For someone who is making a conscious effort to cut back on midweek evenings out, this was not a high-achieving week.
11 February 2019, BDO Binder Hamlyn Partners Reunion, Guildhall
It started with a gathering of former BDO Binder Hamlyn partners at the Guildhall. Michael Mainelli asked me to join him and Elisabeth in helping to host that event – the first regathering of those partners since the firm dissolved into Arthur Andersen and other firms in the mid 1990s.
Of course, I wasn’t a partner in that firm, but during my five-to-six years with the firm I did do most of my work for audit clients. I also did a couple of internal consultancy projects – such things were normally considered to be career-blight for consultants, but I was either considered to be sufficiently dispensable or savvy enough to survive such trials – I still haven’t worked out which.
Anyway, point is, I did know most of the characters who turned up at the Guildhall that evening, in the Members’ Dining Room, the very scene of the brawl I started, just a few weeks earlier, at the Z/Yen Christmas lunch.
They are quite a centric bunch, the former Binder Hamlyn partners, in contrast with the quirkier group that descended on the National Liberal Club a few days later. Perhaps that explains why Michael didn’t trial his Gresham Society talk on humour in lectures. Instead, Michael made full use of his gavel and kept the formalities mercifully brief.
Actually it was a really pleasant gathering; just a shame there were none of the consultancy partners there who might have enjoyed the merry tale of my despair at my first assignment…
…or that first musical jaunt to Oxford in 1989…
Anyway, I think the former partnership informally decided that it should regroup socially once every few years – certainly not leave it 20 to 25 years next time!
14 February 2019 – The Gresham Society Dinner – National Liberal Club
In fact we were on the way to the National Liberal Club when I discovered that Michael’s after dinner speech was to be on the subject of humour in Gresham lectures.
Excellent idea; it is always interesting when a professor chooses to speak on a subject about which he knows nothing…
…I said.
Michael laughed and then promptly added that joke to the start of his speech. It would be churlish to suggest that it got the best laugh of the whole speech, as there were lots of jokes in there…
…including, rather dangerously, I thought, one of my favourite intellectual jokes, the one about binary:
There are only 10 types of people in the world: Those who understand binary, and those who don’t.
I say, “dangerously”, because, of course, that is a joke that really only works properly on the printed page. As soon as you say “ten” or “one-zero” you have slightly killed the joke.
Had it been me, I’d have fallen back on my other favourite intellectual joke; the helium joke, which I think works much better orally than on the page, as long as it is delivered with good timing:
Helium walks into a bar.
The bartender says, “I’m sorry, we don’t serve noble gasses here”.
Helium doesn’t react.
Anyway, Michael’s after dinner talk was merely the apex of a very jolly evening. As usual, Tim Connell tried (and failed) to get through all the AGM business in five minutes. This time Tim double-failed; firstly by over-running in the first place, secondly by forgetting to re-elect the committee during the AGM bit which meant he had to hijack the start of the after-dinner revelry with that aspect of procedure.
Unusually this year we were graced with Iain Sutherland’s presence and he brought Bobbie Scully with him as a guest, which was a very pleasant surprise. Coincidentally, I had that very morning been Ogblogging about a visit to the theatre some thirty years ago with Bobbie to see the impenetrable Peter Handke play (or should I say dramatic poem?), The Long Way Round.
At the mention of this coincidence, Bobbie almost started hyper-ventilating as she remembers that particular theatre visit as quite the worst experience she can ever recall having at the theatre. If you click through you can read more.
Mercifully, Bobbie doesn’t seem to think that staying on for the second half was all my doing – she seems to think we both decided to stay out of charity to the performers, as we saw so many people leaving during the interval. So my memory of her begging me to leave during the interval and me insisting on us both staying is one of those false memories.
But back to the Gresham Society event, which no-one left early, even at the thought of an after dinner speech by Michael. It was, as always, a very convivial event with such interesting and friendly people.
Barbera Woodthorpe Browne organised a really charming touch for the evening – which ended up being on Valentine’s night this year due to availability of the venue – by sourcing large quantities of Valentine’s roses and seasonal gift bags enabling all of us to take the roses home to our loved ones.
15 February 2019 – Kim & Micky At Sanzio
The following evening Janie and I had dinner with Kim and Micky at Sanzio.
I realise, looking at the picture from our previous visit, that we not only sat at the same table again but we even sat in the same places again. Here is my account of that previous visit:
This time I was not required to sign any disclaimers in the restaurant, but Kim was very determined to prove that she is “good at logic” by trying to demonstrate some logic puzzles on the table, using glasses, bottles and the like to try to make those “pattern-grid” type puzzles.
Janie and Micky were utterly baffled by it. I kinda got what Kim was on about (for once) but seemed to irk her by suggesting that such logic puzzles are not the be-all and end-all of rationality and indeed formal logic.
Meanwhile Kim’s dinner table logic puzzles started to look and sound like an old duffer demonstrating military maneuvers or cricket field placings by moving the cruet around the table. And the more Janie protested that she doesn’t/cannot engage with such puzzles at all, the more Kim sought to explain, while insisting that Janie can.
Meanwhile, I have a funny feeling that Jean-Paul Sartre was sitting alone at the next table, contemplating existential logic. After dinner, I heard the gentleman say to the waitress, “I’d like a cup of coffee with sugar, but no cream”. The waitress acknowledged his order and Sartre returned to his ponderings. A minute or two later, the waitress returned and said, “I’m sorry, Monsieur Sartre, we don’t have any cream – is it OK without milk?”
