The Baltimeister, Andy Murdy (1976-83), reports on the 4th Memsaabs' Dinner of the 1983 Curry Club
Autumn. Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness. Or at least it is if you know your Keats. And I expect that most if us wouldn't know a Keat if we saw one...
Autumn is also the Traditional Gathering Time for the Memsaabs' Dinner - one of the several occasions during the year where we are on our best behaviour* as wives/ partners/ significant others/ kids join the 1983 Curry Club for food, frivolity and essentially the same old stories that keep half of the attendees happy as expected whilst the Memsaabs wonder at our ability to be amused** by the same stories again and again and again. So we assembled, little by little... in small groups... in the Poacher, where a man in tweed met a man with a beard... pillars of the community discussed football and cricket and scouting... a Daughter was introduced, following the Glasgow Tradition...
And so we Progressed to Masala Junction... an old bank, for those in that line... a back room, packed with folk... stories, laughter, good fellowship... people who had never spoken at school happily conversing***. Old friendships renewed. A most enjoyable evening.
Alas, the Almanack did not appear. Mr President will update, I'm sure, ready for Scrutiny by The Baltimeister and Officials of the Chutney Tray. A fine feast (and better value than the Red Fort I can tell you) was enjoyed until, alas and alack, there were no Towels, depriving Mr Sullivan of his role.
So, to the next Normal Event. Early 2018. We can offer beer and curry and The Stories. Come if you can. You will be welcome!
The Baltimeister