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20130613

Tuesday May 30, 1978

Oak Apple Day ~ and King Chares II's birthday

Very hot and sticky and un-English. Chaotic at the YP. Wore one of Pete Holroyd's shirts to work, and although I say it myself I looked a bit flash.

Dave L phoned me at 6:30. He says he's got a job in pub management with Whitbread in the Gloucester area. He starts in August. Teachers everywhere should mourn his passing.

I altered a pair of trousers ~ transformed them from the baggy variety into narrow legged ones ~

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Monday May 29, 1978

Moon's last quarter 04:30

Spring Bank Holiday (UK, except Scotland)

I was out of bed at 8 making cups of tea for the ladies. Things were hurried and tempers were frayed because Charles Millward, the internationally famous actor, was collecting Trixie at 9. Pete offered to take Jacq and I to Victoria. It was my idea. Why hang round Muswell Hill all day when we had the opportunity to bask in the sun at Hyde Park? This is in fact what we did. From 10 until 5pm we baked ourselves golden brown in the heart of beautious London.

________________. We arrived at Victoria coach station looking like typical holiday-makers. Trixie sent me away with about 20 of Pete Holroyd's shirts, some of which he never had the chance to wear. It was a hot journey home.

Had a photographic session in a kiosk on the motorway at Sheffield. I carried Jacq's gear to the YWCA and got a bus to Guiseley at 11. Mum and Dad are burnt to cinders too.

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Sunday May 28, 1978

1st Sunday after Trinity

Breakfast was fun. Pete S screaming and shouting about his diet resembling that of a Paki's after a large bowl of cold leftover rice was thrust before him. He's got a way with words.

Trixie, Jacq and I walked to the Alexandra Palace were CAMRA were 'throwing' a beer festival. We sat on the lawn drinking pints to the sound of a German band until after 5. Yet another incredibly hot day.

Trixie told Jacq she's buying her a car for Christmas _____________-.

Ate pizza and sank 'real ale'. Jacq was wearing her 'lampshade' outfit __.

Tonight we dined quietly with Trixie and saw a bit of The Godfather with Marlon Brando.

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Saturday May 27, 1978

A hot, stinking day. I felt revoltingly ill and close to death. At 12 we went with Trixie and Pete S to the Five Bells at East Finchley where I performed my 'dead man lying on the floor' routine for anyone who cared to watch. They were all sinking pints of beer like Billy Ho (sic) but all I could do was moan and grovel about in the deep grass with my clammy fingers wrapped feebly round a tomato juice. ________. Trixie Holroyd however is just perfection itself _____.

Another party at Trixie's tonight ~ a dumping ground for homosexuals and Polish refugees with wealthy wives, and women wearing pink pullovers adorned with white beads and with faces that go numb after only two gin & tonics. All called Jack, Beryl, Dick and Celia. The food, chatter, booze and general atmosphere was a delight. Slept in the state bed.

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Friday May 26, 1978

To the YP with Jim and a rucksack full of belongings. A hot, bright, summers day.

At 12 I went to the bus station and grabbed the back seat of the 309 to London. Jacq arrived minutes later and at 12:30 we left for the bustling metropolis swigging from cans of warm lager.

At 5:30 we were at Trixie's ~ & the three of us went straight to the BBC at the Alexandra Palace for a few drinks. Everyone completely pissed.

Party back at Trixie's flat from 8pm. Here all is lost and forgotten in a mist of champagne, elderberry wine, and various assortments of ale.

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Thursday May 25, 1978

That nauseating, wriggling grub David Steel has announced today that the pact with the government will be ended at the close of the current parliamentary session in July in readiness for a clean sweep towards a general election. He must think we've all fallen off a Christmas tree or something, because I can tell you that the voting papers will still be warm in the ballot boxes when the swindling Liberals team up with Mr Callagas and his gruesome set.

Christine phoned today.

Tonight we expected Jim and Margaret Nason but they never materialised. Edith and Ernest are of course house hunting in far-off Devon. So, it was an unusually quiet night, and a hot one.

I'll fill in a bit of the blank page by mentioning Dad's moustache. He first grew one in 1973, but shaved it off in that historic year. His 1978 effort is even better, and I award him top marks for its high class cultivation, colouring, size, lustre, body and exquisite shape. Indeed, the facial adornment just sends the years rolling from him.

Goodnight.

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Wednesday May 24, 1978

Princess Margaret and the 1st Earl of Snowdon were divorced ~ on this the 159th birthday of Queen Victoria. I don't think she'd have been amused at all. Mind you, it is 1978, and when everybody else in the kingdom are tearing up their marriage certificates I suppose it's only right that one or two members of the Royal Family should do likewise. Moving with the times, and all that. It's about the only excuse I can give.

The only other violent eruption I can envisage this year in the Royal House is Prince Michael of Kent's marital intentions with Marie-Christine Troubridge.

Politics: a recent opinion poll suggests Margaret Hilda Thatcher might not become prime minister at the next general election. It is infuriating to see the present enfeebled prime minister growing to look more like Sir Winston Churchill and all the more how one expects a Conservative leader to look while at the same time the 'true blue' leader is a peroxide blonde housewife smothered in Max Factor ~ going through the change ~ &c. It really is intolerable. The political analysts are now saying we won't be going to the polls until next Spring and the thought of a jubilant James Callaghan and Denis Healey rolling, frolicking, and skipping midst the crocuses at Westminster just doesn't bear thinking about. Another Labour government would take us to 1984, George Orwell and all that.

Home news: Just watched tv this evening. Mama is back to normal I think. Her moods can put a tremendous dampener on things.

Lynn came home with a new hairstyle ~ a perm. She's such a pretty girl ~ one of the finest maidens in the parish.

Edith and Ernest are going to Devon tomorrow to view a house near Kenneth's that's for sale. Mum says it's a bad idea that they go south. She hasn't told them of course. I agree when she says that moving at that age can do more harm than good. Ernest has many friends up here and to old people that can be the difference between an active, youthful mind, and a geriatric cabbage.

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Tuesday May 23, 1978

Phoned Christine this afternoon and laughed about the usual things.

The so-called bus strike ended. It is estimated that it will cost ratepayers £1,000,000. I got an infernal omnibus to Guiseley for the first time in many weeks.

This evening I phoned Dave G to say the bill from Global Travel is finally in my hands. The holiday this year will cost us £176 (approx) each, and to think that in 1971 I went to Interlaken, Switzerland for a mere £40.

Dave was fine. He's looking forward with almost an insane passion to the San Antonio jaunt ~ in about seven weeks time.

Mother is still in one of her 'let's all moan at Michael' moods which doesn't do much for my patience or temper. It is equally infuriating to see Lawrence Rhodes, PC 1656, sitting through the barrage of abusive, slanderous drivel as though he is stone deaf.

I think you now have a clear picture that life isn't all roses and pea wine here at Pine Tops. However, I suppose things could be much, much worse. __________.

Whilst Her Majesty the Queen is in Bonn, over in London Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon are about to be divorced. The petition is due to be heard tomorrow and the £16 'quickie' will set a precedent in the Royal House of Windsor that will not please many people. If I were a bishop I can tell you that I'd be bombarding The Times with lengthy epistles on the sanctity of family life.

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Monday May 22, 1978

Full Moon 17:14

Overcast sort of day. I phoned Christine after lunch to say I stood outside her house at some ridiculous hour on Saturday morning in a feeble attempt to attract her attention. We laughed a good deal. Her car is having its MOT this week and so we are not having our weekly orgy. She was out with Carl or Karl on Saturday which confirms Jacq's report of seeing a man in her car on the night in question.

I also rang Michelle at Smith's and she broke the news to me that the bill for the holiday is in the post. More money to pay out.

Mum had her usual weekly 'go' at me over dinner. It was an attack on my financial, moral and romantic condition. She usually sticks to just one subject for each argument but today's was a multi combined assault resembling a scene from the Russian Revolution. She made several nasty cracks that I won't forget in a hurry. I am sure that at times she is unstable.

Passed the evening in front of the tv. News: a couple of Belgian taxidermists have been shot in Zaire and everyone seems to be in uproar about it. I fail to be shocked, horrified, surprised or remotely interested about what goes on in these 'Up the Jungle' Banana republics. Who cares whether Mr Mobutu's government is stable or not? Perhaps Mrs Mobutu, or maybe even his elderly mother, but certainly nobody else.

Her Majesty the Queen is in West Germany on her second state visit to that land. I was reading somewhere that in a recent opinion poll 85 per cent of voters said that would-be kaiser Prince Louis Ferdinand of Prussia would be the best man to be president of the republic ~ and he wasn't even on the list of candidates suggested in the poll!

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Sunday May 21, 1978

Trinity Sunday

At 12 we all went to the White Swan at Yeadon ~ except Lynn & Dave, who couldn't escape the clutches of Lawn Rd ~ Mother wasn't in a particularly joyous mood, & Margaret Nason__________. The object of this lunchtime mêlée? Well, Susan was playing cricket for Wendy Wools on this, the Swan cricket ground, that has seen the likes of Sir Godfrey Bloodcot and Mavis Trueman at the crease. Or is it Christine Trueman? Whatever.

It was a bright day, yet cold. Sue did marvellously well and bowled one opponent , then caught another. By 4pm she was exhausted and more or less gave in when it was her lot to bat. She only managed to get two runs. We were all proud of the dear thing, anyway.

Back home for about 5. Jacq and I listened to the radio until 7. Mum and Dad went to Maureen and Laurence Craven's silver wedding party.

Jacq and I sat in the lounge (99 per cent decorated) ~ watched an Edward G. Robinson film. Jacq had no idea that Janet Leigh had once been the wife of Tony Curtis.

At 10 to Harry Ramsden's and then had a quick drink at the White Cross before Jacq left for Leeds at 10:45.

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Saturday May 20, 1978

Sun rises 5:02 Sun sets 20:53

Out of bed at 11am to finish painting the lounge fireplace, yes the fireplace. It took most of the day and my sole companion on this adventure was Alan Freeman on Radio 1.

The highlight of the afternoon was when the legs of the television, with my help, gave way and capsized. Most people in the land were watching the England v. Scotland football match on their sets, but mine was upside down, covered in emulsion paint. It was an experience that neither the telly or I will forget lightly.

Met Jacq in Guiseley at 8 and had a drink in the Yorkshire Rose. She was clad in red and black which was attractive. From the above mentioned weird tavern we made our way to the Crown at Yeadon where we tarried until 11.

Philip Knowles and Co, plus Naomi, Rick Hartley and mob were merry-making, but no parties for afterwards seem to have been planned. I was horrified when Jacq mentioned seeing Naomi at Tony's party. I wasn't aware that Miss Downing had been to the party. Oh, I was so pissed. Phil Hewitt's sister who works behind the bar, is a nice girl.

At 11 we returned to Pine Tops. The two of discussed going abroad to seek our fortunes next year. Do you get the feeling that you've heard all this somewhere before? Yes, but now is the time, Michael!


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Friday May 19, 1978

Met Jacq in the Central at lunchtime and discussed tonight's thrilling adventure. Having no idea where to go, we finally decide on Cinderella's. I don't think I've been since Dec 1976 when we went on the Christmas "do" there from the YP.

I got a bus at about 9pm to Leeds and met Jacq at the Jubilee, opposite the Town Hall, before moving to the Merrion Centre. She contributed £5 for her share of the evening's alcohol. In Cinderella's for 10:30. For most of the night the DJ played the 'Saturday Night Fever' LP which I (far more than poor Jacq) thoroughly enjoy. We didn't get smashed either, although we did blow £10. The dance floor was the coolest place to be and we danced like half-crazed Māori tribesmen until we were virtually thrown out at 2:15am.

The night was warm and light and after taking Jacq back to the hostel I set off along Burley Road in the direction of home. Again, I walked as far as Rawdon Crematorium before anyone decided I needed a lift.

On New Road Side I stood outside Christine's loudly whispering her name. Her bedroom light shone invitingly out across the sweet smelling Horsforth meadows, and my heart raced at the thought of her négligé clad form coming out to greet me.

It must have been about 5:0am when I eventually got to bed.

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Thursday May 18, 1978

Work day and night. Hacking up old newspapers all day and slapping paint on the lounge all night. Absolutely nothing else to report. Oh yes, I have.

Lynn was splattered all over the front page of the EP this evening and sales have probably rocketed because of it. She was sprawled all over the wing of a new £84,000 aircraft at Yorkshire Light Aircraft Co. I told her she should receive 'royalties' for her sales technique, and I don't say it as a light hearted quip either. How much money would Ursula Andress or Raquel Welch receive for advertising in such a way?

Jacq and I went to the library (again) at lunchtime. I have finally discarded Samuel Pepys. He was a decent sort, but to be honest I just haven't had the time to read his confounded diaries fully. After a month I've only covered six months of his daily natterings.

Wednesday May 17, 1978

Got home from work to find the lounge devastated in readiness for the redecoration. Dad was in the garden and Mum was moping in the dining room and didn't say more than a handful of words all evening. I sat putting photographs into a new album until 11pm and then retired to bed. Such a boring night. If things continue like this tomorrow I may have to resort to taking Bianca Jagger out for a drink or two.

'Royal Flash isn't a very good book at all. Just not my cup of tea ~ third rate and ridiculous.How can one be expected to take seriously a tale about Otto von Bismarck rolling about in bed with a French tart?

This pen is just about going to run out of ink by the time I finish writing this. It didn't ...


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Tuesday May 16, 1978

I feel like being brief. But, no. Went to the library with Jac qt lunchtime and took out 'Royal Flash' by George MacDonald Fraser. Can't imagine why. It isn't my usual read.

Christine phoned to say bye for a week. She leaves for Jersey tomorrow (I think).

Natalia Phillips, the 19 year-old granddaughter of the late Lady Zia Wernher, is to marry the Duke of Westminster's heir, Earl Grosvenor, in October.

The Lord High Constable of Scotland, Lady Erroll, died today aged 52. The holder of this title is the first subject by birth after the Royal Family, having the right to take place before every other hereditary honour, which was allowed to the 18th Earl on the visit of George IV to Scotland, and to the 20th Earl on the visit of Edward VII in 1903, and of George V, in 1911, and to the poor dead countess herself on the state visit of Elizabeth II, in St Giles Cathedral in 1953, when, however, the Sword of State was borne on her behalf by her deputy, Lord Home.

The Countess of Erroll also presided, through her deputy, over the Court of the Verge, or Constabulary Court, and her jurisdiction is, or was, supreme in all matters of assault or riot within four miles of the Queen's person when in Scotland; which with the other rights and privileges was preserved to the Lord High Constable or Great Constable both by the Treaty of Union (1707) and the Act for the Abolition of Heritable Jurisdictions in 1747. Lord Hay, the heir to all this, who now becomes Earl of Erroll, is 30. Goodnight.

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