The meaning of this image for this story will become apparent if you read on!
Forty years after the event, I can still give myself the collywobbles by reading my diary entries for the weeks approaching my finals at Keele. Economics and Law, just in case you were wondering.
I never have been much use at revising for exams. These were important exams to say the least. I sense that I distinguished myself for these big ones by being proportionately dreadful at knuckling down to revision.
I was, at least, quite brutally honest in my diary as to what I was – and wasn’t – doing around that time.
This multi-part article on how not to revise for your finals might serve as an object lesson to students everywhere.
Let’s start with a transcription from my diary for the first 10 days of April 1984:
Sunday 1 April 1984 – Got up late! Did little all day – Viv [Robinson] came round in afternoon – had nice meal and early night.
Monday 2 April 1984 – Got up quite late – Ashley [Fletcher] came round. Went into town – shopped and went to Ashley’s – Bobbie [Scully] left – easyish evening – went Union with Mel [Melissa Oliveck] for last orders – early night.
Tuesday, 3 April 1984 – Tried to do some work today – not too successfully. Went to Union in the evening with Mel.
Wednesday, 4 April 1984 – Late start – intermittent work – went to union with Malcolm [Cormelius] in the evening.
Thursday, 5 April 1984 – Did some work today – intermittently -big demo against Police Bill [which became the Police and Criminal Evidence Act 1984]. Went to KRA in evening with Malcolm.
Friday, 6 April 1984 – worked quite hard today – shopped etc – went to Union in eve – had a bop!
Saturday, 7 April 1984 – busyish day. Worked quite hard on project today. Went to union in eve – disco etc.
Sunday, 8 April 1984 – Worked on project today after late start. Visited Q92 [my Malay friends] etc. Went to Union for last orders.
Monday, 9 April 1984 = Shopped and worked today. Went to KRA with Malc, Farm [Chris Spencer] and Mel – nice evening.
Tuesday, 10 April 1984 – Worked hard on project all day. Went to Careless Talk meeting in evening, then union, then K41 do.
Some points to note here. Firstly, there are some references to working hard, but they are unquestionably linked to finishing my project – i.e. my Economics dissertation on the Economics of the Pharmaceutical Industry. I am proud of that piece of work, which achieved a first class mark, but in truth it should have been finished before revision time came around in April 1984.
My flat, Barnes L54, had just two of us regular residents: me and Chris “Farmer” Spencer. Pete Wild’s girlfriend, Melissa Oliveck, was there, at least for that first chunk of the vacation, while Malcolm Cornelius was occupying Alan “Great Yorkshire Pudding” Gorman’s room.
One aspect, unmentioned in the diary but which I remember very clearly, was a short-lived tradition of making Irish coffee at the end of the evening on return from the Union. I was reminded of this a couple of weeks ago (March 2024) when my wife, Janie, ordered an Irish coffee after our meal in Petworth (see headline image and below).
“You were a role model…on how NOT to revise…”
I recalled that we were trying to get work done for our finals, so were not spending much time in the bar. Instead, Malcolm and I tried many different ways to prepare the Irish coffee in the flat – all in the interests of science of course.
I remarked to the maître d’ in Petworth that Malcolm and I had concluded that the essential component to make the cream float nicely was the sugar content within the coffee. The maître d’ explained that, to get a full-on Irish coffee to look the way the coffee looks in our photos, you also need to bring each ingredient to the right temperature before combining and use cream with the right fat content.
Back to the drawing board, Malc.
The woeful tale of my attempts to revise for finals will continue soon, after a short interlude next time, to describe a visit that Ashley Fletcher and I made to a Keeley food collective group in Newcastle.
“Welcome To The Top Table”. Picture 1985, with thanks to Mark Ellicott
I claim in my diary not to remember much about this week…John White reports similarly from his diary when he ran successfully for the sabbatical Union Secretary role a couple of weeks earlier…
..yet there are several aspects of that election week that I remember very clearly, forty years later.
The Story So Far…
Just to summarise the story so far – I was quietly trying to ensure that the Union Committee for 84/85 would be a lot more effective and less chaotic than the 83/84 team, which was beset with ructions and (often self-inflicted) problems.
My dream team for 84/85 included my girlfriend, Bobbie Scully, as Education and Welfare sabbatical. Bobbie had other plans and turned out to be better at the Machiavellian stuff than me, ganging up with other friends to turn the tables on me.
I saw Bobbie at the Gresham Society dinner earlier this week (writing in March 2024) and warned her that I would be writing up the story of her stitching me up for this role.
Quite right, except the truth of it was that you tried to stitch me up and the easiest way out of it was for me to stitch you up instead
That’s clear.
A late Renaissance petard. There’s me, setting it off, about to be hoist by it, while Malcolm Cornelius and Bobbie Scully watch from a safe distance
…held me back from campaigning until the last few days of the race.
Other Random Memories Prior To Canvassing
I recall that there were 11 nominations for the role of Education & Welfare that year and all of us remained in the race and appeared on the ballot paper. That was believed to be a record back then and might still be a record.
I hoped to get endorsement from the Liberals and Labour…although I was a member of neither…on the basis that the position is apolitical, no-one amongst the 11 candidates was a member of either party and that my political leanings were (are) unattached liberal-left. The Liberals went for it without fuss…my flat, Barnes L54 was sort-of “Liberals Central” with Pete Wild living there and Melissa Oliveck hanging out there with Pete much of the time.
It was much harder to persuade Labour to endorse me. I had been a member of Labour Club until a year or two previous but had not identified enough with the local MP nor the party line to feel comfortable with formal alignment. One of the candidates decided to try to carpetbag Labour endorsement by joining Labour Club. Truda Smith, by then head of Labour Club, thought that was good enough. Frank Dillon, presumably thinking differently, took it upon himself as Secretary of Labour club to come round and see me in Barnes L54, give me a good grilling and decide who to propose for Labour endorsement. It was the first time I had a long chat with Frank, but for sure it was not the last.
Frank did not say, “Ian Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship…”
…but I did get the Labour endorsement and it was the beginning of a friendship with Frank that has endured.
The Legwork Campaign Began
Sunday 11 March 1984 – Started canvassing this afternoon- hard work. Went to KRA with Vivian in evening after.
Monday 12 March 1984 – Canvassed hard today – went to UGM in evening – left early – went over to Bobbie’s – came back.
Tuesday 13 March 1984 – Hard canvassing all day today – refecs, rooms, etc. V tiring – popped in to see B after for a while.
Wednesday 14 March 1984 – Canvassed hard all day – went Union in eve with Bobbie – came back.
I recall getting advice from Dr Scott on whether my rubella presented a risk to anyone – he gave me a rule to follow ahead of going door to door, which I think would have enabled me to start on the Saturday but I waited until the Sunday “to be sure”. That didn’t prevent one “spoiler” rumour that I was spreading rubella and might cause birth defects were I to infect a pregnant woman while canvassing, rendering me utterly unsuited to a welfare post. I remember being furious about that one.
I also recall some low-level attempts to spoil my campaign by the Tories, who saw me as a Union insider and a leftie at that. I particularly remember Laura Helm and one of her Tory pals trying to delay me and/or honey-trap me by flirting with me and inviting me in when I went to Laura’s door. Didn’t work. I dread to think what might have happened had I taken the bait. I remember Laura telling me after the election that she sensed that I would win it from the way I handled that stunt.
Laura second from left, with “the Tory crowd” – thanks Mark Ellicott for the picture
I also remember Duncan Baldwin, with whom I studied both Economics and Law, telling me that he was going to vote for me despite the difference in our political views, because he sensed that I would be honest and diligent, which he felt was what the Union needed. I remember being moved by that statement and also thinking that I would be well-placed if there were plenty of others who thought like Duncan.
I also remember my Malay friends telling me that they were not going to vote because they wouldn’t be around the following year and that they felt that the matter should be determined by those who would be living with the consequences of that vote. An interesting morality, not one that I shared but I understood it. I thought that factor might run against me if there were too many of my friends who felt that way.
I hadn’t set foot in a refectory for years, but chose to eat in them while canvassing. One person in the refectory told me that they were going to vote for me because I removed my plates and bowls from the tray rather than scoffing from the tray. I didn’t read too much psephology into that event but never forgot the strange exchange.
I oriented my campaign to some extent to encourage overseas students to vote. I felt that they got a raw deal and that there were interests of theirs that I could advocate, both on the education and welfare side of things. Blessing Odatuwa and Bobbie’s friend Lara from Lindsay K Block lobbied the Cameroonian and Nigerian communities (respectively) for me. I knew Tony Wong and others from the Chinese student community well, following several years of joint activities – Bobbie was also well connected with that crowd.
Election Days And Aftermath
Thursday 15 March 1984 – Whole day in concourse – very tiring. Went to J-Soc and on to Union after with Bobbie – came back after.
Friday 16 March 1984 – Big day – Concourse all day (charades at end!!) – result – won – don’t remember much!! Bobbie came back.
Saturday 17 March 1984 – Rose quite late – went off to Lichfield etc – went to restaurant in Hanley -> Union after -> Bobiie’s.
“Don’t remember much” is not quite true.
I do remember Bobbie’s friend Lara, in the concourse, trying to badger some of her fellow Nigerian students into voting for me. Bobbie berated Lara for being overly persuasive – she was virtually dragging reluctant people towards the ballot box – but Lara said, “a bit of political thuggery never did any harm”. She was 18 or 19 years old.
I’m not sure what I mean by “charades”. I was being ultra careful to do everything by the spirit as well as the letter of the rules. At one point, because there was a shortage of people to staff the ballot boxes, I noticed that both Bobbie and Annalisa were the pair on the boxes. Given that they were both actively part of my team, that felt wrong. I remember raising an objection myself, suggesting to Vivian that she must replace one of them in a hurry, only for all the other candidates to tell Vivian not to bother and me not to worry…they trusted Bobbie and Annalisa to behave impartially on the ballot boxes. That’s what happens when you are trustworthy.
Annalisa – a card carrying member of the Union
But hanging around in the concourse was rather dull, especially towards the end of a two-day election, by which time most people had either voted or long-since decided not to bother to vote. So perhaps we actually played charades, as I do remember a good feeling among the candidates…
…at least, there was certainly a good feeling among the candidates before we played charades.
The count took ages, not least because there were eleven candidates and counting was done using the single transferrable vote system. Malcolm Cornelius could explain to you in excruciating detail how that works. Ask him…go on, ask him.
Actually, the voting was quite close among the ten other people in the election, who I think all landed somewhere between 40 and 100 first votes. I landed just over 200. Thus I think the eliminations did need to be done one by one., which is very time-consuming.
I recall being nervous and fretting that I might have needed more first votes than I got in order to win the election, thinking that I might have been a “marmite candidate” who mostly landed only first preferences. At one point I remember Bobbie taking me aside and telling me, long before the result was called, that I should relax because I’d won.
ME: But I might not have enough second preferences…
BOBBIE: Yes you do.
ME: What makes you so sure?
BOBBIE: Because I sat on those blinking ballot boxes for hours and most people did their voting in front of me.
Of course Bobbie as right – the transfers landed in similar proportions to the first votes and my margin kept increasing.
The tallying might have looked a bit like this, only with younger people and no Gerald Ford pipe
The only thing I really remember about the celebrations was being descended upon by the gang from my old Lindsay F Block: Richard van Baaren, Benedict Coldstream and Bob Schumacher, who carried me aloft around the main bar for a while, much to my fearful chagrin. Big units, those guys, they were never going to drop me.
To Summarise…
I got elected as sabbatical Education & Welfare Officer in March 1984. I tried to keep my promises when in office between June 1984 and June 1985.
The extract from Concourse that follows contains the second published column. Unfortunately, I either failed to keep or mislaid my carbon copy of the submission. That second column was cruelly edited, as my whinge in the third column (May 1984) attests.
Unless I find the carbon copy misplaced amongst other papers (vaguely possible but unlikely 40+ years hence) we shall never know the detail of the scurrilous scribbles that were edited out, nor shall we discover which good jokes were cruelly pinched and inserted into other people’s articles in that March 1984 edition of Concourse. Naughty Uncle Quentin (Quentin Reubens, then editor of Concourse).
Anyway, here is the column that did get published on Page Seven of the March 1984 Concourse.
Answer: They all strangely find their way into one week of my diary.
Quite a week, that first full week of March 1984. Once the decision was made that I’d run for Education & Welfare, the campaign went into overdrive. What could possibly go wrong?
Sunday 4 March 1984
Rose quite early – worked a little – spent afternoon in dark room with Annalisa [de Mercur] etc. Popped over to Bobbie’s in eve.
Monday, 5 March 1984
Busy working on manifesto today – got quite a bit done – constitutional committee in the evening – went over to Bobbies after.
Tuesday, 6 March 1984
Not feeling very well today – worked on manifesto today – almost done – went over to Bobbie’s – really felt ghastly!
Wednesday, 7 March 1984
Worked on manifesto today – covered in German Measles. today. Took it fairly easy.
The reason the manifesto was such a time consuming matter was a decision, taken jointly with my campaign manager, Malcolm Cornelius, to produce both the manifesto and leaflet (known as a supplementary manifesto) using digital technology. I wrote this up several years ago in the following piece, click here or the image link below:
Word processing on a University mainframe in 1984 was a non-trivial matter, believe me. Malcolm, who was pretty geeky back then and possibly remains so, could probably explain in excruciating detail what we had to go through to get that job done. Ask him. Go on, ask him.
I merely remember a lot of trial and error and also remember not feeling at all well throughout the process, probably because I had Rubella, commonly known as German Measles.
Younger readers, please do not berate my parents for failing to have me vaccinated – our generation didn’t have a vaccination for Rubella. What was supposed to happen was that you had the disease as a child and then never got it again because the instance of having the disease effectively vaccinated you. Some of us were careless enough to avoid the disease until the fourth year at University – or even longer in some cases – then get it at an inconvenient time…which for me this unquestionably was.
It would have been so much worse had the Rubella presented before the photo shoot. Any spots you might detect on the images from the shoot are either dust or my regular spots and blotches, which were quite numerous when I was in my very early twenties.Please let us not discuss THAT tie.
Thursday, 8 March 1984
Still not very well – spots disappearing – busyish, but took it fairly easy. Finished manifesto etc. Bobbie came over later.
Friday, 9 March 1984
Feeling a bit better today – Bobbie went away – manifesto’s in and supp’s out.– Social Sec election & big appeal over VP internal.
Saturday 10 March still quite tired – has an easy day today – went to Andrea’s party in eve – on to union briefly.
Right, so not only did Bobbie abandon me to run that election…the one I had hoped she’d be running for…but she went away for the weekend ahead of my campaign proper starting. In retrospect I don’t blame her at all, but I do remember feeling a bit miffed at the time.
Although I was a candidate for the following week’s election, I was still Chair of Election Appeals for that week’s election. I sense that the Social Secretary election went smoothly…
Here’s me with Pady Jalali, who won that election. Image Summer 1985 with thanks to Mark Ellicott
…whereas the VP Internal election had some element of hoo-ha attached to it, probably long-since forgotten by all concerned. Hayward Burt won that election and it is just possible that he remembers the hoo-ha.
Me and Hayward in the summer of 1985 – thanks Mark Ellicott for the picture
Ironically, the challenge probably came from the Tories, as Hayward was, in those days, one of the “Liberals with infeasibly strange names”. Hayward now can be found through more Conservative channels. I wonder whether he remembers what the shenanigans were on this occasion. I’ll send this piece to him and ask him.
Update: Hayward Replies…
Thanks for the heads up and the photo (I used to be thin! who knew?)
The controversy rings no bells at all, the result was v close between me and the Labour Club chap and I remember being absolutely knacked with all the door knocking.
“Andrea’s party” on the Saturday will have been Andrea Collins’ (now Woodhouse’s) party. Strangely, a Facebook birthday reminder for Andrea popped up on my FB tab while I was in the process of producing this piece.
Malcolm might have been unusually geeky back then but in many ways we are all geeks now, forty years on.
I’ll send Andrea a “Happy Birthday” message by dint of a link to this piece – Happy Birthday Andrea!
In truth, the first week of this two-week write up is not the most exciting week I spent at Keele. But for the record:
Here’s a translation of that week’s scrawl:
Sunday, 19 February 1984
Rose, quite late – ate – took Jilly to Stoke – returned – Malc [Malcolm Cornelius] came over in eve – went union
Monday, 20 February 1984
Busyish day – UGM etc. to prepare. UGM went quite badly at first – went back to B’s [Bobbie Scully’s] after.
Tuesday, 21 February 1984
Busyish day – did some work etc – went shopping. Cooked K 41 meal in eve. Popped over to B’s in eve.
Wednesday 22 February 1984
Not bad day – worked on Constitution etc – did some work also. B came over quite late – stayed.
Thursday, 23 February 1984
Not bad day – in union – distributed AP [Alternative Prospectus?] quite a bit – did little work. Came back. Went over B’s for awhile.
Friday, 24 February 1984
Busyish day – got lots of odd ends done (??). Went to see Strolling Bones in eve – B came back here.
Saturday, 25 February 1924
Easyish day – went shopping. Didn’t work – went over to Bobbie’s in eve – stayed
I’m struggling to remember who the K41 crowd were. I think possibly Andrea Collins (now Woodhouse) and her gang. Or possibly Viv Robinson’s mob.
Malcolm Cornelius recently commented, when matters of revising the constitution came up on a facebook posting:
I remember spending hours with you going thru line by line and rewriting it into plain(er) English. Pretty advanced for the time. I also still recalling moving procedural motions 38b2 and the like !
That comment of Malcolm’s might qualify as the geekiest comment ever on the Forever Keele Facebook Group 🙂
Regarding the Strolling Bones, or perhaps I should more accurately say Mick Swagger & the Strolling Bones, in truth I didn’t remember having seen them until I found that diary entry. But the description of them – in particular Mick Swagger’s gyrating, brought it back to me.
An extraordinary thing about this act, I suppose, is that part of the conceit of that tribute act playing the student circuit back then was that the Rolling Stones had been going for nearly 22 years – i.e. since before I (and almost all of us) at Keele at that time had been born. Who would have guessed that, 40 years after that, The Rolling Stones would still be going?
Lazyish day – Malcolm came over – wrote essay early eve – went over Malcs -> Bobbie’s for eve.
Monday, 27 February 1984
Busyish day – rotten cold – busy round union etc. Constitutional Committee in eve etc – Bobbie stayed.
Tuesday 28 February 1984
Fairly busy day – did some work etc – popped over to Bobbie’s for a while in eve.
Wednesday, 29 February 1984
Busyish – shopping – working – etc. Popped over to B’s, briefly, in eve.
Thursday, 1 March 1984
Busyish day working etc. Did quite a lot of things. With J-Soc in eve – worked after – B came over late.
Friday, March 1984
Busyish day – election today – and EAP [election appeals] committee – went over to Bobbie’s for while after.
Saturday, 3 March 1984
Shopped etc today – easyish day – photo session in afternoon etc – went to Hanley for Chinese with B– went back there after.
At some point around that time – I think probably on that Sunday in late February, Bobbie and Malcolm turned the tables on me and persuaded me that I should run for Education & Welfare Officer. My plan had been for Bobbie to fulfil that role – she’d have been bloody good at it and was certainly popular enough to get elected – but she had no intention of sticking around at Keele for another year.
I remember at one point hedging, by saying that i would only do it if the right people got elected in that week’s elections. That meant John White as Secretary and Pete Wild as Treasurer.
“I won” says John – photo thanks to Mark Ellicott“So did I” says Pete – photo also thanks to Mark Ellicott
That election on the Friday confirmed their election and I had run out of road with the Malcolms and Bobbies of this world.
I’m pretty sure it was Annalisa De Mercur who did the “photo sesh”. The Hanley Chinese with Bobbie will have been the same one we went to before Christmas with Malcolm and Ruth. No-one remembers the name but Malcolm recalls:
That Chinese was for the time pretty good, I remember red flock wallpaper and the first time I ever had fresh lychees was there. No idea what its name was!
Next time I’ll share with you the results of the photo sesh and other ephemera from that era. I’ll also explain why my campaign was nearly nipped in the bud by an attack of the Germans. Watch this space.
Truda Smith, Kate Fricker & Mark Ellicott, with thanks to the latter for the photo
Another week in which the diary only tells a small part of the story, as my memory dredges other details too, not least the fact that Kate (now Susan) Fricker was elected SU President that week.
Sunday 12 February 1984 – Took Bobbie [Scully] to Health Centre in the morning – not at all well. Odd day clearing up etc – saw film – went Union in evening.
Monday 13 February 1984 – Funny day – tried visit B etc. – let her out in afternoon – went there & Constitutional Committee eve – met Jula [close friend of Bobbie’s] et. al. afterwards
In order to cover my tracks, I was as visceral about myself in that initial piece as I had been about the students’ union protagonists. I particularly remember Annalisa de Mercur approaching me in the Chancellor’s Building, worried that I might be upset by the coverage. So concerned was she and so seemingly unconvinced by my shrugging it off, I confessed to her that I was H Ackgrass and adopted her into the small inner sanctum of spies henceforward. This proved to be a useful tactic, as Annalisa was a bit differently connected to people on the periphery of union politics than my other spies and was unlikely to be suspected as part of an underground H Ackgrass network.
Tuesday, 14 February 1984 – Pleasant day – prepared talk for evening – fairly lazy day – gave talk to Careless Talk in eve – Bobbie came back.
Wednesday, 15 February 1984 – Busyish day about place – shopped – worked etc. Popped over to B’s for a while in eve.
…but I did not in truth remember ever giving a talk to Careless Talk. Ashley Fletcher and/or Sally Hyman might remember what I talked about. It might have been something to do with the economics I was studying (I was deep into the pharmaceutical industry for my dissertation that year) or something to do with my view that reform is universally preferable to revolution.
Thursday, 16 February 1984 – Busyish day – worked, union etc – didn’t get much work done. Went over to B’s – stayed.
Friday, 17 February 1984 – Hectic day – shops – classes, etc. Election count etc – Jilly [Black] arrived – went home and had meal.
Saturday, 18 February 1984 – I showed Jilly around – went to Newcastle – came back – cooked a big meal – stayed in after.
Jilly visiting Keele, but I think this photo was on a subsequent visit later that year.
Kate Fricker winning that presidential election was the first peg in the ground of a seemingly suitable committee for 1984/85. Good people, such as John White and Pete Wild, had already put their names forward for the next round of elections by then too. In my mind, Bobbie would be the final sabbatical peg as Education & Welfare Officer, but Bobbie had other ideas.
Unconnected with union politics, I think Bobbie went away that weekend to see her family. That will have been one of the reasons that it was a suitable weekend for Jilly to visit Keele. I’m not entirely sure who would have participated in “the big meal” I describe for the Saturday, but it might well have included people like Annalisa de Mercur and/or Michelle Epstein. It might well have included my flatmate Alan Gorman, who enjoyed the sort of food I cooked, as did Vivian Robinson, with whom I was very much on dining terms by then. My other flatmates, Pete Wild and his regularly visiting girlfriend Melissa Oliveck were strict vegetarians, as was, I think, Chris Spencer, the other actual resident.
Whoever it was who dined, given that I described it as “a big meal”, Barnes L54 will have been buzzing that evening.
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:
Vivian Robinson, picture by Andrew Thacker “lifted” from Concourse
My diary is useless on some of the memories I retain from this period, so my pieces will, by necessity, be more impressionistic and in some places possibly even vague.
I recall that my discussions with Vivian Robinson (Union Secretary 1983/1984) at that time revolved around so-called Keele apathy and a desire to encourage more students to vote and get involved. Viv was the returning officer and I chaired election appeals, so this was, in essence, our gig.
One wheeze we came up with, I think quite early in January 1984, was to put up a sample manifesto for president, showing people what a manifesto needed to look like.
Being me, I ran with that idea to also make our sample a spoof, in which the fictitious candidate promised a ridiculous amount of infeasible stuff. The tag line at the end of the text below the sample, which explained how the election system worked, read something like:
Whatever your views on the candidates, please vote and please vote wisely.
You can see why I didn’t go into advertising.
We originally called our candidate Piers Witherspoon or something like that, but Eddie Slade, then Senior Tutor, came to us (before term started I’m sure) loving the idea but worrying that there was a real student with a name that was too close for comfort to our fictitious one.
We decided to change the name of the character to Nigel Wisely, enabling a tighter tag line:
Please vote and please vote Wisely
Unfortunately, some students didn’t realise that Nigel Wisely was a spoof and complained to Vivian when the election came around that they wanted to vote for Nigel Wisely but his name was not on the ballot.
Apropos to nothing other than some light relief in this union-heavy piece, who from that 1980s period remembers these two? And who can name them?
Two very familiar, smiley faces. From the same stack of Andrew Thacker pictures as Vivian Robinson’s above (Xmas Ball 1983).
My other labour of Hercules in early 1984 was to redraft the Students’ Union constitution. The extant document had been around since 1970, which, in 1983, seemed, like, for ever. It had more holes than a Swiss cheese and the mischief-makers were able to do smelly things with those holes.
Buried in my personal archive, I have found a copy of the 1970 thing that I consigned to the scrap heap (with the consent of a UGM which was, of course, the sovereign body of the Union). The print within it is miniscule – it must be something like 6-point – accessibility hadn’t been invented back then.
Smaller than A5 per page, the print really is tiny
There are those who might say, cruelly, that making the constitution unreadably small was an act of mercy on the students who might otherwise read it. I am not of that view and “my” revised version was in larger print. You’ll have to take my word for that, because I did not retain a copy of the thing I slaved to produce and get through a UGM. Again, some might say “that’s a mercy”.
Compared with the miniscule print of the 1970s constitution, my diary pages for January 1984 are surprisingly readable. There’s not a lot in there. What little there is, mostly comprises either me or Bobbie being a bit poorly, spending a lot of time together nevertheless and the struggles I was having to get as much done as I wanted to get done.
Yes, the UGM that adopted “my” new constitution was 30 January 1984. They probably still refer to it as Independence Day in Keele Students’ Union circles…or perhaps not.
I shall return to topics such as food and newspapers separately, in a future piece. That’s enough to be getting on with today. Anyone would think I was paid by the word…like Dickens.
Ian Harris aka H Ackgrass…or is this Charles Dickens?
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.
