Tag: John Kessler

Several (Seven) Seasonal Events, December 2024

Family gathering at Buenasado in Bristol, 7 December 2024

Gosh it was a busy December of gatherings again this year. Also busy work-wise. Indeed Janie took the following picture early in the month, which should remind me of December 2024 just as much as the gatherings memoirs.

Looks like I’m concentrating on some serious shit

Family Gathering In Bristol, 7-8 December 2024

Janie and I took an Airbnb quite near to Hil and Chris’s place. We also visited them at home before the big bash at Buenasado, which was even closer to our Airbnb so we walked to the restaurant. The headline picture tells the main tale.

Tired after a hard week, a long drive and a steak supper? Moi??

Tennis Committee & Club Night At Lord’s, 11 December 2024

My first go at a committee meeting for real tennis, followed by Club Night, which Andrew Hinds kindly curated until I was able to escape the pavilion and trek across the way to the court. It was a fun evening. By the end of the evening, I had probably played a bit more than I should, but that’s Club Night for you.

No photos from that evening but my technique probably still looks like my 2016 shod.

Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Dinner At Spaghetti House Goodge Street, During Which I Won The Hodd, 12 December 2024

What a bunch of quizzical clowns: Keith, Graham, Barry, John, Hugh, Mark & Sue

The Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Dinner is traditionally, at this time of year, a gathering of the NewsRevue alumni clan with lots of quizzes. We have played for the Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Trophy for a great many years, but recently we also play for the Mike Hodd Trophy, as NewsRevue founder and mentor Mike Hodd also shed this mortal coil a few years ago.

Barry Grossman is probably our most consistent quiz winner, who once again won the Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Trophy, less confounded by Sue’s quiz than the rest of us.

Look how much it means to him…

I was delighted and astounded in equal measure to win “The Hodd” this year, based on John Random’s eminently suitable (for me) spoof police interrogation quiz questions based on song lyrics. I believe that makes me the third holder of The Mike Hodd Memorial Trophy:

  • 2022: Hugh Ryecroft
  • 2023: John Random
  • 2024: Me.
…and look how much it means to me.

As with the Ivan Shakespeare Memorial Trophy, it is not possible to win twice in a row, as tradition insists that the winner sets the quiz the following year. I need to put my thinking cap on now to design that 2025 quiz.

For the second year in a row, I road-tested the Z/Yen seasonal quiz on the NewsRevue crowd, with predictably hilarious results.

Hugh Ryecroft, who knows a thing or two about quizzes in a professional capacity, was very complimentary about the quiz while being suitably puzzled by it.

If any reader fancies having a go at the 2024 Z/Yen seasonal quiz, then by all means use the pdf linked here (or the image below). If you e-mail your answers to me – e.g. through the Contact Us link, and if you leave your contact details, I’ll mark your homework and send it back to you.

Z/Yen Seasonal Event At Watermen’s Hall, 13 December 2024

I’ve got no photos from the event, so an image of my quiz will have to do. And an image of the song.

I have also written up the event for Now & Z/Yen – click here. As always, it was a good fun afternoon which rendered the rest of the day a write-off.

Angela & John’s Golden Wedding Anniversary, Their Place, 15 December 2024

Fifty years on

We had a most enjoyable afternoon at cousin Angela & John Kessler’s place, to help them celebrate their golden wedding anniversary. I wasn’t at the wedding itself 50 years ago, which was a very grown-up affair at the Dorchester, but I did attend the pre-nuptial aufruf…

End Term At Alleyn’s, A Big Moka & An Aufruf, 8 to 14 December 1974

…which, Angela and John reminded me, was at Stanmore shule and then at John’s mother’s place. I did experience the aftermath of Angela and John’s wedding vicariously, by experiencing a very grumpy mum and hungover dad the morning after the wedding, ahead of my own “Marathon-Man-like-trauma” that day:

After Alleyn’s Advent Term: Comic Capers, Jolly Japes, Marathon Mania, Tempos & Timpos, 15 to 21 December 1974

Anyway, fifty years later, I am apparently grown-up enough to attend an anniversary gathering. I can faithfully report that I did not try to fool anyone with joke shop sweets, nor did I set off any “stinkeroos”, during the 50th anniversary party. Proof positive, if proof were needed, that I have grown up a bit in the last 50 years.

Our table.

Our table comprised an eclectic mix of interesting people, including, to my left, two branches of the Aarons family, cousins of Angela’s from the other side of her family, who used to live in Woodfield Avenue across the road from us. It was lovely to catch up with them. To my right, friends of Angela & John’s whom they had known for many years, all of whom were very friendly and interesting folk.

Youngsters table, with Ed, Vivian, Andrew and the kids

It was a very enjoyable afternoon. Not only was it a lively and friendly gathering, with refreshingly short yet moving speeches, but the catering was seriously good too, thanks to Adam and his catering team (see below).

Adam leading his team by example

In my December 1974 diary, when “reviewing” the grub after the aufruf, I wrote:

Meal was excellent

A heck of a lot has changed in 50 years, but the phrase works just as well for the anniversary meal at John and Angela’s place.

Cousin Bethany & Jesse Pop In From Australia For Dinner At The Marquis Cornwallis, 18 December 2024

Bethany, Jesse & Me in The Marquis Cornwallis

On the other side of the family and from the other side of the world, a message, seemingly from a young woman, through Facebook, about a week ahead of the visit:

Hi! My dad tells me we are related. Dad said you might be able to tell me the family tree connection.

My first thought was that this must be one of those scams, quite possibly written by an old Nigerian man with a fake young female identity. But the face did look a tad familial and a quick check on Facebook traced Bethany to be Frederick Krasey’s daughter and Debbi Krasey’s niece.

As luck would have it, I was free on the one evening that made sense for Bethany and husband Jesse before they whizz off around Europe for many weeks.

They were staying in Bloomsbury, very close to where Fred stayed when I met him on his visit 10+ years ago.

Short notice for the Wednesday before Christmas is not ideal timing ahead of booking a decent place, but The Marquis Cornwallis, which I know of old from hanging around that part of town, is a good cross between gastro pub and good honest pub grub. It was the first place I tried and they took my booking.

It’s always a little strange meeting such relatives for the first time. In cousinhood terms, Bethany is my second cousin once removed, which sounds very far removed, but it puts her into exactly the same category as people like Mark & Hilary Briegal and/or Adam & Michael Green, whom I have known pretty well for sixty years.

Adam, Mark, Hilary (torturing Mark), Michael (laughing) & me (perplexed). 1964

Different generational/age shift on the Krasey side, obvs.

Anyway, it was a super evening with Bethany and Jesse, except for one mysterious absence. You see, Bethany has started a blog for their travels, which I joined once I knew I was to meet them in London:

Saying goodbye to our home of 7 years, as we head off for 4 months of travel!

In that blog piece, Bethany introduces their travelling companion, Yoshi.

Naturally, ahead of booking The Marquis, I asked whether Yoshi would be joining us for dinner and Bethany said:

Jesse wouldn’t go anywhere without Yoshi! And so, Yoshi will indeed be joining us on our night about town. 

So where was Yoshi that evening? Bethany and Jesse were strangely silent on the topic and I was too timid to ask. But on reflection, I think this is a mystery that simply must be solved. Otherwise we might have to get Interpol involved.

But apart from the unexplained absence of Yoshi, we had a very pleasant evening and hopefully will be able to see each other again, when the Roaming Duo return to Blighty in March.

Dedanists’ Society Seasonal Lunch At Lemonia, 19 December 2024

Despite the fact that I was to a large extent “seasonal-evented-out” by the time this event came around…and despite the fact that I am not really the “long-wet-lunch” type, there is something so very heart-warming and enjoyable about the Dedanists’ Society annual lunch, that I cannot now resist putting my name down for it as a seasonal must.

It is a gathering of the real tennis enthusiasts clan – about 35 of us gathered this year in that private room at Lemonia that works so very well for this event.

I noticed Jonathan Ellis-Miller taking a gazillion photographs this year, and I am sure that photograph taking is quite a regular thing. Yet the Dedanists’ Society website is utterly devoid of pictures from Lemonia lunches passim.

I briefed DeepAI as politely as I possibly could and it mustered the following image which, I must say, is not a bad attempt based on a dozen or so words:

DeepAI imagines a gathering of Dedanists in a Greek Restaurant

If Jonathan Ellis-Miller would care to provide a genuine photo, I can add a real photo of real tennis enthusiasts. But in any case I genuinely had a great time and sense that most if not all attendees did similarly.

A Concert With Cousins Angela & John, London Philharmonic Orchestra, Royal Festival Hall, 28 March 2012

Angela & John “a few” years ago – Michael & Pam would approve the photo choice

This concert was the evening before Uncle Michael’s funeral, for which I was scheduled to be the soloist – i.e. eulogist.

Angela and John are patrons of the London Philharmonic Orchestra (LPO). They suggested that I might join them for this concert. An element of bonding exercise and an element (I suspect) of last minute stage management. John had stuck his neck out a little with his Rabbi by suggesting that a member of the family undertake the eulogy and they didn’t want any mistakes.

We discussed matters over drinks and nibbles with the patrons and benefactors before the show.

“Rabbi Rosenfeld is absolutely clear that you should keep the eulogy brief”, said John – who is a graduate of the Arsène Wenger school of management.

“I got the message – I’ve timed the speech; eighty-nine minutes…”

“…EIGHT OR NINE MINUTES…if it goes past ten minutes I’ll shut you up myself…”

…I think John knew I was joking.

Meanwhile, unlike our family funeral, the concert was not going to proceed as planned. The Canadian conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin had gone down with “severe gastric flu” (as described in the apologetic programme note).

So we had a late substitute from one of the other dominions, Australia, in the form of Matthew Coorey.

The result was a game of two halves in some ways.

Supersub Coorey was spared the first half of of the concert, as Georgian violinist Lisa Batiashvili, wisely, chose to lead the orchestra herself in the Mozart Violin Concerto No 3.

I say the first half…of course the Mozart is quite a short work whereas the second half, Mahler Symphony No 9, is a 90 minute marathon. So it was more like an 80:20 thing than a game of two halves…

…I’m digressing. Point is, the first piece I suspect included all the nuance and personality that had been planned for this concert. I have an affection for that simple but charming piece and it was delivered very well that night.

By contrast, the Mahler seemed, while very professionally performed, a somewhat retreated, standard performance of the great work. Hats off to Coorey for taking on such a monumental work at such short notice. But “letting the orchestra just do its thing” is probably as good as it gets in those circumstances.

Here is a short video of Lisa Batiashvili playing at home, Tbilisi. I couldn’t find a legitimate vid of her playing Mozart so I thought this gorgeous piece of Bach would do nicely.

While here is a short vid of Matthew Coorey conducting. It isn’t Mahler…instead it is Kodaly, so there is still rather a lot of early 20th century noise and some unusual percussion – it was the closest I could find:

Auntie Francis Death And Funeral, 31 January 2001 et. seq.

Janie and I were running around like nuts working that week, ahead of our trip to Cambodia, Laos and Thailand.

Janie’s diary notes a brief visit to Auntie Francis in the St John & St Elizabeth Hospital a few days before she died. I think Janie made that visit solo, as I do not recall it.

My diary page for the relevant week is missing. I think I took it out of the Filofax on the funeral day with the relevant details scribbled on it and never returned the page to the diary. Very rare error from me, that.

But for sure I went to that funeral, as I recall it for three particular things that are ingrained in my meomory.

The first of those things was the rejigging that I had to do in order to attend. I had an important meeting scheduled with a difficult client, which I needed to reschedule quite late in the day in order to attend the funeral and visit the client. I got the logistics of that right, just about, and received sympathy and gratitude from the client at my obvious efforts to fit everything in, rather than the annoyance I half expected from them at the resulting need for a late in the day meeting.

The second of my memories relates to the minutes before…and just after…the start of the funeral. I got to Cheshunt with a good 20-30 minutes to spare. I mean, you don’t get to funerals late, do you?

But there were no signs of Mum, Dad, Michael and Pam as the funeral hour approached. The funeral started. Still no sign of them.

I was a little worried that something might have happened to them. Only a little worried, because I remembered mum telling me that they would be coming as a family pack, via Pam & Michael’s place.

About 10 minutes into the funeral, all four of them sneaked in at the back. Mum had a mixture of embarrassed face and angry face. There ought to be an emoji for such a face. Dad had flustered face. Michael and Pam looked…like Michael and Pam.

Pam and Michael, seemingly unbothered, August 1975

Precise timings isn’t really what Pam’s about.

The other thing I so clearly remember about that funeral is the “stock eulogy” that the Rabbi delivered in honour of Auntie Francis. After the standard facts list of dates (birth, marriage, my cousin Angela’s birth)…the Rabbi eulogised about the kind, gentle, warm-hearted mother that stock eulogies are all about.

I cannot have been the only person in the funeral hall who was thinking, “this doesn’t sound like Auntie Francis”, who was, bless her, a tough old bird, for whom the phrase, “on the lung, on the tongue” might have been written. She was one of only two or three people I ever met who induced fear in my mother.

At one point, Angela was struggling to keep a straight face during the eulogy, which made it even harder for me (and probably several others) to maintain our composure as well.

I resolved there and then to ensure that, in any situation where I had some influence over the funeral proceedings, that stock eulogies delivered by someone who didn’t know the deceased would be off the menu.

Writing 25 years later, I have only recently delivered what I think might be the most challenging eulogy I’ll ever have to make – eulogising Auntie Francis (who had endearing as well as challenging qualities) would be have been a doddle compared with the perils of Pauline:

My Eulogy To Pauline Wormleighton (1 July 1929 to 16 April 2025), Delivered 16 May 2025

On the Friday – 2 February, Janie and I had dinner with Kim & Micky at Monty’s Nepalese Restaurant in Ealing – thus spake Janie’s diary. My page is missing in action, remember?

My Bar Mitzvah: The Party At The Peacock Club, 10 August 1975

So to the party to celebrate my Bar Mitzvah, the day after

My Bar Mitzvah: The Actual Bar Mitzvah Itself, 9 August 1975

Actually, I wrote up the centre piece of the party – the limbo dancing – some five years ago (he says, writing now in December 2025) – click here or below:

My Very Brief Junior Career As A Limbo Dancer, The Peacock Club, 10 August 1975

But there was more to this party than just the limbo dancing. Oh yes.

There was a meal, for a start. A meal that is bound to have been baked salmon, although I really don’t remember the meal. But in a non-kosher venue with some observant people present, fish would have been the order of the day for sure. Then you could also have some creamy deserts and stuff like that.

Then speeches. The camera only caught the important ones – me as the star of the show and Andy Levinson as my warm up or warm down act, I cannot remember which way round we spoke.

I certainly win the award for the more skew-iffy tie.

There was also regular dancing for regular people, as well as limbo dancing.

Cousin Angela and John Kessler

Next door neighbours Rose & Bill Beech

Mum with Norman Levinson – Dr Edwina Green looks disapproving, perhaps because mum’s new hip was only three months old at the time

Mum had put enormous effort into rehab after her hip replacement in May, motivated by a desire to dance at my Bar Mitzvah party, which she sure did. My perspective on this has shifted in the past year, having been through the hip replacement and hard yards for rapid rehab myself in 2025.

Mum, Denise Lytton and Rose Beech, as Marjorie and Fiona Levinson look on. Don’t overdo it, mum and whatever you do, don’t fall over…

…and don’t try to emulate cousin Colin Jacobs.

Of course, these events are family affairs and most of the family was there:

Grandma Jenny & Me above, Me & Grandma Anne below

Pam & Michael front, Auntie Francis standing, flanked I think by Lieba and Sam Aarons…

Mum liked this picture.

You can see all of the photos from both days of the Bar Mitzvah weekend through this Flickr link, here or below:

_Bar Mitzvah 01 e

End Term At Alleyn’s, A Big Moka & An Aufruf, 8 to 14 December 1974

Angela & John Kessler, this photo just nine months after their wedding

The diary page for this week is as colourful as it is (almost) unintelligible:

It is my profound belief that, although artificial intelligence can read the charred remains of 2000-year-old Herculaneum scrolls, the technology would still struggle to make sense of my diabolical writing and spelling from 1974

Allow me to try to interpret the above scrawl for you:

Sunday, 8 December 1974 – First light in play [Hanukah play at chedar, presumably]. Dined at Schmidt’s. The Great War, Sykes, David Copperfield and A Change Of Ground.

Monday, 9 December 1974 – Last full day of term. Uneventful. TV Waltons, Call My Bluff, and Horizon v good indeed.

Tuesday 10 December 1974 – Christmas dinner v good. Classes rehearsal. Mission Impossible and Rhoda v good.

Wednesday, 11 December 1974 – Rather uneventful. Left school 2 o’clock, Carol rehearsal. Disappearing World – Ongka’s Big Moka Rather amusing?????

I don’t much review television programmes (probably just as well given the amount of TV I was watching back then), but a few years ago I wrote up my memories of Ongka’s Big Moka, because it had such a profound effect on me, sparking my interest in South-East Asia/Oceania.

Ongka’s Big Moka, Television Documentary, 11 December 1974

Thursday, 12 December 1974 – Left school 2:20 carol service. Classes good. TV Mastermind good.

Friday, 13 December 1974 – Broke up today. Not a very good report…

…hardly surprising given the amount of TV I was watching in the evenings when I should have been doing my homework. Honestly…

TV Dad’s Army, Ken Dodd and MASH v good.

Saturday, 14 December 1974 – Went to ooof roof [John & Angela’s aufruf]. Meal was excellent. TV Run Wild Run Free film, Stanley Baxter, and Candid Camera very good indeed

I didn’t at the time spot the juxtaposition of watching the Melanesian tribal ceremony, Ongka’s Big Moka, and, a few days later, attending the Jewish tribal ceremony that was Angela and John’s aufruf. For those who don’t like to click, the aufruf is a tradition of calling up the groom in synagogue on the Saturday before the wedding.

I am glad that I gave that aufruf meal an “excellent” review 50 years ago, as that should please Angela and John ahead of their impending golden wedding anniversary. I do remember enjoying the aufruf event very much, conversing with the grown ups and feeling a little more grown up myself for the experience. I distinctly remember finding the film Run Wild Run Free rather childish and mawkish, perhaps in comparison.

What might seem a lot less grown up…and might please Angela and John a bit less, is my abiding memory that I insisted, in the build up to the day, on pronouncing the word “aufruf”…

woof-woof

…to the extent that I recall mum telling me, wagging finger style, that I was not to make that silly joke at the event.

I’m the curator of my own jokes now, mum