First Night
If you are in Maidenhead go to the library. It functions well in its prescribed role, it’s spacious, roomy and, memorable for me, you can take a look at where MSC used to meet. The room is now designated as the ‘quiet room’ on the top floor. It is a placid place and was a first rate venue to the Club meetings. I can still step in there and be nearly 30 years younger.
When I stepped in there in the 1990s I recognised one face (Cyril P who I had met elsewhere and invited me to visit) amongst the thirty plus who were getting settled into their seats. All of the men wore ties, women made up about a third, the President David Mc wore his medal around his neck and a neat moustache on his lip. The Serjeant at Arms gave us 1 minute of notice to settle to silence. It felt a bit like the theatre with the cast in the audience. My presence was in the ‘guest’ category which gave insulation from the action hence allowing my nerves to be passive while I observed, absorbed and marvelled. A term that puzzled, and still jars, was Table Topics. How was that going to work, I couldn’t see a table. I not sure what was open more widely, my eyes or my mouth. With no notice this unprepared clutch, chosen at random, were sharp, calm and intimidating. How long does it take to achieve that level of knowledge, confidence and competence? My mouth closed and I listened to the prepared speeches that were varied, interesting and impressive. The room paused for tea before another group of wizards gave us their opinion, coupled with advice, of the prepared speeches. How did these people have enough time and mental agility to create something so analytical and useful. ‘There’s something in the tea’ I thought.
Shortly before the close I was asked for my thoughts of the preceding 90 minutes. My contribution was completely inconsequential in measure against the other output the room had witnessed. On the way home I reviewed the evening in my mind and had the hovering question of ‘what do I do next?’ After a night’s sleep, on the train to London, I got the answer: go again as a guest and politely decline the entreaties to join. There were more relaxing activities to fill the first evening of the working week. My own advice was, within two weeks, ignored and the heat was on. The hardcore were active. How would I make progress.
–Ian Rees
Maidenhead Speakers Club 