Tuesday April 10, 1979

_.  Jim Rawnsley insists that the so-called Yorkshire Ripper is none other than the Earl of Harewood, our ugly royal opera fanatic. Jim's theory is that he [the Ripper] has to be a member of the Royal Family in the tradition of Jack the Ripper, of Victorian London, who undoubtedly was Edward, Prince of Wales. I smiled at all this as we journeyed to Leeds because Jim expounds his theory in such a charming and amusing way. Wouldn't it be marvellously embarrassing for the YP if this was so? Whilst the fiend was in the boardroom swilling gin and humming along to Wagner with Gordon Linacre, forty thousand journalists are scouring the county searching for clues. Sadly, the identikit mug shots of the supposed mad man bear no resemblance to his Lordship. Another likely candidate, according to Jim, is Brigadier Kenneth Hargreaves, the former Lord Lieutenant of this charming, picturesque county.

I am enraged and spitting blood at the bloody civil servants strike, which is affecting the payment of my national savings certificate. I need £120 in May [to pay for my holiday] and things don't look very bright at all. The pigs wouldn't be on strike at all if only this country had the proper leadership. What are we coming to, for God's sake?

I have been reading my journal from five years ago and do you know I seem to have been more intellectual and mature than I am now. Writing about Napoleon III and his social policy I was. Blimey, it's quite frightening but I've already forgotten most of my history and Napoleon III means little or nothing to me now. Is my brain rotting away?

Mum and Dad went off to see Marlene and then Mabel after tea. They say they will lend me the £120 until my national savings money arrives.

Sue is full of cold again and her nose is glowing like a furnace. Pete arrived and we watched the Academy Awards on TV.

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Sunday December 24, 1978

4th Sunday in Advent.

Christmas Eve. Lynn's first Christmas party (at Lawn Rd) tonight. I am ill and taking a Yuletide recess.

We watched a film show (provided by Marlene and Frank) of Lynn and Dave's wedding. Auntie Mabel wiped her spectacles a few times and people shuffled in their seats.

Santa Claus came at 10. Auntie Mabel exclaimed: "Oh, what a sexy old Santa!" It wasn't the real Santa at all, it was David Greenwood __________________________.

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Friday October 6, 1978

Woke up with a really bad head at 7:30. I annoy Sue because I refuse to be enthusiastic first thing on a morning. After all, I didn't actually climb into my bed until 4am, and that came after gulping down more plonk with Jim & Margaret. It's Margaret's birthday on Tuesday ~ another excuse for a party.

Work was like Hell on earth. My eyes took on a scarlet hue and a pale, revolting complexion took over and occupied my face. However, at 1pm Sarah, Carol J, Eileen and I went across to Parker's. It was hideous. I simply could not drink and felt quite faint.

Eileen was like a stuffed osprey in the natural history section of the British Museum, or wherever they store the stuffed, glassy eyed birds. Sarah met an old flame and proceeded to chat him up. I could take no more and wandered outside at 2 and sat on a wall to wait for them. All too ridiculous for words.

Jacq phoned this afternoon and asked: "Is this Let's Be Nasty to Jacq Week?" __________________________________.

After tea Auntie Mabel, Marlene, Frank. Mark & Debbie came bringing the cine film of the wedding. It's marvellous and well worth seeing. I was too tired to be at my best with relatives. Bed at 11:30.

Lynn, Dave, Sue and Pete set off late to Alison's to be kitted out with bridesmaid dresses, &c for the forthcoming marital celebrations. They're due back late tomorrow.

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Monday September 11, 1978

Auntie Eleanor is 51 today, and my cousin Marlene is 33.

Took Dave G to Leeds and he went off in search of the K block at the Polytechnic where he starts a week's catering course dealing with special diets.

Back to the YP and down to earth after the high of the wedding. Mum and Dad came to the office this afternoon with a proof of Lynn & Dave from the photographer Bryan Waite. I handed it over to Fred Willis, who says he'll get it in tomorrow's EP.

Dad says he took some floral displays to the Yorkshire Bank in Guiseley this afternoon. Just how creepy can you possibly get? Just imagine the manager, 'Tammy Wynette' Osborne, dancing among his bank notes with garlands of orchids and gladioli festooned everywhere. Nauseating.

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Sunday January 22, 1978

9th Sunday before Easter.

Up late. Breakfast was cheerful and witty. Dave is always in his element first thing. My dynamo never becomes fully charged until after sunset, which is a sad thing.

We all went to Marlene and Frank's for a party this afternoon. Auntie Mabel was on form playing Scrabble with Mark & Debbie. One of her words was "TIT". We all dissolved.

Lynn asked Debbie to be one of her bridesmaids. Lynn and Dave left early to go to Audrey Baker's, and Sue and Pete were almost asleep with boredom. I tend to enjoy these family functions and don't understand how so many youthful people give up on them and lay down and die.

Wharfedale Gate, Arthington.

By 7pm Sue & Pete could stand no more and they brought Dave and I back to Guiseley. The four of us (Sue, Pete, Dave and I) went to the Malt Shovel at Burley-in-Wharfedale and then on to the Wharfedale Gate where Dave and Pete showed Sue the rudiments of pool. Or was it billiards? I don't know the difference anyway. It made an excellent change from the norm. Sue is in her element surrounded by men. I am sure she could go on holiday to a foreign land with a coach party of Rugby League players and have no qualms.

On to a Chinese take-away where we made pigs of ourselves. Back at Pine Tops I entertained Dmitri, our feline friend from next door, and we said our goodbyes to David. A good weekend.

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Friday August 5, 1977

Out of bed at 9.30. Quite a pleasant looking morning for a change. Tony came at 10.30 and took me to Pudsey before driving off for Huddersfield, or somewhere. By 11am I'm at Auntie Mabel's with coffee and her home made ginger buns. Marlene, Mark & Debbie are visiting too. They talk about _____________.

Dave, Lynn, Alison Dixon and John Pinder

The five of us had a good lunch and Marlene left with the children at about 2. I sat with Auntie until 6. We laughed at her old photos and strangely enough some of the funniest are the most recent. The fashions at cousin Derek's wedding were amazing, and it's only five years ago.

Auntie says she goes to Rawdon Crematorium some days just to walk in the gardens and look at the book of remembrance.

I'm home at 7 just in time to see Lynn and Dave set off for Winchester and subsequently Italy. I felt quite envious as they set off down the lane all beaming with excitement.

Chris and Peter M come with the holiday photographs and they are bloody fantastic. Joined by Tony and Martyn and John. We all went to the Bod leaving John with Mum & Dad. A good night in Bradford, going on to Heaton's Hare & Hounds. Tony's party tomorrow. Sue, Pete and I are going down to the flat to help him prepare.


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Friday February 18, 1977

If you could see me now you'd say I didn't have all that long left to live. In fact, at this moment, I closely resemble the Rt. Hon. Charles Anthony Raven Crosland, Secretary of State for Foreign & Commonwealth Affairs. Pneumonia may well have set in. However, at great personal loss and danger I struggled into the offices of the Yorkshire Post and did a fair days work.

Home by 5pm. Have a sirloin steak with Lynn. We had a good chat too.  Oh she is so like her big brother. Mum and Dad were at Marlene's for tea and Sue was at the hairdressers until 7pm.

Oakwood Hall.

Martyn came here at 8.15 and Tony at 8.30. Down to the Hare & Hounds to see Judith. CB (who rang me this morning) comes down to the Hare and reminds me about her 21st birthday party on March 11. Andy and Linda, Chris and Pete M are in too. To the Shoulder of Mutton on Hollins Hill. It's a strange pub. We move on to Bingley after one pint. On to good old Oakwood Hall. When I say 'good old' Oakwood Hall I don't actually mean it. In fact it was 'bloody lousy' Oakwood Hall. Martyn was on good form, Tony was fed up. I was miserable - probably because I've over done it a bit lately, I don't know. Home at 2am. Discuss tomorrow. Definately no discotheque. I'm helping Tony move to Ilkley so we may well end up in the flat - an orgy of merriment and piss. (By piss, I mean booze of course. I'm not addicted to urine like Mr Hitler was).

Note: where's Miss Phillips been of late? Her Royal Highness must surely be 'Fogartising' even though rumour has it that they've finished. I have her new phone number but I don't want to use it. When I see her I really enjoy it, but I don't want to do so by appointment.

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Wednesday September 15, 1976

Mum and Dad go to Auntie Mabel's for a couple of hours. Susan, Lynn, Peter and I take up the carpet in my room and begin tearing the wallpaper from the walls as though we're berserk. The redecoration of Pine Tops is under way. Susan laughs at my colourful language as I roll up the carpet and pays me the marvellous complement of being like John Cleese - or 'Basil Fawlty' whom he so remarkably portrays.

Mum and Dad return home at 11pm. They saw cousin Jackie and her boyfriend Peter at Marlene's [they hadn't been to Mabel's at all]. Mum asks me if Peter is the one who is married and I say yes. Nothing further was said on the subject. To bed knackered.

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Monday August 23, 1976

Need I mention the weather? Just take it from me that things remain just the same until I give you further notice.

At work Sarah tells me that Peter [Baker] says he is a divorcee, but she doesn't believe him, and thinks he may still be married. She thinks it would be interesting to investigate him. We need a private detective on the job.

Marlene, Frank, Auntie Mabel and the children come here after tea. At 7.30 Sue, Pete and I walk down to Silverdale Drive to see John & Maria's house. They got the key on Friday morning. John was putting up a cornice in his dining area but it soon became too dark to work. After a quick inspection of the upstairs paintwork he brings us home in the VW. Mum had departed to Maria's to see Molly.

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Sunday March 7, 1976

1st in Lent. A funny Ha Ha day. Wake up at what seems like late afternoon but it's only lunchtime. Uncle Harry is just making off downstairs and I yell my farewells through the bannister. I will never forget the hysterics we had in the early hours of this morning.

Marlene, Frank and the kids come half an hour after I'm up and the screams of childish laughter aren't the remedy for a hangover at all. To avoid further punishment we, that is Carole, Sue, Pete, Jackie and I walk down into Guiseley in a mild snow storm (not joking either) and we end up at 69, Silverdale Drive - John's future abode. Everyone remarks how tiny the place is, but we all agree it's all they require - that is unless Maria is blessed with quads or sextuplets.

Back to our place for 4 where Marlene & Frank are still being entertained. We talk of memories of Marlene & Frank visiting us at Goldthorpe, &c, and of John's baby speech defect. (He found difficulty pronouncing the letter 'R').

For the rest of the afternoon and evening we're sat in front of the TV and I go to bed at about 12.30 after having had a whisky with Jackie & Mum. David, who is 20 tomorrow, took Carole home at about eleven o'clock.

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Sunday February 15, 1976

Septuagesima. Woke up at 11.30 with a hangover. I must have been pissed last night.____.

I don't like the way Christine treats Carole at times. No love is ever lost between them. One thing that's particularly grating is the way Christine insists on calling Carole "Fanny" in a very cold manner.

Marlene, Frank & the children come round after lunch and they bring John a little engagement gift.

Carole rang at 2pm and we went to see 'The Return of the Pink Panther' at Leeds with Susan and Peter at 5pm. The film is hilariously funny. Peter Sellers' accent is brilliant. We got a bus home - the the White Cross - and the four of us devoured fish and chips at Harry Ramsden's. Carole felt as though one of her headaches was coming on and I deposited her on a bus homeward. I returned home in a descending fog.

Poor Carole is still having parent trouble and it all stems from the business about me being 'tight-fisted'. The Phillipses are funny buggers and I have long harboured the opinion that Lady Phillips is deranged and psycopathic, but it's hardly my place to go into the old hag's faults here in these pages. She is so horrible that she would in fact make a perfect mother-in-law.

Bed at 12 o'clock midnight.

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Sunday December 21, 1975

Work tonight ..... Ugh!

Marlene, Frank, Mark and Debbie are visiting Mum & Dad.

Go to Maria's place at 2.30 to see Carole for a few hours before going into the office. Sit with Carole, Maria and John in front of the tv for a couple of hours until 4 o'clock, just as they are about to start Sunday dinner.

Work was completely dull, as it invariably is on a Sunday, and I leave at 10.30.

See the end of a pre-war Humphrey Bogart film and consume several whiskies, which give me a sudden burst of Christmas spirit.

Do not rellish work in the morning. I wish that Santa Claus could come a few days early for a change. Somehow I don't think he will.

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Sunday November 30, 1975

Advent Sunday. St Andrew's Day. Wake up feeling quite normal considering the amount of alcohol I consumed at the Minstrel's Gallery.

Carole rings me from Maria's to say they are going to church this afternoon and 'do you mind if I don't see you until teatime?' I say I'll just about survive (God knows how) and return to the lounge to discuss food with Lynn and Dave. We are all on the verge of starvation and the aroma of Mum's cooking doesn't help much.

Marlene, Frank and the children come round at 2 for lunch and because of the large numbers involved we have to have two sittings in the dining room. I am on second sitting with John, Lynn, Sue, Dave and Pete.

I spend the afternoon playing a chess-like game with Frank. Really cosy it was too,and made such a change from the usual Sunday afternoon activities. Frank was clad in pink socks, orange and green checked trousers, a white shirt with black men all over it, a lime green and blue striped tank top, and a repulsive vomit coloured tie. However, I do suppose that one goes through a phase like this when one hits 30. Funny really.

The Harwoods go at 5.30 and John and I are summoned to the Macdonald residence. Mr & Mrs Mac are keeping vigil around grandfather's hospital bed but hope is fading fast. They look at his possible passing quite objectively though. I suppose to Roman Catholics death is like going on holiday.

After an hour at the Macdonald stately pile I leave, for health reasons, with Carole in the direction of home. We watch television, and that's about it really. Nothing thrilling or outrageous. Just the days events as seen through the eyes of a raving lunatic called Michael Rhodes.

NEWS: Graham Hill, the racing driver, was killed in a plane crash last night. Now I'll just go upstairs and lay down.

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Friday August 8, 1975

Last day at work for over two weeks, and I can't say I'm sorry to get away. Home at 6 o'clock in pouring rain. Thunder and lightning. The lamp in Lynn's bedroom exploded (in the storm) and quite unpeturbed she went on drying her hair with the hairdryer plugged into the same socket!

We were chasing round the house stuffing things in suitcases - Uncle Jack, Auntie Mabel, Marlene, Frank & the children arrived after tea.

At 9 o'clock we'd finished everything and John went off to the Hare with Maria to say a final goodbye. I went down with Lynn and Dave for a quick pint but didn't enjoy it one bit. It's a nerve wrecking experience going off to the other side of the world with only a younger brother and an absent minded bank clerk (no insult intended, Chris).

Mum and Dad take us to the Wellington Street bus station at 10.30 and we bid our fond farewells. Leave Leeds a few minutes after 11 and I'm awake all night until we get into Victoria coach station at 5am. John slept, as he usually does, like a three month old baby. Lucky lad.

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Tuesday May 13, 1975

Weird day. Cold, sunny, thundery, and then quite warm. I couldn't really fathom what it wanted to do to us at all. However, the sun shone at 4.30 when I went for my bus which is all that matters really because it is the only time of day when I'm exposed to the elements.

Auntie Mabel went into hospital today in order that a surgeon could examine her breast. It may be a cyst, but one never knows, what with breast cancer on the increase. Auntie is a reasonably healthy woman and at 56 she stands every chance of making a brilliant recovery. Poor Marlene will worry though, because she is totally devoted to her mother.

Do nothing this evening other than look in at the television which is a good night tonight. See 'Edward VII' of course and once more revel in the delights of Annette Crosbie's Queen Victoria. Also see a programme on the war years in the north of England. Horrible scenes of devastation in Sheffield and Hull and moving film of visits by King George VI and Queen Elizabeth to the bombed areas. Dad was quite choked because he was eleven when the VE Day celebrations were going on, and all that ancient, crackly old film brought the memories flooding back to him.

I'd like to write more but the difficulty in sharing a bedroom with ones younger brother is that they sometimes feel awkward and tired even though it's only 11.30pm. So before he climbs from 'neath his sheets and kills me I'd better conclude this entry and retire. Goodnight everyone, and God Bless.

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Sunday May 11, 1975

Sunday after Ascension. Approximately 1am: Somehow the photo of Barbra Streisand isn't as beautiful as it was the other day. What can have happened? Do you want me to tell you? OK -- you see I'm so violently in love it isn't conceivable. Why do I always manage to become impassioned with a woman who finds it impossible to feel the same way about me? I might as well become infatuated with Lady Sarah Armstrong-Jones because I'm sure it would be more profitable than pursuing Christine. Women in love with other people are to be avoided at all costs- that is if you're the 'give in' type - which I AM NOT!

12.30pm. Susan and Peter went to the Hare & Hounds for a meal last night, but joined me in a drink first. John and Co went galavanting off on another Saturday evening pub crawl in the far flung reaches of the Yorkshire Dales. I put my foot down and said I would stay in the Hare tonight no matter what. Christine came at 8.15 and after S and P had departed into the restaurant we were left quite alone. After discussing the loss of her purse and the loss of her Gary we proceeded to drink gallons of alcoholic refreshment - on the whole a superb occasion. Lynn and Dave came in for the last drink and after seeing C onto her bus we came home (Dave, Lynn, Sue, Pete and me) to Pine Tops to see TV until about 1.30.

Anyway, I've filled in half a page discussing the events of yesterday which leaves me little room to discuss the events of this day, but I'll attempt to do so now.
Warm and sunny with a fair amount of cloud, but not a patch on last Sunday. Arose at about 12 and had lunch immediately .

Mum and Dad went to Marlene's for tea and came back with the news that Auntie Mabel has a growth on her breast - cancer? It looks very likely. Poor old Auntie.

Dave and Lynn entertained me at home in the evening and we polished off another bottle of wine.

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Saturday April 12, 1975

Marlene, on the phone, gets me out of bed at 11.45. Debbie has mumps and so they can't come on Sunday. I offer my condolences then go downstairs on a mission of mercy for John, who wants a glass of orange juice, and I'm not the sort of person to see a close relative suffer when the antedote is so close at hand. Whilst getting John's juice I find a letter awaiting me from Christine. She says "you ought to be more bold where women are concerned", and I cannot agree with her more. Not many people think I'm shy. I somehow conceal it behind a mask of foolery, but I really am quite like a guinea pig, or expectant rabbit, as far as showing my feelings for young ladies are concerned. Not that guinea pigs or expectant rabbits are scared of showing their affections for young ladies in the first place. Of course, they do show affection, quite boldly, to lady guinea pigs and lady rabbits, which is an example I should get into the habit of following.

Go to Yeadon with Mum and Dad at about 3 o'clock and I lay hands on a copy of 'Lady Marmalade' by Labelle. A wonderous record indeed.

At 7.15 Sue, Peter, Mum, Dad and me go up to the Stone Trough for a meal. Why? Well, it's part of my birthday festivities carried over from last week. Very pleasant, except for the fact that the waitress begrudged giving us anything. Back at 11 o'clock and sit with Dave and Lynn in front of a revolting old film on the BBC.

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Saturday February 8, 1975

Up at noon. John and I take the car into Guiseley and then get a train into town (Leeds). Wander round aimlessly looking in shop windows and laugh at the craze which certain male members of our generation have adopted - wearing trousers ridiculously short. Poor lads - they've no idea at all. Home at about 5.
Marlene, Frank and the kids have come for tea. Mark is a nice little lad and we have several games of marbles before and after tea.

Leave for the Hare & Hounds at 8 so that John can attempt to pick up the girl he was with yesterday at Wikis (Naomi Downing). We're going to Tiffany's by the way. The female doesn't respond and we leave for the Fleece empty handed. Pick Christine B up and then meet Peter Mather and Andy in the Fleece. Have several drinks whilst waiting for Lynn & Dave. Andy goes down to the Hare & Hounds and well drive like hell let loose to Leeds. Never again. Tiffany's is the most diabolical so called disco I have ever had the misfortune to attend. Nobody in there looked younger than 65. Most of them with fond memories of Disraeli's last government and the Relief of Ladysmith. Truly revolting. Have a laugh all the same but vow with all my heart, body and mind, never to set foot in the place again as long as I live. The others liked the place, and some were so taken in by it all that they actually said they'd go again! Back to Ratcliffe Hall for coffee until nearly 4am. Absolutely tired and shagged out after the exertions of the evening. Bed and deep sleep at the unearthly hour of 5 o'clock.

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Saturday October 19, 1974

King John died 1216. Oliver Wilson born 1893.

Up feeling sprightly at 7. Poor Lynn was taken ill late last night & does not get up with us. I have an orange juice.

Go to the YP. Home at 12.30. Spend an hour in the bath.

Marlene, Frank, and children come at 2 and stay to tea. Very disappointed at about 6.20 when I ring Lynne. We want to go to this party but nobody else wants to. Subsequently we decide not to bother going out at all & call it a day. Promise to see her on Sunday at all costs.

Mum says I can accompany her, Dad, Marlene and Frank to the Commercial, and we all go at 8.30. Back at 10 to find Lynn and Dave entertaining the kids. My powers of persuasion fail to attract Lynn and David to the idea of the party at beloved Jackie's, and when John, Carol, Andy and Linda arrive they are also unmoved at the thought of an orgy at the Woolpack. Sit by candle-light watching a revolting film starring Ann-Margret. Bed at 1 feeling very unhappy indeed.

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