I spent two of my five years at Keele in Barnes L54, as reported on these pages in several past pieces. I have happy memories of my time there, not least because my time sharing a flat at Keele was the only time in my life that I have flat-shared in that “Home Of Multiple Occupation” sense.
I was really touched when I stumbled across the following letter from the June 1984 edition of Concourse.
In truth I barely remember the four of us deciding to write that letter to Concourse. Part of the motivation was mine, to make a public goodbye to the flat. the other three, after all, were to stay on in the flat after I had departed, with Hayward Burt joining them in my place:
Hayward quite literally in my place: in 1985, Barnes L54 as THAT’S EXACTLY where I used to sit. Thanks Mark Ellicott for the picture.
The references in Concourse to Barnes L54 being a Machiavellian Students’ Union political stronghold mostly emanated from my H Ackgrass column, ably assisted by my spies, three of whom were my flatmates. So the argument is more than a little bit circular and the “gripe” was really an in joke amongst us, not least becuase my identity as H Ackgrass remained a secret for a further year.
The gossip-fest to which I refer was mostly in my third Ackgrass column, although I think there was also at least a mention in the previous column.
I have managed to re-engage with the West Country contingent (Chris Spencer and Hayward) as part of my Ogblogging process. Pete Wild seems harder to contact – if anyone out there is in touch with him, I expect he’d enjoy seeing this letter again.
Sadly, Alan “The Great Yorkshire Pudding” Gorman died several years ago, having moved to the USA quite soon after graduating. His widow, Susan and sons have been following these Barnes L54 reminiscences and I hope they find this letter as touching as I did. It reads, to me, like mostly Alan’s writing, informed/tweaked by the rest of us. It oozes his sense of humo(u)r.
Moved I was. Physically moved, at the end of August 1984, to a small tutor’s flat in K-Block Horwood. Emotionally moved, by re-finding this letter in that old copy of Concourse, during August 2024.
My series of pieces about my somewhat distracted run up to finals at Keele in 1984 might have given readers the impression that I was doing very little reading and paying little heed to my papers.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
Indeed, reflecting on my two happy academic years living in Barnes L54, 1982/83 and 1983/84, I realise that there is an element of that lifestyle that has gone unmentioned in these pieces so far.
The newspapers.
From the outset, we took The Guardian as a flat through our kitty during term time. We also, if I remember correctly, took both The Sunday Times and The Observer on a Sunday.
Everyone in the flat at least dipped into the papers. The main beneficiaries of the paper habit were undoubtedly me and Alan “The Great Yorkshire Pudding” Gorman. In part, this is because we probably did more reading and dipping than anyone else, but also because we became addicted to doing The Guardian crossword.
“I’ve done most of it, Bagel Boy, see if you can finish it off”
Quite often, one or other of us would be up earlier, if we had lectures or classes to attend while the other did not. More likely Alan would get to the paper first, as he more often had early classes and I would quite often stay at Bobbie’s and return in the morning. A note, along the lines of the above picture caption, might well be waiting for me in those circumstances.
Sometimes the earliest riser couldn’t get very far and the second-dipper would make most of the progress. The second-dipper’s note might have a more competitive tone to it in those circumstances.
It was an exercise in co-opetition rather than competition, though. Our mission was to complete the crossword between the two of us. We would regularly spend time on the puzzle together to finish it off, perhaps late afternoon or over our evening meal. Quite often we would succeed in completing the puzzle. Only occasionally would we be seriously confounded and fail spectacularly. Fairly often, we would struggle with just one or two clues at the end.
We became familiar with the compilers – some easier than others. Often our nemesis was Araucaria, who was known as a difficult compiler. An example from our era is shown below;
In those days, there was no Google or ChatGPT to resort to if we were stuck. We might check the spelling of a word in the dictionary or resort to my trusty copy of Roget’s Thesaurus if desperate, but the clues that confounded us tended to be factual items.
I remember one occasion when we were both struggling to work out where Tanganyika Territory was, to try to resolve a clue. I think Alan might even have ventured to the library to get intelligence on that one and I vaguely recall that the intelligence did not help us solve the clue. That was probably one of Araucaria’s. Forty years later, I have only just learnt the significance of the compiler’s name.
Araucaria araucana (Monkey Puzzle Tree) BillyKwiki at the English-language Wikipedia, CC BY-SA 3.0
One other vain attempt to solve a sole remaining clue lives clearly in my memory. The clue was something to do with a Roman writer/historian and the answer only required four letters – blank-I-blank-Y. The answer, to spare you the agony that Alan and I went through, was LIVY. But neither of us were familiar with the works of Livy. Indeed, the only four letter word Roman writer either of us could think of was Ovid. I became convinced that Ovid might well have been known as “Vidy” to his friends, after which we explored many different permutations of “blank-I-blank-Y”. We had a good laugh over some of the possibilities we invented. We would advocate a name and then extemporize the tale of this imagined Roman’s character and works.
One or two of the ideas we explored, tongue in cheek, would not pass the political correctness test. The only Roman historian I could think of was Flavius Josephus – who knows how his detractors might have nicknamed him? Alan and I spent an inordinate amount of time and effort coming up with possible answers to this crossword clue, one of which was probably Livy, but we gave that idea no more credence than any other permutation we could invent.
The meaning of this image for this story will become apparent if you read on!
Forty years after the event, I can still give myself the collywobbles by reading my diary entries for the weeks approaching my finals at Keele. Economics and Law, just in case you were wondering.
I never have been much use at revising for exams. These were important exams to say the least. I sense that I distinguished myself for these big ones by being proportionately dreadful at knuckling down to revision.
I was, at least, quite brutally honest in my diary as to what I was – and wasn’t – doing around that time.
This multi-part article on how not to revise for your finals might serve as an object lesson to students everywhere.
Let’s start with a transcription from my diary for the first 10 days of April 1984:
Sunday 1 April 1984 – Got up late! Did little all day – Viv [Robinson] came round in afternoon – had nice meal and early night.
Monday 2 April 1984 – Got up quite late – Ashley [Fletcher] came round. Went into town – shopped and went to Ashley’s – Bobbie [Scully] left – easyish evening – went Union with Mel [Melissa Oliveck] for last orders – early night.
Tuesday, 3 April 1984 – Tried to do some work today – not too successfully. Went to Union in the evening with Mel.
Wednesday, 4 April 1984 – Late start – intermittent work – went to union with Malcolm [Cormelius] in the evening.
Thursday, 5 April 1984 – Did some work today – intermittently -big demo against Police Bill [which became the Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984]. Went to KRA in evening with Malcolm.
Friday, 6 April 1984 – worked quite hard today – shopped etc – went to Union in eve – had a bop!
Saturday, 7 April 1984 – busyish day. Worked quite hard on project today. Went to union in eve – disco etc.
Sunday, 8 April 1984 – Worked on project today after late start. Visited Q92 [my Malay friends] etc. Went to Union for last orders.
Monday, 9 April 1984 = Shopped and worked today. Went to KRA with Malc, Farm [Chris Spencer] and Mel – nice evening.
Tuesday, 10 April 1984 – Worked hard on project all day. Went to Careless Talk meeting in evening, then union, then K41 do.
Some points to note here. Firstly, there are some references to working hard, but they are unquestionably linked to finishing my project – i.e. my Economics dissertation on the Economics of the Pharmaceutical Industry. I am proud of that piece of work, which achieved a first class mark, but in truth it should have been finished before revision time came around in April 1984.
My flat, Barnes L54, had just two of us regular residents: me and Chris “Farmer” Spencer. Pete Wild’s girlfriend, Melissa Oliveck, was there, at least for that first chunk of the vacation, while Malcolm Cornelius was occupying Alan “Great Yorkshire Pudding” Gorman’s room.
One aspect, unmentioned in the diary but which I remember very clearly, was a short-lived tradition of making Irish coffee at the end of the evening on return from the Union. I was reminded of this a couple of weeks ago (March 2024) when my wife, Janie, ordered an Irish coffee after our meal in Petworth (see headline image and below).
“You were a role model…on how NOT to revise…”
I recalled that we were trying to get work done for our finals, so were not spending much time in the bar. Instead, Malcolm and I tried many different ways to prepare the Irish coffee in the flat – all in the interests of science of course.
I remarked to the maître d’ in Petworth that Malcolm and I had concluded that the essential component to make the cream float nicely was the sugar content within the coffee. The maître d’ explained that, to get a full-on Irish coffee to look the way the coffee looks in our photos, you also need to bring each ingredient to the right temperature before combining and use cream with the right fat content.
Back to the drawing board, Malc.
The woeful tale of my attempts to revise for finals will continue soon, after a short interlude next time, to describe a visit that Ashley Fletcher and I made to a Keeley food collective group in Newcastle.
Pete Wild c1985 – with thanks to Mark Ellicott for the picture.
As had become my habit, I returned to Keele very early in the year, well ahead of the start of term, after lunching with Caroline on the Tuesday and Jilly on the Wednesday.
5 January 1984 – Got up early – bought amp – lazed around – returned to Keele – v tired.
6 January 1984 – did v little all day. Visited Andrea [Collins, later Woodhouse] – she came back for dinner – went on to Union
7 January 1984 – Did litle today – lazed and shopped – visited Michelle [Epstein, later Infield] – went union with Hippo in eve
The “amp” will have been for my parents’ house. I still only had a ghetto blaster at Keele that year.
I don’t remember nicknaming Pete Wild “Hippo”, but I write it that way twice in the diary around that time so it must have been a thing. His initial nickname was “Hippy” on account of his long hair. but there was a certain hippo quality about him, clumsily rushing about the flat, sometimes causing carnage.
The thing I do remember is that I had decided over Christmas to vent my frustration with the Students’ Union committee by writing secretly a gossip column for Concourse. I’m not sure that I had, by early January, settled on the name, “H Ackgrass”, but I had done a fair bit of thinking about my methods of secrecy.
Espionage-Style Tricks: Two Typewriters & Several Collaborators
I had two portable typewriters at Keele. One that I was using for my work, which was a decent quality item, I think acquired second-hand from a departing student the year before. It was a Smith-Corona that looked a little like this:
My other typewriter was a cheap generic which I had bought/been given several years earlier and had bashed into decrepitude – hence my procurement of a better one for my studies. The old generic (ghastly orange case) languished in a cupboard and almost certainly no-one at Keele had seen the tell-tale skew-iffy-look typing that emanated from it. In my earlier, Concourse journalist, days…
The quirky old generic was to be the gossip columnist’s tool (as it were). It was to remain hidden except when used for producing the Ackgrass column.
I also worked out that I would need collaborators…aka spies…to help gather information for the column and help keep my identity a mystery. By necessity, I would need to take all of my Barnes L54 flatmates and Bobbie into my confidence about this idea, as it would be nigh-on impossible to hide it from those people anyway.
That much I’m sure I discussed with Pete on my return to Keele in early January. Pete loved the idea and was keen to be one of my spies. He had already set ambitions to run for Union Committee 1984/85, as had his girlfriend, Melissa (Mel) Oliveck. I recall that those nascent conversations included the idea that Melissa should also be one of my spies, as she was spending so much time at the flat it would be awkward to keep the secret from here. Also, Mel could probably could acquire intelligence on some union people that the rest of us would not be able to access.
Our other flatmates, Chris Spencer and Alan Gorman, were not really involved with the union at all, but would still be helpful foils for testing material and honing jokes. Alan, in particular, enjoyed lampooning student politics and had a wicked sense of humour.
8 January 1984 – busyish day cataloguing etc. Went Union in evening with Hippo
9 January 1984 – Left Keele – went to Liverpool. Went with Bobbie to Karate Club – went on to pub with friends after.
10 January 1984 – Went to Chester in afternoon & stayed in Wallasey in evening – went to pub etc.
11 January 1984 – Went into the City today – shopped etc. In eve B[obbie] graded Karate & I went on after – we went to several pubs etc.
The cataloguing was probably to do with my music – not least my cassette collection at Keele, which was getting large enough that I needed documentary help to find things.
A Brief Interlude On Merseyside With Bobbie
Bobbie was an exponent of Shotokan karate. Rather a good exponent of it. I seem to recall that the grading she took while I was hanging around was for brown belt with two stripes. I had no idea what that really meant, other than the fact that “rather a good exponent” becomes a fair description at that level.
Alan Gorman also took up Shotokan karate at Keele and I understand he continued his interest in it when he moved to the USA some years later. I cannot remember whether Alan was already doing karate when I got together with Bobbie or whether it was Bobbie’s inspiration that got him into the sport. Bobbie can’t remember either, but is sure that Alan was far enough behind her in the karate progress that they didn’t really overlap (e.g. as sparring partners) at the Keele karate club.
I think that early evening session at a Liverpool Club was the only time I watched Bobbie practicing karate.
My recollection of the evening out with her Liverpool karate mates is of a friendly, mostly working class bunch of lads (I think Bobbie might have been the only lass). They made me feel very welcome when we all went to the pub afterwards, while at the same time letting me know that I was incurably southern and “posh”. Bobbie, on the other hand, rather like the character Zelig in the then recent film, slowly but surely morphed from a middle-class-accented lass from Wallasey into a scouse-accented Liverpudlian, “one of the lads”, especially by around the third drink.
The following day in Chester was more genteel, of course.
Bobbie pootled us around in a Citroen that looked a little like the one depicted above. I vaguely remember seeing her in my second year (her first) peering up from below the steering wheel of her dad’s Jag, which seemed a rather incongruous vehicle in Lindsay Hall, but it did get Bobbie noticed. Bobbie’s dad worked abroad a lot and thought (perhaps mistakenly) that the car would be safer in Bobbie’s hands at Keele than untended on a suburban street in Wallasey.
Let’s just reflect for a moment on the fact that, in the karate guys eyes, I was deemed posh, while Bobbie was deemed one of the lads.
Let’s move on.
I don’t really remember the pub in Wallasey, but that is one detail that Bobbie might actually remember when she reads this. Bobbie still spends much of her time up there these days (forty years later), when she is not in London.
I remember warm hospitality from Bobbie’s mum and dad (I think just her mum on that occasion, as dad was away), plus a font of wisdom in the form of their “family retainer”, a Merseyside lady you might choose from central casting to fulfil that role, slightly confusingly named Robbie.
The final day in Liverpool was great fun. Bobbie gave me a guided tour, then left me to my own devices for a while when she went for her karate grading. Successfully graded, we then went on a bit of a pub crawl.
I don’t remember all the pubs we tried – I doubt if Bobbie remembers all that much about it – but I do recall that we ended up in The Grapes.
I’m pretty sure it was in The Grapes where we got roped in to an impromptu Irish sing song, which would not have looked out of place in a Disney-style movie depicting such a place and event.
I vaguely knew what was going on in Whiskey In the Jar and The Wild Rover, but got more than a little confused when “Mush-a ring dumb-a do dumb-a da” and/or “right up your kilt” came into play. I remember trying to get Bobbie to explain to me what I was supposed to be doing/singing and Bobbie telling me not to worry about it and just join in making noise.
I probably sounded as Irish singing those songs as Dick Van Dyke sounded cockney singing Chim Chim Cher-ee. But then I’m not sure how Irish everyone else sounded in that pub.
…yet still felt a bit of an old hand/expert when visiting Liverpool all those years later. It’s that sort of unforgettable place.
…Then Back To Keele…
I expect I broached the matter of H Ackgrass and the proposed spy network with Bobbie while we were in Liverpool…or at least on the way back to Keele on the Thursday. I think she quite liked the idea without really wanting to be involved, other than as a sounding board and one of the group that was in the know.
12 January 1984 – Left Liverpool today – returned to Keele – shopped etc. Met Ashley [Fletcher] in Union & drank – Bobbie came back – had restless night – felt bad.
13 January 1984 – Felt really funny all day – had loads of visitors today etc. Not very well at all. Feverish all night.
14 January 1984 – Didn’t feel too bad in the morning. Shopped and did a few things. Took Bobbie out for dinner in eve – very pleasant evening.
There is a wonderfully memorable episode in I Claudius, when Caligula falls ill and then emerges relatively soon after his indisposition refreshed, announcing that he has, in the meantime, become a god.
Reading those three diary entries, I just wonder whether I emerged from short but nasty-sounding fever fully formed in the matter of my nom de plume, Herbert Ackgrass.
Parenthetically, I also wonder where I might have taken Bobbie for that very pleasant “out for dinner”. I do remember one acceptably good bistro in Newcastle-Under-Lyme but I cannot remember the name. Perhaps the hive mind of readers will help me out with that one.
Be that as it may, having emerged from my fever alive and therefore stronger, the fruits of those H Ackgrass scribbles, or should I say skewiffy typings, would start to emerge soon enough.
Crumbs, what a busy week. Forty years later, the equivalent week, “just a few sleeps before Christmas” remains so for me, with deadlines to meet and lots of socials to attend.
My business with classes etc. is what one might expect for a finalist at the end of the autumn term. The business with Constitutional Committee will have been about agreeing the process for me to rewrite the union constitution over Christmas. The things I would take on back then! Not sure whether the visit to Malcolm on Monday would have been that sort of student political machination or a chance to decompress over a drink or two…or both. Malcolm might remember but I doubt it.
Lindsay Ball, 13 December 1983
More importantly, does anyone remember who headlined at the Lindsay Ball that December? I was quite a cynic by then, so “v good” as a verdict means that the ball was very good. But who did we see perform? Answers, if anyone remembers, please.
I had managed to avoid Gary Glitter on two previous ball occasions at Keele. My very first freshers’ ball was glitter free due to his indisposition – we had Stardust instead:
Bev Howarth made an interesting choice of support act in King Kurt. They had a wild reputation for food fights and the like at their gigs around that time. Rumour has it that Pady Jalali (who at first sight does not look like someone who could boss King Kurt around) managed to keep them in check for that gig, a display of courage that might have helped her to get elected Social Secretary for the following year.
Here’s a sample of their most famous song and video – which would not come close to passing a political correctness test today, I feel bound to add:
https://youtu.be/aS9uPvAvqc0
Any band with a lead singer named Gary “The Smeg” Clayton is bound to be close to the edge…or over that edge hurtling towards the rocks of opprobrium. Still, next to his namesake Glitter, Gary “The Smeg” looks like a paragon of virtue, I suppose. And I can hardly talk, having gone on to write a parody song about the Zulu leader, Mangosuthu Buthelezi, 10 years later:
I have no recollection which pubs we crawled around, but I’ll guess that The Victoria was one of them and one of the few that is still there. The group that crawled will have been the four of us who actually lived in Barnes L54 at that time: Me, Alan “The Great Yorkshire Pudding” Gorman, Chris Spencer, Pete Wild, almost certainly also my then girlfriend Bobbie Scully (never one to say no to an end of term pub crawl), Melissa Oliveck (Pete’s then girlfriend) and possibly others. If anyone recalls, I’d love to include more details on that event.
I think I can safely say that we visited several pubs in the vicinity and all had too much to drink. Students, honestly.
These images of Keele thanks to Graham Sedgley. How can you be in a blue funk in a place with red skies like that?
Something irked me in the penultimate week of term that year. The diary has more than its usual smattering of negativity.
I cannot remember what would have led to the phrase:
…UGM in eve – sabotaged…
…but that will for sure have irked me.
I sense that I was pretty busy that week with both studies and union stuff and I suspect that, whatever the sabotage was, I thought it disruptive and a cause of uneccessary work on my part.
I know I was already sensing that the 1983/84 committee on the whole was not very good and that there were aspects of the Union that mattered to me that felt out of control.
I also recall planning with Viv Robinson to promote the election season to try to ensure that the students engaged with that process – more on that will follow early in 1984. Similarly, I took it upon myself as Chair of Constitutional Committee to attempt to revise the constitution in order to remove some of the procedural loopholes that were enabling sabotage. More on that anon too.
Thursday – A Liberal Array Of Activities
A moving story if ever there was one
One of the more strange collections of activities is listed for Thursday:
V busy day – odds and ends – helped Ashley [Fletcher] move bed in afternoon – went J-Soc -> Liberal party in evening
I don’t think I am a good candidate for helping anyone move a bed from one part of Stoke to another, especially not a team comprising me and Ashley.
Just the thought of it brings to mind the following short film:
As for the “Liberal Party” later in the day, that would not be the actual political party, of course, but a party thrown by the bunch of Liberal activists who had arrived at Keele that year, who included my flatmate Pete Wild and Hayward Burt, both of whom depicted in the following picture:
Tony Roberts (Conservative), Pete Wild (then Liberal) and Hayward Burt (then Liberal, now Conservative), photo thanks to Mark Ellicott (formerly Conservative but subsequently radical)
My Barnes L54 flatmate Chris Spencer would no doubt have been there, as would Melissa Oliveck, who was Pete’s girlfriend at the time and a regular visitor to Barnes L54.
Friday 9 December – Busyish day – really pissed off today – went Hanley in eve with Ashley – Bobbie’s for a while in eve
I wonder what pissed me off. The Union business? Writers block for one of those pesky essay deadlines? Back ache from helping Ashley to move his bed? Head ache from overindulging liberally at the previous night’s party? Whatever caused it, I don’t suppose Bobbie enjoyed the experience of my mood on such days. Relatively rare in my case but I must have been REALLY pissed off to have noted such in my diary, which was normally spared such emotions.
Saturday 10 December – Busy sort of day. Shopping etc. Helped Ashley move in evening -> Black Lion -> two parties in eve. Stayed B.
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.
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!
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The Victoria – Photo by Rept0n1x, CC BY-SA 2.0
