Frank Dillon: “It wasn’t just me, it was also them”
In 1983, the humorous publishing “mode du jour” was The Complete Naff Guide:
Purportedly by three authors, it was in fact written almost exclusively by William Donaldson, who was better known as Henry Root. I read the Henry Root Letters books earlier than 1983 in my time at Keele and found them laugh-out-loud funny. I still treasure my copies of those.
Perhaps it was those Henry Root book covers that inspired The Price Of Fish…
…but I digress.
The point is, Frank Dillon and others decided to put together a spoof of The Complete Naff Guide, in the form of a booklet, which was given away with Concourse. It caused a bit of a flurry, because it was, to Keele students at the time, very funny.
Indeed, at the time I recall thinking that the Keele “Naff” Guide was, to my mind, a lot funnier than the real thing. Returning to both recently, my view has, if anything, hardened on this. The Complete Naff Guide seems terribly dated and riddled with in-jokes directed at particular media people of that era, presumably those who were not on William Donaldson’s Christmas card list. I suspect that rather a lot of well-known people were not on Christmas card terms with Donaldson.
As for the Keele “Naff” Guide, while some jokes are dated, chunks of it remain funny and probably relevant. I think many of the jokes will resonate with Keele alums and students throughout the ages.
You can judge for yourselves and let us know what you think. Here, with Frank Dillon’s permission, I republish it in full. All 20 pages of it.
Frank says the following:
I did write at least some of it, but can’t take credit (or blame) for the whole thing, though the idea that I had “friends” will come as a shock to many.
I suspect that the harsher observations contained therein would not evade the blue pencil of 21st-century mores, so apologies to those who might have been offended (and are yet to be so, upon re-publication).
I echo the last sentence of Frank’s message, but suggest that you would need to be super-sensitive to be offended by any of the content, as long as you read it in its context: a 1983 comedic piece. The first item in the list of “Naff Records To Request At the Disco”, for example, reads like a cruel joke today, in late May 2023, whereas it was, at the time, a reference to a record that didn’t need to be requested, because it was almost always played at union discos and/or on the main bar jukebox!
Returning to the Keele “Naff” Guide…
…you can view the document two ways. I have uploaded all 20 images to Flickr, which is perhaps more navigable (or at least makes it easier to enlarge the pages) – the first link below is the cover, clicking on that one takes you to Flickr. Below that are the other 19 images shown within this piece – each one is clickable if you want to delve deeper or larger into that one page.
In the spring of 1983, one of the “big hit” comedy books that captivated the young (and young at heart) was The Complete Naff Guide.
Available second hand – click image if you wish
Not long after, there emerged a short publication at Keele named The Keele “Naff” Guide. It is attributed to Adrian Bore and Daphne Canard, but is actually the work of Frank Dillon, with a little help from his friends. I plan to e-publish the “tome” for the May Bank Holiday weekend 2023. Watch this space.
Point is, on the short list of Naff Union Positions gracing the back cover of the Keele “Naff” Guide, Chairperson Of Constitutional Committee does stand out as being quintessentially naff.
How Frank himself, with a little help from his friends, persuaded me to run for that position in the spring of 1983, is one of life’s mysteries that would probably best remain unsolved. But I’m going to try and solve it anyway.
I have mentioned before the shenanigans around several union elections in 1982 and 1983, largely caused by the Tory faction deliberately trying to game flaws and loopholes in the election rules in an attempt to disrupt the smooth running of the union.
In May 1983 my memory would still have been fresh with the (in my case literally sickening) shenanigans that February – click here or below:
Yes, I was on Constitutional Committee (which was also Election Appeals Committee) that year. Yes, I suppose I was seen as one of the good guys. Yes, only one person had put their name forward for the 1983/84 role – Adam Fairholme, who was a Conservative, albeit from a benign corner of that grouping.
I think it was a small posse that ganged up on me and persuaded me to run. I’m pretty sure that Frank Dillon himself was part of that posse. Also Vincent Beasley. I have a feeling that Genaro Castaldo (he who pleaded me away from my sick bed when things went awry in February) and possibly also Viv Robinson (who had been elected to succeed Genaro) leant on me.
I said I didn’t really want to do it. I said I had no time to put together a manifesto and contest the election. I said it was better that they find someone else.
Just do whatever you can. We think you’ll win the election anyway.
I sat in the Main Bar and wrote a few lines in large block capitals on a side of A4 paper. I wish I still had that scribbled-so-called-manifesto to show you. It was so sloppy and shoddy that, I recall, Viv Robinson and I subsequently used it in a guidance note to people who wanted to run for elections in 1983/84 as an example of what NOT to do.
It included my name writ large with a large cross in a box top and bottom. I recall that I pledged to
uphold the spirit and the letter of the constitution
explain constitutional matters in ways that would help and encourage students to participate in the union
seek to revise the constitution to block the loopholes that had recently been exploited to frustrate the union’s purposes.
In fairness to myself, despite the brevity of the pledges and shoddy presentation, I did see through those pledges to the best of my ability during 1983/84.
Having signed my nomination papers and deposited my scrappy piece of hand-written A4 purporting to be a manifesto, I then went back to Shelton for much of the next week, returning to the campus just for classes, a bit of private study and some infeasibly long tennis matches with Alan “The Great Yorkshire Pudding” Gorman. I don’t think I went to the union again until election day.
I’m pretty sure that my diary entry on 6 May which reads, in part “union for a while” reflects the above.
Friday 13 May 1983 – Busyish day – classes etc. – election for const. comm. – won – went to Shelton- had 1st drink (or 2) there.
I think I won the election on a small turnout but a significant percentage. Something like 120 to 80. I recall that Adam Fairholme was bitterly disappointed not to be elected; I think he campaigned quite hard and fancied his chances against an all-but-absentee candidate. Actually Adam was a good bloke and we became friends, albeit not close friends. I’ll write more about him and his demise come the 40th anniversary of that tragedy.
“1st drink (or 2)” relates to the fact that I had been completely off the sauce since February on the back of doctors orders due to my glandular fever (infectious mononucleosis). In May, Dr Scott told me that my “six month ban” could be reduced to “three months” for good behaviour, as I really hadn’t touched a drop.
But did I have the constitution for it?
Saturday 14 May 1983 – Rose quite early – came back to Keele for a while – dress and tennis – went back to Shelton – drag at party – not too pleasant – v late night.
I only very vaguely remember this party but I’m guessing it was some sort of costume party involving drag (they were an arty crowd, Liza’s North Staffs Poly crowd – I suppose that’s what you get when you study art). I don’t think I enjoyed it much, based on my diary entry.
Sunday 15 1983 – decadent day in bed – talking etc. – v pleasant – felt v ill – temp up – both [me and Liza] came back to Keele.
Even at the age of 20, I think its clear that I preferred smaller gatherings of friends/people I knew and liked, to big parties – regardless of costumes or lack thereof.
Even clearer is the fact that I did not yet have the constitution for drinking again. I voluntarily stayed off the sauce for quite a while longer. While my body didn’t tell me that three to four hour tennis matches might be overdoing it, it did tell me that one or two drinks was still one or two too many for my post-virus constitution.
The UGM That Never Was (Photo: KUSU-Ballroom-1962-John-Samuel)
Don’t ask me why 7 March 1983 was noteworthy in my diary as “UGM That Never Was…”. Presumably some of us sat around for some time hoping for a quorum but the quorum never came.
Lots of mentions of Liza visiting me and even me visiting her at The Sneyd, so any hangover form my post-glandular-fever grumpiness had presumably abated…
…lots of activity and lots of mentions of being busy…although I do recall getting uncharacteristic waves of fatigue for many weeks after my release from the Heath Centre.
Friday 11 March 1983 – Rose early – did quite a lot of things. Alan went home – election appeals – went to see film with Liza – back here after…
…I think Alan had some serious partying to do back home that weekend and had finished all of his course work for the term that Friday. I recall that Alan returned to Keele several weeks later looking a whiter shade of pale green, having been out on the lash with his mates just before returning to Keele. I wondered whether a single binge-boozy-party had been sustained throughout all of those weeks and asked him that very question.
ALAN: Feels a bit like that today.
ME: You look a very funny colour, to be honest.
ALAN: You haven’t exactly looked rosy-cheeked yourself lately, mate.
ME: Fair point.
But I digress.
I’m irritated that I didn’t write down the name of the film that Liza and I saw that night – but I needn’t have worried. A private message to Tony Sullivan, Filmsocista extraordinaire from that era, secured the vital piece of information.
…Liza, Mandy and I went to Hanley, saw Rocky Horror…
This must have been the Theatre Royal Hanley production – the theatre had just reopened in a new guise and I think we saw a pilot or preview version of the production of Rocky Horror that ran there for years. There is a wonderful web page of memories from that production on this “Memories Of Theatre Royal Hanley” WordPress site. (If anything ever goes awry at that site, here is a scrape.) Also this newsreel footage from when the resulting touring production closed in 1988. Lots of Keele students must have seen this show in the 1980s:
I had seen the stage production of Rocky Horror in London in the late 1970s with my BBYO pals, so felt very much “ahead of the curve” in the company of Liza and Mandy that night – a rare feeling in the matter of the arts with Liza and her “art school crowd”.
To add to the horror, I did a class test on the Tuesday morning (15th March) which must have been the formal last day of term as I signed on 16th March. [For younger readers who haven’t been following this series avidly for years, “signing on” was something students all needed to do each holiday if we wanted in effect to have our grants extended to cover holidays. The thought of the bureaucracy required to have most higher education students signing on and off the dole three times a year is truly mind-boggling.]
Friday 18 March – Easyish day – did a little work – watched TV in eve with Hamzah and Yazid.
Hamzah Shawal was my Bruneian flatmate. Yazid was one of the Malay guys who lived in a Q-Block Barnes flat with three other Malay guys, not too far away from our Barnes L-Block flat. I have no idea what we watched, but it is interesting that it was such a rare thing for me to do that I noted the fact that we watched TV. We might well have watched The Tube early evening, as Bono was interviewed that day:
I’m pretty sure this would have been one of the rare occasions I cooked for the South-East Asian gang, rather than them cooking for me. They were quite strict on Muslim dietary laws, which rather restricted my meat-based diet.
However, I did have a couple of tricks up my sleeve which satisfied their religious structures. I always had a supply of Osem Chicken Soup Mix
This product is not only kosher but it is actually vegetarian, allowing me to make chicken soup & kneidlach (Matzo Ball Soup) for vegetarian and carnivore friends alike.
With thanks to Dall-E for collaborating with me on this image
My other piece de resistance for the halal & veggie crowd was potato latkes:
Again Dall-E produced this image based on my instructions.
If or when I can find my mother’s yellowed, hand-written pages of instructions for these delights I’ll publish the recipes. Hers were variations on the traditional Florence Greenberg & Evelyn Rose recipes.
Cheap, cheerful and heart-warming food.
Saturday 19 March 1983 – Liza came over in morning. Went to meet Julie -> Mike & Mandy’s -> dinner -> cam home quite early.
Sunday 20 March – Rose quite late – went down to lakes & back to Sneyd. Visited Ashley later.
I’m so glad that Ashley gets a mention that fortnight – albeit right at the end. Ashley has been known to complain if there aren’t enough pieces about him.
The diary suggests that I was feeling really low and still poorly during those first few days out of the Health Centre. The short-term improvement of mood arising from my release soon morphed into realisation that there was a longish haul to recovery of my normal energy levels and high spirits.
The interesting day that week was the Wednesday, when I found myself at the occupation of the University Registry by day and at a Eurythmics concert in the Union by night.
That mandate was more than somewhat against the will of the Union Committee, under Truda Smith, who wanted to do something else (or possibly nothing at all) about the grant cuts.
I don’t think we mandated the Registry as the building to be occupied and I certainly was not involved in the planning of the event. I was persona non grata with Truda and her hench-folk by that time and in any case I was sick with glandular fever when the event bubbled to a head.
Dr David Cohen, a larger than life character recognisable for sporting large bow ties, had, only the previous term, switched from being the Senior Tutor (latterly referred to as Director of Studies) to being Registrar.
I don’t suppose he was overjoyed at having the Registry occupied so early in his tenure. It was nothing personal – the Registry seemed to be the obvious place to occupy for such matters – partly because it was the centre of University bureaucracy and partly because it was centrally located on the campus and easy to occupy given its strange mix of formal construction and strung-together prefabricated Nissen hut-like structures.
I recall David being very suspicious of me when I became a Union sabbatical – I suspect he thought I was rabidly radical. But we found ways of working together quite quickly; he was open-minded enough to change his mind about people if the evidence was there for such a change. I was sorry to learn that he died in 2022, just shy of 40 years after the “historic” occupation of his office..
Frankly, 48 hours after my release form the Health Centre I wasn’t really up for it. I felt that I should show my face but probably looked like the ghost of occupations past; I had lost lots of weight (from a fairly skinny start) with my illness and I suspect that my skin colour was more yellow/green than ruddy/pink.
All I really remember was hating how I felt in that cramped, poorly ventilated space and sensing that pretty much everyone realised that I shouldn’t really be there, so I didn’t stay all that long.
I collaborated with Dall-E to produce the following artists’ impression of the event.
Not bad, Dall-E, but this lot look a bit better dressed than 1980s Keele students
The Eurythmics concert in the Union was a big deal for my girlfriend, Liza O’Connor. She was into synthesizer-based music and Eurythmics was one of the groups that everyone in the art school world was talking about.
Indeed, the SU had timed their booking of Eurythmics to perfection. Their first hit, Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This, had come out a few weeks earlier and was climbing the pop charts at a rapid rate. Liza was really excited about the prospect of this gig and we deemed it to be our postponed Valentine’s Night.
However, the sweet success of Sweet Dreams also brought with it some logistical issues. If I remember correctly, Eurythmics had been called at the last minute to record a video or performance of the song or something, on the very day of our gig. The result was a very late concert indeed. I think the warm up act did their thing and then went home and we the audience were kept waiting a long time for Eurythmics.
I seem to recall Liza really liking the gig, but I was half-dead on my feet by the time Eurythmics showed up. I think it was quite a short set, book-ended by Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This. I remember being grateful for the brevity and not really enjoying the show, which is a shame.
Latterly I saw a lot of Annie Lennox; she was a regular at my health club in the 1990s and early 2000s and thus we became nodding acquaintances, even “hi and bye” folk in the neighbourhood.
I wish I’d seen her perform on a more suitable night.
I should imagine I slept well after that tiring day but I doubt if I had sweet dreams while in that glum mood. I don’t suppose I was good company for Liza when I was that gloomy and poorly, which might explain why she left me alone until the Sunday. On that day, the diary says that she came over for the evening and that we went to see Ashley [Fletcher] after.
I’m glad Ashley gets a mention in the diary that week. I have recently (forty years on) corresponded with him, not least about aspects of this period. Ashley complained that there aren’t enough pieces about him. Actually, for aficionados of Ashley Fletcher stories, e.g. Ashley, that will be rectified in the next episode.
The following diary entry is the first clue that something was wrong:
Sunday 6 February 1983: Rough night – felt ill in morn. & all day – wrote essay in eve nonetheless
It didn’t get better – for the next couple of days my ill health was the only topic in my diary. I have hardly any photos from that era, let alone “lolling around feeling poorly” ones, so I commissioned Dall-E to reimagine the scene:
Monday 7 February 1983 – Pretty ill today. Stayed away from classes – early night – not well.
Tuesday 8 February 1983 – Pretty ill still – went to Health Centre – put on tablets. Came home – stayed in – early night – quite ill.
Actually I have very powerful memories of that 8 February 1983 evening. Everyone else in the flat went out or did their own thing. I stayed home and watched the movie The Harder They Come on Channel 4. I remember thinking it was a fabulous movie, despite the fact I felt so ill. Forty years on, it is available on-line so anyone can watch it. The music is awesome if you like ska and reggae.
The other thing I especially remember about that evening is that I persevered with smoking even though my throat was incredibly sore.
Anyway, I soon had time on my hands in the Health Centre to reflect on the stupidity of this practice. Hence I know that I smoked my last cigarette of tobacco while watching that movie that evening.
Interesting also that the TV listings tell me that the movie finished just before 23:00 – after which I would have gone to bed. At that time, this met the definition of an “early night”.
Wednesday 9 February 1983 – Came into Health Centre – pretty ill today. Don’t like it here much.
Thursday 10 February 1983 – Feeling bit better today – let up in evening into lounge etc.
More reflections on the Health Centre next time – my early release was premature
Not sure if I blagged my way out or whether they desperately needed the beds or what – but I was released with suspected flu and instructed to recuperate at my flat. I had at least resolved to quit smoking for good, which, with the benefit of hindsight, was an excellent longer-term health outcome.
From Smoke-Free Resolve To A Smoke-Filled Room: An Election Appeal
Friday 11 February – Came out of Health Centre – not at all well. Being sick all day. Went election appeals in eve – came home to bed.
…anyway, this season the shenaniganistas were at it again. I think this problematic election was that of Vivian Robinson, who was active in Labour Club and therefore “within the sights” of the Conservative crew who were keen to disrupt elections by deliberately breaking the rules and then trying to have the election annulled if they didn’t like the result because rules had been broken. These Machiavellian types probably thought that their techniques would enable them to run the country this way in future decades, given half a chance…oh crikey!
Anyway, there was I lolling around in my flat, looking like a Dall-E reimagining of a sick 1980s student, trying not to throw up all the time…
…when Gennaro Castaldo, the SU Secretary at that time, arrived at my flat. Gennaro was one of the good guys – I guess he probably still is. He had heard that I’d been ill and was hugely apologetic…while also being emphatic…he pretty much pleaded with me to come to the Election Appeals Meeting. Gennaro sensed that it was going to be a bare-knuckle tussle and was keen to have all of the voting panellists there.
It was hard to say no to Gennaro in such circumstances – probably almost any circumstances, if he put his mind to being persuasive.
I remember telling Gennaro that I’d been throwing up all day and wasn’t sure I could get through a heated meeting without upchucking. My “humourist reflecting back ” self today reckons that a full-blooded chunder at some point in that meeting might have been the most apposite comment of the evening.
I have asked Dall-E to try recreating the smoke-filled room that was the SU President’s office at that election appeal.
It was more unruly-looking than this, but not bad for 21st Century AI envisaging the 1980s
Chris Boden, who I think was also a member of our panel, was the main voice of the (if not the actual) complainant. I have no recollection what the actual detail of the complaint was – only that it was pretty clear to me that the whole exercise was a stunt to disrupt the students union rather than a genuine uncovering of sharp practice by or on behalf of a candidate which should result in the election being overturned.
I recall that Gennaro had kindly/sensibly placed me near the door so I could make a break for it if I felt the need to throw up. I also remember the room being very smoky indeed, which was not good news for my still agonisingly sore throat.
I also very clearly recall that, at one point, when Chris Boden was trying to set out his complaint that “someone” had broken the election rules, Vincent Beasley jumped to his feet, pointed at Chris Boden and yelled “J’Accuse” at the top of his voice. At that point, I thought I might need to bolt out of the room to throw up, but I just about managed to contain myself.
Lovers of justice everywhere will be delighted to learn that the election appeal was dismissed and the election rightfully confirmed.
But my personal struggle with infection and the Health Centre was far from over, as you’ll learn next time.
As the end of my first P2 term loomed, I spent less time working (getting through my deadlines in decent time, it seems) and more time with Lisa and friends.
“Mike & Mandy” mentioned in the Friday 3 December entry were friends (and soon to be flatmates) of Lisa’s at North Staffs Poly. That evening in the Students’ Union might have been the first time I met them.
I have no recollection of the “not good at all” UGM on Monday 6 December. My guess is that Truda Smith and her reactionary forces were seeking to subvert our Keele Action Group purposes.
The fiends.
Mind you, the thought of any Constitutional Committee meeting followed by a UGM does not fill me with delight, in hindsight. I am reminded of the quote attributed to Oscar Wilde: “The trouble with socialism is that it takes up too many evenings”. Or, in my case, too many meetings.
In that very last week of term, it seems that Alan Gorman joined us for at least a couple of those sociable (kin contrast with the socialism) evenings. I remember Lisa and Alan getting on well; they shared a quirky sense of humour which possibly explains how both of them were able to tolerate me so much.
I recall some late evenings in the flat listening to some of my comedy sketch tapes and laughing like drains together. But I’m pretty sure that kicked off in the second term. I’ll write more about it then.
At the end of this first term, the event that sticks in my mind the most is the Wednesday 8 December entry which mentions the Thunderbirds night.
I think there must have been some sort of cinema release of a feature length Thunderbirds compilation or something around that time. I think they also repeated the original TV series (but that had been and continued happening periodically for decades).
Point is, there was certainly a bit of a cult following vibe amongst students for Thunderbirds at that time.
We (which means me, Lisa, Alan and I think Ashley Fletcher was with us that night -possibly others too) went to a screening somewhere on the campus. It might have been Film Soc. in the Chancellor’s Building, but I have a feeling that this screening was in the Union or possibly a Horwood Refectory job.
I recall a lot of “audience participation”, for example with students proffering unsolicited advice on romance in the direction of a hapless Tracy youth (I think Alan). Mind you, I think Keele students on the whole had got the hang of such things a bit better than the befuddled marionette.
It was all in good humour and (in our case certainly) a form of reverent mockery. We liked Thunderbirds. We also liked to laugh at Thunderbirds.
I haven’t changed all that much in this regard, forty years on. During lockdown, Janie and I watched a few old episodes through the Wayback Machine to cheer ourselves up. Still good.
If you just want a taster, this launch sequence is wonderful, although it has been much parodied since:
On Friday 10 December the term formally came to an end, although I stayed up at Keele for a further 10+ days, which I shall report about in the next enthralling episode of “Forty Years On”.
Keele Students’ Union With Thanks To Paul Browning For The Photo
My November 1982 diary continues mostly to document a set pattern of student life that term. I was going out with Liza O’Connor, whom, it seems, I would see two or three times each week. At that time she was still living with her family at The Sneyd Arms, so I quite often describe walking her home late at night; which presumably staved off the wrath of Geoff O’Connor – no student (or offspring) wanted his wrath.
In the end, it was me who proposed the motion – much to the chagrin of Union President Truda Smith, who afterwards gave me a metaphorical handbagging…or do I mean “metaphorical hairdryer treatment“…or do I mean a metaphorical “handbagging with hair-dryer within” treatment? Truda was not happy. Pete Roberts seconded the motion, which probably gave the motion the political gravitas we thought it needed, as he was the immediate past Education & Welfare sabbatical and he said that he thought the quality of our education and our welfare was at risk from the cuts.
The diary entry suggests that the result was a solid win on the vote:
Monday 15 November 1982: Busy day – writing speech etc. UGM went well – motion passed well etc. Paul & Mike came in after.
I’m not sure who Paul & Mike were in this context. Was it you, Paul Evans? I don’t remember you being into the politics much but perhaps the issue of the cuts floated your boat. For Mike, a bearded fellow in a duffel coat springs to mind but I don’t honestly remember for sure. Pete Roberts, Simon Jacobs or Jon Gorvett might help me out here. Or perhaps not.
J-Soc Friday Night Meal, Friday 26 November 1982
Whose blithering idea was it to attempt this at Keele – a University with a tiny, mostly secular Jewish community?
Actually I have a funny feeling it was sort-of my idea.
Following the success of the International Fair the previous summer and the “joint venture” I had fostered with Tony Wong of the Chinese Cultural Society, I was very cognisant of the fact that other cultural societies had centred their cultural offerings around food, whereas J-Soc had not really done so.
Further, we had some enthusiasts for doing a meal in the form of, if I remember correctly, Michelle Epstein (who was in her second year) plus a couple of newbies – Annalisa de Mercur (who became a good friend for many years, during and after Keele) plus Julie Reichman.
In short, I think it was my idea that we do food and “the girls” turned the idea into something with deeper cultural significance – a heimisch Jewish Friday Night meal.
…our event wouldn’t have looked or sounded anything like the vid below either:
My recollection is that the event “got big on us”, with a lot of work in the planning and the aftermath. The event dominates my diary from the Tuesday before until the day itself and even seemed to dominate until the Monday after.
I don’t even remember where we held the dinner, although something tells me that there was a facility in Horwood that we could and did use for events like this. Or, if not, possibly the Lindsay Hexagon.
I remember being delighted to leave much of the hands-on running of the event to “the girls” and feeling, by the end of it, that I was happy to leave J-Soc more generally in their very capable (and more enthusiastic than my) hands.
The attendees for the event included several people from the Chinese and Arab cultural societies, plus my own entourage (including Liza O’Connor & my new flatmate Alan Gorman, who came from Catholic backgrounds), which might have been fascinating and/or beguiling for them.
“Hastly” Day After The Big Event, Saturday 27 November 1982
Hastly [by which I think I meant “hassle-strewn”] day. Shopped in afternoon – Liza and Chantelle’s friend stayed for dinner. Went to union – got quite drunk…took L home quite late
The fact that I mention Chantelle’s friend in this context means, I’m pretty sure, that there must have been some sub-text. I don’t really remember, but I suspect that I was pretty “duncatering” by the Saturday and/but ended up preparing the Saturday dinner in question. “Got quite drunk” was probably a way to let off steam in the union after the catering stresses of the preceding few days.
The subtext is probably lost in the mists of time, but if I had a grump on in those days, people around me would have known about it. Actually I’m not sure the obviousness of my grump has changed much in the forty years since.
On the Monday I was “sorting out J-Soc stuff still” which probably irritated me, although I did find time in the afternoon to “visit Anju”.
But it is mostly work for the next few days, so I sense that I felt that I was behind where I wanted to be with my essays and the like. Either that or some sort of interpersonal grump that I was too polite to write down and which is now, mercifully, long-since forgotten.
Thus, the die was cast in many ways for the Keele year that, in my case, was known as P2 – i.e. my third year at Keele but my second of three principle years of undergraduate study. Liza’s dad was the landlord of The Sneyd Arms. Liza had just started studying design at North Staff Poly but, at that early stage of her student journey, was still living with her folks above the pub.
Liza features a lot in my 82/83 diaries.
I am struggling to remember Chevonne & Rani but I think they were fellow law students. I was studying Jurisprudence and Criminology that year; I think they were working with me on one or other of those disciplines.
A fair bit of domestic stuff, “shopping, laundering, cooking etc”. I also recall Ashley [Fletcher] was a very regular visitor that term. He lived off campus (or was it Hawthornes still?) but he was Treasurer that year, so was often about the main campus perhaps seeking refuge from the Union!
Thursday 21 October 1982 – Rushed today – Hassan pulled out of J-Soc last minute…
Much as I had been a bit press-ganged into joining Constitutional Committee, I had been press-ganged into Chairing the Jewish Society that year. Hassan was a shaliach – a sort of roving rabbi – who was supposed to look after student communities and/but – from my recollection – was culturally at variance with the mostly liberal, barely or non-practicing Jewish community at Keele and quite often did not show up when expected…nor did he turn up unannounced.
Saturday 23 October 1982 – Busy day – went shopping for carpet etc. Cooked meal for L[isa] in eve…
I cannot recall buying a carpet. I think it was probably something that people would now call a rug, presumably to try and make the lino-floored living room of Barnes L54 seem more homely. I think I detect Chantelle’s influence on this rather more domesticated tone to my diary than that which followed after her departure from Barnes L54.
Well, there’s some working, there’s some “not going out” and there’s Liza coming over midweek. I seem to have been settling into a slightly less “every night in the Union” pattern and more of a “get the work done during the week” pattern.
I love my description of the UGM as “quite good but dull”. I’m delighted for all our sakes – readers and writer alike – that the detail that led to that adjectival description is lost in the mists of time.
Thursday 28 October 1982 – Busyish day. WPR in afternoon – tutorials etc – Jewish Society – Ashley came along – went to union after
I hope someone out there can let me know what WPR might have stood for in that context. It must have been very important – I noted it in my diary. It must be obvious what WPR stands for, it is just my waning powers of memory letting me down once again.
If ever we needed evidence that Ashley Fletcher was part of the Jewish conspiracy…not that there is or was such a conspiracy of course…that 28 October diary entry is incontrovertible proof.
In truth, I seem to recall that I was on a mission to try to expand the influence of the cultural societies (which were all pitifully small) by making joint membership arrangements with some of the other groups. In particular, I recall plotting this with Tony Wong, who was my opposite number at the Chinese Cultural Society. Ashley was in favour of this and happy for the union grants, which were capitation based, to thus be increased to reflect the expanded memberships. My purpose in bringing Ashley along with me to J-Soc that evening, if I recall correctly, was to demonstrate that my idea had official Students’ Union blessing.
Saturday 30 October 1982 – …went to Chinese evening -> Union ->…
I recall that the Chinese Cultural Society, at that time, was better than J-Soc at ensuring that food was an integral part of a gathering. I decided that evening to try and change up J-Soc in that regard for future events.
Sunday 31 October 1982 – …KAG meeting in eve…
I am pretty sure that this was the evening when we engaged the services of Pete Roberts to help with our KAG master plan. I’m sure there were several of us at the heart of KAG, but I only clearly recall Simon Jacobs and Jon Gorvett being there.
Still plotting after all these years (not Stephanie, obvs) – me, Simon & Jon
Having failed to persuade Truda Smith (President) that she and her new committee should take some direct action to show the student body’s disquiet at the harsh University grant cuts – we would take a resolution to a UGM mandating the committee to take action.
The world as seen by Pete Roberts that evening?
The meeting that afternoon was help in my room in Barnes L54. The rest of us had gathered, then Pete arrived fashionably late, having clearly imbibed or partaken of some mind-changing substance that day.
I especially recall the reaction of Alan Gorman, my nonplussed fresher flatmate, when afterwards we chatted in the living room about Pete’s arrival.
I sensed that he was not all there. He was mumbling about a pink rat…and Simon…or perhaps it was a pink rat named Simon. I pointed him towards your room which seemed to do the trick.
I have ever since used the “named pink rat” line when alluding to someone under various influences, not least in my 1994 lyric about the rave scene:
Still, despite seeming to be away with the fairies, Pete was cognitively strong and sensible enough to turn the tables on me.
Our plan was to have Pete (who was the most recent former sabbatical Education & Welfare Officer) propose the motion and I would second it.
Pete persuaded us that it would be much better if I proposed it and he seconded it. The logic behind that table turning is lost in the mists of time, beer and goodness knows what else. I fail to see the logic now but that was the deal and that is what happened…
…stay tuned!
Perhaps Pete Roberts remembers or has a different take on this story. I’m still in touch with him…at least I was before this write up!
Postscript
Pete Roberts has indeed been in touch, writing the following explanation, which clears the whole matter up very satisfactorily indeed. Thanks Pete:
Hey kids, never try to explain something when under the influence.
Perfectly reasonable explanation. ‘Rat’ was a flatmate in Barnes. His superpower was that he had a pink rat costume. He only had to go for a short walk in it to be dragged into a party. It wasn’t all fun; he had to hurl drinks into his ‘mouth’ and whatever missed would fill up his wellington boots. I’m amazed he survived Fresher’s Week without drowning..
By 1982, the annual Gentlemen (of the right) v Players (of the left) cricket match had become an iconic feature of Keele Festival Week. It was many years later that I learnt that this “tradition” had only started a year or two earlier. Keele traditions were a bit like that back then.
The Roping In
I made a pigs ear of writing this event up previously, combining my memories of the 1982 match with the 1983 match, having forgotten that I ended up playing this match three illustrious times while at Keele; my last appearance being 1984.
My mistake was spotted by Mark Ellicott, whose name I had delicately left out of my previous write up of this first occasion, as it was for an “intoxicated” Mark that I was hurriedly found and roped in as a late substitute. Mark pointed out that it must have been 1982, as that was the summer during which he was caught up in all this stuff and he was involuntarily on sabbatical from the University the following academic year. Mark later went on to be a Students’ Union sabbatical, stretching his Keele duration yet further.
On the topic of this 1982 cricket match, my diary entry merely says, with surprisingly little enthusiasm:
Got roped into playing cricket all afternoon.
Here is the Mark Ellicott substitution bit of the story, as I originally wrote it, before Mark got in touch. Naturally I have now cleared with Mark the idea of attaching his name to the story:
“I got a knock on the door early afternoon…a certain wild-haired student (even more wild-haired than me), who latterly – more latterly even than me – became a sabbatical, had been experimenting with an acidic chemical – presumably something to do with his subsidiary or extra-curricular studies – and had accidentally ingested rather too much of the stuff…
Mark Ellicott two or three years later
…he might have been experiencing something like this:
In short, the accidental acid victim was away with the fairies and I was in the team.“
Mark describes his experience slightly differently, presumably starting the evening before:
It was on Results Day for finalists in the summer of 82. I had scored two tabs previously and was working that day as a waiter in Oysters wine bar serving up bottles of wine etc to celebrating finalists. I dropped one tab whilst working idiotically enough and after ten minutes when nothing was happening even more idiotically dropped the second. Thereafter it all gets hazy, but like you I have kept a diary since I was a kid so can refer back. I must have wandered away from my workplace because the next thing I remember is wrestling with an anonymous young woman outside the Computer Science lab. Then it’s several hours later and I’m sitting in the Union bar with Truda Smith, Mark [Bartholomew], Simon [Jacobs], Anna [Summerskill] etc. I’m completely incapable of speech at this stage. I hear Truda’s disembodied voice explain to people “he’s tripping, keep an eye on him”. Next thing I recall I’m hiding under a bush by Keele Hall and Mark and Simon come looking for me, find me, and gently return me to the Union and a disco where I have a vague recollection of ‘dancing’ to ‘Say Hello Wave Goodbye’ by Soft Cell. Then I’m at a party in Stoke talking to a woman who runs a chippie. Completely brilliant day that was !
When I gently suggested to Mark that I might link his name with my cricket-career reviving incident, he replied…
…please go ahead and use my name. I’ve never been embarrassed about my psychedelic experiments then.
The Match Itself
Under the circumstances, I didn’t expect much of a role for The Players and got pretty much what I expected.
I was reminded of this 1982 match in August 2018, after Adil Rashid had a rare “thanks for coming” (TFC) test match – i.e. he did not bat and did not bowl in the whole match – a very rare event in test cricket – written up here…
…but not quite so rare an event in beer matches. Indeed, both the 1982 & 1983 Gentlemen (of the right) v Players (of the left) match at Keele were TFC matches for me. I did not bat; I did not bowl, but…
But the ball tends to follow the team donkey. I recall the Gentlemen doing rather well against us at that stage of the match, with Mike Stephens (Secretary 1980/81) batting well & properly, along with a beefy, sporty fellow…I think his name is Steve Bailey, who had been the Chair of the Athletic Union, providing some humpty to the innings.
I’m pretty sure the above picture shows “the humpty chap”, Steve Bailey, at the 1980 Christmas Ball – apologies if I have grabbed a picture of the wrong humpty chap.
Three times the humpty chap lifted the ball skywards in my direction. Three times I failed to catch it. One of those misses was a juggled attempt which failed even after several potential reprieves. One I think I lost sight of completely, perhaps even running the wrong way.
Toby sent me to backward point instead, where he suggested that catches were far less likely but I might at least save some runs if I continued to put my body (the only asset I seemed to be bringing to the party) on the line. I think I brought my skiff of ale infield with me.
A few balls later, Mike Stephens executed a firm, albeit slightly uppish, late cut, which should have hurtled to the left of a diving backward point for four…
…but the diving backward point, me, somehow contrived to dive at the correct moment and the ball contrived to stick in my hand. A stunning, potentially match-turning catch.
It might have looked like a left handed version of this one from school a few years earlier, c1979, for which I was the photographer, not the catcher.
I recall Mike Stephens stomping off in an uncharacteristic huff of “it’s so unfair. He can’t catch for toffee…”
I have no photos from the 1982 game, sadly, nor the 1983 nor 1984 ones, but this one from a year or two earlier, thanks to Frank Dillon, should give the reader a pretty good feel for the look of the mighty Players team.
With thanks to Frank Dillon, this picture of an earlier “Players” team, probably 1981
If anyone out there has any more memories and/or photographs of our festival week beer matches, I’d love to hear from you.
For the benefit of people who were not at Keele back then, the term “P1 Year” referred to second year students who, like me, had opted to the the Foundation Year (FY) in their first year. P stood for “principal” I think.
Those who didn’t enjoy the cognitive and recreational benefits of FY would describe their undergraduate years as T1, T2 and T3 – T standing for “three” I think.
Before I trawl my diary for that May period, I’d like to talk a little about the vibe in my flat, M65 Barnes. The diary is silent about it, so unless I describe it soon, my P1 year will be over, M65 will be demolished and I won’t have told you about our quirky group of four.
Barnes M65 From February To June 1982: Me, Ahmed, Margaret & Jo
…not least, I was very keen to secure a flat for the following year and guessed that, with two of us electing to continue to have a Barnes flat, we’d get first dips on the vacant ones due to the M Block demolition.
Ahmed Mohd Isa was the member of that flat who wanted to stay on in a Barnes flat and was due to be my flatmate beyond 81/82. He was part of the small Malay community at Keele in those days – I got to know that crowd well through Ahmed that year and then subsequently. I’ll write more about that gang separately. Most of them lived in a flat in Q Block Barnes, while Ahmed I think had been allocated to M65 entirely by chance at the start of his Keele career.
The other two in M65’s last year were named Margaret and Jo. Margaret was from Manchester I think – while Jo was from the South-West if I remember correctly – Hampshire perhaps.
Both of them were vegetarians who disapproved of (but did not prohibit) my meat preparation and eating in the flat. I remember one occasion when a really bad smell started to pervade the kitchen and the girls became convinced that I had left some meat to rot somewhere.
Jo wandered around the kitchen, sniffing in a rodent-like manner behind cupboards and fittings, determined to find my errant flesh product. In fact, she discovered something especially foul-smelling that could not possibly be attributed to my carnivorousness. Behind the corner cupboard/pantry shelf, Jo found a decomposing cabbage, which she delicately removed from the flat at arms length with one hand while holding her nose with the other hand.
But the girls did have an absolute golden rule in the flat and woe-betide either me or Ahmed if we broke this rule: complete silence between 19:30 and 20:00 when Coronation Street was being broadcast. Margaret was the strictest enforcer of this rule. “Shhh”, she would hiss if either of us was so thoughtless as to want a glass of water or to grab a spoon and go back to our room during that broadcast. They would both sit in a leaning forward posture – usually with heads propped forward between fists, to ensure complete concentration and maximum proximity to the tiny screen of their portable black-and-white telly.
I’m pretty sure that Tony, who moved out to allow me in, had been to some extent at war with the girls, which was the main reason he moved out – but I didn’t have direct evidence to support that theory.
Margaret and Jo were finalists and in many ways were quite tolerant of both me and Ahmed as stop-out non-finalists, although we were both reasonably respectful of their need for some peace and quiet for revision.
They had some interesting friends, the most eccentric of whom was a posh lad known as “Dips”, who was the young country gent type and was known on occasion to drive his Land Rover across the playing fields – a recipe for getting caught red-handed and fined as his was almost certainly the only vehicle on campus that would leave tyre marks of that exact kind.
Who knows, 30 years later I might have re-encountered Dips at the Mollington Point-To-Point
It’s a shame I have no pictures of that flat or any of that crowd.
Given It Was The Business End Of That Academic Year, I Don’t Appear To Have Done Much Business For At Least A Couple Of Weeks
Here is a transcript of the first scrawl-ridden diary page:
In truth I don’t recall doing readings for Jon Gorvett and Mark Ellicott, but I am in touch with both of them forty years on, so I’ll ask them if they remember me reading for them.
I also don’t recall what ailed me – probably just a debilitating cold.
Thursday, 13 May 1982
Easyish sort of day – did some work but not too much.
Contrived a suitably easy night.
Friday, 14 May 1982
Went to my tutorial and straight off to London with Rob [Schumacher?] and Simon M[orris?].
Lazy evening with Ma and Pa.
Saturday 15 May 1982
Did some taping etc today. Lounged a lot – spoke to some people.
[Cousins on mum’s side] Hannah [Green], Sidney [Pizan], Jacquie and Len [Briegal] came for dinner – very pleasant evening.
Up till very late washing up.
Sunday, 16 May 1982
Rose quite late – had lunch – taped, lounged and spoke to more people.
Completely lazy evening – good break (from what? – Ed).
I guess the dinner with cousins was a slightly belated 60th birthday event for mum.
I particularly like my sarcastic note to self, which I must have written more or less immediately after writing the phrase “good break” asking myself, “from what?”
Self aware, that comment.
I hardly seem to have been over-exerting myself in the summer term of my P1 year, perhaps because there were no exams of any consequence that year – just finishing off some written work.
Sunday 17 May 1982
Return from London in the morning – spent the rest of the day writing my last essay of the session.
Tuesday, 18 May 1982
Essay went in.
Went to Anju [Sanehi]’s in the afternoon – decided to give film a miss – lazy evening in instead.
Wednesday, 19 May 1982
Easyish sort of day – spent whole evening in union – drank quite a bit etc.
Thursday, 20 May 1982
Did some work today – not too exerting though.
Lazy evening in tonight.
Friday 21 May 1982
Lazyish day today – did very little.
Spent quite a bit of time in union (EGM etc – chatting). Boozy afternoon and evening.
Went to film [McVicar – thank you Tony Sullivan for keeping records]– disco – back to Anju’s for tea.
Saturday 22 May 1982
Big shopping spree today – a late start.
Went to union in evening and to disco with Simon [Jacobs], Jon etc etc. Earlyish night.
Sunday, 23 May 1982
Easyish day – did very little – spent most of evening in the union do very little really – cooked a lot.
Monday 24 May 1982
Easyish day – mainly in union. UGM in the evening – a goody I feel.
Joe [Benedict Coldstream] came back after.
The mood of my May 1982 diary, which uses terms like “easyish” and “lazy” rather a lot, suddenly changes on the next page or two.
More Speed, Less Haste: The Rest Of May 1982
I sense that I rather realised that I really did need to get a bit of work done that term. I also remember quite clearly that I attempted at least one terrible technique for getting stuff done.
In short, although the diary is fairly quiet about it – the next week went a bit weird.
Tuesday 25 May 1982
Busy day of work – did quite a lot. Stayed in in the evening and did quite a bit more work.
Wednesday 26 May 1982
Busy most of the day getting ready for flat inspection. Did a little work – watched football [European Cup Final – probably a big screen job in the ballroom] & film [probably a TV broadcast not Filmsoc]– ok.
Thursday, 27 May 1982
Flat inspection today – last tutorial – [Union election] counts – FA Cup [Final replay] – cheap beer – futurist disco* dash home for supper// and all nighter of talk and writing.
Friday, 28 May 1982
The day seem to flash by – went to Pete [Roberts]’s office in ‘noon – took early night.
Cheap beer and hanging out with friends is more likely to have been my motivation for the football matches than the football itself.
I have no idea what a Futurist Disco might have been – presumably not futurist music as I now understand the term:
Social Committee preparing for a futurist disco?
…but the symbols suggest I had a good time and then retreated to take some speed to get me through a period of intense talking and writing. I remember this stupid experience well – it was the second and last time I experimented with that dangerous stuff. I remember feeling at the time that I was getting through loads of writing and getting loads done, only to realise that, after having lost a day-and-a-half, that I had written utter drivel and would need to rewrite everything I had attempted to get done that way.
I also chewed my lips to shreds…again.
Not a good idea, Speed in the hope of cognitive productivity. Certainly not for me – I would now advise against it.
Saturday, 29 May 1982
Rose late – lazy sort of day.
Went to union -> Mark’s [Bartholomew this time I think] with Si [mon Jacobs], Johnny Rothman [who must have been visiting Simon] etc. – stayed till late…
Sunday, 30 May 1982
… Went to Amphitheatre in the early hours. Got out about 8 am.
Went to bed – got up for a few hours and went back to bed!!!
Monday 31st of May 1982
Lazyish day about place – tried to work in eve.
Tuesday, 1 June 1982
Quietish day. Tried to do some work. Saw film [The Deer Hunter – thanks again, Tony Sullivan] in eve.
Yes, I remember wandering off in the early hours, after that ad hoc party of Mark & Simon’s, with a chap whose face I can picture but whose name I’ve forgotten and we ended up jabbering some sort of a theatrical role play of our own devising in that amphitheatre until well after sunrise. As with my speed-induced writings, it seemed terribly profound when we were doing it and then on reflection the next day was mere drivel. Still, it was fun and every Keele student should have a spring or summer nighter down the amphitheatre under their belt before they leave Keele.
On rereading my diaries forty years on, I realise it is just as well I didn’t have too much serious academic work or examinations to prepare that term – I was well off the pace in the spring of 1982.
