FRIDAY 13th OCTOBER 1979

Editors note: Cook's diary entry for the following day contained only the following...

"Think I got away with it!"


Editors note: Suspecting that there might be more to the day than reflected in the entry, we asked Mark Powell for his recollection of the harvest festival.

***

To:editors@unacceptable_terms.ac.uk
From: Mark Powell mvlp@Vnet.org
Reply-To: Mark Powell mvlp@Vnet.org
Re: Harvest Festival 1979

If Ron thought that he got away with it, then I have to say that he is sadly mistaken!

The business of the harvest festival was, as I recall, an appalling embarrassment for all those concerned. That morning we all filed into the hall specifically to watch Ron's performance. We took up position at the rear. Stuart was visible on the proscenium, seated behind a table with an empty chair to one side of it. A rumour rippled through our ranks that at the last minute Ron had refused to submit to whatever indignities Raven had heaped upon him and the whole presentation would be abandoned. As it turned out we were right about the indignities part but wrong about the refused.

Stuart, evidently waiting for a signal, or satisfied that as many pupils as were planned to attend were in the hall, switched on a cheap portable cassette recorder on the table in front of him. A horrible metallic grating din filled the air. After a moment or two it was possible to make out the horribly distorted strains of Beethoven's 'Pastoral.'

At this point, Ron made an unexpected and dramatic entrance from the rear of the hall, striding through the central aisle towards the stage. He was wearing this fantastic Gaynesford improvised costume which managed to obscure the identity of his character's identity while doing nothing for his own. He was had some form of tight fitting tailed jacket, while on his head was what appeared to be about a kilo of talcum powder. He was leaving a little cloud of powder in his trail. Someone had etched fake age lines on his face with an eyebrow pencil.

An instantaneous cry of recognition went up from the assembled children. Ron ascended the stage to join Stuart, who had mercifully turned off the cassette. The opening dialogue was stamped with all the traditional hallmarks of a Tony Raven authored script. Stuart: "Why it's Ludwig Van Beethoven! What are you doing here, Mr Beethoven?

Ron: "I have come listen to my music!" in an accent, which moved smoothly through German, Afrikaans, Welsh, and Russian in a single sentence. We sat through twenty minutes of this audio anesthesia as Ron and Stuart struggled to cope against superhuman odds, but I have to confess that the whole thing left an indelible blank in my mind.

I think that Ron considered it a low point for his theatrical career - he certainly never spoke of it again! I got the feeling that he felt that he had been persecuted by those around him. But then that was the natural state of affairs for the Head Boy.

Mark Powell

Click on screen for Beethoven's "Pastoral"