank a lot and dossed out there.

Thursday 9 August 1984 -Fairly busy getting stuff done before going away – worked till late – went to disco.

I took some long weekends/”few day breaks” during that summer vacation. During that August period, I went to the Wirral/Merseyside to stay with Bobbie Scully.

Friday, 10 August 1984 – Met senior tutor {Eddie Slade] in morning and then left for Liverpool – had a lazy afternoon and eve. Went to a pub in the eve.

Saturday, 11 August 1984 – Got up late – went into town [Liverpool from Wallasey] in afternoon – returned to town in evening to see play – stayed up late.

Sunday, 12 August 1984 – Late again – went bowling in New Brighton – drank in a pub in Eve – stayed up late watching videos etc.

Monday, 13 August 1984 -Got up late – went to Southport for the afternoon & evening – had meal – very pleasant – late night again.

I guessed that we went to see Alan Bleasdale’s Having A Ball. The Theatr Clwyd production we saw – here is the Theatricalia link – was reviewed thusly in the Liverpool Echo:

Ball EchoBall Echo 26 Apr 1984, Thu Liverpool Echo (Liverpool, Merseyside, England) Newspapers.com

…but that production closed before 13 August, so we must have gone to see that one on one of my earlier visits or when it came to Stoke.

I’m guessing we therefore saw Cavern Of Dreams at the Liverpool Playhouse on that occasion, which picked up this interesting preview in The Post:

Cavern Post KeyCavern Post Key 23 Jul 1984, Mon Daily Post (3 a.m. ed.) (Liverpool, Merseyside, England) Newspapers.com

I don’t think we were wild about that play/production.

Tuesday, 14 August 1984 – Returned to Keele the UC in afternoon. John boy and I did disco in eve – good fun and quite successful.

Wednesday, 15 August 1984 – busyish day in office – got quite a lot done. Spent evening in union and KRA.

Thursday, 16 August 1984 – Quite a busy day in the office – went to Burtonwood piss up with Frank [Dillon] in eve.

Friday, 17 August 1984 – Busyish day in office etc. Went down KRA in evening.

Pady Jalali (Social Secretary) was determined to break a “disco DJ cartel”, which meant that a select group of students were paid to DJ discos. Pady’s view was that the gig was so popular she could auction the spots and get people to pay for the privilege of being DJ. Although she wasn’t going to go that far, she was going to stop paying people and anticipated a “strike”, which we agreed that the committee would “break” by DJ-ing the discos ourselves until enough willing students put their hands up for the gigs.

Hence me and John “doing the disco” for the first time that Tuesday evening. We almost certainly had just a small gathering of Open University students that evening. Good fun probably means that John and I enjoyed it as much or more than the punters. Quite successful must mean that we got the punters dancing.

We got better at DJ-ing as we went along.

There’s more to it than just a couple of knobs and a dance floor… Photo by Tristan Schmurr from Luxembourg, Luxembourg, CC BY 2.0

John & I didn’t have to DJ for long into the term, but, having learnt the art during the summer we put our hands up a few times during the academic year. More on that anon.

O Captain! My Captain! – Gentlemen Of The Right v Players Of The Left – Keele Festival Week Cricket Match, 26 June 1984

Toby Bourgein. Picture “liberated” from the 1980/81 Keele Prospectus

I am sadly motivated to write up this story having learnt, a few days ago (September 2020), that Toby Bourgein has died. Toby captained the Players cricket team in all three of the festival matches I played. I had been intending to write up this glorious 1984 match for a couple of years, since I wrote up the tale of my surprise appearance in the 1982 match..

“Got Roped In To Playing Cricket All Afternoon”, Gentlemen v Players Cricket Match, Keele Festival Week, 24 June 1982

…and the 1983 match…

My Second “Thanks For Coming” (TFC) Keele Festival Week Cricket Match, 21 June 1983

For those not motivated to click the above link, I was a late selection for the 1982 match (for reasons that, alone, make the 1982 link worth clicking). I did not bowl and I did not bat in that historic victory, but I did, more by luck than judgement, take a stunning catch.

It won’t have looked this good, I wouldn’t have been so suitably attired, but it was a diving (in my case left-handed) catch. This picture from school five years earlier. I was better at taking pictures than at playing cricket. Still am.

Toby Borgein had a long memory and a good heart. I ran into him a week or two before the 1984 match and he told me he wanted me to play again and have a proper go this time.

We have a solid opening batsman, Ian Herd, this year. I’d like you to open the batting with him.

Ian was on Somerset CCC’s youth books – i.e. he was way above “our” scratchy festival knock-about cricket pay grade. But I didn’t know that until later.

Several of my friends came along to watch this time around, not least because I knew more than 30 minutes before the start of the match that I’d be playing. Anyway, there were worse places on earth to spend a glorious summer afternoon than the Keele Festival Week Beer Tent.

With thanks to Frank Dillon, this picture of an earlier “Players” team, probably 1981

We (The Players) fielded first. I neither distinguished myself nor embarrassed myself in the field – unlike 1982, during which my fielding had met triumph and disaster; naturally treating both of those imposters just the same.

I was mostly fielding in the long grass where I was able to nurse my pint of ale and seemingly play cricket at the same time. Who says men cannot multi-task?

Keele University Playing Field

The Gentlemen scored a little over 100 in their innings. A respectable but hopefully not insurmountable score for that fixture, based on previous experiences.

Then to bat. Sadly I have no pictures from the 1982, 1983 nor the 1984 event – if any are subsequently uncovered/scanned I shall add them. Here is the earliest photo of me going in to bat I can find; from 1998:

If you imagine Barnes Hall to the right of me and the tennis courts, beer tents etc. to the left, this could almost be the Keele playing fields. Almost, I said.

I still hadn’t picked up a cricket bat since school, unless you count the 1983 net and subsequent nought not out without facing a ball. But I was quite fit that summer, having played tennis regularly before (more or less during) and after my finals.

Anyway, Ian Herd could bat. We rattled along. I helped to see the shine off the new ball. I suspect that Ian made a greater contribution towards seeing off the shine by knocking the ball to all parts, but we’ll let that aspect pass.

The crowd was probably more heavily weighted towards Players’ supporters than Gentlemen’s supporters, but in any case by the second half of the match vocal chords were more lubricated.

In what seemed like next to no time, there was a cry from the crowd…

50-up

…allowing me and Ian a joyous moment of handshaking celebration in the middle.

“I think I’d better ‘hit out or get out’ to give some of the others a go this year”, I said.

“Good idea”, said t’other Ian

It didn’t take long (one ball) for me to loft one up in the air and get caught.

More tumultuous applause as I came off, with the score on 53/1.

“Fifty partnership – great stuff”, said Toby, ever the encouraging captain

I remember Bobbie Scully and Ashley Fletcher both being there. and both expressing joy in my performance and surprise that I could play. I’m pretty sure that several of my fellow Union Committee members, not least John White, Kate Fricker and Pady Jalali were around too.

Remember, folks, that everyone was quite well oiled by then and no-one was REALLY watching…

…apart from the scorer.

The scorer was Doreen Steele’s son. Doreen was the Students’ Union accountant and the NUPE shop steward for the union staff. Her son clearly aspired to similar careers.

“How many of the 53 did I score?”, I asked.

“Three”, said the lad.

“Are you sure it wasn’t four?” I asked, having counted to four in my head.

“You’re probably including a leg bye…”

“…I hit that ball onto my pad, actually…”

“…the umpire signalled leg bye. It was a leg bye…

…you scored three.”

You can’t argue with that schoolboy logic.

Nor can you argue with the fact that I had been part of a fifty partnership in a cricket match.

Nor can you argue with the fact that Toby Bourgein had pulled off a captaincy masterstroke…or at least a warm, generous gesture that meant a lot to me.

But did The Players win the match, I hear you cry? You bet your sweet pint of Marston’s Pedigree we won.

This story has subsequently been further immortalised on the King Cricket website:

Players (of the left) v Gentlemen (of the right) – match report + wagon wheel

Toby Bourgein will be better remembered at Keele for many other things, not least his student activism. The one other picture I have of him, below, is from a protest we attended together in 1982. But I remember Toby especially fondly for these silly cricket matches, for which he was, O Captain! My Captain!

Toby bottom left, looking suitably senior and serious about fighting the cuts.
Me towards the right, in trope-inducing donkey jacket, holding diagonal corner of the campus model

Meet Lord Rochester, The Curious Case Of Martin Dent’s Farm, Mavis’s Leaving Do, Barnes L54 Pub Crawl & More, Mid June 1984

Not THAT Lord Rochester, that would defy reason!

It seems that our sabbatical year technically started in early/mid June. Who knew? I suppose we did. Anyway, diary says so.

My First Sabbatical Week

Sunday, 10 June 1984 – Earlyish start – pottered – played tennis with Pud [Alan Gorman] – went to dinner with Jula and Aid at Bobbie’s in eve – earlyish night.

Monday, 11 June 1984 – Met Lord Rochester [Rt Hon The Lord Rochester, DL, then Chair of the University’s Council] in morning – first proper day [of sabbatical] – UGM in evening – heavy – Bobby came back after (party bit).

Leisure Games place probably looked a bit like this. Lino Wirag, CC BY-SA 4.0

Tuesday, 12 June 1984 – Busy day – went to Leisure Games [supplier of pinball and arcade machines to the union] lunch, v nice, played tennis with Viv early eve – went union in eve with Bobbie and Jula.

Wednesday, 13 June 1984 – Loads of meetings etc today (including Senate etc.) – Went down union in evening after – Bobbie came back.

Thursday, 14 June 1984 – Hard day at work – UC [Union Committee] dragged on etc. Played tennis in early eve [that must have been Alan Gorman again as unnamed] – went union for drink in evening Bobbie and Jula.

Friday, 15 June 1984 – Busy day in the office today – went to Candles in evening with Bobbie.

Saturday, 16 June 1984- Went to Martin Dent’s farm with Bobby and Co for day – very pleasant day. Stayed at B’s after.

The visit to Martin Dent’s Farm was one of the strangest and most memorable days I spent during my five years at Keele. Bobbie studied politics as well as law. Martin Dent was her tutor for a course in international politics.

In many ways Martin Dent’s glory days were ahead of him while we were at Keele – in the 1990s he achieved fame and praise as the brains behind The Jubilee Campaign, which successfully led to the cancellation of $120 Billion of developing world debt in the year 2000 – back when $120 Billion was real money. Here is a link to an article about Jubilee 2000 on the Keele website.

Here is a link to Martin’s obituary in The Guardian.

“Bobbie & Co” refers to the small group of students who were in Martin’s final year tutor group that year, including the suggestion, “bring your boyfriends and girlfriends if you wish”, which is why I tagged along with Bobs.

While it was, in essence, simply a day out on a farm where we ate, drank, walked and chatted, it was hugely memorable, due to Martin’s benevolent eccentricity.

The first thing we did after gathering outside the Union for this outing was a visit to the campus store, where Martin bought a full set of crockery and metal cutlery for our picnic. I think the food had been sort-of catered and was already loaded into a coach/minibus which was waiting for us.

When we arrived at the farm, which was apparently something that Martin had inherited and which he left in the hands of managing/tenant farmers, we had to clear away the previous year’s picnic, which meant throwing away a full set of crockery and cutlery which had long-since caked on & decayed food all over it. This seemed, to me, to be a novel approach to the concept of single use cutlery and crockery which was certainly not good for the planet.

We also got the impression that Martin’s team at the farm were less than happy, to the point of being contemptuous, on the rare occasions that their boss visited his farm. I remember Martin making one or two suggestions to them, which I felt from their responses were destined to be ignored. But then, I also felt that the matters were destined to be forgotten by Martin within moments of his pronouncements.

Yet it was clear from that day out and from my subsequent chats with martin during my sabbatical year, that he was a thoroughly decent and incredibly warm-hearted man. I don’t suppose he could imagine anything other than warm-heartedness in others, which for some of his enterprises was a problem but, ultimately, when he took his big ideas about world debt forward, he made a much larger contribution to reducing inequality and poverty in this world than most politicians could dream of.

I’m sure many readers have interesting memories of Martin – feel free to share them here.

Sir Thomas Fowell Buxton, 1st Baronet Buxton of Belfield and Runton. Abolitionist extraordinaire and Martin Dent’s Great, great, great grandfather.

My Second Sabbatical Week

Sunday, 17 June 1984 – rose quite early – laundry etc. Played tennis in afternoon [Alan Gorman again] – cooked Bobby a vindaloo in evening – very nice.

Monday, 18 June 1984 – Busyish day at work. Went to union for drink in evening.

Tuesday 19 June 1984 – busy day in office – went to Lindsay coffee lounge do in early eve – stayed in after (tired).

Wednesday 20 June 1984 – Big and tiring day with meetings etc. Early eve – went to Mavis’s retirement do – stayed in with Bobby after.

Thursday, 21 June 1984 – Busy day with meetings etc – went to Senate and Council reception in early eve – on to Lindsay Ball after – late night.

Friday, 22 June 1984 – Meetings etc – busy day – not feeling at all well today – put in brief appearance at L54 [Barnes, my flat] pub crawl – came back – slept.

Saturday 23 June 1984 – Still not well today – went to Newcastle in afternoon etc – Went to Coach House for eve – v nice – went back to Bobbie’s.

I seem to recall Mavis’s leaving do being written up in Concourse and I’m pretty sure I have a copy somewhere – I’ll add an appendix with the article if/when I find it. I am also making a mental (and written) note here to discuss soon with John White how we might liaise over writing some of these tales from our sabbatical year, as many of the interesting stories will be shared ones from that year and I think he possibly even kept diaries still at that time.

Postscript: Actually The Evening Sentinel’s write up of Mavis’s do was better than the Concourse one – really charming:
Sentinel Mavis Leaving DoSentinel Mavis Leaving Do 25 Jun 1984, Mon Evening Sentinel (Stoke-on-Trent, Staffordshire, England) Newspapers.com

I’d almost forgotten Bobbie’s taste for a hot curry back then. Her dad was working in Pakistan and Nigeria a lot at that time, as a civil engineer – Bobbie acquired a taste for serious spices on her visits to those places. I don’t think vindaloo appeared on my cooking menu much after that era.

Anyone remember who played Lindsay Ball that summer? As I didn’t note the name, it quite possibly wasn’t a memorable name to me.

I don’t remember much about the summer L54 pub crawl, but I did write up the winter one from six month’s earlier. The memories (or lack thereof) are probably an amalgam of the two:

Oh Balls! Two Balls & A Pub Crawl In One Keele December Week, 12 to 18 December 1983

Post-Finals, Pre-Sabbatical, At Keele & At Large, Part One: Early June 1984

Billy Joel, by Rob Mieremet / Anefo, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

It was a strange yet joyful period, that short interval between completing my finals and graduating, during which time I started work as Education & Welfare Officer for the Student’s Union at Keele.

Bobbie sensibly arranged some post-finals treats and outings for us during that time, plus there were various “goodbye” parties to attend as finalists, while I also had several “hello” receptions to attend as an incoming sabbatical.

This piece covers the week 3 to 9 June 1984 the highlight of which, for me, was a whistle-stop visit to London/Wembley, with Bobbie, to see, amongst other things, Billy Joel at Wembley Arena.

Sunday, 3 June 1984 – Got up fairly early – did little all day – played tennis etc – went to union with Bobbie in eve – Asian Cultural [Society] and drink after.

Monday, 4 June 1984 – Spent most of the day in the E&W [Education & Welfare] office – sorted one or two things out etc – Constitutional Committee in eve – Bobbies for a while.

Tuesday, 5 June 1984 – Spent most of day in E&W office – went to a couple of meetings/committees etc – sorted things – played tennis – went over to Bobby’s in eve – early night.

Wednesday, 6 June 1984- Rose very early – went to London – Chinese lunch, Middle Temple [Bobbie’s chosen Inn of Court], British Museum, light dinner – Wembley for Billy Joel gig – got last train.

That Billy Joel gig was very good and very memorable. It seems he did three nights at Wembley Arena, one of which (the Friday I believe) was broadcast by the BBC in sound and vision, thus recorded for posterity.

Thursday, 7 June 1984 – Got back [from London] late – rose late – shopped – went union – laundry – elections – E&W office. B and I went union in eve (quiet) – came back here.

Friday, 8 June 1984 – spent most of day in union – Sherry with A&C (appointments and counselling). UC (union committee) over “corruption” most of the day – went over Bobbie’s in evening – union etc.

Saturday, 9 June 1984 – Went shopping in morn – Buxton Derbyshire in afternoon – lunch, tea etc – had Chinese meal in Hanley (eve) – went to party in Thorns after – Bobbie came back.

I guess that Union Committee meeting on 8 June was the first wind that I and my fellow incoming UC members had of the serious issues we were to inherit with regard to the bars. I would not now describe it as having been corruption, but that was presumably how it was pitched to us that day. More on that saga will follow in later pieces.

Buxton Derbyshire is a charming place to visit. Calm too – in contrast with the frenetic existence as a sabbatical, which I had chosen to pursue for the next 12 months.

Buxton Derbyshire by Chris Harris, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons