I have extracted a few good pages from the May 1985 edition of Concourse. By that time, my Education and Welfare sabbatical year was coming to an end, so the paper was interested in ushering in the new and ushering out the old. Hold the front page…
Superb picture of John White on the front page, the main (nay only) reason I have uploaded this page
There had been some sort of hoo-ha about the FY exams that Easter, so it seems that I got busy and Margaret Gordon (a lovely lass, I wonder what became of her?) interviewed me about it:
FY stands for Foundation Year, the late lamented “try a bit of everything” course, sadly no longer taught at Keele. Gresham College is perhaps the closest thing to it.
I like the next two pages – a double page spread on the new sabbaticals. Nice to still have pictures of faces I remember. Hayward Burt’s comments on my style raised a smile with me.
I don’t think the term “stress head” had been invented back then, not least because, if it had existed, I think that is exactly the term Hayward would have used to describe me.
I love this little article about John White, Kate Fricker and the Students’ Union cleaners. John looks like a rabbit startled by headlights in the picture. Little did he know that he would subsequently become seasoned for photo shoots, such as his gig as the poster boy for Food Retailer Monthly magazine (or whatever it was called, why can’t I remember?)
Top tank top, John.
Finally the following review of the UGM. These days, the (anonymous) author of this piece would surely not get away with the ethno-physiognomy remark made about me, especially in that context. Where was editor Krista Cowman’s red pen when I needed it? Surely the UGM and Concourse should have been safe space from such comments for people like me? Is it too late for me to seek redress?
Strangely, I have no recollection whatsoever of reading that comment before, although I must have read it, so it must have seemed like water of a duck’s par for the course back then.
Lots of juicy bits from the February 1985 issue of Concourse. Here’s the first of them.
Annalisa de Mercur, bless her, was very concerned that the Student Union’s bar licence might get scuppered, which would indeed have been a near-existential problem for the union. The storm was very much of the teacup variety, I’d have thought, for the reasons described in the article.
How Pady Jalali and Hayward Burt ended up in an intra-article debate with the Vice-chancellor, Dr Harrison, is anybody’s guess. Methinks Annalisa might have been trying to big up her piece, as it were.
The health centre fee had been an ongoing issue, if the 1984 manifestos are anything to go by. John “Memory Man” White will hopefully chime in on the comments to describe in intricate detail the nature of the new-look campaign he planned. I don’t remember a thing about it, although welfare was my bailiwick.
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.
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
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.
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.
Whose idea was it to have a Keele Union Committee team-building countryside retreat in Somerset early January? I’d love to “blame” anyone and everyone on the committee but me. However, my appointments diary entry of 22 November reminds me that I was involved in the planning.
“Farm & Fricker (4.30 to 5.00 pm)”, I now realise, was a meeting with Kate (now Susan) Fricker and Chris “Farmer” Spencer, the later of whom had been one of my Barnes L54 flatmates and was now one of Hayward’s Barnes L54 flat mates.
Hayward Burt in Barnes L54, sitting in “my” favourite place
We discussed the logistics of getting the whole of Union Committee from Keele to Somerset. I think, from memory, the plan involved Chris visiting his family in Devon that weekend in the Union minibus, dropping us Union Committee folk at the Burt farm in Somerset and then collecting us again on the way back to Keele.
The happening was arranged for the first weekend of 1985.
Before I describe the singularly mortifyingly embarrassing episode from this adventure, I should say that, on the whole, I remember the event as being a success. We had, as a group, been through quite an ordeal with the Bar Management Saga, which had just reached its Tribunal conclusion just a few days ahead of this “Union Committee field trip”. The idea of team building and resetting for the remaining two terms of our three term tenure was a good idea that mostly worked.
Friday, 4 January 1985 – Left London early and came to Keele. All went off to Somerset in the afternoon – went to pub in evening.
Saturday, 5 January 1985 – Lazyish day in Taunton – walked in afternoon – went to pubs in evening etc.
Sunday, 6 January 1985 – Went out to farm for lunch, then came back to Keele early evening – had drink in Union.
My diary is very light on detail, so it is just as well some aspects have stuck indelibly in my memory. No idea where we did our pub drinking, but the picture below, dated 1985 by the author, is quite possibly one of the pubs we tried. In any case, The Greyhound Inn is great eye candy and a pleasant diversion ahead of the tale of my embarrassment.
Whose idea was it to have an informal sort-of confessions game one evening as part of that Union Committee team-building exercise? I’d love to “blame” anyone and everyone on the committee but me. Unfortunately, it was my type of idea. I am pretty sure that I suggested it, or at least warmly welcomed the idea when someone else suggested it while we were planning the event.
One of the reasons I was keen to play such a game was my increasing unease at the fact that only a small sub-group on the committee (basically the other sabbaticals) knew that I had started going out with Petra Wilson the previous term.
It wasn’t that I had deliberately kept the matter secret, it was simply one of those things that emerged by stealth and which I had only, until then, disclosed to those with whom I was spending more time; in the case of the committee I think just the sabbaticals. Annalisa also knew by then.
Anyway, point is, I thought the confessions game, one evening in the pub, would be an ideal opportunity to let the others know…
…which it would have been…
…but for the unfortunate seating arrangement, with Ali Dabbs directly to my right and therefore having his go at the confessions game just before mine.
Ali Dabbs confessed to having a crush on Petra. Ali probably didn’t speak for all that long – I think we were all aiming for “just a minute” or 90 second vignettes – but I was mortified with embarrassment and Ali’s speech seemed to be going on for ever.
I didn’t want to catch the eyes of any of the other sabbaticals, who all will have been acutely aware of what was unfolding – not least because I had told them of my plan to use this game as my opportunity to let the rest of the gang know that I was going out with Petra.
[Life must be so much easier these days, where all you need to do is change your social media relationship status and wait for people you know to spot it. On second thoughts, social media relationship status might raise more potential problems and questions than it answers. I digress.]
Worse yet, it dawned on me very quickly that I couldn’t possibly use the confession that I had planned to use. It would have been cruel, albeit truthful.
The whole episode just felt like a kick in the eye for both me and Ali Dabbs. Coincidentally, I was listening to the Bauhaus track of that name quite a lot at that time:
I’m not good at constructing an oral argument without carefully planning what I am going to say. That’s one of the reasons why I like to write rather than make speeches. I’m also not good at lying, nor am I good at bluffing.
In those few seconds that I had to decide what I was going to say, I decided…
…that I couldn’t think of anything at all. My mind was a complete blank, apart from the acute sensation of embarrassment.
In the end, I pathetically aped Ali’s speech and pretended that I had a crush on someone else. I think I picked on one of Petra’s friends, Margaret Gordon, for no better reason than I couldn’t really think of anyone to pick on and her name seemed to have a “least harm” aspect to it if…or I should really say when…the sorry matter needed to be unpicked…within a few weeks. I have a diary mention of Ali Dabbs coming round to my flat on 2 February, which was part of that unpicking.
“I have…I mean, I DON’T have an announcement to make”. Hayward, Trish, Me, Kate (Susan), Ali, Pete.
For some strange reason, I have been utterly averse to confession-type games ever since.
My embarrassing episode, while top of the pile, was not the only embarrassing thing I remember from that “field trip”. I remember Hayward’s dad, who, in my mind’s eye, I’m sure unfairly, resembled The Farmer from Shaun The Sheep movies, referring to Chris Spencer, our Barnes L54 flatmate, as…
…that old bloke you’ve hired to drive your van.
Chris did have a moustache, which possibly made him look a bit more grown up than the rest of us, but I don’t think he looked old. Hayward more or less managed to maintain his trademark deadpan delivery when saying:
That’s not an old bloke, dad, that’s Chris, my flatmate.
Small beer embarrassment compared with mine, but still.
You want to know more than the headline reveals? Bless you.
Sunday 8 July 1984 – Rose late – Kate came over for lunch (curry) looked into PS&D [Policy Staffing & Development Committee – the main sub-committee of Senate, the latter mostly rubber-stamping recommendations from PS&D] stuff – watched tennis & video. Truda [Smith] came over later – went to union after.
I hope Kate (now Susan) Fricker remembers the magnificence of that curry. In those days, my curry recipe tended to be either mince or chicken, with lots of onion, tomato puree and (luxury item) sultanas. Usually the curry would be based on garam masala or madras spices, with a sauce base of chicken stock. I would sometimes add bhindi (okra) – if I could get hold of them. Patna rice, almost certainly – the budget didn’t stretch to basmati on student grant money. Basic, but tasty.
The tennis on the TV would have been a very short final between John McEnroe and Jimmy Connors. We might also have watched John Lloyd and Wendy Turnbull win the mixed doubles, while preparing for our first major University Committee meeting; PS&D.
I have no recollection of ever having a video machine in the flat – someone must have left it with me for safe-keeping over the summer and I don’t suppose I used it very much.
Kate (Susan) Fricker with Truda Smith in 1985 – thanks Mark Ellicott
Monday, 9 July 1984 – Busyish day – Hayward [Burt] et. al. came to VC’s garden party in early eve – all went back to John’s [White – presumably still in his Barnes flat at that time] and on to union after.
Tuesday, 10 July 1984 – Busy day – meetings [not least that PS&D, presumably] etc – went to union committee afternoon etc. John and Hayward came back for curry ->to Betley boozing.
Wednesday, 11 July 1984 – Busy day at work – worked late – went NSP [North Staffs Poly – presumably to meet their union committee sabbaticals] for lunch. Played tennis with Kate -> McDonald’s – worked late – stayed in bar.
John White recalls us all going out to Betley in someone’s car [Hayward perhaps?] for a booze after dinner. But did we go to the Hand And Trumpet or The Swan Inn? My diary is silent on this and, sadly, John took a sabbatical from diary writing as well as a Union sabbatical that year.
I don’t remember ever playing tennis with Kate, but the diary says that we did, so we did. It almost certainly won’t have been the sort of exhilarating, nail-biting experience I was used to with Alan (Great Yorkshire Pudding) Gorman and I was certainly not yet experienced enough to deploy handicapping to enhance the excitement of a tennis game.
Thursday, 12 July 1984 – Horrid day – [name redacted] theft case took most of the day. Went to Kate’s for dinner – very pleasant evening – late night.
John White remembers that horrid day well, although his angle on it was somewhat different. John heard a kerfuffle by the pigeon-holes and went out to interrupt a ferocious argument between two students, one of whom had caught the other student red-handed stealing his incoming mail from the pigeon-holes. I ended up spending much of the day providing pastoral care, initially to the victim (who was easily placated once the police had been called) and then to both the culprit and the police. Suffice it to say that the culprit’s room was chock-full of evidence that the pigeon-hole incident that had been interrupted was far from a one-off.
I only had a handful of those very difficult and emotionally draining cases during my year – that one was an early baptism of fire.
I didn’t run away to London as a result of that trauma – the week off in Streatham with my family had been planned, although the sad event that occurred while I was with my family was not part of the plan.
We Interrupt This Sabbatical For A Ten Day Break In London
Friday 13 July 1984 – Fairly busy day at office – finished early to travel to London with John – long haul due to strike. Got back late.
Saturday 14 July 1984 – Lazy day – shopped in Streatham – spoke to people – taped etc. Stayed in evening.
Sunday, 15 July 1984 – Lazyish day – went for Indian lunch – went on to visit Grandma Jenny and Uncle Louis. Stayed in evening.
Grandma Jenny, Grandpa Lew & Uncle Louis, late 1930s
Grandma Jenny was my step-grandmother, although you would never have known the “step” element from the amount of care, love and attention I received from her and her (Barst) family. My Grandpa Lew died before I was born. Uncle Louis was Jenny’s brother, my step-great-uncle. Louis was widowed in the early 1980s, soon after which he and Jenny, who were great pals, decided to live out their days together in a flat in Surbiton. Uncle Louis was a really lovely man; I’d be surprised if anyone had a bad word to say about him.
Grandma Jenny, mid 1980s, in the Dolphin Close, Surbiton flat
Monday 16 July 1984 – Lazyish day – Shopped in Streatham etc – met Jimmy {Bateman] for drinks in evening.
Tuesday 17 July 1984 – Went to town late morning – went Annalisa’s [de Mercur] (met her from hospital) [If I recall correctly, Uncle Louis was taken ill and hospitalised just a day or so after our “regular” visit that weekend]. Met Simon [Jacobs] after in afternoon – went home. Stayed in evening.
Wednesday, 18 July 1984 – Lazyish day – did some taping – read etc. – went to Brixton in afternoon – stayed in evening.
Thursday, 19 July 1984 -Heard Uncle Louis died this morning – met Caroline for lunch as arranged, then -> Grandma Jenny for afternoon – met Jilly [Black] for Chinese meal etc. in evening.
Friday, 20 July 1984 – Went to shop with dad – wrote up books – went to funeral – went back with Grandma Jenny afterwards – went home for dinner –> Pam & Michael’s [Harris] in the evening.
Saturday 21 July 1984 -Paul [Deacon] came over in afternoon for a while – had dinner then went over to Andrea’s [Dean] for evening – stayed up late – stopped over [at Bushy House].
Sunday 22 July 1984 – Went back to Streatham quite early – had Italian lunch, then photo sesh, then returned to Keele – went union in evening for drink.
I had been racking my brains to try to work out what “photo sesh” might mean. I wasn’t aware of any pictures of that vintage in mum and dad’s collection. But then, by 1984, dad had become positively reckless in the matter of labelling pictures and/or keeping negatives with prints. A photographer/photographic dealer for pity’s sake. Talk about cobblers’ children.
Anyway, a trawl of the muddle that is the post 1980 photo estate, forty years on, has, unfortunately for the viewer, uncovered this:
I am surely sporting the very finest mid 1980s sportwear that a limited budget could buy in the sales in Streatham High Street back then.
If any readers/viewers have been troubled by this disturbing image, please contact the Ogblog Action Line, where trained trauma counsellors are standing by.
Moving Swiftly On: Back At Keele Sorting Out The Students’ Union – Last Week Of July 1984
Monday 23 July 1984 – Busy day in office – getting backlog of work done – etc. Work till fairly late and went for a drink after work.
Tuesday 24 July 1984 – Busy day today – working on filing system, etc. Annalisa came up – cooked her a meal etc.
Wednesday 25 July 1984 – Very busy day – worked till very late – Annalisa stayed and helped – Kate worked late too.
Annalisa was a great help as well as a very good friend, not only in those early days of the sabbatical but throughout my sabbatical year
Thursday, 26 July 1984 – Still busy with stuff. Annalisa finished her bit and left. Frank [Dillon] and Kate came over for dinner and much booze.
Friday, 27 July 1984 – Extremely busy day today – sorting stuff out for tomorrow etc. Shopped. Worked till late. Stayed up till very late.
Saturday 28 July 1984 – Union committee meeting this morning – dragged on – stayed in office tied up etc – union evening – disco.
That will have been the first time that John White and I DJ’d the Keele SU disco. It was far from the last time. I don’t suppose our efforts were masterful that first time, but they won’t have been bad and there would have been a fair smattering of Motown/Northern Soul involved. More on that topic anon.
Sunday 29 July 1984 – Spent most of the day cooking and lazing around – John, Pady [Jalali] and Kate came over dinner.
Monday, 30 July 1984 – Very rushed today – lots of customers – stayed in office till late and finished files.
Tuesday, 31 July 1984 – Busy day out – Civic offices and union solicitors in the morning. Union committee in afternoon – went Union in evening.
“Went Union in evening” sounds like a busman’s holiday for those of us working there, but we didn’t get out much (other than the Union) that year.
The mention of the visit to solicitors foreshadows the “elephant in the room” from these July diaries, unmentioned but soon to come to a head: the massive problems we inherited from our predecessors regarding the management of, and stock losses from, the several Union bars. The next episode will explain.
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.
Answer: They all strangely find their way into one week of my diary.
Quite a week, that first full week of March 1984. Once the decision was made that I’d run for Education & Welfare, the campaign went into overdrive. What could possibly go wrong?
Sunday 4 March 1984
Rose quite early – worked a little – spent afternoon in dark room with Annalisa [de Mercur] etc. Popped over to Bobbie’s in eve.
Monday, 5 March 1984
Busy working on manifesto today – got quite a bit done – constitutional committee in the evening – went over to Bobbies after.
Tuesday, 6 March 1984
Not feeling very well today – worked on manifesto today – almost done – went over to Bobbie’s – really felt ghastly!
Wednesday, 7 March 1984
Worked on manifesto today – covered in German Measles. today. Took it fairly easy.
The reason the manifesto was such a time consuming matter was a decision, taken jointly with my campaign manager, Malcolm Cornelius, to produce both the manifesto and leaflet (known as a supplementary manifesto) using digital technology. I wrote this up several years ago in the following piece, click here or the image link below:
Word processing on a University mainframe in 1984 was a non-trivial matter, believe me. Malcolm, who was pretty geeky back then and possibly remains so, could probably explain in excruciating detail what we had to go through to get that job done. Ask him. Go on, ask him.
I merely remember a lot of trial and error and also remember not feeling at all well throughout the process, probably because I had Rubella, commonly known as German Measles.
Younger readers, please do not berate my parents for failing to have me vaccinated – our generation didn’t have a vaccination for Rubella. What was supposed to happen was that you had the disease as a child and then never got it again because the instance of having the disease effectively vaccinated you. Some of us were careless enough to avoid the disease until the fourth year at University – or even longer in some cases – then get it at an inconvenient time…which for me this unquestionably was.
It would have been so much worse had the Rubella presented before the photo shoot. Any spots you might detect on the images from the shoot are either dust or my regular spots and blotches, which were quite numerous when I was in my very early twenties.Please let us not discuss THAT tie.
Thursday, 8 March 1984
Still not very well – spots disappearing – busyish, but took it fairly easy. Finished manifesto etc. Bobbie came over later.
Friday, 9 March 1984
Feeling a bit better today – Bobbie went away – manifesto’s in and supp’s out.– Social Sec election & big appeal over VP internal.
Saturday 10 March still quite tired – has an easy day today – went to Andrea’s party in eve – on to union briefly.
Right, so not only did Bobbie abandon me to run that election…the one I had hoped she’d be running for…but she went away for the weekend ahead of my campaign proper starting. In retrospect I don’t blame her at all, but I do remember feeling a bit miffed at the time.
Although I was a candidate for the following week’s election, I was still Chair of Election Appeals for that week’s election. I sense that the Social Secretary election went smoothly…
Here’s me with Pady Jalali, who won that election. Image Summer 1985 with thanks to Mark Ellicott
…whereas the VP Internal election had some element of hoo-ha attached to it, probably long-since forgotten by all concerned. Hayward Burt won that election and it is just possible that he remembers the hoo-ha.
Me and Hayward in the summer of 1985 – thanks Mark Ellicott for the picture
Ironically, the challenge probably came from the Tories, as Hayward was, in those days, one of the “Liberals with infeasibly strange names”. Hayward now can be found through more Conservative channels. I wonder whether he remembers what the shenanigans were on this occasion. I’ll send this piece to him and ask him.
Update: Hayward Replies…
Thanks for the heads up and the photo (I used to be thin! who knew?)
The controversy rings no bells at all, the result was v close between me and the Labour Club chap and I remember being absolutely knacked with all the door knocking.
“Andrea’s party” on the Saturday will have been Andrea Collins’ (now Woodhouse’s) party. Strangely, a Facebook birthday reminder for Andrea popped up on my FB tab while I was in the process of producing this piece.
Malcolm might have been unusually geeky back then but in many ways we are all geeks now, forty years on.
I’ll send Andrea a “Happy Birthday” message by dint of a link to this piece – Happy Birthday Andrea!
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.
