Attached is some information from Mike's service. Ernie
From Mike's sister:
The whole service was brilliant! The vicar was lovely. The West Chapel was packed - there must have been at leat 200 of us - standing room only. Obviously we partied on at Mike's afterwards and helped to consume another couple of vineyards. It was a bitter sweet day.
Program from the service:
Music as people take their seats to be Holst The Planets Track 4 Jupiter the Bringer of Jollity to fade down when everyone has arrived.
Introduction from Father Bruce and thanks to all the family and friends who have made such an effort to join us today.
Michael Edward Court was born on 24th January 1956 to his beloved Flossie and Joe 9 months and a day after their wedding – family legend has it that he was conceived in a cornfield just outside Stratford upon Avon.
His sister Debbie followed 23 months later. On a good day, Mike has described Debbie as “my little sister, my angel, the funniest and most loyal and most generous person I know.” But then we all know Mike was prone to exaggeration! On other days she was his nemesis. Mike was thrilled when he introduced Debbie to the glorious Robert 17 years ago, at last he had an ally to share the flak!
Mike, as we all know him, was academically brilliant right from the start of his education at St Mary’s primary school where he met his best friend or “BF” of nearly 50 years standing, the lovely Simon. A testament to a friendship that was mutually supportive - filled with some shared sorrows, but crammed with so much more shared fun.
Mike went on to be head boy at Dover Grammar School and then A levels in hand, and much to Flossie’s delight, continued his glittering academic career at University College, Oxford. A fact that Flossie was able to casually drop in to any conversation and to anyone who would listen for the next thirty or so years.
Mike was a member of Mensa with an IQ of 140 that put him in the top 1% of the population – officially rating him in the genius category. As most of you know Mike was on Mastermind at the end of last year and won his first round. His next appearance is scheduled for the semi-finals on April 23rd and Mike might appreciate it if you don’t watch this losing performance – the aftermath of an exceptionally good dinner with friends in Manchester the night before.
Mike’s chosen subject for his thesis at Oxford was The Works of Dorothy Parker, an American writer and poet from 1893 to 1967. Best known for her wit, wisecracks, and sharp eye for 20th century urban foibles – it’s easy to see why Mike loved her. Pascale has not been able to join us today due to the flight chaos so Jean will now read the Dorothy Parker poem Pascale has chosen for today.
Little Words
When you are gone, there is nor bloom nor leaf,
Nor singing sea at night, nor silver birds;
And I can only stare, and shape my grief
In little words.
I cannot conjure loveliness, to drown
The bitter woe that racks my cords apart.
The weary pen that sets my sorrow down
Feeds at my heart.
There is no mercy in the shifting year,
No beauty wraps me tenderly about.
I turn to little words - so you, my dear,
Can spell them out.
(End of Pascale’s reading and back to Father Bruce)
Thanks Jean. I know from Pascale and Mike’s daily forays into the Telegraph crossword, that she and Mike shared a love of the “little words” as it was the big words that always threw them – Mike would like to mention “forestall”.
Mike’s career in advertising took him from media man at Leo Burnett’s – what a terrible mistake that was – to his more appropriate place in the creative world, where he worked at some of London’s best agencies including his own, Still Price Court Twivy D’Souza. Mike made hundreds of friends (and just a few enemies) in his career in advertising and here is a message from one of those friends in New York, Helayne Spivak. (Father Bruce to read)
The poet Edna St. Vincent Millet wrote about a short but intensely lived life.
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends ¬
It gives a lovely light!
That is Mike. A lovely light.
I first met Mike 20 years ago at a Y&R Creative Directors meeting in Madrid. I headed up the NY office, he and Logan headed up London. Y&R was pretty stuffy at the time. Very white bread, traditional, and conservative, especially in the executive ranks. Mike stood out like a shining, black leather, silver-studded star. Within a few moments of our introduction, I said something horribly sarcastic about someone in the room. Mike came back with something even worse. At that moment I fell madly in love with him. Fortunately, it was mutual.
I don’t have any specific funny stories about Mike. I just know every moment I spent with Mike was fun. Never once in 20 years did I ever feel one second of boredom in his presence. He pretty much vibrated with intelligence and a wicked wit. And he spared no one. Including me.
Last time Mike was in New York, I wanted him to meet my new French boyfriend so we all went out to lunch. After a bottle or three of wine, I started talking about political relations between European countries. A subject about which I know nothing. I closed my story with a comment about the border between France and England. There was dead silence at the table. Then Mike said, “Yes, love. It’s called The English Channel. Quite an education you get here in the States.”
Balancing his sharp side, was his incredibly warm side. He spoke to me often of his love for his family. Those of us lucky enough to be his friends. And the last, great love of his life, Gerry.
I’m sorry I’m never going to read the novel that I hoped he’d write. I’m sorry he and Gerry won’t be visiting me in October as planned. I’m even sorry I won’t hear any more about those bloody cruises he so loved. Most of all, I’m sorry I couldn’t be here today, in person, to celebrate the life of our lovely, our irreplaceable, our always to be missed friend.
(End of Helayne’s message)
Mike’s enduring passion was for his family and friends and the song we’ll listen to now from the musical Wicked is one that summed up how he feels about friendship. For those of you who hate musicals bear with us as it is a little long.
Play 1st Track “For Good” (4m 19s)
Everybody here today knows of Mike’s passion for cruises he sailed on 70 different ships and completed over 130 cruises. In recent years Mike has spent several cruises as well as stays in Birmingham and London corrupting his beloved, albeit teetotal, Aunty Barbara. We think Mike succeeded!
One of Mike’s earliest cruises came about when Mike was still at Oxford and had beseeched his father for money to buy a decent overcoat as he was so cold. Joe duly sent Mike a cheque for £50 – a substantial sum in 1974- with a letter encouraging Mike to get a good cashmere overcoat. Mike promptly booked a mini cruise to Denmark and bought a Pac-a-Mac.
A relatively new cruise friend from America, Ernie Roller, sent us the following anecdote. (Father Bruce to read)
Mike was a long time contributor here on Cruise Talk. His cruise experience was vast (well over 100 cruises I believe) and he was quick to share his opinion. This may have rubbed some people the wrong way but it was simply his style. In person Mike was a very gregarious, fun loving man. A man that knew how to enjoy life and live it to the fullest. My last memories of Mike are from the final QE2 Westbound crossing alongside the QM2. I flew into London early and met up with Mike for dinner and drinks the night before sailing. Mike was not booked - and the ship had been sold out for quite some time. We enjoyed lots of wine and cocktails and had a great time at a fantastic restaurant right next to The Ritz. I expressed that it was too bad that Mike wasn't booked. Mike joked that he knew Carol Marlow pretty well, who was President of Cunard at the time. He implied that maybe she could pull some strings. I just laughed and thought "whatever", this is Mike bragging. Well who did I see on deck during sail-away, but Mike! He pulled it off and even arranged to have an extra chair set at my Caronia Dining Room table, all a complete surprise to me. Mike wasn't just talk. He could certainly put his money where his mouth is, so to speak. There are very few people that knew as much about the modern day cruise industry as Mike. He sailed often on ships of every line, from Costa to Cunard and pretty much everything in between. He had fantastic stories to tell about them all, going way back to ships like ORIANA and CANBERRA. He could remember details about them like it was yesterday, and could captivate an audience like no one else. His current favourite ship was Fred Olsen's BALMORAL. He really raved about her. Rest in peace Mike, you will be missed. I hope wherever you are, it's on an ocean liner that you love.
(End of Ernie Roller’s message)
Mike’s passion for the sea was enormous, but he also loved London. Although he had talked in recent years of retiring to Deal to be near the sea and enjoy a less hectic lifestyle, he would have hated it! So here’s another of Mike’s favourite pieces of music that sum him up his love of city life.
Play 2nd Track “Downtown” (3m 07s)
Not everybody will know of Mike’s childhood passion for amateur dramatics – oh how he wowed those of us fortunate enough to be there - with his roles from the Artful Dodger to Richard the 3rd. Buoyed by his success, during the late 70’s and early 80’s Mike regularly corresponded and met with Stephen Sondheim, who the critics describe as “the leading light in American musical theatre”. Mike offered him some much needed advice for his otherwise lacklustre musicals. Who knows, Sondheim may never have won his Oscar, 8 Grammies, 8 Tonys and the Pulitzer Prize without Mike’s valuable input!!
Reading from Father Bruce St John 20: 19-31
Paul Twivy will now read us a message from Logan.
I know Mike would like us all to be in floods of tears, ‘Four weddings and a funeral’ style. But I think some of those tears should be tears of laughter, because that’s the Mike I knew.
Mike and I were creative partners for the best part of ten years. But we were much more than art director and copywriter sharing an office, we shared everything... the same cigarette smoke, the total output of several vineyards, countless cruises, the same bedroom more often than I can remember and almost every intimate detail of our lives.
When I first met Mike over 25 years ago, I was an uptight rugby playing Ulster proddy and he was a flamboyantly erudite, oxford educated, Englishman. ‘I’m gay you know’ he said at the bottom of our first pint together. And by the bottom of our sixth we were walking arm and arm through Covent Garden. Opposites, totally at ease and helplessly attracted to each other.
He wasn’t easy, but you all know that.
Mike was an intense concoction. A rough trade intellectual, a pop-culture sophisticate, a riot of melancholy and laughter. A fine Montrachet and a Bacardi and coke, a huge hug and a good tongue lashing. A cross between Joan Rivers, Bette Davis and Frankie Howard. A loveable rogue. The sweetest tart you could ever possibly meet.
Yes, he was a mass of conflicting signals and contradictions, but he made all our lives more vibrant when we were with him.
Mike squeezed more into his short time on earth than most of us could do in two lifetimes. And I know everyone here today benefited from that.
He was truly a force of nature, a cyclone who swept us all up into his vortex. I cannot imagine what my life would be like if I had never met him. But these things I know... I would not have met my wife, Beth, I would not have two beautiful daughters, I would not have gone around the world for a year and I would not be living in New York today. Quite simply my life is the life I hoped to live thanks to meeting Mike Court.
So I’d like us all to raise an imaginary glass. Close our eyes, picture his big smiling face, and that big old gap in his teeth. Say ‘Chink’ and ‘Bon voyage Mike’ (pause). Now guzzle like it’s the very nectar of life.
(Paul hands back to Father Bruce)
I think Logan has said it all.
It is clear from the emails, cards and letters that you have all sent in the past week that Mike was generous, larger than life, great at lunch, had a lovely mind and “a wit that can scatter dullness and boredom from a room”. How he would have loved to read all of your messages. And how he would have laughed at some of them.
To conclude our celebration of Mike’s life let’s remember Mike’s enormous capacity for love – he was, deservedly, much loved by you all and he gave so much love in return. He truly touched the lives of all who met him.
Mike was an incurable romantic. He loved to cry at schmaltzy films, books, poems and music. Let’s listen to another one of his favourite songs from the musical Robert and Elizabeth.
Play 3rd Track “I know now” (2m 33s) play right through to the end .
Final blessing from Father Bruce and announcement that those who can are welcome to come back to Mike’s for a Scotch egg and a little drink.
Exit music to be Kylie “On a Night Like This”