I was rummaging through an old copy of Concourse looking for something completely different, when I came across this “freshers” account of the late January UGM.
I was transported back to the event in ways that my diary entries and my own pieces could not transport me.
I hope that this piece pleases some other people as much as it has pleased me. I smiled…I even laughed at one or two 40-years-old jokes.
Alistair (Ali) Dabbs soon went on to become part of the Union, of course, as my “forty years on” account will soon reveal. He was at that time, after all, one of the “Liberals with infeasible names”. He then went on to a career in journalism – who would have guessed on the back of a deft debut of this quality.
Any thoughts on this Ali? – they’d be most welcome.
By way of contrast, my H Ackgrass column, which mentioned the same events in the same edition of Concourse, did so like this:
Pete Wild c1985 – with thanks to Mark Ellicott for the picture.
As had become my habit, I returned to Keele very early in the year, well ahead of the start of term, after lunching with Caroline on the Tuesday and Jilly on the Wednesday.
5 January 1984 – Got up early – bought amp – lazed around – returned to Keele – v tired.
6 January 1984 – did v little all day. Visited Andrea [Collins, later Woodhouse] – she came back for dinner – went on to Union
7 January 1984 – Did litle today – lazed and shopped – visited Michelle [Epstein, later Infield] – went union with Hippo in eve
The “amp” will have been for my parents’ house. I still only had a ghetto blaster at Keele that year.
I don’t remember nicknaming Pete Wild “Hippo”, but I write it that way twice in the diary around that time so it must have been a thing. His initial nickname was “Hippy” on account of his long hair. but there was a certain hippo quality about him, clumsily rushing about the flat, sometimes causing carnage.
The thing I do remember is that I had decided over Christmas to vent my frustration with the Students’ Union committee by writing secretly a gossip column for Concourse. I’m not sure that I had, by early January, settled on the name, “H Ackgrass”, but I had done a fair bit of thinking about my methods of secrecy.
Espionage-Style Tricks: Two Typewriters & Several Collaborators
I had two portable typewriters at Keele. One that I was using for my work, which was a decent quality item, I think acquired second-hand from a departing student the year before. It was a Smith-Corona that looked a little like this:
My other typewriter was a cheap generic which I had bought/been given several years earlier and had bashed into decrepitude – hence my procurement of a better one for my studies. The old generic (ghastly orange case) languished in a cupboard and almost certainly no-one at Keele had seen the tell-tale skew-iffy-look typing that emanated from it. In my earlier, Concourse journalist, days…
The quirky old generic was to be the gossip columnist’s tool (as it were). It was to remain hidden except when used for producing the Ackgrass column.
I also worked out that I would need collaborators…aka spies…to help gather information for the column and help keep my identity a mystery. By necessity, I would need to take all of my Barnes L54 flatmates and Bobbie into my confidence about this idea, as it would be nigh-on impossible to hide it from those people anyway.
That much I’m sure I discussed with Pete on my return to Keele in early January. Pete loved the idea and was keen to be one of my spies. He had already set ambitions to run for Union Committee 1984/85, as had his girlfriend, Melissa (Mel) Oliveck. I recall that those nascent conversations included the idea that Melissa should also be one of my spies, as she was spending so much time at the flat it would be awkward to keep the secret from here. Also, Mel could probably could acquire intelligence on some union people that the rest of us would not be able to access.
Our other flatmates, Chris Spencer and Alan Gorman, were not really involved with the union at all, but would still be helpful foils for testing material and honing jokes. Alan, in particular, enjoyed lampooning student politics and had a wicked sense of humour.
8 January 1984 – busyish day cataloguing etc. Went Union in evening with Hippo
9 January 1984 – Left Keele – went to Liverpool. Went with Bobbie to Karate Club – went on to pub with friends after.
10 January 1984 – Went to Chester in afternoon & stayed in Wallasey in evening – went to pub etc.
11 January 1984 – Went into the City today – shopped etc. In eve B[obbie] graded Karate & I went on after – we went to several pubs etc.
The cataloguing was probably to do with my music – not least my cassette collection at Keele, which was getting large enough that I needed documentary help to find things.
A Brief Interlude On Merseyside With Bobbie
Bobbie was an exponent of Shotokan karate. Rather a good exponent of it. I seem to recall that the grading she took while I was hanging around was for brown belt with two stripes. I had no idea what that really meant, other than the fact that “rather a good exponent” becomes a fair description at that level.
Alan Gorman also took up Shotokan karate at Keele and I understand he continued his interest in it when he moved to the USA some years later. I cannot remember whether Alan was already doing karate when I got together with Bobbie or whether it was Bobbie’s inspiration that got him into the sport. Bobbie can’t remember either, but is sure that Alan was far enough behind her in the karate progress that they didn’t really overlap (e.g. as sparring partners) at the Keele karate club.
I think that early evening session at a Liverpool Club was the only time I watched Bobbie practicing karate.
My recollection of the evening out with her Liverpool karate mates is of a friendly, mostly working class bunch of lads (I think Bobbie might have been the only lass). They made me feel very welcome when we all went to the pub afterwards, while at the same time letting me know that I was incurably southern and “posh”. Bobbie, on the other hand, rather like the character Zelig in the then recent film, slowly but surely morphed from a middle-class-accented lass from Wallasey into a scouse-accented Liverpudlian, “one of the lads”, especially by around the third drink.
The following day in Chester was more genteel, of course.
Bobbie pootled us around in a Citroen that looked a little like the one depicted above. I vaguely remember seeing her in my second year (her first) peering up from below the steering wheel of her dad’s Jag, which seemed a rather incongruous vehicle in Lindsay Hall, but it did get Bobbie noticed. Bobbie’s dad worked abroad a lot and thought (perhaps mistakenly) that the car would be safer in Bobbie’s hands at Keele than untended on a suburban street in Wallasey.
Let’s just reflect for a moment on the fact that, in the karate guys eyes, I was deemed posh, while Bobbie was deemed one of the lads.
Let’s move on.
I don’t really remember the pub in Wallasey, but that is one detail that Bobbie might actually remember when she reads this. Bobbie still spends much of her time up there these days (forty years later), when she is not in London.
I remember warm hospitality from Bobbie’s mum and dad (I think just her mum on that occasion, as dad was away), plus a font of wisdom in the form of their “family retainer”, a Merseyside lady you might choose from central casting to fulfil that role, slightly confusingly named Robbie.
The final day in Liverpool was great fun. Bobbie gave me a guided tour, then left me to my own devices for a while when she went for her karate grading. Successfully graded, we then went on a bit of a pub crawl.
I don’t remember all the pubs we tried – I doubt if Bobbie remembers all that much about it – but I do recall that we ended up in The Grapes.
I’m pretty sure it was in The Grapes where we got roped in to an impromptu Irish sing song, which would not have looked out of place in a Disney-style movie depicting such a place and event.
I vaguely knew what was going on in Whiskey In the Jar and The Wild Rover, but got more than a little confused when “Mush-a ring dumb-a do dumb-a da” and/or “right up your kilt” came into play. I remember trying to get Bobbie to explain to me what I was supposed to be doing/singing and Bobbie telling me not to worry about it and just join in making noise.
I probably sounded as Irish singing those songs as Dick Van Dyke sounded cockney singing Chim Chim Cher-ee. But then I’m not sure how Irish everyone else sounded in that pub.
…yet still felt a bit of an old hand/expert when visiting Liverpool all those years later. It’s that sort of unforgettable place.
…Then Back To Keele…
I expect I broached the matter of H Ackgrass and the proposed spy network with Bobbie while we were in Liverpool…or at least on the way back to Keele on the Thursday. I think she quite liked the idea without really wanting to be involved, other than as a sounding board and one of the group that was in the know.
12 January 1984 – Left Liverpool today – returned to Keele – shopped etc. Met Ashley [Fletcher] in Union & drank – Bobbie came back – had restless night – felt bad.
13 January 1984 – Felt really funny all day – had loads of visitors today etc. Not very well at all. Feverish all night.
14 January 1984 – Didn’t feel too bad in the morning. Shopped and did a few things. Took Bobbie out for dinner in eve – very pleasant evening.
There is a wonderfully memorable episode in I Claudius, when Caligula falls ill and then emerges relatively soon after his indisposition refreshed, announcing that he has, in the meantime, become a god.
Reading those three diary entries, I just wonder whether I emerged from short but nasty-sounding fever fully formed in the matter of my nom de plume, Herbert Ackgrass.
Parenthetically, I also wonder where I might have taken Bobbie for that very pleasant “out for dinner”. I do remember one acceptably good bistro in Newcastle-Under-Lyme but I cannot remember the name. Perhaps the hive mind of readers will help me out with that one.
Be that as it may, having emerged from my fever alive and therefore stronger, the fruits of those H Ackgrass scribbles, or should I say skewiffy typings, would start to emerge soon enough.
John White in the SU Secretary’s Office which was, in December 1983, Viv’s office. “Wouldn’t have happened on my watch”, says John (SU Secretary 1984/85). Photo by Mark Ellicott.
Monday 19 December 1983 – Rose quite late – laundered. Got drunk in Viv’s office – then ate ->Veras [Veera Bachra’s] – pub crawl – stayed in Wolstanton
It’s a bit of a miracle that I’m still alive. I remember even less about the Wolstanton pub crawl than I do about the Barnes L54 one. If Veera was there I’m sure her friend Debbie was there and I guess some of their crowd. Ashley, Bob and Sally might have formed part of that “off campus” excursion but I don’t remember those two social circles ever overlapping…not that absence of remembering that level of detail is evidence of anything.
I’m guessing that Veera and co were living in Wolstanton at that time. My main memory of them is from Barnes but I think they moved on after 82/83.
The pub crawl would no doubt have taken in The Archer and The Plough… perhaps we ventured further than Wolstanton on that crawl.
Tuesday 20th December 1983 – Got up early – left Wolstanton went to ‘Castle – then Keele – packed and left – arrived at Marianne’s [Marianne Gilmour] early evening – stayed in.
Wednesday 21st December 1983 – Rose fairly early – did a few chores in afternoon etc – went to see Rear Window at Hampstead [Everyman] – most pleasant.
That was my first ever visit to the Everyman and I remember it most fondly. The Rear Window showing was, if I remember correctly, a recently remastered print which showed the superb cinematography of that movie in all its glory.
Clearly I was not in a mad rush to visit my folks that Christmas, as I spent three nights at the Gilmour residence in Stanmore before returning to the bosom of my own family. I think Marianne’s folks were away, which is why she and I ran around after her grandparents a bit.
I think Christmas dinner “at The Benjamin’s” was still in Woodfield Avenue that year, but perhaps they had already moved to Putney by then. I expect there were just eight of us around the table – four Benjamins, Doreen’s mother (named Jessie Jackson) and us three Harris folk. Possibly Lisa was already with Nathan by then.
Crumbs, what a busy week. Forty years later, the equivalent week, “just a few sleeps before Christmas” remains so for me, with deadlines to meet and lots of socials to attend.
My business with classes etc. is what one might expect for a finalist at the end of the autumn term. The business with Constitutional Committee will have been about agreeing the process for me to rewrite the union constitution over Christmas. The things I would take on back then! Not sure whether the visit to Malcolm on Monday would have been that sort of student political machination or a chance to decompress over a drink or two…or both. Malcolm might remember but I doubt it.
Lindsay Ball, 13 December 1983
More importantly, does anyone remember who headlined at the Lindsay Ball that December? I was quite a cynic by then, so “v good” as a verdict means that the ball was very good. But who did we see perform? Answers, if anyone remembers, please.
I had managed to avoid Gary Glitter on two previous ball occasions at Keele. My very first freshers’ ball was glitter free due to his indisposition – we had Stardust instead:
Bev Howarth made an interesting choice of support act in King Kurt. They had a wild reputation for food fights and the like at their gigs around that time. Rumour has it that Pady Jalali (who at first sight does not look like someone who could boss King Kurt around) managed to keep them in check for that gig, a display of courage that might have helped her to get elected Social Secretary for the following year.
Here’s a sample of their most famous song and video – which would not come close to passing a political correctness test today, I feel bound to add:
https://youtu.be/aS9uPvAvqc0
Any band with a lead singer named Gary “The Smeg” Clayton is bound to be close to the edge…or over that edge hurtling towards the rocks of opprobrium. Still, next to his namesake Glitter, Gary “The Smeg” looks like a paragon of virtue, I suppose. And I can hardly talk, having gone on to write a parody song about the Zulu leader, Mangosuthu Buthelezi, 10 years later:
I have no recollection which pubs we crawled around, but I’ll guess that The Victoria was one of them and one of the few that is still there. The group that crawled will have been the four of us who actually lived in Barnes L54 at that time: Me, Alan “The Great Yorkshire Pudding” Gorman, Chris Spencer, Pete Wild, almost certainly also my then girlfriend Bobbie Scully (never one to say no to an end of term pub crawl), Melissa Oliveck (Pete’s then girlfriend) and possibly others. If anyone recalls, I’d love to include more details on that event.
I think I can safely say that we visited several pubs in the vicinity and all had too much to drink. Students, honestly.
These images of Keele thanks to Graham Sedgley. How can you be in a blue funk in a place with red skies like that?
Something irked me in the penultimate week of term that year. The diary has more than its usual smattering of negativity.
I cannot remember what would have led to the phrase:
…UGM in eve – sabotaged…
…but that will for sure have irked me.
I sense that I was pretty busy that week with both studies and union stuff and I suspect that, whatever the sabotage was, I thought it disruptive and a cause of uneccessary work on my part.
I know I was already sensing that the 1983/84 committee on the whole was not very good and that there were aspects of the Union that mattered to me that felt out of control.
I also recall planning with Viv Robinson to promote the election season to try to ensure that the students engaged with that process – more on that will follow early in 1984. Similarly, I took it upon myself as Chair of Constitutional Committee to attempt to revise the constitution in order to remove some of the procedural loopholes that were enabling sabotage. More on that anon too.
Thursday – A Liberal Array Of Activities
A moving story if ever there was one
One of the more strange collections of activities is listed for Thursday:
V busy day – odds and ends – helped Ashley [Fletcher] move bed in afternoon – went J-Soc -> Liberal party in evening
I don’t think I am a good candidate for helping anyone move a bed from one part of Stoke to another, especially not a team comprising me and Ashley.
Just the thought of it brings to mind the following short film:
As for the “Liberal Party” later in the day, that would not be the actual political party, of course, but a party thrown by the bunch of Liberal activists who had arrived at Keele that year, who included my flatmate Pete Wild and Hayward Burt, both of whom depicted in the following picture:
Tony Roberts (Conservative), Pete Wild (then Liberal) and Hayward Burt (then Liberal, now Conservative), photo thanks to Mark Ellicott (formerly Conservative but subsequently radical)
My Barnes L54 flatmate Chris Spencer would no doubt have been there, as would Melissa Oliveck, who was Pete’s girlfriend at the time and a regular visitor to Barnes L54.
Friday 9 December – Busyish day – really pissed off today – went Hanley in eve with Ashley – Bobbie’s for a while in eve
I wonder what pissed me off. The Union business? Writers block for one of those pesky essay deadlines? Back ache from helping Ashley to move his bed? Head ache from overindulging liberally at the previous night’s party? Whatever caused it, I don’t suppose Bobbie enjoyed the experience of my mood on such days. Relatively rare in my case but I must have been REALLY pissed off to have noted such in my diary, which was normally spared such emotions.
Saturday 10 December – Busy sort of day. Shopping etc. Helped Ashley move in evening -> Black Lion -> two parties in eve. Stayed B.
The wok and rice cooker depicted are 21st century, but the booklets are 1983
My self-education in the matter of producing decent-quality Chinese food in my own (or should I say Barnes L54) kitchen took great strides forward as 1983 progressed.
I bought the Sharwoods leaflets depicted above at some point that year. I cannot remember which shop “took on” Sharwoods displays with these booklets sold cheap but the Sharwoods ingredients depicted within them sold dear. Was it Sainsbury’s in Newcastle-Under-Lyme? Or was it Kermase, the sort-of wholefood store, sort-of rice-and-spice deli? Or was it some other shop with delusions of grandeur that popped up and then disappeared, because grandeur and Newcastle-Under-Lyme don’t really go together?
Anyway, I treasured those little booklets and the techniques/ideas I gleaned from them. I still delve into them occasionally. But I soon tired of the high prices and small bottles of the Sharwoods range – for me the occasional trip to Chinatown in London to gather large bottles of the requisite sauces and packets of dried noodles at sensible student prices. Fresh won-ton wrappers too, once I’d worked out what to put inside them, as described last time…
The other staple substitute which I used in most of my recipes – certainly the stir-fry ones, was beansprouts. These were available in large packets at a very low price in Sainsbury’s. If you knew what you were doing (i.e. just blanch them or toss them into a stir fry right at the end of cooking) they were tasty, nutritious, went a long way and seemed quintessentially Chinese to us at the time, because Chinese restaurants used them.
I shall write up some of my “Keele Barnes L54” recipes in the fullness of time. This week there’s plenty else to write about.
Here’s the diary for the week:
My pattern well set, I love the radical candour of my Tuesday diary entry:
Tried to do loads today – failed.
Forty years on, despite me being older and allegedly wiser now, I can assure readers that I still often have days like that.
I have previously written up the wonderful evening of music that was the Kitchenware Package, which included Hurrah! The Daintees and to top it all Prefab Sprout. I wrote that concert up several years ago, for reasons explained in the following piece, so some readers following “Forty Years On” might have missed the write up – linked here and below:
One element of the Thursday diary entry is baffling me:
Thursday 1 December 1983: Busy day – union stuff etc. Cooked a meal for Viv [Robinson] – went to {Scarves?…Barnes??} with Kate – to Bobbie’s after.
The meal might well have been one of those Chinese meals at that time. It is also quite possible that my flatmate, Alan Gorman, would have participated in that meal. Alan, Bobbie Scully and (to a lesser extent) Viv were guinea-pigs for my Chinese cooking. More on that anon.
But where did we go with Kate and which Kate was this? My first thought was that the word is Barnes, but it makes no sense to go to Barnes after eating in Barnes, unless I meant to write a more specific address within Barnes and missed out a detail. Was there even a place called Scarves or similar for that word to be. Let’s zoom in on that entry:
Perhaps the hive mind of Keele alums can do better with that appalling scribble than my own addled mind is managing.
But a further mystery – which Kate is this? I don’t recall getting to know Kate Fricker as early as that in the 83/84 year, but maybe I did. She might have been friendly with Viv already by then and Viv might have been grooming her for greater things in the Union by early December. Kate might have been Catherine Emerson (now Cathy Butcher), of course whom we called Kate at that time. Cathy will remember I’m sure…not. I can only ask.
Friday 2 December – …Bobbie’s – saw film in Square – stayed there.
I’m trying to recall what “Square” was. I remember a place known as the Hexagon in Lindsay? Did it shed a couple sides and become “Square” in 1983? Or was Square some other place. The fact that I say “stayed there” and Bobbie was very much a Lindsay person (K Block unless I am much mistaken) makes The Square a Lindsay place. I don’t recall seeing films there but the diary says so. Again others might recall these places and events better than me.
Saturday 3 December – …shopped etc – went Asian do in early eve -> union with Bobbie – stayed there for some time.
“Asian do” was probably Chinese Cultural Society although it might have combined forces with some other cultural groups for a pan-Asian do. I recall that Bobbie had a good friend, May Lamb if I remember her name correctly, who went out with Tony Wong, who was a doyen of the Chinese Cultural Society. May’s family ran a Chinese Restaurant in, I think, Hartlepool.
I wonder what those two would have thought of my Chinese cooking? I don’t think I ever had the courage to try it out on them.
Dave Masten Rosen chimed in on Facebook, riffing with me about “Lee Ho Fooks” and Werewolves Of London. In fact I had mentioned Lee Ho Fook No 2 only a few months earlier:
…but without the associated reference to that amazing song, which is presumably about the then main Lee Ho Fook in Gerard Street.
It then occurred to me that “beef chow mein” was one of my regular dishes to cook in the Keele days, although I often substituted chicken. Of course, the recipe is in that little Sharwoods booklet. Here’s the relevant page, as a closing image. You should be able to read the recipe if you look closely enough.
My activity reads like a fairly set pattern by that stage of the term. A fair bit of work, Constitutional Committee,, J-Soc, the Union…
…I was spending so much time with Bobbie by then, that she is referred to as “B” in the diary on several occasions.
Bobbie had a television set in her room in Lindsay. “…Bobbie’s – watched film…” after going to the union with Ashley will ahve been a film on TV – my forensics identify The Killing Of Sister George as the likely film. I remember having seen that film way back when…no doubt this is when.
Saturday 26 November 1983 – Did some work today. Went out for Chinese meal with Malcolm [Cornelius], Ruth, Bobbie…
I started behaving more grown up by that year, going out for meals in restaurants and all sorts.
I vaguely remember a half-decent Chinese restaurant in Hanley, although i cannot remember its name. Malcolm might remember, as might a random reader. I’m sure Bobbie won’t.
I am fairly sure this was the occasion that I had a eureka moment in the matter of making wontons. My previous attempts had been OK, but not sufficiently special for my taste. This place made wontons with a mix of pork mince, a whole prawn and a smattering of spring onion within each wonton wrapper.
I recall thinking that the stock in this restaurant was a bit watery for my taste, but the wontons were super-tasty. My subsequent “famous” wonton soup recipe was a variant on the simple but appealing formula I worked out at that place.
Several of my friends liked to refer to the dish as “wanton soup”, with emphasis on the first syllable, not least Alan “The Great Yorkshire Pudding” Gorman. Alan, my flatmate, benefitted from my production of this dish more than most for the rest of that academic year. I seem to recall that Malcolm also was (and probably still is) a food pun addict, as well as a chap who likes his food.
…and indeed the rest of that week has little worthy of report in it.
Union Stuff
The diary suggests a fairly settled pattern of work, spending time with Bobbie and spending time in the Union, mostly around elections and such matters. The Chair of Constitutional Committee also chaired Election Appeals Committee and it seems there were elections that week.
The other thing that is clear from my diary that week is that I became good friends with Vivian Robinson around that time. She was SU Secretary (and therefore also returning officer) that year – so we were thrown together ex officio in terms of running elections.
Fortunately we got on well and I think the elections that year ran smoothly – even the one that I ran in…just about. Viv and I remained friends after Keele, not least when she lived on Bedford Hill in the late 1980s, about 10 minutes walk from my parents house. Watch this space for future tales.
Anyway, that week, it seems, Viv cooked me dinner one night and I made her lunch a couple of days later.
Anarchist Bonfire Party, 11 November 1983
I like the reference to going to an “anarchist bonfire party” after dinner with Viv on 11 November. Ashley and/or Sally Hyman might remember some details about that event, but I must admit I don’t remember much about it.
Perhaps it was part of a trend at that time to perceive Guy Fawkes as a radical hero, which, frankly, he wasn’t. Or perhaps it was more an excuse to have a bonfire party a week or so after the conventional Guy-effigy-burning occasion and avoid the unpleasant connotations of all that, by simply having a lively bonfire party, which I’m sure it was.
The Anarchist Bonfire Party won’t have looked like this
The Fall Supported By the Stockholm Monsters, 16 November 1983
This was a pretty memorable Keele gig in my book, as much for the buzz there was around The Fall at that time as the sound itself, which was only sort-of to my taste.
The Stockholm Monsters were a more than half-decent support act, well suited to support The Fall. In 1983 they sounded like this:
The Fall appeared on The Tube just over a week after our Keele gig. Their set on The Tube looked like this:
Andrea’s Party At Bushy House, 19/20 November 1983
By the end of that week I was writing in red ink, reporting on a trip to London. I love the fact that I note that I had a haircut on the Saturday morning. I’m guessing that my mum would have strongly suggested I needed a haircut, probably because of the location of the party I was going to that night.
My friend Andrea Dean was living in Bushy House, Teddington at that time. Her father had become Director of the National Physical Laboratory and a rather sprauncy apartment came with that job.
Andrea c1979
Bushy House is a former residence of King William IV, although I suspect he made use of the whole house.
I remember more than one entertaining party/gathering at Bushy House when it was Andrea’s place. This November 1983 one was especially memorable.
…And Forty Years On?
I rather like the juxtaposition of an anarchist bonfire party one weekend and a party in a formerly royal residence the next in November 1983.
Forty years on, both of those parties were good training for the week that I have just been through:
This is a strange thing to have survived in my document box. I think it has done so because Ashley Fletcher scribbled his telephone number on the reverse.
Still, we see Kate Fricker standing for a minor election, presumably just a few months before she ran for President. Running against someone by the name of Ged, but on this occasion not one of my multiple personalities.
In those days I was very much myself; Chair of Constitutional Committee and Election Appeals Committee. So perhaps I need to ask myself some serious questions about this stray ballot paper. Is that a hanging chad at the top of the slip?
1983 – Long before gender neutrality for conveniences had been invented
I sense from my autumn 1983 diary that I was hunkering down to do a reasonable amount of studying that year. That said, the first two evenings on the page below show me focussed at least as much on student politics. There was a UGM on the Monday, which passed with a mere “OK” from me…
Careless Talk
… on the Tuesday it says I went to Careless Talk. Straining my brain, I think that was an anarchist discussion group, which was colloquially known as “Bob & Sally’s Thing”, much to the chagrin Sally Hyman, and the late (also lovely) Bob Miller.
In truth, it was probably Ashley Fletcher more than anyone who nicknamed the group “Bob & Sally’s Thing”, knowing full well that the idea that the group had leaders or figureheads was anathema to Bob & Sally. It was outrageous for Ashley to nickname the group – it was Bob and Sally’s thing, so really only they should have had the power to name the group. Which they did. Careless Talk.
I think we might have met in The Victoria. Sally or Ashley might remember. I vaguely recall Ashley perpetuating the “power joke” because the chosen place was in Miller Street. I remember Bob especially liking whichever pub it was because it served the best pint of Bass he could find in town. That was an aspect to which Bob would have given a great deal of care and attention.
At the time we possibly thought we might solve the world’s problems through sheer weight of discussion and reasoned debate. Forty years later…it seems we didn’t make a great fist of it. Heck, but at least we tried. And some of us still do charity work to try and patch some of the broken bits back together again – e.g. Sally Hyman and her superb charity CRIBS International – not to be described as “Sally’s Thing”.
The Financial Times
Thursday 3 November 1983 – Lots to do before leaving for London after Election Appeals. Had Chinese meal and stayed up quite late.
Friday 4 November 1983 – Busy day – went to FT [Financial Times] in day – worked on it after. Watched Woody Allen & Richard Pryor film.
I had an Economics dissertation to research (the economics of the pharmaceutical industry – supervised by Joe Nellis – more on that in a future article). My parents were away and the Financial Times, bless them, were prepared to let an undergraduate like me loose on their archive library. In those days, that meant me going to their offices, taking up a desk for a day and the FT allowing me to photocopy and/or print out from microfiche a gazillion articles. Nowadays I suspect they might grant students a free electronic archive subscription for a limited time…or possibly make students pay.
I remember crawling across town to my parents’ house with a couple of bags full of printouts – I probably looked like a bag-person.
Goodness knows where I got the Chinese meal having got back to London after election appeals on the Thursday. I’m going to guess that I stopped off in Soho to eat and got a late bus from there.
I must have got home before 1.00 am because the Richard Pryor Live In Concert movie was shown on Channel 4 at 00:50. I had been dying to see that movie ever since Graham, who worked for a Laurie Krieger’s myriad businesses and who used to drive me to and from Kenton quite often that summer…
…waxed lyrical about Richard Pryor Live In Concert to me on one of our many long chats over the summer, claiming that it was the funniest movie he had ever seen. It is a good movie and some of it is very funny.
The only clip I can find feels more like prescient and sobering documentary than comedy today – TRIGGER WARNING: Richard Pryor uses the N-word a great deal, especially so in this potentially distressing clip.
The movie The Front, which I watched on the Friday evening, I recall having a profound affect on me and I still remember its poignancy. It is about left-wing people who were blacklisted in the US media, especially Hollywood, in the 1950s McCarthyism scare. US potty politics precedes Trump. The film was mostly made by people who had suffered at that time, including the wonderful Zero Mostel.
https://youtu.be/nL4LYkDKLhc
I remember also working hard on my research project and also doing a fair bit of taping on the Saturday and I saw Paul Deacon on the Sunday, who I’m sure presented me with another tape, which I might well go through separately from this piece if/when I have time.
Constitutional Committee & The Truda Incident, 7 November 1983
7 November 1983 – Returned from London – went to classes – const. comm. in eve – stayed down bar – went back to B’s [Bobbie Scully’s] after Truda [Smith] incident.
I don’t remember why the Truda incident occurred. Truda had been the SU president the year before, with limited success and even less goodwill left in the tank at the end of it all, in my humble opinion. I seem to recall that the immediate past President sat on Constitutional Committee ex officio, which might explain why she was there and why I felt some sense of responsibility for helping her post meeting.
I don’t recall anything in the meeting upsetting her – the meetings were orderly and well-tempered throughout my year as Chair as I recall it – but I think that meeting might have brought home to Truda the past-President’s absence of power.
Private Eye would describe her as “tired and emotional” that evening. I remember that Ashley was around. Bobbie wasn’t. At some point, quite late in the evening, someone (possibly one of the stewards) approached me and Ashley because they (or someone) was concerned that Truda had staggered into the Women’s toilets in the main lobby of the SU some time earlier and…not yet staggered out again. There were no women on hand to check the situation out.
I recall Ashley, quite skittishly, celebrating the opportunity to see inside the Women’s…
…I’ve always wondered what it might be like in there. I don’t suppose you’ve ever seen it either, Ian…
I was not really concerned about the aesthetics of the Women’s loo compared with the Men’s – I was wondering whether there would be blood…or vomit…or blood & vomit…
…actually there were none of those things. Just a very drunk, very weepy Truda who needed consoling – so we did our best to console – although frankly neither of us felt especially sympathetic to her (lack of) plight.
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The Victoria – Photo by Rept0n1x, CC BY-SA 2.0
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