The reason for Pady’s visit was most unfortunate (the sudden death and funeral of a friend of hers), but the timing proved to be fortunate for us, as the trip made her available to meet us in London on 11 April.
Pady arranged to meet us at The Wiggy after the concert. She arrived a little flustered about 30 minutes after the concert ended. But hanging around at the Wigmore Hall is hardly a hardship for me and Janie (Daisy). It is one of our favourite places. In my case, it is now one of only two places in the world (the Lord’s pavilion being the other) where people still address me as “young man”.
It was lovely to see Pady again. Janie hadn’t met her before, but they hit it off straight away, as I sensed they would.
It was a sunny early afternoon when Janie and I had arrived at The Wiggy but it was raining quite heavily when the concert ended. By the time Pady arrived, the rain had subsided but still looked a bit threatening, so we decided to retire to the new Ivy Cafe in Marylebone Lane for some tea. A very suitable venue; quiet in the afternoon and geared up for dining or snacking.
Pady had checked in to a nearby hotel for the London leg of her journey, so we resolved to find a suitable restaurant nearby. Strangely, Pady doesn’t get to try Lebanese food in Boston. As she is a vegetarian, we thought the major mezzes followed by lesser mains tradition would work well.
John was able to join us at the Ivy around 16:30, by which time I was on to my second little pot of jasmine tea and we other three had already “done scones”. Getting to know you chat then switched to catching up chat.
Daisy and I did some thorough research and latched on to a restaurant named Levant – very nearby, as a good contender and one we hadn’t tried before. The promise of nightly live entertainment didn’t please us, but the idea of the entertainment starting no earlier than 20:30 did, as we were proposing to eat early. In any case, we could always fall back on Maroush if we didn’t like the look/smell of Levant.
As it turned out, we did like the look and smell of Levant. We very much enjoyed our meal and chat there. Very quiet at 17:30/18:00 when we arrived. Staff very pleasant. The mezzes were excellent. The grills less so, but still did their job. John drank beer; Lebanese and Moroccan varieties, while the rest of us showed no mercy to a tasty bottle of Côtes du Rhône.
After dinner, Daisy requested an arabic coffee but was told that, regrettably, the machine wasn’t working and that it would have to be regular coffee. We had a short debate about whether we could be bothered to go elsewhere, which was resolved by the realisation that it was nearly 20:30 already, so the live entertainment was due to start soon.
Where did all that time go? In chatting, reminiscing and catching up, that’s where.
So we ventured out into the mercifully dry evening, soon to find Comptoir Libanais on Wigmore Street. “They should have arabic coffee,” declared Daisy, marching across Wigmore Street, grinding taxis, bicycles and other vehicles to a brief but sudden halt. “Do you have arabic coffee?” asked Daisy as she breezed into the cafe. “Yes, come in sit down,” said an unidentified member of staff.
But it turned out that Comptoir Libanais didn’t do arabic coffee; never does, never did. None of us could be arsed to move again; we mostly wanted to carry on chatting for a short while. So we made do with regular espressos, cappuccinos or, in my case, rose-mint tea.
All too soon, we realised that it was really getting late for John, who still had a couple of hours journey ahead of him, so we walked John down to Bond Street tube and then Daisy and I walked Pady back to her hotel.
It was a lovely afternoon and evening. We worked out that it must be at least 10 years since Pady’s last visit, so hopefully Pady will start visiting a lot more regularly now. Who knows, perhaps as soon as next month. That’s right, in the merry, merry month of May, fa-la-la-la-la…
Daisy and I arranged a Monday off, in part because “that’s quite often what we do these days”, but this one in particular because I fancied this lunchtime concert at “The Wiggy”.
It turned out to be a fortuitous choice of date, as it coincided with Pady Jalali’s unexpected but delightful visit, which I shall report once I have finished this short piece; a link to which should appear, as if by magic, as a ping-back on this one once it is done. (Clever stuff, this WordPress blogging).
Pady toyed with the idea of joining us for the concert, but the train times from Manchester didn’t really work sensibly for that, so just Daisy and I enjoyed the concert, from our front row mafia vantage point.
There was a lyric sheet available for 50p which I avoided. Not for the matter of 50p, you understand, but because making it too obvious that the lyrics were mostly about shepherds, shepherdesses, the merry month of May and a fa-la-la-la-la… would not have added to Daisy’s enjoyment. Worse, me singing along would not have added to anyone’s enjoyment.
The ensemble entered wearing straw hats and carrying a hamper, an old badminton racket etc. The idea was to give the feeling of a spring picnic; an idea that worked better live than on radio, I’d suggest.
There were three examples of modern madrigal in our concert too – the running order is archived here – but for the encore I Fagiolini returned to the safer ground of traditional month of May-type material; Now is the Month of Maying by Thomas Morley. Plenty of fa-la-las to send us on our way.
Twee? Yes. But it was a lovely concert which set us up very nicely indeed for a relaxing afternoon and evening with friends.
I flew from Washington DC to Boston. I recall thinking that internal flights were, in many ways, an easier option than railway journeys on that East Coast in those days. You pretty much just turned up and took the next plane, whereas the trains had been rarer beasts that required some logistical planning.
I did some touring on my own around the port and stuff that first day in Boston:
It was wicked cold in Boston. I had almost forgotten about the arctic weather I had experienced in New York (Washington DC was still warm) until I got to Boston, where it seemed, if possible, even colder. Perhaps I should have stayed away from the waterfront and the scenic views from the top of tall buildings to feel less cold.
I remember going into a music shop to buy Bobbie Scully the latest Billy Joel record – We Didn’t Start the Fire – Bobbie was a big fan of Billy Joel and the record was being played everywhere all the time while I was in the States.
The really memorable thing about buying that record for Bobbie was the reaction of a college boy type who was also in the shop, who said to me in that slightly pompous New England accent (which might be mistaken for mimicking the British accent but I think he was a genuine New Englander)…
…you don’t want to be buying that record. It’s complete crap.
No suggestion that this was an expression of his opinion about the record. It’s complete crap. Fact. Period.
It’s a gift for a friend who is especially keen on Billy Joel…
…I said…
…Oh yeh?…
…he said, in a disbelieving voice.
In truth I don’t hold that song in very high regard – not one of Joel’s best in my view, but that song always reminds me of this holiday…
…and also of Graham Robertson’s wonderful Newsrevue parody, “One Didn’t Start the Fire”, three year’s later, about the Windsor Castle fire.
An Interlude Upstate In Massachusetts
I had contacted Emma Weiss who had suggested that I join her and Betsy Brady for the evening and a stop-over in Marblehead…or was it Lynn?…
…I have a feeling that they lived in the former town and/but the municiple railway took me to the latter town. I remain irritated with myself that I didn’t keep a proper travel log for this holiday – the only extensive trip i have ever made without keeping one. I’m also irritated that I didn’t take my camera with me on this upstate Massachusetts leg of my trip.
Anyway, I do remember Emma coming to meet me from the train. I also remember Emma and Betsy giving me a brief driving tour around that part of the Massachusetts coast.
I particularly remember them showing me Salem – we had some tongue-in-cheek discussions about whether we might all be strung up in that town on account of ethnic origins and/or interesting lifestyles. We decided to dine outside Salem.
Boston was wicked cold at that time, but these towns up the Massachusetts coast were wicked colder still.
I remember having a jolly meal with Emma and Betsy, after which, having just got warm, they said it was time for us to visit a local bar…in fact I think they even use the term “pub” up there in New England.
I also recall how very cold it was at night, especially when someone opened the door to the pub. In fact, whenever someone opened said door the drinkers would ring out a chorus of:
CLOSE THE DOOR! CLOSE THAT F***ING DOOR!
Just as we were getting to the point that I thought we had warmed up and I was starting to feel nice and cosy for a pub sesh, Emma and Betsy said,
Right, that’s it. We’d better move on to the other pub now…
…at which suggestion I wondered out loud whether we really needed to go back out in the cold.
Emma and Betsy politely but firmly explained that they live in a small town and that they couldn’t possibly diss the folks in the other local pub by showing off their visitor from England in one pub but not the other.
Word of your existence will have reached the other pub some time ago now, so they’ll be wondering where we are.
Off we went to the second bar, which seemed quite similar in terms of its cosiness, unpretentiousness and friendly clientele.
Emma and Betsy might recall the names of the bars; I can add links and stuff if those hostelries are still there, which they probably still are…with many of the same locals still shouting, “close that f***ing door” on cold nights.
It was a great fun evening. Emma and Betsy were splendid hosts; it was very kind of them to provide that much hospitality to me. I have also enjoyed meeting them both since – e.g. at Michael Mainelli’s wedding, but it has been a good while since I last saw either of them.
Back To Boston, Brunch With Pady & Midge
The climax of my American road trip was an opportunity to see Pady Jalali in her new home environment of the USA. Pady is of Iranian origin but had acquired a quintessentially English accent while at school and then at Keele with us.
But just a few years in the USA had put paid to Pady’s English accent; by the autumn of 1989 she had acquired (and still has) a quintessentially New England accent.
At that time, Pady was teaching math…
…in the USA they only study a singular mathematic, whereas in the UK we study mathematics, or maths…
…at Umass in Amhurst.
Pady suggested meeting in Boston for brunch, along with her sister Midge.
The thing I especially remember about that brunch (apart from having a delightful afternoon with Pady and Midge) was the demeanour of the other diners.
Pady, Midge and I were engaged in conversation as one might expect when friends gather in a diner for a middle of the day meal.
But pretty much every other table seemed to comprise couples or small groups eating in complete silence. Some seemed to be taking some interest in eavesdropping on our conversation. Others seemed simply to be grazing, vacantly.
In those days, of course, non-conversational diners did not have hand-held gadgetry as an alternative focus for their attention. But in any case, this unengaged style of eating out was alien to me (as it had been to Pady and Midge before they migrated to the USA), although it did seem to cross the Atlantic and become part of the UK culture as well by the end of that century.
Of course we were not to be deterred from our purpose; having a good catch up and making a jolly occasion of it.
The photographic evidence suggests that beer, fags and food were all involved (I had long since given up smoking by then, but I was still enjoying beer and food).
It was really lovely to see Pady again – it had been some four years since she left England. Midge was also very good company that day.
It was a super way to end my two week visit to the States.
I’m not sure exactly when I flew back, but I have a feeling it was the Sunday night red eye and I have a feeling I went straight in to work on the Monday. I wouldn’t dream of doing that now.
Pictures from the Washington DC & Massachusetts legs of my trip (including those above but with quite a few more besides) can be seen by clicking the Flickr link below:
Here is the typed up version, scanned from what I think must be carbon copies. Is there anyone else left on the planet who remembers what carbon copies were?
I guess I prepared these for our glorious return visit in January 1986 for the traditional UGM/AGM thingie.
On top of my Hackgrass reveal antics on our last morning in office, it seems we held some sort of bogus committee meeting later in the afternoon. More a symposium than a mere meeting, by the looks of it.
It looks as though I completed the minutes that December, ahead of our January 1986 appearance at the UGM I shouldn’t wonder, so I’ll publish the typed version at that date. The hand-written version that follows must have been part-written on the day and then concluded later.
Experts at handwriting analysis forensics might be able to work out exactly what went on. John White – I suggest you might choose not to apply for this role, if your attempt at the Hackgrass cypher is anything to go by.
A final extract from that superb memory-jogging issue of Concourse from February 1985.
Ronnie Scott came to Keele several times while I was there. This would have been the last time I ever saw Ronnie himself perform, although I have been to “Ronnies” in Soho since.
My diary records little about the evening (Friday 25 January 1985), other than a statement that I went and a confession “got drunk”. So I am grateful for this review. My memory of at least one earlier Ronnie Scott evening at Keele (probably more than a year, perhaps two years earlier) is better and has a story to it, but I’ll save that story for my diary trawl later.
Janie loves Ronnie Scotts and I have often mentioned to her the wonderful evenings we had at Keele when Ronnie and his band visited. Here’s an independent report on one of those evenings.
I remember Pady telling us about this “Thorns Cock-Up” last time she visited, a few years ago, so it made me smile coming across this article about it when going through this February 1985 issue of Concourse.
I had forgotten (or perhaps Pady even had forgotten) that the unfortunate band that got dicked around was none other than The Pogues.
Lots of juicy bits from the February 1985 issue of Concourse. Here’s the first of them.
Annalisa de Mercur, bless her, was very concerned that the Student Union’s bar licence might get scuppered, which would indeed have been a near-existential problem for the union. The storm was very much of the teacup variety, I’d have thought, for the reasons described in the article.
How Pady Jalali and Hayward Burt ended up in an intra-article debate with the Vice-chancellor, Dr Harrison, is anybody’s guess. Methinks Annalisa might have been trying to big up her piece, as it were.
The health centre fee had been an ongoing issue, if the 1984 manifestos are anything to go by. John “Memory Man” White will hopefully chime in on the comments to describe in intricate detail the nature of the new-look campaign he planned. I don’t remember a thing about it, although welfare was my bailiwick.
Of course Petra didn’t “enter the stage” on 8 November 1984, but that date is her first mention in my diary.
My Education & Welfare portfolio had two key voluntary assistant posts – Academic Secretary & Welfare Secretary. Annalisa de Mercur subscribed for the academic one and was incredibly helpful, both during the late summer when resits and appeals were all the rage…
I have a feeling that someone had subscribed to take up the 84/85 welfare secretary post but needed to withdraw before the autumn 1984 term started. Perhaps it was unfilled all along. But for sure it would have been too much for Annalisa to fulfil both, although she did a sterling job of the pastoral support role with the resit/appeals community and also the early days/weeks of term.
I advertised the welfare secretary role at the start of term and I’m pretty sure Petra, who was an FY fresher, put her hand up quite quickly. She had been helping out in the welfare office and proving her considerable worth in that role for some two or three weeks before…
Thursday, 8 November 1984 – Worked hard today – rushed about – election count [to fill the controversially vacant VP External position] then Petra came over for dinner – stayed till quite late.
One thing led to another.
I was living in the resident tutor’s flat (that was basically two study bedrooms and the end of a corridor combined) on the ground floor of K Block Horwood; Petra’s room was very nearby (H Block I think).
Friday, 9 November 1984 – Union committee in morn and then busy afternoon – Ali’s [Ali Dabbs’s] birthday – all got drunk in union (after chasing assurance!!).
Saturday, 10 November 1984 – Went shopping in morning – went to office in the afternoon – Petra helped and came back for food and stayed late.
Sunday, 11 November 1984 – Rose late – went to office and worked in fairly leisurely style. Early night.
I have no idea what “chasing assurance!!” means – I can only guess that it was a Union Committee in joke at the time. Perhaps a John White-ism or a Hayward Burt-ism for trying to get University officials to commit to a course of action.
You might notice that I was putting in the hard yards – tending to work some (although not all) weekends. I’m sure Petra remembers, as does John White, that my catch phrase was:
I’m very busy!
(Janie might complain, 40 years later, that I still take on more than I should and still bark, “I’m very busy!” with alarming regularity.)
Who? Me? Trying not to look busy, Autumn 2024
John Martyn Gig, Keele SU Ballroom, 12 November 1984
Monday, 12 November 1984 -Busyish day – did quite a lot of work – meetings etc. Went to see John Martyn in evening – latish night.
For some reason, I still have the flyer for that concert. Perhaps it amused me then, as it does now. Perhaps I kept it because I was very keen to see John Martyn again (having seen what was, to me, a less memorable gig of his in October 1981). Or perhaps I’d simply used that piece of paper as a place marker in something I ended up keeping.
Well done Pady Jalali for getting John Martyn at a good price and enabling Keele folk to see him for less than half the price of anywhere else. And well done Pady for emphasising that pricing point. The messaging is SO YOU.
I’m listening to some John Martyn while writing this piece, to get me in the mood.
He played quite a lot of stuff from his more recent albums, not least Sapphire which he was releasing in conjunction with the tour. But he also played a lot from his canon. I remember getting very excited when he played this favourite of mine:
The following video was recorded less than two weeks after the Keele gig, with the addition of percussionists who weren’t there at Keele but with Foss Patterson who was at our gig on keyboards and backing vocals:
If the first piece reminds you a bit of Nick Drake and the second one reminds you a bit of Phil Collins, you’re not far wrong. John Martyn was a bit of a style magpie (in a good way), who hung out with, amongst many others, Nick Drake in the early 1970s and Phil Collins in the early 1980s.
I remember the gig being rather different from my expectation (my knowledge of him was stuck in the 1970s) but I still remember very much enjoying that gig.
In my vague memory Petra was with me at that gig, but that might be a false memory. The diary is silent on that point.
Back To Reality…With A Bit Of A Bump
Tuesday, 13 November 1984 – Not feeling at all good today – went home (sent home in afternoon). Much fuss made and Liza [O’Connor] came over in evening to cap it all.
Wednesday, 14 November 1984 – Pretty wretched day – Senate dragged on and on – not feeling too good – went home for an early night.
Thursday, 15 November 1984 – Hard day – work – met solicitor [John Cheetham] in afternoon. Went to Leo [Hamburger] & Sarah’s party in evening – Petra came back after.
…I was still prone to the occasional “feel absolutely terrible for no apparent reason” spell. Actually, reviewing my diaries 40 years on, I think I can observe a pattern, suggesting that a late night after a bit too much to drink usually preceded such a day or two. I can certainly vouch for the fact that, 40 years on, it only needs to be “a tiny bit too much” drink the night before to make a mess of the next day.
I love the phrases “went home (sent home…)” and “much fuss made”. I don’t really remember it, but I can imagine Kate (now Susan) Fricker and Pady Jalali going into matronly mode, even in their young adulthood. John White would have supported them. Petra too, no doubt.
The home visit from Liza O’Connor (my ex from 82/83)…
…probably did not go particularly well. I cannot imagine that it was anything other than a coincidence that Liza was around to pop in on such a day. I’m pretty sure she was in Manchester studying that term, so presumably had briefly come home (to The Sneyd Arms) for some reason and tracked me down to my new bijou pad. “As if my life isn’t getting complicated enough”…was probably the subtext of my phrase, “to cap it all”.
For the Wednesday, “Senate dragged on and on” and “not feeling too good” gives me a clears sense of how I felt sitting there that afternoon. Kate Fricker had campaigned hard with the University to allow me to be the second SU representative on Policy Staffing & Development (PS&D) committee, which was the place where all the decisions tended to be made. Senate was more of a “rubber stamp or posturing” chamber for most matters…certainly those which had already been discussed in detail and approved by PS&D. For that reason, when PS&D approved items came around at Senate, my heart tended to sink even at the best of times if someone (usually a Professor who had lost a debate at PS&D) went over old ground, loquaciously, for a second and futile time at Senate.
The solicitor visit on Thursday 15th November would have been about the impending Employment Tribunal, scheduled for mid to late December. John Cheetham was the University solicitor – Kate and I had felt unconfident with the SU solicitor who had no real experience of employment tribunals. The registrar, David Cohen, had been helpful in allowing us use of the University solicitors for this purpose. He also took great pains to remind us, just in case it needed pointing out, that we couldn’t use John Cheetham for anything disputatious between the Students’ Union and the University.
“For the avoidance of doubt…” David Cohen 1960s COPYRIGHT KEELE UNIVERSITY
John Cheetham was a very good solicitor and looked after us sympathetically as well as professionally. He also, I clearly remember, was very cognisant of the mental strain that Tommy and Ralph were undergoing and went easy on them…which is more than can be said for Derek Bamford of NUPE’s approach to us…but that’s another story for another time.
As an avid Private Eye reader (back then and still), I was constantly amused by John Cheetham’s name, as a solicitor. He would surely have fitted in well at Private Eye’s fictitious law firm: Sue, Grabbit and Runne.
Leo Hamburger and Sarah’s party. I remember Leo well and recall keeping in touch with him for a while after Keele. He was very helpful in the Education & Welfare office, although he didn’t have a formal role in the way that Petra and Annalisa did. But it was my style to have a team of helpful people. As much as anything else, if the welfare office was to be staffed most of the time during office hours, I needed volunteers to do that while I was in meetings half the day.
I have managed to track down Petra prior to writing this article but have not yet tried to contact Leo, but I shall do so. I hope one of them will remember who Sarah was in this context. Possibly Sarah Hetherington who went on to marry Andrew Moran? Or possibly another Sarah.
Unfortunately we have no photographs from student parties such as Leo and Sarah’s from the mid 1980s. Photography had only just been invented and certainly wasn’t intended for such events back then.
But no matter – I have asked DeepAI to depict an appropriate scene and it has done a grand job of it:
Interesting that DeepAI depicts “UK students partying in a room in the mid 1980s” with mostly food and just a few signs of drink. My recollection, albeit fuzzy, is that it was much the other way around.
No, it wasn’t ALL about those things, but my diaries and the thrust of the early November issue of Concourse suggest that those aspects of student life were quite central, at least around the union.
Late October UGM
If you are geeky enough to want to read about the late October UGM in excruciating detail, I have good news for you; I was geeky enough to upload all three columns so you can click the links and read them:
The aspect I want to share with all readers, though, is the cartoon of Mark Ellicott accompanying that article, which reminded me of the headline photograph and made me laugh 40 years on:
Late October Rent Strike / Rent Delay
I was also amused to read Concourses take on the conclusion of the rent strike / rent delay, which had taken up a fair chunk of our October time.
A week before the end of October, I had signalled in a Concourse newssheet and Pub Circ that we had achieved our goals in pressurising the University into sorting out the accommodation problems and advised students to settle up before the end of the month to avoid late payment penalties.
Not many readers will be surprised to learn that a great many students left it until the last afternoon (31 October) to turn up at the finance office with their cheques.
Naturally, I was kinda busy that afternoon, so it seems that John White (Union Secretary) picked up this particular mantle. The following Concourse piece from early November describes the end game of this episode:
Here are the extracts from my diary for those last few days of October:
Monday 29 October 1984 – Hard day in office plus UGM in evening – had a late night.
Tuesday, 30 October 1984 – Busy day in the office – working hard etc. Worked late – UC, McDonald’s. Earlyish night.
Wednesday, 31 October 1984 – busy day – office/PSD [Policy, Staffing & Development Committee] etc. Did Union disco [with John White] in the evening.
Ah, so John & I were still talking to each other at the end of that fraught day. Of course we were. We’re still talking to each other forty years on. John’s comment on the above article, when I zapped it over to him ahead of writing this piece:
[That article] did make me smile and that’s the way industrial relations should be conducted
Doing Union Discos With John White After Work
I explained how we ended up DJ-ing a lot in an earlier article:
In short, Social Committee in previous years had paid people to DJ at Union discos, but Pady Jalali (our Social Secretary) felt that people would volunteer to DJ discos. John & I agreed to do any discos that lacked a volunteer until those who wanted to DJ union discos saw sense. My diaries tell me that the late October/early November period was “peak disco” for me and John – three in one week including the 31 October disco.
Thursday 1 November 1984 – Busy day in office over grievance and discipline. In evening went to Mel’s [Melissa Oliveck’s] party which was good.
Friday 2 November 1984 – Very busy day in the office. Came down to the union after dinner – ended up doing disco with John Boy.
Saturday, 3 November 1984 – Busyish day – shopping then in office. Ali [Dabbs] came back for a while – then called out to do disco (again!!).
Sunday, 4 November 1984 – Rose quite late – went over to Annalisa’s [de Mercur] for lunch – very pleasant – had an early night (deserved).
Monday, 5 November 1984 – Worked quite hard today – went to Constitutional Committee in evening – easyish evening.
Tuesday, 6 November 1984 – busy day in the office – drinks with VC etc. early evening -> Stoke to meet Kathy [Kathy Barlow, my opposite number at North Staffs Poly] et.al.
Wednesday, 7 November 1984 – Very busy day with meetings etc. Had a fairly easy evening for a change.
Busy days really were busy days. It might be that my allergy to sitting on committees developed in my union sabbatical year, as I probably attended a lifetime’s worth of them in the space of one year. Here’s an extract from my appointments diary that week:
John was also working very hard during the days. The 62 year old me finds it hard to imagine how the 22 year old me had the energy to do all of those things, including stints of highly active DJ-ing several evenings after work.
