ECCLES POET AND RACONTEUR PAUL SHERRATT HAS SADLY DIED

This month is getting worse for me, firstly Ted Edwards the Eccles explorer, author and all round good guy passed away and last night I heard the news that Paul Sherratt had died in March this year aged 73.

You may not remember Paul, he was an incredibly talented, funny, kind and colourful man, who I enjoyed having a pint or two with, despite him nodding off mid sentence... not boredom he had a form of narcolepsy, by which he could suddenly nod off for five minutes or so, and then wake up as if nothing had happened.. quite remarkable really, a bit like him!

He wrote a book of poetry in the late 1970s called, The Lancashire Vampire, which I purchased and it had me in stitches, one line I can recall was...

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"In a one eyed town called Nelson..." at that time I had co written The History of Eccles Pubs with Neil Richardson and Paul would always say to me, whilst laughing..

"Us authors got to stick together, Flynny"

I know that several of his poems were broadcast on the BBC and he had plans to write another book of poetry, but I think life got in the way as Paul more than enjoyed the social life in the pubs of Eccles, poetry readings at The Duke of York folk nights and to see him stand up on a Karaoke night and belt out, "Like a Bat Out Of Hell" or "Louie Louie" was a delight.

Another of his traits besides his loud ties and slightly eccentric dress taste was the  prodigious amount of snuff he would take, he would take out several tins of snuff and take a pinch out of one or two of them and snort up his nose, much to the astonishment of onlookers. I would imagine the sale of snuff at Gordon's Newsagents has plummeted.

His good friend, Bob Marshall told me this about Paul:

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"I went to a good few gigs with him but given the amount we used to drink they all blur, he was famous for falling asleep during other peoples performances and then getting on stage himself and being brilliant, he had a sequence of music hall tunes to which he wrote stuff about getting pissed " I'm emptying my eighth I am......" followed by "I'm forever drinking Ruddles ..." then "Twenty pints of Holts twenty pints of Holts you've just been sick on the floor you shouldn't eat curry I've told you before..."

The great thing was it was supposed to be a sing-along sequence called the Camra Crawl to initial tune of the Lambeth Walk "any evening and all day north west east or south you may find us all doing the Camra Crawl..." but Paul would take a drink or seven and scramble the order the songs came in and and repeat the verses, miss out the chorus, and sing the wrong tune, great fun but not likely to get repeat gigs. if he could have kept on top of the ale he'd been better known but like a good few performers I've known, working in pubs is the wrong place"

 

Salford Councillor Paul Cusack another friend of Paul's, told me:

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"He was a one off: intellectual, poet, raconteur, self confessed functioning alcoholic and a snuff taker of some considerable note.

His humour and interest in friends, acquaintances and people in general never abated. He never did things by halves but consumed everything interesting in his world in large portions.

To his friends he was a great friend and he always delighted in seeing and speaking to them. His wit and conversation are irreplaceable"

 

Paul, I shall raise a glass to you tonight but decline the snuff, you will be sorely missed, my old friend.