Saturday December 2, 1978

Sun rises 07:45 Sun sets 15:55

Mohammedan New Year {1399}

Snow and ice. Out of bed at 10:30 and had eggs and bacon with David and watched the snow cast a shroud over Burley~in~Wharfedale. I must be dreadfully spoiled at home because this house is just too cold for me. Lynn and Dave just don't seem to notice. No doubt they have become used to the cold, freak, indoor conditions.

I helped Dave with a few chores and he brought me home at about 1pm. Lynn went off to Otley Christmas shopping and Dave returned to his DIY escapades. I went to wallow in a hot bath to de~frost my blue extremities. Passed the remainder of the afternoon idling around and doing bugger all.

Out with Christine at 8:15 to the Shoulder, then the New Inn in Yeadon, and finally to the Fox. Sue, Pete, Gus, Chippy and Frank H were in the Fox. Frank says he's going to Crumpet, at Batley, on Dec 15, to celebrate his 21st. Great stuff.

Christine was monopolised by Philip Houldsworth and Garry Walton, and I made her make a hurried departure with me at 11. Slightly foggy. We drove to the Il Trovatore at Ilkley but were refused admission because CB was wearing jeans! This a phenomena. I cannot stand the place anyway. Undaunted, we went on to Oakwood Hall, arriving at 12:15. The place was packed out with Christmas revellers and the whole place was bedecked with artificial Christmas trees, tinsel, and trimmings. It put us in a very festive frame of mind. I became quite pissed but Christine didn't touch alcohol because of the gruesome weather conditions. Home after 2 with bleary eyes and a raging headache. Pernod ~ ugh!

-=-

Saturday January 28, 1978

Sun rises 07:45 Suns sets 16:42

Up at 11. Naomi's 21st birthday party. I went to 10, Southway at noon. Susan was laughing as I headed down Hawksworth Lane with my coat pulled over my head reminiscent of a Saudi Arabian.

with WPC Carolle Jones.

Tremendous party. In answer to the question "Do Unitarian ministers get pissed at lunchtime?" it would only be fair to answer: "No, they do not. But they help everyone else become horribly so". The Rev. and Mrs Downing are very friendly, but old. His Reverence told me, quite confidentially, over the bottles in the kitchen, that he had celebrated his 39th birthday on his honeymoon.

Everyone you can possibly think of turned up. CB, Philip H, Carole, Fogarty, and Carolle Jones, of whom I am terribly fond. However, the vast quantity of booze proved hazardous for public relations. CB was pissed and in tears when her young man cleared off with fat Lynne from the Oval, and Fogarty took Carole home at about 3 after he discovered us fraternising in the 'bar'. She only had her arm through mine, nothing sexual. I felt awful about this because it ruined her afternoon. She told me she will write next week.

Naomi is divinely attractive, as is the nosh. Alas, garlic cropped up in most items on the menu. Richard Wellock had to smuggle CB home at 6 or perhaps 7, and Carolle J and I were left romantically linked. She's joining the police force a week on Monday.

Events from now become dreadfully hazy. Burley in Wharfedale, Flying Pizza, lager, cousin Dorothy, pool tables, Carolle in my old raincoat, &c. Yes, all this splashing around in my lager logged brain. I recoil in horror at the thought of visiting my fierce cousin Dorothy. C and I were horribly pissed, but as far as I can remember Dorothy was diplomatically silent on this. Carolle in my filthy, old raincoat looked spectacular. The Wharfedale Gate was the last pub we visited I'm sure. We were later refused entry at Il Trovatore before finding success at the Elma. Danced with Carolle all night and her last words to me were: "This time we must definitely keep in touch, Michael", said with a certain knowing look.

Home into bed with a gruesome headache at 1:45am.

-=-

Saturday September 3, 1977

Eileen and Michael's wedding day. David B and I went to see Sarah & Delia at 12 and we took photos of the dogs on the Collis's spacious lawn. From here we went to the Queen's Arms just for one solitary drink. I haven't been in the Queen's for a couple of years, in fact since the pub crawl with Sarah and Carol J when I proposed marriage, amongst other things, to Miss Collis.

Left David at about 1pm and went to the YP to collect Kathleen. Together we went to Mirfield and the Dusty Miller pub for a few more. We arrived at the church at 2 o'clock just as Eileen arrived on the arm of her father. By 2.30 they were married. At the reception I was on a table with Delia, Sarah, Kathleen and Steve (the lad from the stag party). Eileen looked very happy.

Delia brought me home at 5.30 and tonight Dave B and I went to the Malt Shovel at Baildon. Joined by Tony and Martyn and at 11.30 we collected Naomi and went to a barbecue at Carlton. John and Maria were there. On to Il Trovatore where Naomi and I danced with a string of tinsel. When she brought me home at 2.30 we put up the Christmas decorations.

-=-

Friday August 12, 1977

A good day. Eileen and I met Tony outside the YP at about 1pm and we had three or four drinks in the Central. Tony came back to the YP for the afternoon and had Carol J swooning all over him. In fact she did no work from when he arrived, sat, quite besotted, on her desk, with her legs rubbing up against his. It was bloody painful. Eileen was becoming quite violent about it and if I hadn't made the tea a full scale war could easily have broken out. Tony went off to a dental appointment at about 4. ________.

Tonight: Tony, Martyn and Stuart came up at 8.30 followed by Peter M and Chris. Sue, Pete N and Janet Simon joined us and we went to the Bod. Michelle, Toni and a girl called Mary came in. Mary was so fanciable you just wouldn't believe it. She was quite tanked up.

From the Bod most of us went to Il Trovatore. I was with Mary all night and it proved to be one of the most successful in ages. We got on like a house on fire. The only thing is that she has a ruddy boyfriend stashed away somewhere.  So attractive too. I told her she looked like the singer Dana, but she said Vera Lynn was closer to the mark.

Back to Tony's at 2am, and the ladies brought me home at something like 4 o'clock. A diabolical time. Don't know what sort of reception I'll get if I see Mary again but one thing's for sure folks - Michael's in love again.



-=-

Friday July 1, 1977

Dominion Day, Canada. Nice hot day for a change. Revolting day at the office with no time at all to speak to anyone. Coming home on the bus I realised I hadn't phoned Carole. Sod it.  No doubt she'll contact me before our date tomorrow.

Meanwhile that night: To a few pubs in Baildon with Tony and Martyn. Then to the Bod. Tony says I'm subdued, but I don't feel miserable at all.

Muggy, overpowering heat in the taverns and clothing was discarded by many. It was refreshing to see a bit of thigh for a change. Nothing quite like a half clothed female. In the Bod Maxine and Sue were to be found. The latter, in Tony's words, is a 'cock teaser'. She fondled Martyn's genitals as though she was handling 2lb of King Edward's. They propositioned them to go to Il Trovatore but after Maxine asked mummy's permission and was refused the glint faded from Martyn's eye. His evil plan had been thwarted.

They dropped me off at Pine Tops and then went on the pilage.

No message from Carole. Tony offered to call in and see her tomorrow morning but I told him not to. We need no go-between and if she can't be bothered to enquire as to my reasons for not phoning her, especially after her deceit, cheating and lies she can just piss-off.

-==-

Thursday June 16, 1977

Out with Carole, Naomi and Martyn tonight. Yes, a weird combination of loonies but if you don't do silly things like this when you're young it will soon be time to grow up. I am cheerful and robust all day and look forward to the night on the town - determined not to squabble with Miss Phillips or mention Fogarty.

Carole: called me 'Peter'

Naomi and Carole called for me at 8.20 and we drove over the moor to Ilkley to collect Mr Cole. Some idiots were hang-gliding near the Cow & Calf rocks and I opened the car window and waved and shouted at them much to Naomi's amusement. Carole was quiet. She didn't look at me after leaving home. Even when I came out of the house and got in the car she was sitting hunched and looking in the opposite direction.

The four of us went to Neville's. Carole immediately got off to a lousy start. On to the Craven Heifer. Sat like morons. She infuriates me by repeatedly asking: "what's the matter?" And I infuriate her by replying: "what do you mean by what's the matter?" Silly, eh? Naomi too isn't all that better - sitting like a High Court judge - a real bundle of fun.

From the Craven Heifer it was obvious that if Naomi were to go to Oakwood Hall the strain would probably kill her and so it was back to Martyn's for coffee (his mama and papa are holidaying).

We summoned a priest to administer the last rites to Naomi but he arrived too late. Carole spilt hot coffee all over her foliage (sic) and I gave up my shirt for her and wore one of Martyn's. We both had a gin and attempted some conversation. I was so glad that Martyn was in the room to hear it because I thought it was me who was going insane. We are just incompatible. Every sentence ends in a dispute. Carole asks: "Michael, why do we hate each other so much?" I don't hate her one bit. She just cannot be happy with me. Sipping the gin she called me 'Peter'. Martyn found this hilarious and kept mentioning the weather saying we might be having a 'foggy' start in the morning. (You know, FOGarty. Ha Ha).

The girls went home at 12.30 and Martyn and I went on to Il Trovarore which lived up to its usual standard. Back to Martyn's £3 later. Slept in the spare room - soundly.

-=-

Friday June 10, 1977

Carole phoned me at the office and apologised for her abominable behaviour last night. I accepted her apology and she kept repeating her apologies over and over again. She put it down to the atmosphere at Oakwood (Hall) and suggests going to the cinema to see 'A Star is Born' next Thursday.

She says she's sending something in the post. No doubt another apology. I feel sure she went out last night with every intention of causing trouble and anarchy - she's just like her revolting mother.

Phoned Tony this evening and he analysed the situation for me. Carole only behaves in such an antagonistic way, he says, because deep down inside she wants to behave in exactly the opposite way. Er, right. Rubbish if you ask me. The girl is just mucking me about. However, it is impossible to tell Tony that.

Within minutes he rings back to say Naomi and Carole want to know if we fancy an evening at Il Trovatore. I agree.  He laughs and says "what did I tell you?" Just what did he tell me? To the Bod with Tony & Martyn. Tony is quiet and reflective. From here we went with Michelle and Co to the Hare & Hounds at Heaton. Then on to the mortuary-like Il Trovatore. Linda is in with Denny and Naomi and Carole don't arrive until after12. She arrives with a new hair-style and looks stunning. I dragged her off to the balcony until 2. She won't let me kiss her and is extremely cool. She was still very apologetic about the Oakwood Hall incident but I still feel as though I'm playing the mouse to her cat.

Naomi brought us home. I prayed for our safety en route. When Naomi's had a few she's the maddest driver on the road.

Tuesday June 7, 1977

A tremendous historic day. I had a restless night and alighted from my bed just after nine this morning. Took a seat near the television and remained in that position all day.

No words can adequately describe the pageant of the procession through London to St Paul's Cathedral by the Queen and the Duke in the State coach - not used since her coronation 24 years ago this month. The Queen was dressed in pink and looked amazing. In the cathedral, and later at the Guildhall, she seemed to be overcome with emotion and appeared 'lost' amidst it all - very unusual because I have never seen her show emotion at all. The crowds in the Mall were wondrous and the balcony scenes- in pouring rain - were magnificent. The Peter Lazenbys and Willie Hamiltons of this world have lost.

Balcony scene: June 7 1977

John and Maria called in this afternoon to see if someone could babysit for JPH tonight. They're going out with Molly and Jim tonight. (John says Jim won £40 on the horses yesterday). ______. Mum and Dad went down to Silverdale Drive at 7.15. Neither in boisterous mood.

Tony phoned and I told him that Il Trovatore was completely 'out' tonight due to lack of funds and I was faced with the prospect of a night alone. Lynn is working at the Hare. Sue and Peter are out. So just after 7.30 I took to my bath. Watched television. Yes, the edited highlights of the Jubilee with an excellent commentary by Tom Fleming, and at 11 a Laurence Oliver/Katharine Hepburn epic. To bed at 1am.

The close of a magnificent day of pageant, splendour and occasion. Let's hope that the Queen will be around in another 25 years time because Elizabeth is all that the United Kingdom can ever be.

-==-

Friday February 25, 1977

We had a good evening out. Tony and Martyn came up to Pine Tops at 9 o'clock. Mum and I were listening to 'Raphsody on a Theme by Paganini' by Serge Rachmaninov, and Tony shouted 'Oh great, it's Barry White'. This amused Mum.

Il Trovatore

We went to the Ukrainian Club in Bradford. I'm seriously thinking about adopting Ukrainian nationality. If the drinks prices over there compare with those in the clubs here I'm going on the next flight. We all had doubles, including Michelle and Keith,  and the price of the round came to £1. We departed quite drunk at 11 for Oakwood Hall, where only last week we vowed to miss for a couple of weeks. We must be addicted to the revolting place. We decide that nothing is to be lost in going on to Il Trovatore, and so we leave at 11.30 passing Chris, Peter M, and Laura's .boyfriend, Dave Paterson. At Il Trovatore Tony and Martyn make a dive for Naomi and Miss Moorhouse and I stand about like a spare part until 2am. I did approach a familiar looking lady from the Wikis era and received an immediate snub. Piss off the lot of you.

Raphsody on a Theme by Paganini by Rachmaninov