Wednesday September 13, 1978

Donald Best got a lift with me and Jim this morning. He says the appointment of the Queen Mother as Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports is a ridiculous idea, and that Edward Heath, a Kentish man, with naval associations, would have been a more appropriate appointment. I cannot disagree more. The dear old Queen Mother will carry out the ceremonial like no one else. Donald is always very sarcastic about the Royal Family.

At 1pm I met Dave near the Poly and we walked across town to the Hofbräuhaus, where some of the lads from his course were assembled. It is a dark, smoke~filled cavern, full of people eating pork pies and mushy peas. We sat on the heavy trestle tables supping soapy ale from large jugs, and then it happened. Yes, on came the stripper. Yes, I know you are shocked and horrified, nay stunned, by this gross act of sexual perversion on my part, but that's what dissipated youngsters are doing these days. She wasn't much good and her dancing was moderate but what can you expect for 10p each? I will never listen to T-Connection again without breaking out into a cold sweat...... not.


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Wednesday May 18, 1977

A good Spring day combined, sadly, with diarrhoea. A sad sentence to have to compile, but very true.

Marita brought me as far as Rawdon in her mini and when I told her I'd been out with Carole on Thursday she went into raptures saying how perfect we are together and that I haven't looked as happy since May '76.

Tonight Tony and I went out and said that I - for twelve months - had given the appearance of being thoroughly bored by the company and that my face always held a look of far-off expectation. Is all this a big publicity campaign paid for by Carole?

Tony came up at 8.30 and we bumped into Pete Lazenby on Park Road and out of courtesy we accompanied him to Guiseley Working Mens' Club. Nice, cheap lager, but oh the people. Honestly, I'm no snob and no one likes good honest people more than me but the sight of the people therein is ghastly. As though they're hating every minute - just waiting for the sirens to go off summoning then back to the factory floor.

Stone Trough

On to the Stone Trough until 10.30. A completely dead place. Even the juke plays at a whisper. Later Tony comes back home for a cup of tea and egg mayonnaise sandwiches. We discus phases one, two and three and I insist that they were started by the Heath government in 1973.

Janet Land is visiting Lynn.



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Monday December 6, 1976

Not as cold today, everyone. Leave Thornton-le-Dale at 7.30 but don't get to Leeds until 10 o'clock. The car is knackered and we have to drive without the radio and heat, and a terrible noise came from the engine. A silent, pondering journey gazing out at the bleak North Yorkshire countryside - my thoughts turn to Edward Heath and his devolution speech and the more serious matter of my festering in-growing right toe-nail. Lynne sits, tightly wrapped, in a rain-coat looking straight ahead whilst these important issues pass before my eyes. My thoughts also turn to another weird dream I had last night. It was about Miss C.P. I become quite depressed just thinking about it.

Don't get to the YP until 10. A quiet, miserable day. Sarah is off of course, and Mrs Johnson tells me tales of wild activities over the weekend with several of her 'clients'. God only knows what she's trying to prove. Get a bus in pouring rain to Sarah's at 4.30. [It] takes about an hour to travel six miles, or however far it is these days from Leeds to Horsforth. 'Aunt' Delia is in high spirits and she presents me with a couple of [flower] arrangements for Mama and one for Lynne's mum. £3.50 each.
Delia shows me some photos of her with Lord & Lady Bath and other great aristocrats. Keith Michell too. Stay until about 6.30 when Sarah drives me home. I'm sure Sarah fancies me. I'm not one to fantasize am I?

Lynne comes over at 8.30. She stays 210.6 seconds. Not seeing her again until Thursday. Can't say I'm going to die of a broken heart before that wondrous meeting. See Woody Allen in the film 'Bananas' which is great and then retire to bed contemplating my rotting toe. Dad doesn't panic when he sees it and he advises me to bathe it. This I do.

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Tuesday October 19, 1976

Three years ago today I was celebrating my last day at school. What an eventful three years have passed since, not only for me as an individual, but for the whole nation. What historic events have occurred? The death of Edward Heath sticks out in my mind as one of the major tragedies. I lost my virginity. Princess Anne lost hers. Princess Margaret let herself go quite daft over Mr Llewellyn. My poor Uncle Jack bit the dust. Maria joined our great family. Mum became a grandmother. Helmut Schmidt became German chancellor. Poor old P.G. Wodehouse passed away. Miss Denise Akroyd was lost at sea some months ago. Oh Shit, I'm going home.

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Wednesday October 6, 1976

Good Old Uncle Harry's birthday [54th]. Take my umberella with me to Leeds this morning and, quite naturally, this particular region of the British Isles sees temperatures in the mid-nineties. Not a drop of rain to be felt within 48 million miles of my soddin' umberella.

See in the late editions of the EP that Margaret Hilda Thatcher attended the memorial service for the late Sir Edward Heath, thus ending months of speculation that at the time of the former PM's death the pair were not on the best of terms. Margaret Hilda really should have Sir Edward stuffed, mounted and placed on castors so that she can wheel the old gent onto the platform at the party conference each year. Votes would pour in.

Take the bear round to John's at 6 o'clock with Mum. See JPH and actually hold him in my arms. He's absolutely gorgeous. Mum cannot take her eyes off him. He was more interested in sucking his clothes and even thought Mum's ear was a source of nourishment. Maria looked a little pale. Didn't see much of John. Molly was full of cold, and so was Jim. Home at 7 o'clock for dinner and then it's decorating the hall and landing until 11.45pm. Believe it or not, I quite enjoy daubing paint on doors, walls and banisters, &c. So rewarding to stand back when it's all completed knowing you are responsible for the whole bloody lot.

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Wednesday April 21, 1976

The Queen, 50. Do not hear the alarm clock again and Mum wakes me at 8.20. To Leeds with Jim Rawnsley and study the national newspapers immediately upon my arrival at the YP. The Queen's party at Windsor went on until 3am today - and at 2.40am Her Majesty's time of birth - she was dancing around the Waterloo Chamber with the Duke of Edinburgh.

Some papers criticised Mr Callaghan for not attending and I can only see this as a snub to the Queen. Uncle Harold Wilson and Thatcher attended and even Edward Heath. She is already a legend in her own lifetime and it's hard to imagine how we could ever manage without her.

Meet Carole at 8.10 but only have one drink in the Hare before returning to our place for a coffee. She is behaving quite differently today bit I pretend I haven't noticed. She is doing her utmost not to be 'lovey dovey' and too serious with me.

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Monday March 22, 1976

It is rumoured that Uncle Harold (Wilson) will receive the Garter when he steps down from the premiership in two weeks time. The 'customary' earldom will not be accepted by the dear old thing because he's intending to carry on as an MP on the back benches.

I place customary in inverted commas because the Press always assumes that the Queen always offers an earldom to an outgoing Prime Minister at their final weekly tete a tete. This is not so. Church declined a dukedom but took the Garter, whilst Eden took the Garter plus the earldom. Macmillan refused all honours in 1963, and Home did 10 years in the Commons after his stint in No. 10. The old boy did return to the Lords as a cheap life peer a couple of years ago. Heath, I feel sure, won't have been offered anything because his relationship with Our Gracious Sovereign Lady was not a happy one - again, that is if the Press is to be believed. What is more, the circumstances of Heath's departure from that high office cannot have pleased Her Majesty.

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Monday February 10, 1975

A unusual Monday. After the usual ritual of work, John and I went to the Hare & Hounds where his ladyfriend had begged him to attend upon her. Quite a stunning piece she is too. Called Naomi, or 'Nay', an attractive name. It certainly made a change going out with a different crowd.

Had a letter from Denny today. She said she thought she'd been 'a cow' over the way she's ignored me and the happy family these past few months. I forgave her immediately. (Conceited swine that I am).

The Tory Fiasco reaches its cresendo tomorrow. Will it be Margaret Thatcher or old Willie Whitelaw? In my own mind I know that Mrs T will succeed, but anything can happen in politics. Have a bet with Sarah, Carol and Eileen. I stand to win 10p.

A year ago almost to the day I was saying that Mr Heath's (who's he?) leaning towards male company could not be doing him any good. I was right. One day you can be Prime Minister and the next you're just a middle-aged old puff who used to be a big shot in the Conservative party. Cruel, cruel politics.

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Wednesday February 5, 1975

Horrid day. Gordon Pickles, a reporter on the EP, was killed in a road accident in the early hours of the morning. I didn't know him really well, but it's nauseating to think I was laughing and joking with him on Monday about something in 'Private Eye'. Here today, gone tomorrow, or is it more appropriate to say 'here yesterday, gone today?'

To the Hare & Hounds with John, No one other than Andy arrives, but a pleasant evening is had. John and Andy certainy know a nice bunch of women, and I wonder what exactly I've been doing all these weeks while they've been pulling in the talent.

A silly old hag on 'Nationwide' tonight remarked that the late Mr Heath is 'a second Churchill' in his oratory abilities. She couldn't possibly be referring to the great Sir Winston, so I think she means either Baroness Spencer-Churchill ( a right little raver when she's roused) or her up and coming grandson, Mr Winston Churchill. God only knows where all this Tory party eye-wash will lead us.
Sit in bed with Agatha again. Finish 'The Mystery of Chimneys' - really entertaining. Pass out into a deep sleep at about 1 o'clock.

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Tuesday February 4, 1975

Busy day again. Kathleen goes home at lunch with 'flu. Never seen Kate ill before. See in the Sunday People that another young lady is denying a romantic relationship with the Prince of Wales. The difference this time is that she's married. Yes, Mrs Rosalind Ward, the wife of a young millionaire landowner. Like Edward VIII and Mrs Freda Dudley Ward in the early '30s. Can't really say I believe it, but you never can tell.

Wait for ages in the cold for a bus home and meet Marita on Wellington Street. We come home on the 35 together. Hear all about the love, passion and ecstasy of Sheffield at the weekend. Her 20th birthday celebrations went with a bang in more ways than one I can imagine.

See in the EP that Margaret Thatcher won todays battle for the Tory leadership, but even better news awaits me on my arrival home. Dad informs me that Edward Heath has conceded defeat and will not stand in next Tuesday's ballot! The Grocer is gone! Ted Heath is no more! Tories all over England will feel numbed by it all, other than Margaret Thatcher and myself that is. Mrs Thatcher captured my heart sometime last week when the current affairs programmes were going to town over her. An utterly charming lady, whom I'm sure the Queen would love to ask: 'Come on, Margaret. Form a government!' A weird feeling hangs over us all. As though a great cloud has moved from above, letting the sunshine through for the first time since 1965. Only the ending of a war, the death of a beloved monarch, and the freedom from prison of a man who has served 29 years for something he never did, can be likened to the resignation of the hopeless Edward Heath. To be rendered insane at the height of ones political career is tragedy indeed.

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Saturday February 1, 1975

Sleep until lunch at 12. Leap into the bath in order to revive myself, but even after this experience I don't really feel much better. All that sleep didn't seem to do any good.

See a film on the BBC and then go play 'Ruslan and Ludmilla' by Glinka and the prelude to Act III of Lohengrin by Mr Wagner. Yes, we aren't all unsophisticated Donny Osmond fans up here you know. The classics are as welcome here as they are in Covent Garden, and in some cases even more so.

My first free Saturday in years. Yes, I have the occasional one off, but it's much more pleasant to know that it's a permanent thing.

The papers are full of Edward Heath and Mrs Thatcher. I must admit, at first I abhored the idea of woman Tory leader, but these past few days have heralded a change. Good luck to her anyway. We certainly having nothing to lose. She can't make a worse mess of it than Heath did, and even if she does we'll forgive her because she's only a silly, dumb blond.

To the Hare & Hounds for a couple of drinks before moving on to a pub in Bingley, one of Andy's hang outs. The highlight of the evening was when Dave rang me up at 7 and said he was coming out. I'd no idea he was home this weekend. When the pubs shut John, Dave and I go to the new take-away in Guiseley. Food is horrible and what's more _______walked past on the arm of her boyfriend. ____ignored her completely.
Home in time to see a good Bette Davis film. Laughed all the way through. Sit in Lynn's bedroom until the early hours reading Agatha Christie.

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Wednesday January 29, 1975

A busy half day.Kathleen gives me a half-day off because she feels I've worked too hard lately - and this is the reward. Meet Christine outside the CA and we make our way to the Ostlers where I consume several pints of lager and spend a small fortune on the juke box. We go looking for tartan material in order to make some 'Rod Stewart style' scarfes. Don't find any we like, and proceed to make our way to the bus station. Masses of photographs are taken in a booth whilst waiting for a bus, and then fight and squabble over who is having which ones. Home at 3.30 or something very close & then sit in a chair with Agatha Christie. I really am passionate over reading at the moment, and having to wait for volume 2 of 'Edward VII' is hideous. Collapse underneath my book and sleep for ten minutes, which is weird for me. I'm becoming an old man before my time.

To the Hare with John, Christine and Chris at 8.45 - have a few lagers and then back here for coffee. Christine and I sit listening to records whilst John and Chris talk holiday brochures. I haven't the stomach to do so. A few nights with all these glossy magazines and I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Margaret Thatcher, Hugh Fraser and Ted Heath have been nominated for the Tory leadership, and it'll be a close battle between Uncle Ted and Mrs T. I'll die if the old bag wins. The thought of a woman Tory leader is repugnant in the extreme.

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Tuesday December 31, 1974

My half-day. Come home at 12.30 where everyone is rushing around preparing for the party tonight. Our famous parties grow more and more popular each year and we'll have to hold it in a marquee before very long. I clear all the rubbish out of the garage which has been piled there since Christmas. John helps me to burn it.

Mum is upset by Auntie Hilda, who informs her by way of the telephone, that the Gadsbys will not be patronising our Hogmany orgy this year. Mrs Gadsby really is the limit.
A sad day for this volume today. This is my final entry upon these pages, and in a few short minutes the book will be closed forever. What can I possibly say to put a fitting end to it? I know, I'll give a list of events which I think have been the most important of the year.

January: Vic Feather is raised to the peerage.

February: The Rt Hon Edward Heath resigns as Prime Minister; the Rt Hon Harold Wilson becomes PM (March 4)

March: Ian Ball attempts to kidnap Princess Anne, March 20; Lynn is 16 (March 6)

April: I am 19 April 5

May: Meet Judith Beevers (May 3)

June: Death of the Duke of Gloucester (June 10); John and I visit John and Sheila in Windsor

July: Finish with Judith Beevers (July 21)

August: Princess Anne, 24; Queen Mother, 74.

September: Lynn starts going out with Dave Baker; John is 18, Sept 25

October: General Election, Oct 10. Start going out with Lynne Mather

November: Finish with Lynne Mather

December: Santa Claus comes Dec 25.

Mary had a little pig,
She put it in a bucket,
But every time she took it out,
the Bulldog tried to put it back

Mary had a little lamb,
She also had a duck,
She put them on the matlepiece,
to see if they'd fall off

Mary had a little Pig,
She couldn't stop it grunting,
she stood it up against the sty,
and kicked its little head in

So, the year is nearly over. A new diary becomes operative from midnight. Hope you've enjoyed reading it. Obviously, I'm a boring writer and I cannot expect you to have devoured every sentence with rellish. I can understand you skipping a couple of months here and there. You're only human after all. Well, I'm going now. If you want to read about the party see the book headed '1975' in which a full and proper account of tonight's goings on will be preserved for posterity. God Bless you all, and a happy and prosperous New Year, which ever one it is next. After all, you could be a little chap from the 22nd century who has stumbled upon this diary. Wishing you a Happy New Year for 1975 would be a bit pointless, wouldn't it?

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Tuesday October 15, 1974

Good day really. Busy at the YP, and Carol is back after her sudden attack of generalelectionitis at the beginning of the month.

The Monday Club has asked Edward Heath to resign as party leader. He's going to speak to us all on the tv at 9.30 this evening.

Home at 6 and help Sue with her homework on volcanoes for about an hour. Ring Lynne but she isn't in. Speak to Peter instead and he says she'll ring me back later on. Is she being unfaithful? Am I to be deserted? All will be revealed.

Depart upstairs and dive into a warm bath to remove from my person the dirt and grime, odours and such like collected in my hard days toil at the YP.

Chris finished with Marita one year ago this very night. I can hardly remember them together. Last October seems a long, long time ago. Lynne rings at 9 and chats for half an hour. Meeting her tomorrow lunch. John goes out with Carol and sees Helen in the Woolpack, who says that Jackie's party is next Saturday, and wasn't last Saturday at all! Wild horses won't keep me away from this one.

See tv. A programme with Ludovic Kennedy on how the Tory party elects its leader. It includes old film of Sir Alec Douglas-Home and Harold Macmillan, &c. Poor Sir Alec. It was hardly worth his while renouncing the earldom (of Home).

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Monday October 14, 1974

Queen Jane Seymour died 1537. James II, born 1633. Busy day at the YP. The papers are full of poor Edward Heath, who looks like he's about to have his cards thrust upon him. The Tories are a very ruthless mob when it comes to being defeated. Take poor Sir Alec Douglas-Home for example. He got the chop for losing one general election. So, now Heath's lost TWO elections, and I cannot see the Monday Club allowing their hapless leader to continue in his miserable existence.

MUM PASSED HER DRIVING TEST!! Really, I should have gone with this at the top of the page. but I forgot all about it. She rang me at work whilst I was out of the office, and passed on the joyous information to Eileen. We are all thrilled at the thought of Mum behind the steering wheel, and soon I can forsee us having four drivers in the family. Don't ring Lynne tonight, though I will do before my half-day on Wednesday in order to arrange a lunch time booze-up, or something equally entertaining.

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Monday October 7, 1974

Weather terrible all day. Read biography of the Prince of Wales all night, with the exception of the 9 o'clock news. Denny rings after 9 to give her impressions of the letter I wrote to her on Saturday. She especially liked the bit about my not writing any more 'in case Auntie Evelyn sees this letter'. She's put one in the post for me, and I should be on the receiving end by tomorrow morning. See the election thing on the TV again, and decide that in this coming General Election I am going to vote Liberal. Neither Mr Wilson or Mr Heath have achieved anything int the past four and a half years, and I'm developing a growing admiration for Jeremy Thorpe. Besides, the liberals have had long enough out of office to have made some decisions about exactly what to do when they get in. (P.S. Harry, the driving instructor, calls after 9 to arrange my future driving lessons with him. I'm to take test on November 20, and have about six lessons before that. Should earn a few bob out of it for himself.)

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Monday September 30, 1974

Marita rings for a chat at 6.30. She needs cheering up. Evidently, MM goes to Sheffield tomorrow___________. Poor soul. ____________.She also informed me that Denny is down in the dumps, and is going out for her lunches with a regular escort. Nothing much else occurred in the conversation and it ended after about half an hour.

See TV all evening and nothing except the election is on. Michael Foot and William Whitelaw pulling each other to pieces, &c. However, Mr Whitelaw is a good chap, and I prefer him to Mr Heath, who is far too high minded to appreciate the problems facing Britain at the moment. Politics get me down, but Sir Alec Douglas-Home made a good point at the weekend when he said that politics may be dirty business, but the only alternative is dictatorship. It's a damn shame that poor Sir Alec didn't have longer at Number 10. I'm sure he was a better leader than Ted (Heath). But he got what all leaders get when they fail to win an election. Ted himself will receive a sharp kick in the pants if he fails to succeed on October 10. No doubt Mr & Mrs Whitelaw are planning to move into the Downing Street residence in later years.

See a good film called 'Otley' on BBC2. It's hilarious, dealing with spies, &c. Also see 'Emmerdale Farm' before coming to bed at 11.45.

Ugh, Mrs Ford, the wife of the US president, had one of her breasts removed in hospital at the weekend. The president probably won't stand for election in 1976 because of his wife's health. I expect it's cancer or something.

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Friday June 14, 1974

Scorching hot day. Up at 8.30 after a terrible night. Far too warm for comfort. John and Sheila go off to work and I persuade John to leave the house at 10.15. See in the morning papers that the Prince of Wales is dating a 20-year-old American, Laura Jo Watkins, and she was in the House of Lords yesterday to see him make his maiden speech to the peers.

Outside Windsor Castle by 10.20. A crowd gathers to see the goings on. See Edward Heath come, then Jeremy Thorpe and finally Harold Wilson. The Royal procession leaves Victoria Barracks, and 5 princes follow the cortege: the Prince of Wales, Duke of Edinburgh, the new Duke of Gloucester, the Duke of Kent and Prince Michael of Kent. We have a perfect view of the mourners, and they process through Windsor to the castle passing John and I not 3 yards away. Didn't see the Queen because she was already at the castle before the funeral.

Because of the heat John and I return to the house, where we see the funeral on tv.

Later: we take John and Sheila to the Hart and Garter in Windsor for a meal. Very enjoyable, and the bill, excluding wine etc, is only £7.50. Home and bed at 12.

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Monday March 4, 1974

A very historic day today. Take breakfast at 7.30, and the radio is disapointing again, giving nothing away on the present Constitutional crisis. All they can say is that Jeremy Thorpe holds the balance of power and the result of the Liberal/Tory negotiations will be announced today. Nothing is announced in any editions of the EP, but at 6.30 the result is announced on 'Nationwide'. Poor Mr Heath, having failed to unite with the Liberals, handed his resignation to the Queen. The scene outside No, 10 was stunning. Thousands of people shouting. Women weeping. Photographers waiting for the kill like half-starved vultures. Poor Mr Heath had to face them all at 6.30. At about 8 it was announced that Her Majesty had asked Mr Wilson to form a Labour government, which he accepted. So, within the space of 90 minutes Mr Heath was gone, and Harold and Mary were braving the Press and photographers on the steps of No 10. However, I must stress the point that the Labour Government is not like the one which took office in '64 - with the slightest opposition they can be defeated in the Commons and yet another General Election will be thrust upon our poor countrymen.

Dad sits smugly in his chair saying he knew all along that Harold would get back into office. Poor Ted is no doubt quite doomed to extinction now. I cannot really see him being returned to No, 10 ever again - poor old slob - he must feel a bit. I stagger to bed sobbing my heart out (not) - a Labour Government - ugh!

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Sunday March 3, 1974

1st in Lent. Out of bed at 10.30. Lynn says Denny rang last night - completely forgot about her - no doubt she'll kill me when we next come into contact.

Still deadlock at No 10, Downing Street. Jeremy Thorpe won't say what he's agreed to do with the Prime Minister, though the BBC say the Liberals won't ally themselves with the Tory party. Well, all we can do is wait and see. I know that I am a Tory, but I don't think Mr Heath should carry on any longer as PM. The Conservative party as a whole should realise that they have been defeated and do what any honourable government should do under the circumstances.


Alvin Stardust 'Jealous Mind'.

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