A Professor’s Lot Is Not A Happy One

And another Christmas party on 14 December?  No, our every-other-year Gresham Christmas Soirée.  It’s one of my favourite events since I first played my bagpipes there in 2005.  And in an ever-stronger-every-other-year tradition we recite Barbara Anderson’s wonderful rewrite of Gilbert & Sullivan:

The Gresham Professor’s Song

We’ve Ge-ometry, Divinity and Music ’Ty and Music
There’s also Commerce, Rhetoric and Law ’Ric and Law
And Astronomy, Psychiatry and Physic ’Try and Physic
The Monday lunch time series, and much more And much more
Our subjects we with difficulty cover ’Culty cover
We formulate some titles that sound fun. That sound fun
Ah, take one consideration with another ― With another
A Professor’s lot is not a happy one.
Ah! When our Gresham Lecture duty’s to be done, to be done,
A Professor’s lot is not a happy one, happy one.

When you’re told to start at six and end at seven End at seven
And you want to fit in ninety Power-points, Power-points
But by five to eight you’ve got to slide eleven Slide eleven
You’re cold and tired and feel your aching joints. Aching joints
Our feelings we with difficulty smother ’Culty smother
When our Gresham Lecture duty’s to be done. To be done
Ah, take one consideration with another ― With another
A Professor’s lot is not a happy one.
Ah! When our Gresham Lecture duty’s to be done, to be done
A Professor’s lot is not a happy one, happy one.

When the au-di-ence ask questions that are silly That are silly
Worse still, they ask us something that’s quite hard, That’s quite hard
We try to answer sat-is-fac-tor-ily. Factorily
If desperate we tell them we’re time-barred. We’re time barred
Our stipends just, with difficulty, cover ’Culty cover
The overheads required to get things done. Get things done
Ah, take one consideration with another With another
A Professor’s lot is not a happy one.
Ah! When our Gresham Lecture duty’s to be done, to be done
A Professor’s lot is not a happy one, happy one.

The Professor’s Song – courtesy of Georgina Calver

Perhaps you’d like to see a live rendition?  On the left is John Carrington (Chairman) with Professor Robin Wilson leading, and to the right Professor Tim Connell, Professor Frank Cox, and lyricist (?) Barbera Anderson.  Fortunately I’m so far left here that I’m out of frame; sadly for you, you can certainly hear me!

 

Globemonger Christmas

Well, it’s certainly been a busy year, selling Lady Daphne, running Christmas markets for a few thousand of our closest friends, travelling, publishing, and even running a business.  So becoming Master of the World Traders is pushing things a bit, but what fun!

The first month in office as Master has been thrilling. My diary notes over 25 separate World Trader events or meetings.  The picture below is from our Company Christmas party at Watermen’s Hall on 7 December.

 

We had a  wonderful Carol Service on 7 December at All Hallows by the Tower. The choir, led by Mary Hardy and Norman Rose, performed a wonderful set of carols reflecting on my family’s Italian, German, and shipping background. There were some genuine tears. We hosted the event jointly with the Guild of Entrepreneurs, a deepening friendship there.  Sadly, it was the last one with our Chaplain, Rev’d Bertrand Olivier.  Bertrand has been Vicar of All Hallows by the Tower since 2005, but leaves on a great promotion to be the next Rector of Christ Church Cathedral and the Dean of Montreal (Québec, Canada).

Afterwards, we adjourned to some excellent drinks and goose at Watermen’s Hall. We even sang our own faux Globemongers’ Carol, opening with “God rest ye Merry, World Traders, lest Brexit ye Diss-May; Remember refer’nda, don’t ever go away”. Everyone left in a great mood, strangely clutching smouldering gifts of little red fishermen. Sehr gemutlich!

And that carol text in full:

The Globemongers Carol

(Sung to the tune of “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen”)

God rest ye Merry, World Traders, lest Brexit ye Diss-May
Remember refer’nda, don’t ever go away
To save us from the Corbyn’s pow’r, yes we have gone astray
Four tithings of EU and tax, EU and tax
Four tithings of EU and tax

But here at Watermen’s Hall, we all are castaways
Remember Christmas parties, all end in disarray
Don’t save yourself from dining’s power, you might as well a’stray
O tidings of bromo and fizz, bromo and fizz
O tidings of bromo and fizz

From year to year we reappear, and wonder all the same
How to sell incense and planets, for that’s our Company’s game
The Ever Insane Globemongers, could be our newest name
O tidings of toil and play, toil and play
O tidings of toil and play