Dinner With John White At The Chancery, Preceded By A Drink In The Cittie Of York, 26 November 2007

This evening did what it said on the tin, I should imagine. It was my turn to pay and John I think felt at that stage of the season that we both needed to be fairly close to work and to routes home – hence the location choice.

I reported it very briefly in e-mail form afterwards as:

great to see you last night

While John’s report back included a caveat…

Lovely evening on Monday but sadly I had to catch a bus from Bishops Stortford due to engineering works. Commuter troubles. A late night in the end. Must learn for next time.

Ouch.

Both venues are still there at the time of writing (January 2019) I think:

Trip Advisor on Cittie of York

Trip Advisor on the Chancery

But I don’t recall The Chancery looking like that – have they changed the frontage or even moved since our visit.

Perhaps John knows and/or remembers what we ate.

Middlesex v Essex T20, Ravaged By Ravi, A 2007 MTWD “Lost Masterpiece”, 6 July 2007

By 2007 I was one of the small band of Middlesex Till We Die (MTWD) website editors and moderators. I especially liked the editorial side of things and enjoyed writing slightly left-field match reports.

In theory, every editorial piece ever written on MTWD remains live on the site, if you can be bothered to trawl the archive and/or know which key words to Google.  Except that, tragically, a swathe of 2007 match reports was lost in a Sportnetwork incident that was never properly explained.   I refer to those pieces as “the lost masterpieces”.  In truth, at least one of those 2007 reports is a fine piece of juvenilia by a then student, now award-winning journalist.

Except, of course, that my own scribblings never die, they simply get backed up in infeasibly strange places – such as the archive pit of my main computer.  (Indeed several other pieces, including the above mentioned juvenilia, have been preserved in their final but unpublished format).

So I am able to revive my report of the wonderful evening Janie and I (naturally in the guise of Daisy and Ged) spent with some close friends, also appearing under assumed names.

In scorecard terms, this is the match we saw that evening – click here.

As I cannot link to MTWD for this lost masterpiece, here it is restored/reproduced verbatim below.  Some connoisseurs of the “Vaughanian third person” will appreciate several references to myself as “Ged”.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Ravaged by Ravi, Bopped By Bopara

  

Ged Ladd reports on the Twenty20 betwixt Middlesex and Essex at Lord’s.  Daisy was there, so it had to be a final over nail-biter finish.  Meet Ged and Daisy’s friends from Essex, John-Boy and Maddja, plus their delightful daughters.  The match twisted, the match turned, the result was not what Ged and Daisy wanted, but it was a good match, it didn’t rain and a fun evening out was had by all.

 

In early

Daisy and I both quit work a little early to be sure of getting good seats for our whole entourage, which includes two small girls tonight.  Quitting work a little early was not as easy as it looked.  I was seeing a client in Whitehall, unaware of tube problems, the impending Tour de France (some navigational problems there, or have the Normans invaded us again?) and finally a “gas leak” leading to Notting Hill Gate being cordoned off.  Suffice it to say that I got home much later than expected and that I shall be doing an hour or more of work as well as writing this report at sparrowfart on Saturday!

 

Meet the family.  We’ll start with my very good friend from Essex, John-Boy, whom I have known since we started University at 18.  Then there’s his lovely wife, Maddja.  John-Boy and Maddja were childhood sweethearts on those Essex/Hertfordshire borders – a rare thing indeed for a relationship to survive while John-Boy was away at University for 5 years.  Especially hanging around with ne’er-do-wells like Ged.  Maddja’s mother’s family are of Eastern-European origin shrouded in history, mystery and stories that would make a fascinating mini-series for the BBC.  John-Boy and Maddja have two delightful daughters, Bela and Lugosi, now 11 and 8, who loved the Twenty20 at Southgate two years ago so much that they were still talking about it when we went to their house for dinner.  We simply had to set this evening up and so we did.

 

So, Daisy and Ged somehow manage to get to the ground by about 16:45 and have no difficulty securing seats right at the front of the Tavern Stand, where we think the little ones will have a good view.  John-Boy phones to explain that they are all stuck in various parts of East London and town, trying to get some form of public transport to get to the ground.  Ged estimates that they’ll arrive 45 minutes to an hour late.

 

A pathetic start

Middlesex then did their best to ensure that my good friends got to see no cricket at all.  Wickets fell at horribly regular intervals.  5/2.  31/5.  50/7.  If you want details, go see the scorecard.  It was clear that this was not an easy wicket on which to time your shots.  Daisy asked me at the start “what’s a decent Twenty20 score at Lord’s?” and I replied 160.  Soon after the start I suggested that 140 might be a decent enough score on that particular pitch.

 

With the score on 50/7 and Ged genuinely thinking that his friends might not even get to see any cricket, our mood was not great, despite the fact that we had started tucking in to the picnic (well, neither of us had had any lunch) and also some rather jolly pink wine to go with the Middlesex pink theme.

 

At 55/7 John-Boy phoned.  “We’re here.  The girls are in the loo but we’ll be with you in a jiffy.  What’s the score?”  “Middlesex are having a shocker,” I said, “55/7”.  “I don’t think I heard that right”, said John, “that sounded like seven”.  “Seven”.  “Blimey!”

 

Middlesex revive

So, our dear friends from Essex, John-Boy, Maddja, Bela and Lugosi arrive and at the same time Middlesex revive.  They are in very good spirits for people who have spent hours fighting their way across London and we all hunker down to our picnic and watch the show.

 

Murtagh and Keegan in particular show what can be done on this wicket once the batsman is in.  Both found it hard to time the ball at first, but once set the runs come quite easily and their bowlers find it hard.   Both of the Essex overseas bowlers, Bichel and Kaneria, go for plenty of runs.  A late flurry unperturbed by the risk of being all out gets Middlesex to 126.

 

We have a game on our hands.

 

John-Boy and Ged are reminded of the Southgate fixture 3 or 4 years ago, when Essex were rolled for not many.  Middlesex cruised to the total.  Would this one be a cruise or was 126 competitive?  Ged suspected “low end of competitive” and mused “Middlesex have bowled better than they have batted so far this season”.

 

Essex start slowly

Middlesex bowled well and Essex were no more able to use the first 6 overs than Middlesex.  They even took almost as many balls to reach 50 as Middlesex (over 60 balls in each case), but they kept wickets in hand and that proved to be vital.

 

Whilst Flower was blooming I kept saying to JohnBoy “if we get Flower now I think you’re in trouble”.  Then, once he had gone, the Ged mantra changed to “if we get Bopara now I think you’re in trouble” but that vital wicket never came.

 

Meanwhile Bela and Lugosi were on their best behaviour despite not being allowed to run all over the park during the interval and having been told in no uncertain terms that running around that particular park after the game was also prohibited at Lord’s.  However, Ged had a cunning plan for after the match, based on his trusty “run around the park tennis ball” and the Coronation Gardens.

 

Shrink that target

Maddja, who is an eminent psycho-therapist, was meanwhile busy telling Daisy about her latest therapeutic technique, a conversation so bizarre it is simply beyond parody.

 

And talking of shrinking, the target was getting lower and the score converging on that oh so helpful Duckworth-Lewis par score which gives you a very good idea who is on top and who isn’t, even when the skies are blue.

 

Rymps is not bowling well, and Ged muses that we have to find a couple of overs from somewhere (if not Rymps, who) and those overs will be targeted.

 

Murali Kartik meanwhile has bowled absolutely beautifully – Scotty is right back in the swing of things with “quick as a flash” stumpings.  Also off Kartik’s bowling Chad Keegan takes one of the best outfield catches you will ever see – he’s back in leaping salmon mode is Chad and let’s all hope he stays there.  And then, when Kartik comes back fro his final over, he also cleans up Ryan ten Doeschate and Ged realises that we might be back in the hunt if we can somehow hide those goat overs and/or somehow get rid of Ravi Bopara.

 

But it wasn’t to be.  With 11 needed off the last over, we had to prevent the boundaries and the one really poor ball Murtagh bowled at the death went for a heartbreaking six.  It was all over bar the shouting then.  JohnBoy and Ged had been trading clichés all evening.  (JohnBoy is a Leyton Orient man normally).  Ged described Chad’s catch as “worth the entry money alone” (as indeed was Murali Kartik’s spell).  With the six, it was “all over bar the shouting” and once it was really all over Ged was “gutted”.

 

Coronation Time

We get to the Coronation Garden to find a huge queue of kids.  Do you have to queue to throw a ball around the garden I mused, but soon realised that the queue was for autographs and a whole row of tables and chairs have been set up for the players to sign stuff for the kids.  I’d never seen this ritual before and was actually very impressed that the players spend so much time after the game doing that.  The queue looked almost endless.

 

JohnBoy, Lugosi and I start off with some catching practice while the others go off to the loo.  Then we all play a “piggy-in-the-middle”/”tag team” game which was great fun.  We rarely collide with the backs of the players who are too busy signing to care or even notice.

 

This is cricket for all the family as it is meant to be.  Of course I’m disappointed that we didn’t qualify – especially as we came so close in this match – and especially as the other results did go our way sufficiently that we would have qualified had we won.  But you can’t quibble with played 5 lost 3 didn’t qualify.  And you can’t quibble with the fact that we almost snatched victory from the jaws of defeat tonight and that some of our players were just excellent.  And you can’t quibble with that row of players from both sides, making the kids happy – they were still signing away once we had exhausted ourselves with our silly game and were trudging home into the night.

 

Dinner At John & Mandy’s Place In Cambridge Road Wanstead, 21 April 2007

Janie and I were trying to trawl the details of this evening from our memories.

I remember travelling to the house by tube, getting a little lost walking from the tube to the house and then travelling home by cab.

 

Image “borrowed” from an estate agent’s site. Right road, probably wrong house.

We both remember having a really good time.

We both remember that the girls were there and that they were now old enough to join us and participate in much of the evening.

Did we take a stroll around the neighbourhood that time or was that a different evening?

Janie remembers taking drinks in the garden.

Janie remembers dancing with the girls in the living room.

Janie remembers roasted vegetables with thyme and Balsamic vinegar.

Janie remembers conversation about Sartre, existentialism and that sort of thing.

We both wonder whether all of Janie’s memories of this particular evening relate to this particular evening or whether several evenings have merged into one collection of memories.

I am 99% sure this was our last visit to John and Mandy in London – i.e. it was Saffron Walden the next time we visited. But frankly I’m not much help on this one memory-wise.

“JOHN! MANDY! You’re better at this than we are. What did we eat? Are Janie’s memories impressively good or a mixture of different evenings?”

Whatever – we know we had a great time.

Dinner At Merkato With John White, 20 March 2007

Judging by the e-mail correspondence and crossings out in the diary, the arrangements for this one were a bit messy but it all came good in the end…

…appropriate for this form of cuisine, because…

we ate at Merkato, an Ethiopian institution in Kings Cross. Quite a messy business, Ethiopian-style dining, if you do it in an authentic stylee.

This was about a year after Janie and I visited Ethiopia, so I wanted John to experience Ethiopian-style eating and my description of it had sparked John’s curiosity to try it.

Me and our guide, Dawit, dining in Ethiopia, 2006, taken by Daisy

Trip Advisor speaks of Merkato thus – click here. Clearly still doing OK at the time of writing – April 2018.

John and I had a good evening at Merkato – certainly I remember it fondly. We were in part looking forward to and plotting a gathering of the four of us (including Janie and Mandy) for a few week’s hence at John and Mandy’s place.

Middlesex v Lancashire Day 3 at Lord’s 23 June 2006, Arabian Nights Party at Sandall Close 24 June 2006

Arabian Nights or Moroccan Den?

At the time of writing (January 2017) I was sent scurrying for my 2006 diary when King Cricket reported that Lancastrian cricketer Tom Smith had retired.

Like King Cricket, I first saw Tom Smith play in the summer of 2006, but in my case it was June and the weather was lovely.

My diary simply has a line through the Friday daytime and the word “Lord’s”. That means I went to Lord’s with me, myself and a heap of reading.

By the start of Day 3 (the Friday), the result of the match was barely in doubt; it was really only a question of whether Middlesex could salvage some pride and bat for a day on the road we call the Lord’s pitch.

Click here for the match scorecard.

I remember that day at Lord’s primarily for one silly thing, which, as it happens, did involve Tom Smith.

I chose to follow the sun (top up the tan for tomorrow’s party), so by the afternoon I had plonked myself in the front row of the Mound Stand, closer to the Edrich than the Tavern.

Scott Styris in particular was batting well; with some aggression as well as for survival. On one occasion Styris lofted the ball into vacant space, in my direction; a couple of bounces, then the ball bounced up and pretty much landed on my lap. To this day it is the only time I can recall the ball absolutely coming to me, personally, while watching a professional match.

I had on my lap at that juncture not only the book I was reading but also an apple I was about to munch by way of light lunch.

Tom Smith arrived to gather the ball. I considered throwing him the apple rather than the ball but momentarily thought better of it and simply threw him the ball. I then spent the rest of the afternoon regretting that I hadn’t played that practical joke on Tom Smith.

Smith looked very sharp as a pace bowler back then. I remember being very impressed with him, even though his figures for the day don’t look special. He looked “the lad most likely” that afternoon on a very flat track and I remember carrying high hopes for him as an England bowling prospect for a few years.

Saturday 24 June 2006

There is a line through Saturday which reads “party”, as it was the day of the famous “Arabian Nights/Moroccan Den” party at Daisy’s old maisonette in Sandall Close.

Tony (downstairs) let us use his garden as well as ours (in return for an invitation). Kim and DJ’s company, Theme Traders, themed the gardens up for the party (see picture above).

The weather was glorious for that one and the party really was a huge success. I struggled to take photographs on the night (enjoying myself too much and then couldn’t get the flash to flash) but perhaps some better pictures will emerge from friends.

I can just about make out Bobbie and John-Boy in the background. Tony in the foreground and a few members of the family.

There were quite a lot of people at the party; a few dozen anyway. I’m pretty sure I recall Bobbie, her Dave, Andrea and one or two others hanging around with us until very late indeed; it was one of those parties that people didn’t want to end.

I had just acquired my first iPod and I made up a good playlist for this party. I’ll dump the playlist in a file and attach it as an aside later.

Daisy (Janie) might well want to chip in with some memories of this party too.

“8.00 John & Mandy For Dinner + Lydia”, 25 September 1998

John, Mandy, Me & Janie in August 2022

While researching Janie’s and my historic visit to the Donmar Warehouse…

…the evening that Nicole Kidman and I had our magic moment ‘n’ all…

…I came across the above headlined diary entry the day before.

Delving into Janie’s diary for more clues, I discover that Janie “collected wild boar” on the Thursday when in town (that would have been from Harvey Nicholls in those days) after collecting red cabbage and marinade from Waitrose first thing.

Wild Boar at Chicos – JIP, CC BY-SA 3.0

Strangely, just the other day (25 years after the above wild boar evening), Janie and I were discussing our inability to get wild boar any more . [Insert here your own joke about me having progressed from wild boar to wild bore in the space of 25 years.]

Less strangely, we’re still very much in touch with John and Mandy 25 years later…

…and still in touch with Lydia, who has been giving me singing lessons since the pandemic and whose career as a singer/actress is now burgeoning, as she has just started a run for the RSC as Miss Honey in Matilda The Musical at the Cambridge Theatre.

From www.uk.matildathemusical.com

I think this wild boar dinner visit might have been the first time that Janie and I met Lydia.

In the coincidence department, the Cambridge Theatre (where Lydia now resides) is within spitting distance of The Donmar Warehouse in Earlham Street, where 25 years earlier, Nicole and I…

…I’m not boring you, am I?

“Complaint” Letter To John White At BACTA, 27 September 1994

I cannot remember the context of this spoof letter of complaint, other than the fact that John was working for BACTA – perhaps that was a new thing at that time. I can only assume that the Anchor House thing was some sort of a charity lottery.

Nearly 25 years later, John is once again working for BACTA and might find this letter “helpful”.

Any recollections from your end will be much appreciated, John.

One small additional point for any geeks who might still be reading – this was, I believe, the very last letter I ever wrote using WordPerfect.


                                                                                                                                                                                   Ian Harris
                                                                                                                                                              12 Clanricarde Gardens
                                                                                                                                                                      London W2 4NA
Tel: (071) 243-0725
Fax: (071) 229-2967
Internet: zyenilh@zyenharri.win-uk.net
Compuserve: 100434,1552
 


Mr John S White 27 September 1994
BACTA
Bacta House
Regents Wharf
6 All Saints Street
London
N1 9RQ
 
 
Dear Mr White
 
GAME FOR A CURSE

 
I wish to complain in the strongest possible terms. Last week I had the misfortune to enter a certain Anchor House, at which address I was induced by a resplendent banner to enter the aforementioned Game For A Curse competition. I was promised “thousands of cash prizes” for my not insignificant investment of 50p. Imagine my surprise and horror when I ascertained that my investment had been entirely lost. None of the promised cash prizes came my way (the offending card is enclosed for your perusal and comment).
 
I am not one of life’s losers, Mr White, and I assure you that the matter will not stop here. The gaming board shall hear of this, as shall the responsible Minister and/or the President of the Board of Trade.
 
Innocent citizens like myself should not be subjected to this humiliation and defeat. I very nearly won £1,000 (look at the card carefully) and therefore believe that the said prize should be mine by virtue of the error that you have clearly made with regard to the supply of a non-winning card.
 
Don’t try to get me under Schedule 1a of the Lotteries and Amusements Act 1976 or I shall see to it that you are done under the Pedants and Irascible Old Gits Act of 1962. Two can play at this game, Mr White, so watch it.
 
Yours sincerely
 
 
Ian Harris
 

Dinner At John & Mandy’s Place, 10 July 1993

The diaries are consistent on this – Saturday evening dinner at John & Mandy’s place (Dangan Road, Wanstead).

I think we went for a walk around the area before dinner on that occasion, as it was our first visit to that house and the days are long at that time of year. I remmeber doing that walk in the light.

We had a very good meal, although in truth I cannot describe exactly what we ate. I’m guessing that John cooked something with a southern asian theme, but not too hot and spicy because he knew that Janie doesn’t go for very spicy food.

I think it is fair to say that we probably drank some good wine too and I know that we did all enjoy the evening, as was our wont on those occasions when we four got together for meaks back then…and still, 26+ years later.

I wonder whether John remembers any details.

An Evening With Janie, John & Mandy; Death And The Maiden by Ariel Dorfman, Royal Court Theatre at the Duke of York’s Theatre, 17 October 1992

I believe this was the first time that either John or Mandy met Janie; Janie and I had only been going out together for a few weeks by then.

This was also only the second time that Janie and I went to the theatre together – the first time having been our first date; The Street of Crocodiles.

My diary is a bit of a confusion for that evening – indeed all that it reads is “Madness”…

…which I’m sure means “The Madness of George III”. But my theatre log is very clear that 17 October was this particular evening with John and Mandy and my diary also shows that “George III” reigned on 30 September for me:

What I think happened was that Bobbie, once again, could not make the planned theatre visit to see Madness of George III on 17 October, but was very keen to see that play. I vaguely recall Bobbie arranging a ticket swap with friends so that she/we could see “Madness” midweek a couple of weeks earlier and her friends got the prized Saturday night tickets that I had procured.

That freed up the evening of 17 October for Janie to meet John and Mandy and for all of us to see Death And The Maiden, which was still one of the hottest tickets in town that year, even though Juliet Stevenson (who had wowed audiences as the lead) had moved on.

Penny Downie played the lead in the cast we saw, which, as super subs go, is pretty darned super. Danny Webb and Hugh Ross played the male parts.

Janie and I are struggling to remember what other arrangements we made with John and Mandy around this evening. I think we might have had Chinese food in Soho with them before or after the theatre. Perhaps Mayflower? Or Joy King Lau in those days?

I also realise that my diaries at that time are littered with clues that John and Mandy must have recently moved house around that time:

Guessing that John and Mandy moved to Dangan Road that August, hence the address and phone number scrawled on 12 August…
…did I really escape the carnival 30 August to join John and Mandy in the George at Wanstead 30 August? Guessing that “birthday thing” 28 August would have been with my parents, but I’m not entirely sure about events of that weekend other than the 29 August hot date with Janie.

Anyway, on the day I am writing this up (29 August 2017), we shall be seeing John and Mandy later in the day, so I’ll pick their brains on these matters this evening and update this piece accordingly.

Back to Death And The Maiden.

The play is set in an unspecified nation emerging into democracy from brutal dictatorship. Ariel Dorfman was a Chilean exile during the Pinochet years and the brutal regime is clearly based on that one. It is one of those hugely affecting plays about torture and the abuse of power. It brings to mind also One For The Road by Harold Pinter and Fermin Cabal’s Tejas Verdes.

I’m sure we did something after the play – perhaps we did eat afterwards. For sure we’d have needed a drink. For sure we found a way to discuss and decompress together for a while.

I remember being very pleased that John, Mandy and Janie all seemed to get along so well; in that regard alone the evening was a tremendous success (to use John’s favourite adjective). But it was also an excellent evening of theatre and I’m sure we must have eaten and drunk well…if only Janie and I could remember those details too.

Postscript: A strange coda to this story. Both Janie’s and my diairy say “The Madras House” for this evening, not “Death And The Maiden”. But my log says Death And The Maiden and I have no recollection of going to the Lyric with John and Mandy to see The Madras House – Janie and I saw that play at The Orange Tree many years later. Did we make a late switch of play choice or have the memories and documentary records got into a terrible muddle? I think probably the former.

Eugène Terre’Blanche, NewsRevue Lyric Actually Used, 26 July 1992

I like to think of Ogblog as the fifth emergency service. So when John White texted me on 1 January 2017 to say that he had my old Eugène Terre’blanche/Sweet Gene Vincent song giving him earworm and could I please Ogblog it sharpish…no sooner the word than the deed – click here for that hurried rescue piece.

But in truth, I wanted to write more about this lyric and in any case that original version from February 1992 was pre-NewsRevue (from my point of view) and never professionally performed.

By the summer of 1992 I was writing quite regularly for NewsRevue and, fortuitously (for me and for NewsRevue, not for the people of South Africa), Terre’blanche was back in the news.

Stalwarts of the show that summer were Jonathan Linsley and his then girlfriend Paula Tappenden. Both had a go at both acting and directing the show; at that juncture, Paula was directing and Jonathan was acting. That was good fortune for this song, as Jonathan was able to personify the ghastly Eugène Terre’Blanche very well.

I recall some excellent business in the intro where they would take the line “I like to watch springboks rutting” and get a member of the cast to do some suggestive puppetry with a pair of sneakers, only for Linsley/Terre’Blanche to yell, “I said springboks, not Reeboks”.

The female members of the cast would don deer masks and then dance around as a chorus of springboks. I recall that Dorothy (“Dot”) Atkinson was one of the springboks in that song but more importantly one of the supremely talented members of that cast.

Perhaps you had to be there – it was great. Paula and Jon (and indeed Dot); you were and are stars. It was one of the golden eras for NewsRevue.

In my delight and excitement at this triumph, I found, in Record and Tape Exchange, which is/was around the corner from my flat, an utterly ghastly album of Afrikaaner Oom-pah-pah music by Johnny Saffer and his Afrikaaner Pennywhistle Brass Band. OK, perhaps the band wasn’t called that, but the jolly looking chap on the cover “boer” a passing resemblance to Linsley/Terre’Blanche.

I gave the album to Paula and Jonathan. I think Jonathan and Paula enjoyed the wheeze. I wonder what became of that memento when they split? Perhaps this Ogblog piece will uncover one or both of  those lovely people and my question might even be answered.

Meanwhile, the lyrics that were actually used in NewsRevue follow:

                              EUGENE TERRE’BLANCHE – JULY 1992 VERSION

(To the tune of “Sweet Gene Vincent”)

 

INTRO BIT

 

{CHORUS:Eugene baby}

I like to get out of Cape Town sometimes and drive round the Karoo,

I like to eat Boerwors with right wing reporters who claim we don’t screw;

I like to watch the springboks rutting, I like to eat them barbecued.

Eugene Terre’Blanche, Neo-Nazi baas, Eugene Terre’Blanche.

{CHORUS:Who, who, who’s that baas?}

 

1st MAIN BIT

 

White face-black shirt, whites rich-blacks poor, Afrikaner-Hottentot, white’s right-black’s not:-

Eugene Terre’Blanche,

There’s one in every town;

I’m fond of dressing up like the Ku Klux Klan,

In a pointed hat and gown.

 

Eugene Terre’Blanche,

I am a crashing Boer;

Before we cede power to the ANC,

We’ll fight a civil war.

 

Well, the Nationalist Party is much too soft,

I think they’re Botha jerk,

But I’d still sooner have to take my Pik,

Than F.W. de Klerk.

 

2nd MAIN BIT

 

White Meneer-black Kaffir, whites vote-blacks don’t, Afrikaner-Bantu, hate blacks and Jews:-

Eugene Terre’Blanche,

They say that I’m like Himmler;

I haven’t yet caused as much violence as him,

But our accents sound quite similar.

 

Eugene Terre’Blanche,

I’m the baas laager lout;

We’re gonna cause trouble in the RSA,

Until we get thrown out.

 

Eugene Terre’Blanche,

I’m just a big fat git;

I’d like to end this song on a profound note,

But I’m afraid that’s it.

 

Click here or below for the Ian Dury and the Blockheads version.