Tag: University of Keele

Keele End Of Term Absences, Escapes & Horrors, Mid March 1983

The UGM That Never Was (Photo: KUSU-Ballroom-1962-John-Samuel)

Don’t ask me why 7 March 1983 was noteworthy in my diary as “UGM That Never Was…”. Presumably some of us sat around for some time hoping for a quorum but the quorum never came.

Lots of mentions of Liza visiting me and even me visiting her at The Sneyd, so any hangover form my post-glandular-fever grumpiness had presumably abated…

Lowest Ebb On Release From The Keele Health Centre: Occupation Of The Registry & Eurythmics, Late February 1983

…lots of activity and lots of mentions of being busy…although I do recall getting uncharacteristic waves of fatigue for many weeks after my release from the Heath Centre.

Friday 11 March 1983 – Rose early – did quite a lot of things. Alan went home – election appeals – went to see film with Liza – back here after…

Alan’s early disappearance at the end of that term was not ominous or connected with our flatmate choice issues the week before…

Project, Plesch, “Bloody Party In Union” & How The Great Yorkshire Pudding Got His Name, Late February To Early March 1983

…I think Alan had some serious partying to do back home that weekend and had finished all of his course work for the term that Friday. I recall that Alan returned to Keele several weeks later looking a whiter shade of pale green, having been out on the lash with his mates just before returning to Keele. I wondered whether a single binge-boozy-party had been sustained throughout all of those weeks and asked him that very question.

ALAN: Feels a bit like that today.

ME: You look a very funny colour, to be honest.

ALAN: You haven’t exactly looked rosy-cheeked yourself lately, mate.

ME: Fair point.

But I digress.

I’m irritated that I didn’t write down the name of the film that Liza and I saw that night – but I needn’t have worried. A private message to Tony Sullivan, Filmsocista extraordinaire from that era, secured the vital piece of information.

Escape From New York. Ah yes, I remember it. Action/Sci-Fi. Not to my taste. Set in the distant future…1997. Manhattan is by then a high security prison and the US President’s plane crashes on the island. Slogans: “Once You Go In You Don’t Come Out” and “Some Guys Don’t Believe In Rules”. [Forty years on, by all means insert here your own topical joke about a rule-averse US President potentially incarcerated in New York.] But I’m digressing again. Anyway, thanks Tony.

More memorably, the next day…

…Liza, Mandy and I went to Hanley, saw Rocky Horror…

This must have been the Theatre Royal Hanley production – the theatre had just reopened in a new guise and I think we saw a pilot or preview version of the production of Rocky Horror that ran there for years. There is a wonderful web page of memories from that production on this “Memories Of Theatre Royal Hanley” WordPress site. (If anything ever goes awry at that site, here is a scrape.) Also this newsreel footage from when the resulting touring production closed in 1988. Lots of Keele students must have seen this show in the 1980s:

I had seen the stage production of Rocky Horror in London in the late 1970s with my BBYO pals, so felt very much “ahead of the curve” in the company of Liza and Mandy that night – a rare feeling in the matter of the arts with Liza and her “art school crowd”.

To add to the horror, I did a class test on the Tuesday morning (15th March) which must have been the formal last day of term as I signed on 16th March. [For younger readers who haven’t been following this series avidly for years, “signing on” was something students all needed to do each holiday if we wanted in effect to have our grants extended to cover holidays. The thought of the bureaucracy required to have most higher education students signing on and off the dole three times a year is truly mind-boggling.]

Friday 18 March – Easyish day – did a little work – watched TV in eve with Hamzah and Yazid.

Hamzah Shawal was my Bruneian flatmate. Yazid was one of the Malay guys who lived in a Q-Block Barnes flat with three other Malay guys, not too far away from our Barnes L-Block flat. I have no idea what we watched, but it is interesting that it was such a rare thing for me to do that I noted the fact that we watched TV. We might well have watched The Tube early evening, as Bono was interviewed that day:

I’m pretty sure this would have been one of the rare occasions I cooked for the South-East Asian gang, rather than them cooking for me. They were quite strict on Muslim dietary laws, which rather restricted my meat-based diet.

However, I did have a couple of tricks up my sleeve which satisfied their religious structures. I always had a supply of Osem Chicken Soup Mix

Picture borrowed from Amazon, which sells this stuff

This product is not only kosher but it is actually vegetarian, allowing me to make chicken soup & kneidlach (Matzo Ball Soup) for vegetarian and carnivore friends alike.

With thanks to Dall-E for collaborating with me on this image

My other piece de resistance for the halal & veggie crowd was potato latkes:

Again Dall-E produced this image based on my instructions.

If or when I can find my mother’s yellowed, hand-written pages of instructions for these delights I’ll publish the recipes. Hers were variations on the traditional Florence Greenberg & Evelyn Rose recipes.

Cheap, cheerful and heart-warming food.

Saturday 19 March 1983 – Liza came over in morning. Went to meet Julie -> Mike & Mandy’s -> dinner -> cam home quite early.

Sunday 20 March – Rose quite late – went down to lakes & back to Sneyd. Visited Ashley later.

I’m so glad that Ashley gets a mention that fortnight – albeit right at the end. Ashley has been known to complain if there aren’t enough pieces about him.

Project, Plesch, “Bloody Party In Union” & How The Great Yorkshire Pudding Got His Name, Late February To Early March 1983

Thanks to Susan Gorman for this photo of Alan Gorman

A week after my discharge from the Health Centre, my post-glandular-fever student life reads, in my diary, a little like my pre-glandular-fever student life, with just one or two clues hinting at the differences.

Project

Several mentions of “project”, which can only be the statistical/econometric assignment that we were set as part of our economics course that year. Peter Lawrence would have supervised it and I’m sure he remembers all the intricate detail.

Peter Lawrence

Actually, I remember my chosen assignment quite well. I looked at national statistics, examining the correlation between factors such as GDP and per capita GDP and numbers of radios and television sets per capita. The main conceit of the assignment was to consider whether I was finding true correlation or spurious correlation, primarily using the Durbin-Watson statistic which, as it happened, was available on the University Mainframe computer.

The analytical part of this project was fairly straightforward as I recall it. The grunt work involved setting out the data in a highly-specific format to enable the computer to pronounce on its Durbin-Watson statistic. What are, today, “work of a moment” tasks took hours of painstaking (and sometimes trial and error) data preparation and data processing work.

I have asked Dall-E to help me envisage what that 1980s University mainframe computer might have looked like:

Dall-E reminisces about 1980s computing

For those readers dying to know whether there is (or rather, was) true correlation between GDP and numbers of radios and TVs, the answer is, basically, yes; especially when using GDP per capita data and especially in the matter of radios. In the developing world, at that time, televisions were sparse enough that I suspected the numbers were more to do with government policy on whether to have a state broadcaster and the like. Also there did tend to be some interesting outliers in the data – for some reason there were an enormous number of radios sold in Gabon in the late 1970s and early 1980s, relative to the GDP per capita.

I think Peter liked my little study, because, while “answering the exam question” pretty well, it also raised far more questions than it answered.

Plesch, Monday 28 February 1983

Traudi & Peter Plesch – picture borrowed from the tribute linked here.

I have written previously about the hospitality provided by Professor Peter Plesch and his lovely with Traudi, which I enjoyed when they occasionally played host to J-Soc (Jewish) students.

Memories, Angels, Wizards & Plesches, Keele University, 1 to 7 November 1981

I have but one memory specific to this occasion, which I recall Annalisa de Mercur referring to many times subsequently, because she thought it so funny and typically Plesch.

One student asked if our hosts would mind if they smoked. (It was certainly not me by then, as I had quit smoking on the back of my glandular fever. I don’t think it was Annalisa either).

Oh yes, of course, please make yourself at home…

…said Traudi, ever the hostess, who then spent at least five minutes bustling around the room opening windows (this was February, at Keele!), moving away precious-looking porcelain ashtrays, replacing them with utilitarian-looking ones. In short, despite her instinctive desire to make the smoker(s) feel at home, Traudi’s actions made it quite apparent that smoking was not exactly what she wanted in her living room.

They were in truth charming and generous hosts, the Plesch couple. The above-linked November 1981 article says plenty more that doesn’t need repeating here.

“Bloody Party In The Union – Left Early” Friday 4 March 1983

Not like me to be snippy about a party, but I guess I was not myself still at that time.

Dr Scott had told me to stay away from alcohol for six months following my glandular fever. He subsequently reduced my sentence to three months, for good behaviour.

The mention of the “bloody party” comes after a note about a rushed day and an election appeals meeting, both of which might have set my teeth on edge ahead of that particular bloody party.

I have no idea whose party it was, nor why I found it bloody. I apologise to the host of the party if someone reading this happens to be such a person. I don’t think it was about you/.the party, it was me.

In truth, at that time, quite possibly I found all parties a bit of a drag. Seemingly everyone else having a good time and getting noisily paralytic, while I nursed some ridiculously expensive yet ghastly-tasting soft-drink, which had no doubt been dispensed through a soda gun like the one below…

Soda Gun wka, CC BY-SA 2.0

…those carbonated soft drinks never tasted like “the real thing”, if you get my meaning, even if they were sold as such. In the SU Main Bar at that time, indeed, they all tasted like a bit of an amalgamation of each other, which is probably what they were.

When not in bars or at parties, I had standardised at home on Sainsbury’s Tropical Fruit Drink (still available 40 years later)…

…and giant cans of Coca Cola known as Supercans – now no longer made, I believe, so to see such a thing, you’ll need to click this “can museum” link.

I wondered out loud with Dr Scott on one occasion whether it was OK to be drinking all this sweet stuff. He said he thought I was close to dangerously underweight at the end of my glandular fever experience; thus he was keen for me to put on some weight. I persevered with Supercans of Coke throughout the rest of my Keele years, even after I had reverted to drinking alcohol.

How the Great Yorkshire Pudding Got His Name, Early March 1983

The Great Yorkshire Pudding

There is no mention of the events that led to Alan Gorman acquiring the nickname “The Great Yorkshire Pudding”. At the time, I probably found the matter that led to it too painful to write down. Even now, I’m finding it hard to compose my thoughts about it and reflect on the matter fairly and faithfully. It doesn’t help that Alan Gorman sadly died in 2015, so cannot add his own thoughts on this matter forty years after the event.

The bare facts are these. Chantelle announced that she wanted to move out of the flat, Barnes L54, and that we should seek a replacement fourth person. Alan and I had already agreed that we would continue to flat share the following year. Hamzah, who was about to do his finals and had planned to go home as soon as they were done made it clear that it was entirely up to me and Alan to choose Chantelle’s replacement.

Ashley Fletcher was spending a lot of time at the flat in those days. He was Union Treasurer but living off campus, so it was a convenient place to hang out. He was good friends with my girlfriend, Liza (indeed Liza and I had more or less met through Ashley and his gang) and seemed to get on very well with Alan too.

Ashley wanted to move in to the flat. I wanted Ashley to move into the flat. I put the idea one evening to Alan.

Ashley back then

Alan basically said no. He was uncomfortable with the idea of having a gay flatmate. At one point he said that he wouldn’t be able to explain it to his friends back home. When I said that I thought that was not a good reason, he agreed that he had given a very poor reason, but still, without really being able to articulate why he felt uncomfortable, that he was resolute on the matter.

I remember feeling that I didn’t have the strength to argue and also at the same time realising that debating the matter for longer would in any case have been futile. I remember going to bed that night very upset and I also so clearly remember dreading telling Ashley the news.

Strangely, Ashley didn’t take the news as hard as I thought he would…nor as hard as I took it. In my naivety, perhaps, I had assumed that the idea would fly and hadn’t expected that outcome. Ashley had strongly suspected and at least half-expected that response.

When I told Ashley what Alan had said, Ashley just paused for thought momentarily and said:

The Great Yorkshire Pudding!

Those readers who don’t know anything about Alan Gorman might look at the picture I have used in this piece – Alan was even skinnier in 1983 than he was when that picture was taken a few year’s later. He was also from Brinscall, near Chorley, which is, unequivocally, in Lancashire, not Yorkshire.

The nickname, The Great Yorkshire Pudding, stuck, at least for the remainder of that academic year and the next one. Alan accepted with good grace that the expletive nickname had come from Ashley’s heart and that he sort-of deserved it. Alan would respond with a nickname of his own for me, “Bagel Boy”, which could get him into a spot of trouble today, not only with the authorities (had someone chosen to complain) but with Alan’s own wife and children!

Alright already, I like bagels…who doesn’t?

The epilogue to this story is, I suppose, not so bad. I remained friends with Alan and Ashley. Chris Spencer moved into Barnes L54 with us instead and proved to be a very suitable flatmate, staying on in the flat for the rest of my time there and I think until he graduated.

When Ashley dropped out of Keele the following year, I wondered whether that would have happened had he moved into our flat. Ashley of course is still around to debate that point and/but Ashley might argue that leaving Keele at that juncture was the right thing for him to do in any case. He has certainly gone on to do many worthwhile things, not least his laudable and often charitable work as a therapist.

But at the time, the story of How The Great Yorkshire Pudding Got His Name affected me deeply. I wish the older and wiser version of me could discuss it now with the older and wiser Alan. Perhaps over a smoked salmon bagel or two…and a glass or two of fine Californian white wine.

Lowest Ebb On Release From The Keele Health Centre: Occupation Of The Registry & Eurythmics, Late February 1983

A picture of a Keele Registry occupation, but probably 1970s, not “ours”, borrowed from the Keele Oral History Project.

The diary suggests that I was feeling really low and still poorly during those first few days out of the Health Centre. The short-term improvement of mood arising from my release soon morphed into realisation that there was a longish haul to recovery of my normal energy levels and high spirits.

The interesting day that week was the Wednesday, when I found myself at the occupation of the University Registry by day and at a Eurythmics concert in the Union by night.

Avid readers of this Keele series on Ogblog might recall that, in the previous November, the Keel Action Group, fronted by me of all people, got a resolution through a UGM to mandate an occupation.

Dating, Mandating & Catering To Scale At Keele, Mid To Late November 1982

That mandate was more than somewhat against the will of the Union Committee, under Truda Smith, who wanted to do something else (or possibly nothing at all) about the grant cuts.

I don’t think we mandated the Registry as the building to be occupied and I certainly was not involved in the planning of the event. I was persona non grata with Truda and her hench-folk by that time and in any case I was sick with glandular fever when the event bubbled to a head.

Dr David Cohen, a larger than life character recognisable for sporting large bow ties, had, only the previous term, switched from being the Senior Tutor (latterly referred to as Director of Studies) to being Registrar.

David Cohen 1960s COPYRIGHT KEELE UNIVERSITY – picture borrowed from a tribute to David which can be viewed through this link

I don’t suppose he was overjoyed at having the Registry occupied so early in his tenure. It was nothing personal – the Registry seemed to be the obvious place to occupy for such matters – partly because it was the centre of University bureaucracy and partly because it was centrally located on the campus and easy to occupy given its strange mix of formal construction and strung-together prefabricated Nissen hut-like structures.

I recall David being very suspicious of me when I became a Union sabbatical – I suspect he thought I was rabidly radical. But we found ways of working together quite quickly; he was open-minded enough to change his mind about people if the evidence was there for such a change. I was sorry to learn that he died in 2022, just shy of 40 years after the “historic” occupation of his office..

Frankly, 48 hours after my release form the Health Centre I wasn’t really up for it. I felt that I should show my face but probably looked like the ghost of occupations past; I had lost lots of weight (from a fairly skinny start) with my illness and I suspect that my skin colour was more yellow/green than ruddy/pink.

All I really remember was hating how I felt in that cramped, poorly ventilated space and sensing that pretty much everyone realised that I shouldn’t really be there, so I didn’t stay all that long.

I collaborated with Dall-E to produce the following artists’ impression of the event.

Not bad, Dall-E, but this lot look a bit better dressed than 1980s Keele students

The Eurythmics concert in the Union was a big deal for my girlfriend, Liza O’Connor. She was into synthesizer-based music and Eurythmics was one of the groups that everyone in the art school world was talking about.

Photo by Elmar J. Lordemann, CC BY-SA 2.0 DE
This is how Eurythmics looked in 1987 – not much different from their 1983 look

Indeed, the SU had timed their booking of Eurythmics to perfection. Their first hit, Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This, had come out a few weeks earlier and was climbing the pop charts at a rapid rate. Liza was really excited about the prospect of this gig and we deemed it to be our postponed Valentine’s Night.

However, the sweet success of Sweet Dreams also brought with it some logistical issues. If I remember correctly, Eurythmics had been called at the last minute to record a video or performance of the song or something, on the very day of our gig. The result was a very late concert indeed. I think the warm up act did their thing and then went home and we the audience were kept waiting a long time for Eurythmics.

I seem to recall Liza really liking the gig, but I was half-dead on my feet by the time Eurythmics showed up. I think it was quite a short set, book-ended by Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This. I remember being grateful for the brevity and not really enjoying the show, which is a shame.

Latterly I saw a lot of Annie Lennox; she was a regular at my health club in the 1990s and early 2000s and thus we became nodding acquaintances, even “hi and bye” folk in the neighbourhood.

I wish I’d seen her perform on a more suitable night.

Picture by Helge Øverås, CC BY-SA 4.0

I should imagine I slept well after that tiring day but I doubt if I had sweet dreams while in that glum mood. I don’t suppose I was good company for Liza when I was that gloomy and poorly, which might explain why she left me alone until the Sunday. On that day, the diary says that she came over for the evening and that we went to see Ashley [Fletcher] after.

I’m glad Ashley gets a mention in the diary that week. I have recently (forty years on) corresponded with him, not least about aspects of this period. Ashley complained that there aren’t enough pieces about him. Actually, for aficionados of Ashley Fletcher stories, e.g. Ashley, that will be rectified in the next episode.

Isolation, “Socially-Distant” Visits, Steroids, Peculiar Reading Matter & Strange Happenings: A Week In The Keele Health Centre With Glandular Fever, Mid February 1983

Annalisa (right) & Others, Keele Campus Store, c1985, with thanks to Mark Ellicott

I hadn’t had flu. I didn’t get better after being sent home from the Health Centre with some tablets. I got worse.

Saturday 12 February 1983 – Variable health – Liza [O’Connor] shopped for me – Annalisa [de Mercur] visited. Early night.

Reading that passage, plus some of the subsequent ones during my illness, I am reminded that I had several kind people in my circle, in addition to the attentiveness of my girlfriend Liza, who I particularly remember as having been considerate during my extended indisposition.

Sunday 13 February 1983 – Felt bit better this morn/afternoon. Evening came over all ill. Early night.

Monday 14 February 1983 – Schlepped straight back to [Health Centre] HC – pretty ill. Liza visited in evening.

I don’t think that was in line with the plans Liza and I had laid for Valentines Night. I was mightily hacked off as well as ill.

I have collaborated with Dall-E to create this virtual-artist’s impression of me looking ill and hacked off in the Keele Health Centre.

Dr Scott now suspected that I had infectious mononucleosis, also known as glandular fever. His suspicion was soon confirmed with a blood test.

Glandular fever was sort-of the 1980s equivalent of Covid 19 – it was not as well understood then as it is now. The medics were very fearful of epidemics amongst student populations, for some unknown reason. It was also known colloquially as French-kissing disease, although I’m sure there were other ways of getting it and no doubt French people knew of it colloquially as the English-something-or-other.

One side effect of that illness is to make the patient feel low, to the point of feeling depressed. I have to say that my only ever experience of feeling what I might describe as “depressed” was when I had glandular fever.

Tuesday 15 February 1983 – Still pretty ill today – bored and depressed – won’t let have visitors.

Didn’t they know who I am?

I was not a good candidate for isolation. Nor was I a good candidate for some of the clinical interventions required, such as blood tests and injections. Dr Scott – Scotty – was sympathetic yet firm. But there was one matron/nurse I particularly remember as being dragon-like, whose method was more of the cruel-kindness variety.

“If you don’t stop making a fuss, I’ll go and get my long rusty needle and use that on you instead”.

Who’d imagine such inhumane words in such a benevolent setting?
Picture “borrowed” with thanks from the Keele University website

Note to students of psychology: that sort of shock therapy doesn’t work on trypanophobic people – at least it didn’t work on me.

Scotty at that time had a “kill or cure” therapy for glandular fever – a short sharp (high dose at first but rapidly decreasing) course of steroids. His theory was that it helped most people to get better quickly enough that their studies needn’t be deferred, whereas without his treatment many students ended up deferring their exams – in effect taking a year out of their studies, which I certainly didn’t want to do. For some people, the cure made their symptoms worse, but “kill” is too strong a term, as the drugs were only given under health centre supervision and would be stopped/reversed if serious adverse effects came into play.

The steroids worked on me without any serious side-effects, although they did have a strange effect on my being, which I’ll return to explain a bit later.

Wednesday 16 February 1983 – Moved into a room with James – got visitors today – Liza and Michelle [Epstein] – feel somewhat better.

Thursday 17 February 1983 – Several visitors today inc. Liza – feeling much better today – fair bit bored still.

James was a rather strange fellow. He was not merely depressed about having glandular fever and being isolated in the health centre with me. He absolutely hated Keele. He had a girlfriend who also absolutely hated Keele. Together, they had found a way of making their University life tolerable – basically by going away from Keele together every weekend – primarily to visit historic churches, if I remember correctly.

e.g. St Peter’s Church, Wormleighton, Warwickshire

“Got visitors” was a rather strange, socially-distanced thing while I was in this isolation wing with James. The visitors were not allowed into the health centre to visit us – they could stand at a window outside our room and we could talk to them through that window. I vaguely remember that there was an element of elevation to our room, with an inadequate mound upon which our visitors might stand. Thus it was harder for me to chat with vertically-challenged visitors, such as Annalisa, than it was to speak with the more vertically-assured, such as my lanky (in several senses of the term) flatmate, Alan Gorman.

James’s only visitor was his young-lady-friend, who would join him for a mutual moan about once a day. Their shared beef was that they would be unable to escape the Keele campus together at the weekend and visit churches again until James was better.

My visitors were more numerous (several daily) and a more diverse bunch.

Friday 18 February 1983 – Still bedridden – feel much better – getting a fair bit agitated. Liza and others visited today.

I’m not sure which of the “multiple visitors” days included Ashley Fletcher, but I do remember him bringing with him some reading matter for me – I suppose technically he smuggled it in to me by throwing the reading materials to me, where I caught them at the window. It was either Miriam or Heather who was, through Ashley, lending me the booklets in an attempt to help relieve my boredom. The booklets were basically lesbian porn story magazines.

I’m not sure I was ever qualified to offer lit-crit of that reading matter…nor lit-clit come to think of it. Forty years later, the memory is dim, but I did read a few of the stories which were, to my mind, very predictable tales with almost identical plot lines. An unlikely encounter would suddenly, “unexpectedly” result in a shared realisation followed by an almost identical outcome – **SPOILER ALERT** – a sex romp. Sometimes it was two females, sometimes two females and a man, sometimes several people with a focus on the females. I suspected that the same stories were probably gender-reassigned for other similar publications targeted at other groups, with some “characters” (characterisation was in truth almost entirely absent) simply having the name, gender and some small aspects of their dénouement activity changed.

The reading material was absolutely nothing like this wonderful novel

I do remember trying to discuss with my sole companion in isolation, the church-loving James, how peculiar and dull, rather than exciting, I found these story books. But James was simply horrified and disgusted by the presence of these booklets in our room.

Still, I was really touched by the thought and the effort that Ashley and the lenders of the material put in to try to cheer me up and help alleviate my boredom. I do remember Liza finding the whole episode hilarious.

Meanwhile, my use of the word “agitated” might well have been written to remind me of the peculiar effect the steroids had on me. I think that effect might have come to its peak the next day, by which time I think James had been released.

Saturday 19 February 1983 – Let me get up for first time today. Sat in lounge – very exciting. Liza visited.

Dragon Matron – yes she of the long rusty needle threat- came in to my room. I remember suddenly feeling a hot flush and thinking, “she’s not actually that bad looking”…

…the outcome was extremely swift, hands-free, involuntary and I am pretty sure indiscernible to anyone other than me. But it was a seriously weird feeling.

I have asked my friend, Dall-E, to help me to illustrate the scene:

Nothing to see here

In truth the care team in the Health Centre were very kind and really were trying their best to make our lot tolerable.

That Saturday evening, when they let me sit in the lounge, I remember that they had identified another student, a Spanish guy who was, I think, called Miguel (I knew him through Rana Sen and that lot), who knew me. So they arranged for us to watch TV and have a juice together in the lounge, before they served us dinner together restaurant style. It really did feel like a release from isolation by then, although in truth Miguel and I didn’t know each other all that well and mostly discussed how nice it was of the staff to be making that effort for us.

The Tv programme we watched together was Dynasty, which I had never seen before nor have I seen it since. I thought it was incredible – by which I mean that I could not really suspend my disbelief to engage with the programme. I think Miguel quite liked it.

Sunday 20 February 1983 – Let me out for a walk or two today. Very exciting.

Monday 21 February 1983 – Discharged from HC today – got busy laundry etc. Liza came over in evening…

In my impressionistic memory I was isolated in the Heath Centre for ages. Intolerable ages. It came as a bit of a surprise to work out, from my diaries, that a week was all it took to be “intolerable ages” when I was 20 years old.

A Week When Everything At Keele Made Me Feel Sick, Even Smoke-Filled Rooms & Students Union Politics, 6 to 11 February 1983

Picture “borrowed” with thanks from the Keele University website

The following diary entry is the first clue that something was wrong:

Sunday 6 February 1983: Rough night – felt ill in morn. & all day – wrote essay in eve nonetheless

It didn’t get better – for the next couple of days my ill health was the only topic in my diary. I have hardly any photos from that era, let alone “lolling around feeling poorly” ones, so I commissioned Dall-E to reimagine the scene:

Monday 7 February 1983 – Pretty ill today. Stayed away from classes – early night – not well.

Tuesday 8 February 1983 – Pretty ill still – went to Health Centre – put on tablets. Came home – stayed in – early night – quite ill.

Actually I have very powerful memories of that 8 February 1983 evening. Everyone else in the flat went out or did their own thing. I stayed home and watched the movie The Harder They Come on Channel 4. I remember thinking it was a fabulous movie, despite the fact I felt so ill. Forty years on, it is available on-line so anyone can watch it. The music is awesome if you like ska and reggae.

https://youtu.be/j9U1zc8ys-Q

The other thing I especially remember about that evening is that I persevered with smoking even though my throat was incredibly sore.

By that stage of my short tobacco smoking career, which had started in 1979 in Mauritus…

Gris-Gris, A Wedding Feast And More, Mauritius, 21 July 1979

…my choice of smoke had degenerated from cigarillos on a beach in Mauritius, via conventional cigarettes for a couple of years, to low cost roll-ups:

SirGrok at English Wikipedia, CC BY-SA 2.5

Anyway, I soon had time on my hands in the Health Centre to reflect on the stupidity of this practice. Hence I know that I smoked my last cigarette of tobacco while watching that movie that evening.

Interesting also that the TV listings tell me that the movie finished just before 23:00 – after which I would have gone to bed. At that time, this met the definition of an “early night”.

Wednesday 9 February 1983 – Came into Health Centre – pretty ill today. Don’t like it here much.

Thursday 10 February 1983 – Feeling bit better today – let up in evening into lounge etc.

More reflections on the Health Centre next time – my early release was premature

Not sure if I blagged my way out or whether they desperately needed the beds or what – but I was released with suspected flu and instructed to recuperate at my flat. I had at least resolved to quit smoking for good, which, with the benefit of hindsight, was an excellent longer-term health outcome.

From Smoke-Free Resolve To A Smoke-Filled Room: An Election Appeal

Friday 11 February – Came out of Health Centre – not at all well. Being sick all day. Went election appeals in eve – came home to bed.

I remember this business very clearly. As a member of Constitutional Committee I was ex officio a member of the Election Appeals Committee. I have mentioned in previous Ogblog articles the shenanigans that went on the previous year surrounding Truda Smith’s election as President…

Switching To A Cracking Good Flat In Barnes, Keele, Mid February To Early March 1982

…anyway, this season the shenaniganistas were at it again. I think this problematic election was that of Vivian Robinson, who was active in Labour Club and therefore “within the sights” of the Conservative crew who were keen to disrupt elections by deliberately breaking the rules and then trying to have the election annulled if they didn’t like the result because rules had been broken. These Machiavellian types probably thought that their techniques would enable them to run the country this way in future decades, given half a chance…oh crikey!

Anyway, there was I lolling around in my flat, looking like a Dall-E reimagining of a sick 1980s student, trying not to throw up all the time…

…when Gennaro Castaldo, the SU Secretary at that time, arrived at my flat. Gennaro was one of the good guys – I guess he probably still is. He had heard that I’d been ill and was hugely apologetic…while also being emphatic…he pretty much pleaded with me to come to the Election Appeals Meeting. Gennaro sensed that it was going to be a bare-knuckle tussle and was keen to have all of the voting panellists there.

Gennaro 40 years on, borrowed from his Twitter feed.

It was hard to say no to Gennaro in such circumstances – probably almost any circumstances, if he put his mind to being persuasive.

I remember telling Gennaro that I’d been throwing up all day and wasn’t sure I could get through a heated meeting without upchucking. My “humourist reflecting back ” self today reckons that a full-blooded chunder at some point in that meeting might have been the most apposite comment of the evening.

I have asked Dall-E to try recreating the smoke-filled room that was the SU President’s office at that election appeal.

It was more unruly-looking than this, but not bad for 21st Century AI envisaging the 1980s

Chris Boden, who I think was also a member of our panel, was the main voice of the (if not the actual) complainant. I have no recollection what the actual detail of the complaint was – only that it was pretty clear to me that the whole exercise was a stunt to disrupt the students union rather than a genuine uncovering of sharp practice by or on behalf of a candidate which should result in the election being overturned.

I recall that Gennaro had kindly/sensibly placed me near the door so I could make a break for it if I felt the need to throw up. I also remember the room being very smoky indeed, which was not good news for my still agonisingly sore throat.

I also very clearly recall that, at one point, when Chris Boden was trying to set out his complaint that “someone” had broken the election rules, Vincent Beasley jumped to his feet, pointed at Chris Boden and yelled “J’Accuse” at the top of his voice. At that point, I thought I might need to bolt out of the room to throw up, but I just about managed to contain myself.

Lovers of justice everywhere will be delighted to learn that the election appeal was dismissed and the election rightfully confirmed.

But my personal struggle with infection and the Health Centre was far from over, as you’ll learn next time.

From Ken Livingstone To Celebrating The Chinese Year Of The Pig Via Airplane II At Keele, 20 January To 5 February 1983

This picture of Ken from ODPM in 2005.

Thursday 20 January 1983 …went to see Ken Livingstone in evening – great.

I remember that evening pretty well. I am fairly sure I went with Simon Jacobs, Jon Gorvett and other friends to that event. It was pretty popular – I think it was held in the FY lecture theatre – if not one of the other large lecture theatres.

Ken Livingstone was the head of the Greater London Council (GLC) at that time. There was talk of him running for parliament that year but he didn’t do so; perhaps he was too busy talking to student bodies like ours to get his selection application in on time.

I seem to recall that his most memorable rhetoric was about the Northern Ireland troubles and his advocacy of a unilateral “Troops Out” policy. But he spoke about most of the core left wing topics of the day and was very convincing, both as a speaker and (unusually for a political visitor) directly addressing questions put to him afterwards.

Nearly 30 years later, I actually got to chat convivially with Ken Livingstone at a party “down his way”.

Kim & DJ, Theme Traders 20th Anniversary Party, The Stadium, 29 May 2010

While Ken always had contrarian views and courted controversy, personally I was surprised when his statements went off the scale and led to his suspension from the Labour party a few years after that.

Returning to 1983…

Diary suggests a pretty lazy weekend, mostly spent with Liza O’Connor although we did go to Anju Sanehi’s party on the Saturday evening.

Airplane II – Surely I Must Be Joking? (I’m Not Joking And…)

There’s not much worthy of report until we get to the next weekend. Allow me to translate the relevant bit of Saturday’s entry:

…went with Liza and mum to see Airplane II…

I had never previously been out on a date with a girlfriend’s mother also in tow. A very unusual situation for a Keele student in term time, but I had chosen to go out with the Keele village pub landlord’s daughter.

I don’t think there was a repeat of this type of event with Liza. I got on fine with Liza’s mum, but perhaps the matter of dates was better left à deux.

I don’t think I again experienced the “girlfriend’s mother with us on a date” phenomenon again for more than 10 years, after which the presence of Janie’s mum became an occasional feature for a while. But that was to be “The Real Thing”.

The Real Thing by Tom Stoppard, The Questors Theatre, 3 April 1993

Returning to 1983, this particular movie, Airplane II: The Sequel didn’t help. I had seen Airplane! and thought it very funny. Neither Liza nor her mum had seen the original movie but had learned of its reputation and therefore wanted to see the sequel.

My problem with the sequel was that, to me, it is simply a rehashing of the same jokes again in an even sillier scenario – stretching implausibility beyond the limits even of a cornball comedy.

In short, Liza and her mum were laughing like drains and I was not laughing much, while mostly thinking “this is drains” and “looks like I picked the wrong weekend to quit inhaling nitrous oxide”:

Still, Liza, her mum and I came out the other side of that evening.

5 February 1983 – “Chinese Cultural Society Do”, Presumably To Hail In The Year Of the Pig

After another fairly mundane week, the following weekend saw me and Liza at a Chinese Cultural Society event, which I think was a New Year’s celebration held a week or so early (probably because there were myriad events the following weekend for Valentines).

I have described in a previous piece the “joint venture” Tony Wong and I conceived to enhance the Jewish Society and the Chinese Cultural Society by partnering.

I have hardly any pictures from that era, so I commissioned DALL_E to help me try to illustrate this event.

Hmm, this one might equally well be an outdoor version of the earlier Ken Livingstone apparatchik gathering

I don’t think such events could look quite as authentically Chinese as this at Keele

Perhaps best remembered cartoon style

Joking apart, I do remember that the Chinese Cultural Society always put on a good party.

The day after that “do”, however, my term and indeed the next few months took an unexpected and unwanted turn, which I shall cover next time.

The First Ten Days Of A Keele Term: Let’s Talk About Food Shopping, 10 to 19 January 1983

DALL-E 2 helped me imagine this sack of Maris Piper potatoes

There’s not a lot of interest to the general reader in my diary for the first 10 days of that term. Just in case you are curious, here is an image of the first week.

Studying, shopping and…not much else – let’s talk about food shopping.

In our flat, Barnes L54, we had a rota, based on three of us eating at the flat (Hamzah was outside that rota, mostly eating Halal food with the Malay crowd in Q-Block Barnes) and all four of us needing to do our bit cleaning.

I’m pretty sure that Chantelle was at least semi-detached from me and Alan Gorman by this stage – doing her bit but basically shopping for her share of the food duties with her share of the kitty.

Alan and I would make occasional trips to Newcastle-Under-Lyme together for the big food shops. No doubt 12 January 1983 was such a shop.

Sainsbury’s was the focus of such a shop. Periodically we needed to buy, not only the regular groceries, but also a sack of potatoes. Normally, in those days, Maris Pipers, which were cheap and available in large sacks at Sainsbury’s.

Actually my cooking very rarely used the potatoes. I would tend to make the rice and pasta/noodle based dishes that added some variety to our diet. But Chantelle was a “meat, potatoes and two veg” sort of lass, while Alan was such a lad. Chantelle did sometimes do a mean spag. bol. (who in those Keele flats did not?) so it wasn’t all potatoes with those two. Alan I recall, was partial to pies and sausages. There was an excellent sausage-specialist butcher on the High Street and we’d often venture there for top quality sausages at affordable student prices. I have previously discussed – click here or below -the fact that, for those two, the main meal, in the evening, was named tea.

Keele Action Group Springs Forth Campus-Wide, Constitutional Matters Mingle With A Crucial Culinary Debate In My Barnes L54 Flat, 8 to 11 October 1982

But there were other meals. Lunch (or as the other two might call it, dinner) would normally comprise something based on sliced bread. One of the staples we tended to have to go on that sliced bread was a form of liver-based pâté sold in tubes at Sainsbury’s at that time for relatively small change.

Forty years on, I don’t think Sainsbury’s sells that stuff any more but Asda sells something similar – see image below.

Image “borrowed” from Asda in consideration of promoting their product link-wise

White bread, own-brand margarine and that variety of pâté was never our dinner (tea) but was quite often our lunch (dinner) and/or our supper. Alan insisted on pronouncing that word pate (which might rhyme with gate or hate) – he had no truck with a pretentious pronunciation such as “pâté“. To be fair, I don’t think merchants like Sainsbury’s dared to put the accents on labels for such comestibles in those days, so the tube label probably read “pate”.

“Supper”, students of this Ogblog series might recall, is the ad hoc meal later in the evening (especially favoured by Alan) after a session down the boozer or possibly after a session of evening study.

Indeed, the sack of potatoes came into its own for supper, as quite often, the preferred “dish” was a chip pan full of chips.

Now look here, Dall-E 2, when I said “well used” I didn’t quite expect…but this will do.

Actually “our” chip pan (by which I really mean Alan’s) was filthy-looking on the outside but didn’t look “caked-on-gunge-like” inside, because we permanently kept it topped up with oil/fat, so it would never dry out. We mostly used rapeseed oil as the chip fat – that was the cheapest source of cooking oil in those days – which seems strange, forty years on.

Mince was very reasonable at Sainsbury’s back then, but my “dining on a budget” bankable meat protein was chicken livers, which you could get at that time for 29p per pound in Sainsbury’s, jammed into conveniently small frozen tubs, so I could have a few on standby in our tiny freezer drawer. These would serve two purposes:

  • a signature dish of chicken livers and rice – the livers casseroled with tomatoes and onions to make a rich gravy. My wife, Janie, even today, talks highly of that dish of mine, although it is some while since I have made it;
  • occasional production of a batch of chopped liver (gehakte leber) with egg and onions, using my mother’s recipe. Strangely, I might yet find a yellowed piece of paper with that recipe in her own hand, inside a recipe book somewhere. It is a course form of pâté (or do I mean pate?) which I used to make using a potato masher or, I seem to recall at one stage, a hand-controlled grinder device that my mother let me take to Keele with me as she by then had a better one. I recall that Alan very much liked this dish, although I’m not sure whether or not he preferred it to the flavour-enhanced tubes. Whether Alan’s youthful exposure to this quintessentially Jewish dish played a part in him marrying a Jewish lass many years later we can only wonder.
Jollymon001, CC BY-SA 4.0

I’ll write more about shopping in Newcastle and some more sophisticated dishes at some future stage, but for now, I think I’ve ground out enough material from this topic.

Return To Keele For “Twelve Days Of Post-Christmas”/New Year 1983 After A Very Short Seasonal Break In London, 23 December 1982 to 9 January 1983

Boat & Horses Newcastle borrowed and edited from WhatPub.

I returned to Keele very soon after Christmas, for reasons that need no more explaining in this piece than they did in my last substantive piece for 1982.

The Sun Sets On The Outside Edge Of 1982 At Keele, 11 to 22 December 1982

Just A Few Days In Streatham, 23 to 28 December 1982

I basically just spent a few days in London with family and friends that year:

Thursday 23 December…went over to Wendy’s [Robbins] for the afternoon…

Friday 24 December…went over to [Andy & Fiona] Levinson’s…

Saturday 25 December…Benjamins [Doreen, Stanley, Jane & Lisa] came over in evening…

Sunday 26 December…went to [neighbours Eardley & Aidrienne] Dadonka’s in evening…

Monday 27 December …Italian meal [almost certainly Il Carretto]…met Jim [Bateman] in evening…

Tuesday 28 December …did some taping. Went to [John & Lily] Hoggan’s in afternoon. Nice Chinese meal [almost certainly Mrs Wong‘s]. Paul [Deacon] came in evening

Back To Keele For “Twelve Days Of Post-Christmas” Before the Start Of Term, 29 December 1982 to 9 January 1983

The diary mostly refers to hanging around with Liza O’Connor during that pre-term period.

On New Year’s Eve it seems that I made some dinner at Barnes L54, the menu for which is lost in the mists of time but it would have probably been one of my Chinese wok specials. We then went to the Boat and Horses in Newcastle for a New Year’s Eve party.

I have a feeling that Liza’s brother Liam was involved – possibly even the brains behind the idea. But it might have also involved Ashley Fletcher and/or Bob & Sally (Bob Miller and Sally Hyman). I certainly recall Bob having an affection for a Bass pub around there, but perhaps not that one and/or perhaps not New Year’s Eve.

It must have been a good night because it seems we dossed all day the following day, reporting only watching a film on (Alan Gorman’s) TV in the evening. New Years Day aged 20.

Friday 7 January – went to visit Simon {Jacobs] & Jon [Gorvett] today – went to pub, shopped etc.

I think those two must have been sharing a place off campus by then. I must ask them.

OK, I think I have assessed that those 12 days before the start of term do not contain a great deal of interest for the general reader. There are several mentions of doing some work, as well as several more of spending time with Liza.

In the interest of science, I have assessed the text and can provide the following, quantitative data about those 12 days.

  • Days spent with Liza but not working: six.
  • Days spent working and also seeing Liza: one.
  • Days spent working and not seeing Liza: four, three of which described as “did a little work”, only one described as “worked all day”;
  • Days spent neither working nor seeing Liza: one.

Also in the interests of science, forty years on, I have been playing with bots ChatGPT and DALL-E over the seasonal break, with predictably hilarious results.

As I have so few images from my Keele years, I thought I’d get DALL-E to help me depict that seasonal break. The above picture is a DALL-E image generated solely from the instruction:

Depict a University Student in January 1983 spending 12 days before the start of term dossing with his friends and girlfriend, doing a little work but not much.

Looks only a smidge like me, but more importantly I think DALL-E has erred on the side of the work rather than the dossing. Probably just as well.

The Gift Of Music Albums At Keele, Late December 1982

The Jam In 1982 – Picture by Neil Twink Tinning, CC BY 2.5

Over that seasonal holiday 1982 into 1983, there are several references in my diary to taping and cataloguing tapes at Keele.

The fact that I have kept those catalogues provides me with some clues:

My Bruneian flatmate, Hamzah, had a pretty decent stereo system and a “not so bad” collection of records. Not all my taste, but eclectic. That Christmas, I think he went down early to stay with friends in London and gave me licence to listen to and tape whichever of his albums I fancied.

Veera Bachra, who lived in the flat opposite ours, I think stuck around a while longer and contributed a few albums to my recording session, as did Kev Davis, who is mentioned in my diary during that post term period in December 1982.

The result was some interesting additions to my cassette collection.

But ahead of those, I notice three cassette tapes that I “bought” (or more probably sent away for having collected a sufficiency of vouchers) from Duracell. I still have those cassettes and each of them contained at least one or two tracks that I really liked and previously lacked. I believe I acquired those during that term.

I’ll write about the Comedy Classics tapes separately. I had been working on those the previous summer and I think I completed them (or at least brought them up to Keele) after a visit to my parents during that autumn term. Alan Gorman and I listened to those tapes a lot – especially certain bits of them. As did Liza O’Connor.

Making Movies and Love Over Gold by Dire Straits were huge hits – the latter very much part of my sound track of that autumn term, as Hamzah played the album a lot. Here’s one of the best known tracks:

Weird Scenes Inside The Gold Mine – The Doors compilation album – added to my little collection of their wonderful work, as did Veera’s The Doors Vol 2. I seem to recall hearing Riders On the Storm emanating from Hamzah’s room a lot in Barnes L54.

Of all those “Hamzah and Veera” records I got into that winter, I particularly remember enjoying Handsworth Revolution by Steele Pulse. It had sort of passed me by when it came out a few years earlier, but i caught up with it good and proper that winter. Here’s one especially good track – Prodigal Son, performed live:

In truth I listened to East Side Story by Squeeze a lot less, but I did (and still) like several songs from that album, including this one:

Hypnotised by The Undertones was another album that passed me by at the time, but, thanks to Veera, I caught up with it (and it with me) in late 1982. Here’s one choice track:

The Gift by The Jam was a super album, containing hits and some excellent album tracks too. I especially liked this funky track – Precious:

The Jam was actually in most of our thoughts that Christmas, having been topping the charts with Beat Surrender, before that song surrendered to Renee & Renato – I won’t torture you with the latter:

I would have sworn I ripped Abbey Road from Liza’s collection of Beatles albums, but it seems it was from Hamzah’s. There’s something:

I don’t think I listened much to Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark, nor The Raven by The Stranglers. But I did have a soft spot for Messages from the former…

…while Don’t Bring Harry reminded me of my earlier Keele existence in Lindsay F Block, where “Mad Harry” held sway:

I did listen a lot to Forever Changes by Love, nearly wearing out the tape listening to Alone Again Or, which I still rate as a truly great track:

Bat Out Of Hell by Meatloaf just struck me as one of those albums that I lacked, despite it’s sounds having been following me around since my school years. This was probably my favourite track from that album:

Kev Davis had introduced me to some pockets of reggae that had escaped my attention. Red by Black Uhuru was one such excellent album. I listened to it a lot at that time.

I subsequently got into Al Stewart’s Year Of the Cat album far more than Time Passages, but the latter was in Hamzah’s collection. The title track follows – sort of appropriate for a “soundtrack of forty years on” posting:

The Sun Sets On The Outside Edge Of 1982 At Keele, 11 to 22 December 1982

With thanks to Graham Sedgley for these photos: Sunset At Keele, Winter 2022

For reasons I probably don’t need to explain in detail, I stayed up at Keele for best part of a fortnight after term finished in December 1982. The diary mostly mentions seeing Liza (who lived at The Sneyd Arms, so of course was still around) and doing a bit of academic work.

For those who haven’t been avidly following this “forty years on” series and weren’t around in the heady days of the early 1980s, students were required to sign on the dole every holiday if they didn’t have a holiday job and needed the financial support. But I especially like my above Tuesday write up:

Rose late. Did little. Union in afternoon & evening -> Kev’s – got very out of it!

Kev in that instance will be Kev Davis, who was quite a character. Alcohol, cannabinoids and amphetamines might well have been involved, although by then I expect I demurred on partaking of the latter, having previously found the experience unpleasant.

More time with Liza and doing some work. Also another mention of shopping – this will have been food shopping only – I have never been through a “retail therapy” phase.

A most unusual diary entry on 19 December 1982:

…watched play on TV in evening…

Alan Gorman had kindly left his portable TV behind in the flat when he went home at the end of term, enabling me to watch some TV when occupying the flat for most of the Christmas break.

Some detective work with Mr Google reveals that the television version of Richard Harris’s wonderful play about cricket, Outside Edge, was first broadcast that night, 19 December 1982. Superb cast, as you’ll see if you click the preceding link. I do remember thoroughly enjoying that play, but I was too polite to name it in the diary!

Paul Eddington & Prunella Scales in Outside Edge – picture grabbed on a “fair use for identification purposes basis” from classictelly.com.

Monday 20 December 1982 …did some taping…

Yes, I can see in my cassette log that I got busy around that time. Hamzah had a “proper hi-fi” including a record player and cassette deck. He also had some records I fancied listening to some more, as did my lovely neighbour from the flat across the way, Veera Bachra and as did Kev Davis.

I’ll write some more over the seasonal break about those music tapes and also about the comedy tapes we (by which I mean primarily me, Liza and Alan) were listening to at that time.

But for now, let’s look at Graham Sedgley’s glorious Keele winter sunset picture once again.