#8 -1984 Week 11: Who will dream of me tonight?

Everyone else, go and screw yourselves.

Monday 12 March 1984
72-294 Week 11

Do you think it is worth going mad? It would be quite an easy way out, but I suppose one would miss out on a lot of things. I expect I will go mad, but I hope not. I will probably convince myself that I shall go mad, and I will. One in three intelligent people have psychological problems. The best way to avoid it is to put yourself second and accept to enjoy the good with the bad. It would be quite interesting to be a psychologist. Yes - I have had Psychology with the Deputy Head today. He is a really good bloke. Ever so understanding and human. Apparently, I am an introvert. Not apparently – I am. But these problems, although they seem to me to be, are so unoriginal. Millions have been me and done what I do. In fact, everything has been done so many times that you begin to realise that you are nothing special after all. After all, who will dream of me tonight? No one. Apart from me that is. Because if no one else does, at least I know about myself. So everyone else, go and screw yourselves.

2024: Geoff Taylor, the Deputy Head and history teacher. No, that’s not a computer on his desk, we didn’t have computers, and certainly not with flat backs. The BBC Microcomputer had just been released. There were a couple in the school. We learnt how to programme random numbers and lines.

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Tuesday 13 March
73-293 Week 11

Dossed around at school again and although seeming to do work, actually did not much. Began listening to Hamlet in English, and it is one of those tapes where the actors stress all the wrong words and are really annoying. At lunchtime (I had a free one) Chaz and I went ‘down town’ to Bentall's to have a cup of coffee with Louisa. In fact, I had a cup of hot chocolate and Chaz had tea. After hanging about around there for three quarters of an hour, we returned to school. In the afternoon, I, myself, that is me, took the French conversation lesson and talked really well for 40 mins, which was very pleasing.

I wore a string vest today to try out what it was like, but it was awful.

Met Louisa and the rest at dancing in the evening. We danced dances to dance music in the dance hall. What a dunce I am. We ate strawberry shoelaces. What kids we are. We (the royal ‘un) stayed up till 11:30 writing one’s memoires.

Then we realised that we have a helluva lot of homework to do because we are going away this weekend. Have a nice trip!

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Wednesday 14 March
74-292 Week 11

Had a nice day because I couldn't care less. It was sunny and warm. I shocked the Headmaster by telling him I didn't want to go to Oxbridge, but I think he understood. Vaguely did some work.

For once it didn't rain at climbing today and I really enjoyed myself. Did the hard chimney at High Rocks extension and a few other things. Being on rock really makes you get to grips with the earth. Freedom of spirit.

Today I got my provisional driving licence.

I just sat down at the piano, began playing a few notes and found something worth composing, so I started that. Although I don't have a great passion for impressionist music, this is highly impressionistic. I don't know why. Decided to forget the rest of my homework and just read. I read ‘Woyzeck’ in about 1 ½ hours and am going to continue with Hamlet until late.

The painting has been finished, thank goodness, and so nearly has this side [of my diary], thank even betterness. I am almost feeling fine, thanks.

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Thursday 15 March
75-291 Week 11

Tomorrow I am going to Oxford for the weekend on a law course. And it would happen that today I get a sore throat, a stuffy head, etc. And tomorrow I won't be able to do a thing, my eyes will be watering, etc etc. Why me? I haven't packed anything yet.

We had a quartet rehearsal today for the T. Wells Festival next Saturday and we will never win! We are playing some damn awful Schubert andante and there is one damn awful tricky bit in it and I am ill.

I don't know what I shall do for the next three days 'cause I'm not taking this book with me, mate. So I shall just make a few notes afterwards. Got to go. Sorry about the empty lines.

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Void is a good word.

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Friday 16 March
76-290 Week 11

I shall have written this in two days time.

Travelled up to Oxford on an earlyish train and got there about 10:30. Booked in at Balliol College. I had a room in the modern block, which, though maybe not quaint, was at least warm. Everyone froze in the old parts. Went up with Charlie Doyle from school and for the rest of the morning we began to look about all the different colleges. Met an ex-Juddian who took us up Saint Mary's Tower to show us all from above. Had lunch in a student's restaurant and at 3:00pm we went to the first lecture in the law library. First, three fellows talked to us about something, but I cannot remember what. And after a tea break we were told some careers statistics.

Returned for dinner at Balliol in an amazing hall. Big and old. Massive and ancient. Food not too bad. However, by this time I had such a headache from the rest of the day that I meekly retired to bed and missed the evening's lecture by a student panel. Just as I was going to sleep they tested the bloody fire alarm for about quarter of an hour. The sods.

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Saturday 17 March
77-289 Week 11 St Patrick

Rose for breakfast (large) in halls and off to the law library again. Talk by a barrister. Pretty off-putting. Then the big event was the words of advice of Lord Denning, Master of the Rolls (ex). What a wit! What a character. And he gave us a long talk about English justice, an Englishman's home is his teacup, etc, etc. castle, I meant.

Following him and lunch and a walkabout here and there, we were told about judges by the Rt. Hon. Lord McGarry, Vice Chancellor. Also quite funny and interesting. Nothing really particularly helpful, but you do get the atmosphere. Solicitors and finally a wine party back at Balliol. After about two hours of that, we all dispersed in the small groups of friends we had made. Quick walk through Oxford by night via a certain tavern. Celebrations for something or other continued back in the college, moving into all sorts of different rooms. Actually this bit should, for various reasons, be written on the next side.

After some hours I knocked off. Others didn't. Took a chance on waking up for breakfast.

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Sunday 18 March
78-288 Week 11

Managed the waking up business. Ate breakfast and said a few farewells and bugger offs. Did our main tour of Oxford and went to see most of the colleges. Christchurch is amazing. Big. Like Versailles. Oriel is pretty. And I can't remember the others and it is totally uninteresting anyway. Took one last dash up Saint Mary's Tower to view the place from the top and caught the train with two girls from London. When we got to Paddington, we thought we had just enough time to get. To Charing Cross. Ran like hell, were quarter of an hour later than we thought, the train went, but caught a train with seconds to spare. Got home and realised that half an hour later I had to go and serve at Evensong. Ahhh. Basically, forget about homework.

Life is hectic and fun, and one can buy culture and Oxford Law Conferences and they're pretty good, OK? And on Tuesday I have to go to London again. I might as well leave school now.

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2024: In January I went to deputy head Geoff Taylor’s funeral. I’m glad I went. ”A really good bloke. Ever so understanding and human.”

And so in Oxford began an uneasy relationship with the law. Law was in my family. Eschewing university and having left school at 16, my father became one of the youngest ever qualified solicitors, and later a judge. There was no pressure to follow in his footsteps – how cool is that? - but I did for a bit. Later in life I have often read Lord Denning’s famous judgement in Jackson v. Miller (1977) to show lawyers from abroad something about the English legal system. Because I know you won’t want to click this link to read the full judgement and relevant cases from as far back as 1859, here’s a screen grab of the opening paragraph. It is a thing of beauty to read.

The house where I was writing the diary is in a delightful Kentish village backing on to the cricket ground. And cricket balls flying into the garden hedge was a regular thing, exactly as in the case of Jackson v. Miller. My Mum has quite a collection. Only last season did a cricket ball smash a living room window, which I don’t think has happened before. I was secretly pleased. The club paid for the damage, and asked for their ball back. I’m glad to have seen Lord Denning once in person and will think of Saturday 17th March 1984 when I hear the distant sound of leather on willow. And while I’m at it, I’ll add Geoff Taylor to my thoughts: he was a big cricket fan and as a young man was nearly selected for the the England team.

If you really want to run with this, click here and you can read a lecture by Lord Denning given 20 March 1984, just three days after I listened to him in Oxford, on the history of conflict between the trade unions and the law, starting with the Tolpuddle Martyrs. If you do read it, as I’ve just done, sit back and enjoy the crystal-clear, concise sentences and flow. I’m writing this a stone’s throw from Cally Park, my back garden for the last 25 years - Caledonian Park (previously called Copenhagen Fields) where 100,000 people gathered on 21 April 1834 (picture below) to protest the deporting of the six Tolpuddle Martyrs to Australia. And… there is a walking tour in the park 190 years later this 21 April 2024. Click for info. I’m going.

Only connect.