At last. A new chapter begins. I was now a student at Shrewsbury Sixth Form College. Soon, I would be one of the teenagers drinking at the disco.
But for the first couple of weeks, doing well at college would be my all-consuming affliction. At least until I had found myself able to relax… or something.
I had every intention of making the best of it, I really did. Read on to hear about the metaphorical hair shirt of early nights; a family wedding where alcohol was probably taken and a sixth form disco where alcohol was definitely taken… eventually.
There are mentions of sport – at last, all of the summer dross had finished (not cricket – it hadn’t finished, and it was not dross) as the football season was getting into full swing. I even took delivery of a bright yellow winter LFC coat just to help me stand out in a crowd. An odd choice, because I was the sort of person who hated to stand out, at all.
That’s enough of a summary. Let’s get into those diary entries…
Monday 1 September 1986
A philosophical, melancholic even, start to September. Overblown? Much!
I noted that this was “the last real day of the holidays” and that “from tomorrow until whenever” it would be college “every 5 out of 7 days.”
“Ah Well.” Oh, please. Such a bloody martyr.
Tuesday 2 September 1986
I went into town on the bus at 20 to eleven this morning.
In the afternoon, I had an interview at 1:20 pm, plus a library session at 2:40 pm. I also went swimming with two friends from school, Aaron and Jem. Jem was a lad who for some bizarre reason, we called Jemmer for short ? The influence of Richard Curtis and Ben Elton? Who knows?
After all that, it’s no surprise that I report being “knackered.”
Wednesday 3 September 1986
The last day of the holidays and I spent it wisely, playing Spellbound all day long.
I reasoned that I wouldn’t get a chance to play it for a few weeks until I had got myself sorted out. Ever the one for melodrama, I made it sound like I was going into space, not going to sixth form.
Thursday 4 September 1986
So, this was it.
The start of sixth-form college for real. It wasn’t actually, quite as bad as I’d thought it would be.
I had my hair cut – very short – previously it had been arranged in one of those 80’s mullets and I had even had the back of it permed to give it some curl. Very Chris Waddle – a hairstyle that the former sausage stuffer would persist with until Italia 90 – good job that I saw the light as early as I did then!
As it was the first Thursday of the month, Mum was attending Ladies’ Club, or rather Ladies’ Club was attending Mum, as our house was the venue. So, Thursday evening in front of the telly was gone up in flames.
Friday 5 September 1986
Today was Friday, so naturally, I continued my long-standing date with destiny (surely, density) – double Maths in the afternoon (funny how Maths was always such a fixture in my Friday afternoons).
As it was the first such session, it was neither good nor bad – just a shame that we had to watch our fellow students disappearing past the window at something like 2:30 when we still had another hour to go.
I went home, after running for it, on the 3:45 bus.
Saturday 6 September 1986
The thing about having 14 first cousins (12 of them older than me) is that I have been to many weddings.
Today was one of those occasions. As a family, we were invited to the church and the wedding reception and then the evening do later on – the whole shebang. Just shy of drinking age, I’m guessing that I would have been treated to a couple of shandies and probably felt quite drunk on them too.
I went to bed at 1:40 am and was up again at nine-thirty on Sunday to do my papers.
Sunday 7 September 1986
Aha! The return of that word again – you know, there’s no need for me to remind you.
In other news, Hampshire won the John Player Sunday League Cricket after defeating Surrey by 3 runs at The Oval. Rivals Nottinghamshire lost to Kent and Essex did not play. In the way of things as they were back then, there were 17 First Class Counties, so naturally, one team would always miss out on a game during any round of fixtures or another. The number was made up to 18 in 1992 when Durham was elevated to First Class status.
This was in the days when BBC2’s Sunday Grandstand could show virtually all of a 40-over match, especially when we got to the end of the season when most of the crap summer sports (I see you tennis, golf, F1) had finished their seasons and no longer got in the way.
And of course, it was college tomorrow.
Monday 8 September 1986
And so, to the first full week of sixth form college.
We were issued with lockers and Physics books.
I went to bed at 10:00 and that is all.
Tuesday 9 September 1986
In some good news, “I discovered that I’ve got all Tuesday afternoons off until Christmas. I’ll probably go home.”
As far as actual constructive studying (aka lessons) went, I had Maths and Industrial Studies. Both were “boring.”
Industrial Studies was a sort of poor man’s Economics. I did brilliantly at it throughout the two years at sixth form and then promptly went and failed the exam. This was probably down to my prioritising Maths and Physics and/or because of my abject laziness. I just didn’t do enough work in practising exam essays and memorising the facts that I would need in the exam.
So, let’s hear no more about it eh? Got that? Good!
And finally… “Ice skating tomorrow.” What joy!
Wednesday 10 September 1986
Oh wow!
This sixth form lark was becoming a great laugh. After yesterday’s discovery of all Tuesday afternoons off until Christmas, today we were off to Telford to go ice skating.
We went to McDonald’s for lunch – it was brand spanking new at this time, was McDonald’s in Shrewsbury – and very expensive, especially on a student budget.
Apart from the golden arches and the ice skating, however, life was as “boring” as ever. So much so, that a) I watched Animal Squad on tv in the evening, and b) I chose to note it in my diary.
Thursday 11 September 1986
“Not much happened today – it was boring.”
I did however watch Lenny Henry’s new show – Lenny Henry Tonite – a series of six different sitcoms. This was different to his usual show which was more of a stand-up effort.
I liked it, saying it was “quite good really.”
Friday 12 September 1986
Another new location for lunch today.
It being Friday and all that, we went to the nearby chippie. Damn fine chips they were too.
Just before lunch, General Studies(?), we were split into pairs and on a BBC computer we were supposed to write a programme to simulate Pontoon.
I bemoaned the fact that Aaron was less than complimentary about my programming abilities. On the other hand, I noted that I had complete faith in my programming abilities.
Saturday 13 September 1986
Moving into the weekend, I noted that Shrewsbury Town recorded their first win of the season versus Barnsley at Gay Meadow.
Liverpool saw off Charlton 2-0 and the LFC jacket that I had ordered from Shoot! magazine arrived today a full two weeks ahead of schedule. I remember it well.
It had a red Liverpool FC crest on a fluorescent yellow body. It was very stylish – the LFC bit, not the yellow. I wore it to death, so much so that it became more than a little bit threadbare, not to mention malodorous before I finally binned it.
Sunday 14 September 1986
“Boring day. Quite nice though.”
I had brought college work home for the weekend, but I noted that I’d done it “on the other days(!) of the weekend.” Confused? Yes, me too.
Tonight, we had the continuation of a rare treat – the third episode of The Monocled Mutineer, starring Paul McGann as Percy Toplis.
In reading up a bit more on the series, it caused quite a stir at the time – getting the Tories in a right old tizzy. What doesn’t though if it doesn’t toe the(ir) party line?
Claims made that it was a true story are likely the catalyst for the outrage, but as usual, that was missing the point. In Bleasdale’s own words, ‘I have said from the word go that my piece is a work of fiction.’
Indeed, historians contend that it’s highly unlikely that Toplis was present in Étaples during the 1917 mutiny – both the book and the series juxtaposed Toplis on the goings on in Étaples.
And furthermore, Toplis was not painted as a hero. Ultimately, he was a grubby con artist, which the series makes abundantly clear. The false equivalence at work – ‘Toplis wasn’t there, so the mutiny didn’t happen,’ is a classic response to unpalatable truths.
However, the mutiny did happen, and it was due in part to the behaviour of the camp instructors towards both new recruits and veterans, and the fact that they had not served at the front. History, whether it paints your side in a good light or a bad light depends upon being told warts and all.
Monday 15 September 1986
Another “boring” day at college, another dinner from the chip shop. We “ate them in the Quarry*.”
Did I suffer from acne? Well, surprisingly not. This was great on several levels, not least the lack of sore red spots all over my face and neck, but then also because it was me one, Dad nil. Two pieces of advice stick in my mind most from me old chap when I was growing up.
These were, don’t eat chips with everything – you’ll get spots and don’t be doing any of that head banging at discos. I took the other one to heart and did not do head banging at discos, but the one about chips was ignored with vigour. Or was it vinegar?
Anyway, I reported that I “did [my] homework and watched telly.”
*Not an actual quarry, but the Quarry; a park in Shrewsbury, bounded by the River Severn on one side and landmarks such as St Chad’s Church (a famously round church, whose churchyard contains a gravestone dedicated to Ebeneezer Scrooge), the Quarry Baths (Municipal swimming pool) and Shrewsbury Sixth Form College.
Tuesday 16 September 1986
More chips! Eaten in the Quarry again.
I also reported that last night we had gone duck feeding in the Dingle. Now, the Dingle is an ornamental garden located in the centre of the Quarry. It was once the domain of Percy Thrower, who was once the Blue Peter horticultural correspondent. It’s my contention that the Blue Peter sunken garden was inspired by the Dingle.
Anyway, today was a “BORING” day, but I did promise myself that tomorrow and Thursday would be better.
Oh yes, Wednesday and Thursday will be better.
Wednesday 17 September 1986
Ah yes, ice skating today. We had a lesson, but unfortunately, “she was a poser, so we couldn’t really learn anything because everything she did was too hard.”
Oh dear, that’s a shame then. Why wasn’t I out doing football or something equally useful on my Wednesday afternoons?
What was I doing? Following the bloody herd that’s what. It was ‘lack of bottle’ or something, but I totally misunderstood what was going on in my life at this time. Whilst my friends from secondary school were busy making new friends and branching out in new directions, here was me sticking or trying to stick to a group of people who were leaving me behind… and not necessarily organically.
That said, although I hated it at sixth form, I do know that my own attitude had a big part to play in my dislike of the experience. University was much better because I even if I didn’t study what I really wanted to do (that was some interview with the ‘careers advisor’) at least I went where I wanted to go and made new friends of my own. I had to, I knew no one.
I am far closer to these friends, more accurately, mates, than to any of my sixth form fellow travellers. But that’s enough self-analysis for now, let’s see what happens tomorrow…
Thursday 18 September 1986
Does this qualify as a red-letter day? I’m not sure – you decide. This evening was my first ever Sixth Form Disco!
Oh wow! It was a strange to do all around. For a kick-off, many of the attendees (including me) had not yet turned seventeen, and it was to be held on a Thursday evening. I’m guessing Thursday was picked in an effort to keep costs down for our sensitive juvenile pockets.
There are two things that I remember about the disco. One prosaic, the other a delicious piece of growing-up folklore.
One of our Physics teachers was a bit of a prude. She was no more than 25, fresh out of university and teacher training, married, and she DID NOT approve of the disco. Her stated objection was the fact that it was being held on Thursday – she expected no absences on Friday when we had Physics again.
I’ve no doubt that her unspoken reaction was to alcohol and our tender ages – fair enough. If the police had raided the venue, they’d have had much the same opinion. But then we were middle-class kids attending a well-off (if state-funded) sixth form college, so they didn’t.
The venue was the Oak Hotel in Shelton, Shrewsbury. Sadly, it’s no longer there, having been knocked down in 1999. It was a vaguely symmetrical building. Looking from the car park, there was a front porchway, with two wings flanking it. For discos, you went in and turned to the right through double doors where you would find a bar and the dance floor.
So far, so (very) prosaic. The other memory that I have is my first and only refusal of alcohol in a licenced establishment. I may have mentioned this before, but I was never small for my age, if anything I was a little on the large side. The same was not true of my mate, Theo. He was tiny.
We approached the bar, and he pipes up, ‘Two Bacardis and coke please’. After the barman had peered over the bar and told him to sod off (not to mention pissing himself laughing at the tweeness of it all), Theo passes me his £5 and asks me to order instead. Surprise surprise, I got the same refusal! But then, it didn’t happen again that evening and hasn’t ever since!
I make no mention of the getting served shenanigans in my diary – in fact the only comment is “good do.” Ever the one for understatement, me.
Friday 19 September 1986
Theo had slept over last night, and I had noted that “he’s [a] boring… when he’s drunk too.” God, what a charmer I was.
After all the previous night’s excitement, we’d risen from our respective pits at around 7:45 this morning, me with a “minor headache” – I didn’t note how Theo felt.
“College was very tiring today, but OK.” No mention of how Physics went.
Saturday 20 September 1986
So, you struggle through the week, putting up with going to bed and getting up early. On waking (later) on Saturday, all you can write in your diary is, “Saturdays are generally BORING, and this one was definitely no exception.” Pah!
I did go into town and bought The Alarm’s album Strength. The only trouble was that there had been an issue at the pressing plant, and they’d stuck the Alarm’s label on “some woman’s” album.
Strength was the band’s follow up to Declaration, and I bought both of them within about three weeks of each other.
Sunday 21 September 1986
“Football on TV [BBC1]. Man Utd lost 3-1 vs Everton.”
At this early stage in the season, the media darlings were second from bottom with just 4 points.
“Ha [and indeed] ha!”
Monday 22 September 1986
“Surprise, surprise. Today was boring.”
We had some “study skills crap” all afternoon.
I presume that this was the powers that be helping us to learn how to study, or is that studying how to learn?
Essential stuff really, not that I saw it quite like that at the time. Suppose I had paid more heed to these sessions. In that case, I might just have learned that reading through one’s notes, even rewriting those notes, in the immediate period following a lesson is a far more beneficial use of time than leaving them for six months or more before returning to them in order to revise for an exam.
Tuesday 23 September 1986
“Got [The] Alarm record changed at last!”
It’s funny, but the thought has occurred to me in the intervening years that my mislabelled records may have been worth a few quid. However, I was totally a here-and-now person, so I wanted my album by The Alarm – not somebody else warbling away. I just hope it’s not worth thousands. Doubt it ?
In other news, a friend was off sick from college, “because he is very ill. Or supposed to be.”
Again, I was very good at being a massive twat, wasn’t I.
Wednesday 24 September 1986
Things were getting desperate.
After college, I went round and asked our neighbour for some help with my Physics homework. She was a primary supply teacher but had done a bit of Maths and Physics in her time so in theory (and probably in practice) was a great help.
As usual, on a Wednesday afternoon, we’d been ice skating and I was still enjoying that – I think.
Thursday 25 September 1986
Thank you, Ben Elton (or whoever… probably Rik Mayall, Ed.)
I described today’s Maths lesson as “totally fascist!” Must have been my particular buzzword of the time. The weather was “nice”, and I treated myself to not one, but two Cornish pasties from a local bakery. I would have had them warm, and they were more than likely just perfect! Mmm.
Oh yes, Dan bought both the 7″ and 12″ versions of the same record. Something that I found quite amusing, but then I’ve got both versions of Full Metal Jacket (I Wanna Be Your Drill Instructor), so who am I to talk?
Friday 26 September 1986
Today was predictably, “boring”. However, I did note that I did lifesaving in the Quarry Baths, which stood next door to the college. Blinkin’ ‘eck, it were reet ‘andy ‘avin’ t’baths reet next door t’college. (That’s enough Yorkshire, Ed.)
Mention was made of Tuesday night’s football score – Liverpool had beaten Fulham 10-0 in the Littlewoods Cup.
Saturday 27 September 1986
“JACKET IS DUE (came 2 weeks ago.)”
In other news, I was in a strop. Apparently, I had been promised a rise in my pay from the newsagents, but today I was complaining bitterly that as yet, I’d not received it.
In other news, Liverpool and Aston Villa played out a 3-3 draw and Shrewsbury Town lost (again).
Sunday 28 September 1986
“Boring day today, hope tomorrow is better.”
Well, tomorrow would have to wait, but this afternoon, oh joy of joys!
Man Utd lost again. Kerry Dixon’s goal condemned them to a 1-0 reversal at home to Chelsea on ITV. Utd conspired to miss two penalties inside two second-half minutes. The referee, ‘Honest’ George Courtney, obviously felt sorry for the hosts. But anyway, they lost, “ha, ha, ha.”
*Historical note: Fat Ron’s performance as Utd’s manager did indeed cause great mirth and merriment in the soul of this young whippersnapper. However, the Utd board was getting restless and FR’s days were numbered, and a replacement was quietly being lined up. It was Alex Ferguson.
Monday 29 September 1986
In response to yesterday’s question, ‘Would today be any better?’ Answer came there, ‘No.’
I noted that it was the fourth week of college and that I “did [my] homework and watched telly.”
But that, dear reader, was that.
Tuesday 30 September 1986
Oh boy, the leaves were just waiting for tomorrow when they could jump off the trees, with October in the offing and all that.
As far as today was concerned, however, our Maths teacher was off sick, so
“M – A – T – H – S – W – A – S – F – O – R – G – O – T – T – E – N”
Oh, and I recorded that some youth musicians from college had returned from a two-week tour of Canada. I described it as a two-week melange* in my attempt to sound erudite.
What? Eh? Oh, right. Can’t be bad. Roll on October.
*Meaning ‘a varied mixture’, so almost appropriate, I guess.