Showing posts with label royal variety performance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label royal variety performance. Show all posts

20131209

Monday November 13, 1978

Bright, windy day. Sarah and I decided we should do something exciting and so at 12 we went to Da Mario's Pizzeria and noshed our heads off. Yes, dining out, lunching out ~ call it what you will ~ on a bloody Monday! It only cost us £1.70 each which is no great loss. Afterwards we both had our footwear repaired at the cobbler next to the restaurant, and we stood around, both bare foot, until about 1. My boots were re~vamped for £3.25. Bloody Hell, I'm going through money like Howard Hughes. (Did he actually spend money, or was he just a recluse? Oh, go on then, I'll say Paul Getty, just to be on the safe side). Money is still something of a novelty to me, and so you'll have to forgive me frittering it away so eagerly. Let's hope the passion will die before very long.

Speaking of passion ~ and who isn't these days? ~ Christine phoned this afternoon and we exchanged weekend reminiscences. Her coach, which left Victoria at about 5:30, went north via Sheffield, and they didn't get into Leeds until well after 11. How weird of our beloved National Coach service.

Tonight we endured three hours of the Royal Variety Performance which was transmitted live. It was in the presence of Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother and at the finale she seemed to be touched by the loyalty and emotion of the generally nauseating cast. It worried me slightly. It looked like some sort of semi-official 'send off'. Does Lord Delfont think that perhaps Her Majesty won't be in a fit state to attend 1979's offering?

To bed at 12:31am

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20111119

Monday November 15, 1976


Not an unpleasant day at the YP but nothing of particular interest to say. The Sunday Mirror yesterday says that the Prince of Wales is going to marry Princess Marie-Astrid of Luxembourg, daughter of the Grand Duke. Oh yes? The Queen paid a state visit to Luxembourg last week. And I suppose the state visit of President Giscard d'Estaing in June was to fix up Prince Andrew with Mlle. Giscard? And how about the state visit to the USA in July? No doubt Julie Nixon Eisenhower and Prince Michael of Kent are secretly betrothed. The Queen Mother was in France last week. Does President De Gaulle have a bachelor brother?

Lynne rings at 5.35pm and I invite her to come up to Pine Tops after her Spanish lessons are over. Later, a historic occasion indeed. The Royal Variety Performance LIVE on the BBC for the first time. The Queen Mother was there - she must have found time to snatch herself away from the attentions of King Olav of Norway. It was a boring performance only made bearable by Mike Yarwood, fish and chips, and a couple of bottles of ale. Otherwise it was a flop. The poor Queen Mother looked older.

Bed at 11.30 with Frances Donaldson's 'Edward VIII'.

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20101126

Friday May 28, 1976



Sir Harold Wilson's (resignation) Honours List was published this morning. (James) Goldsmith is a knight; Lew Grade and that nice Sir Bernard Delfont (who always makes the Queen so welcome at the Royal Variety Performance each year) are life peers; and even Mike Yarwood got something. He's OBE if I'm not mistaken. Lots of MPs are creating over certain names on the list but I consider it petty and ignorant of them. It is a retiring premier's privilege to honour whomsoever he choses and to argue with his decision is nothing short of treachery. After all, the Queen herself approved the names before the honours were conferred. Who argued when Churchill ennobled his doctor, Charles Moran? Poor old Harold cannot do anything right - not when the Press is Tory controlled anyway. You wouldn't think I was a Tory voter, would you?

Meet Tony and Stuart in the Central at 1pm. Go over with Eileen, who is 19 today. Buy her a few dry Martinis, but she seems miserable and dull. Leave the lads at 2 and go back to the office.

Meanwhile, that night: Tony comes up at 8 o'clock just half an hour after Lynn and Dave go to the Lakes until Tuesday. Spend an hour in the Hare and at 9 we go up to the Emmotts where the two of us meet Carol J and Marilyn. I feel uneasy and the girls, especially Carol, are unusually silent. At 11.15 we shoot off in the direction of Leeds for a meal of some kind. End up at the 'Damn Yankee' until some unearthly hour. A costly and uninteresting evening.

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20100614

Sunday November 16, 1975

25th after Trinity. A cold, bleak day. I normally go to Maria's when Carole is in residence therein, but because of the dog I decide to scrap this tradition once and for all.

I woke up at 9.30. My throat feeling terrible. I gargle with salt and water and then inhale salt water up my nose - a painful experience. At 10 I go for a short walk around Greenfield Avenue in the drizzle which helps my head clear slightly. Back home I glance at the Sunday papers and drink tea.

This Franco business drags on and on. Spain is now wondering whether to unplug his kidney, brain and heart machines. He could go on for years in the present state and it's not doing the Spanish government much good.

Mum and Dad went off for the afternoon at 12, and John did his usual disappearing act in the direction of Maria's. Sue and I made lunch and Carole came round at 2.30 for hers. Sue and Lynn say they like her hair, and I think she is now coming round to liking it herself. Dave brings a pile of 'Paddington Bear' books round for Carole to look at. They're written for 10 year-olds, but Carole is just getting into them.
We sit watching television all afternoon with Sue & Peter and then move onto the radio at 6pm to listen to the top 20.

Mum and Dad come back at 7pm. I thought they'd be out all evening, but they want to watch the Royal Variety Performance. Carole and I want to watch it too, and so the two of us venture to her place in order that she can tell the Dowager Mrs Phillips that she's staying at Maria's another night. I do not like her father one bit. He's almost maniacal the way he carries on. He told his only daughter that her new hair style made her 'look like an inmate of Menston Hospital' and went on to say, over swigs of tea, that she'd lost her femininity. Most cruel of him, I thought, and we are glad to get away from her place. She was upset by the things Mr Phillips had said.

We had one drink in the Hare and then came home. Dave and Lynn had bought a supply of apricot wine in and all the family (other than John & Maria of course) sat down to watch the Royal Variety Performance. A bloody awful show it was too. The only good bits were the beginning and the end when we had a view of the Queen. She looked bored to death, but very attractive in an orange evening dress. Just how she puts up with it year after year I do not know. She really should award herself the Victoria Cross for sitting through that painful pantomime year in, year out.

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20091211

Sunday November 24, 1974

Last after Trinity. Albert Wilson born 1895. Sleep until nearly 1 o'clock. A rotten day. Mum and Dad aren't on the best of terms and they're arguing all the time over dinner. The bloody wind doesn't help with tempers either - nothing worse than wind for fraying the patience of decent human beings.

See the beginning of the Royal Variety Performance. The arrival of the Queen Mother was one of the most heart-rending spectacles I've seen in a long time. The regal bearing that HM commands should go down as one of the wonders of the world. Even Chris remarked how fantastic she was.

Chris and Carol collect John and I at 8.30 and we go to the Dyneley Arms collecting Denny on the way. It's the first time I've visited the place since its £30,000 facelift, and although the structural alterations are perfect, the atmosphere within is still non-existent. Denny looks nice - sexy. Move on to the Lawnswood Arms where Louise Harris works. Don't like the place at all, and don't see Louise either. Back to Arthington in pouring rain where we devour fish and chips in Denny's lounge. We're going to the Benton Xmas dance together on Dec 19.

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Sunday April 1, 1984

 4th Sunday in Lent Mothering Sunday New Moon Sunny, bright, &c. Smothering Sunday. All Fool's Day. Busy. Rob came and so too did th...