Tuesday April 29, 1975

Feeling grotty and fear that a cold is creeping upon me. All day my throat's been sore, and a funny cracking sound affects my ears everytime I swallow. My sinuses aren't too good either. Detest feeling like this and hope and pray that a sudden recovery will soon be achieved.

Discover at the YP that I'm down for working on Friday night. Not that it matters and I do suppose it's a blessing in disguise really. What with the holiday pay-up date looming on the horizon, and the prospect of another months Barclaycard I'll need every single penny I can lay my hands on.

This afternoon I suddenly remembered that Jon Lesser (David's room-mate at Worcester)wanted some photostats of the Selby Coalfield development, and so I flew round the office with panic burning in my eyes in the attempt to find his address. Eventually I succeeded and delegated the job of doing the photostats to Eileen. Jon is a good bloke really. David never ceases to torment him, but he only does it in fun of course. It strikes me that David always needs a 'Jon Lesser' wherever he is. When in Guiseley his 'Jon Lesser' is John Rhodes, and he does anything to plague and chaff him. Also, the fact that Jon is _______is also a never ending source of amusement for David, who collects millions of ___jokes when he is on holiday, just so that he can lay in bed at night, when back in Worcester, and hurl them at his tortured room-mate. However, David Lawson will always be my dearest friend and until the end of my days his sense of humour and unparalleled wit will be of endless joy to me.

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Friday April 25, 1975

It's now about 2pm on April 26. Please forgive the entry for yesterday. To get back to the beginning of Friday: Awoke at 8.30 and went to breakfast for the first time. Devoured a few mediocre baked beans and some revolting bacon before idling back to Dave's room - intollerable heat conditions. The weather has made a dramatic change. David has persuaded me to use his British Rail student pass, which can get me a ticket home for half price. We rush through Worcester to Woolworths where I get a photo taken, then crawl to Shrub Hill Station in a nasty traffic jam, glueing my photo over that of David's on the way there. Get my ticket without any hitch and the train leaves immediately.

Home to Leeds at 3pm after a tiring journey. Pine Tops is achieved at about 4pm.

All the family well - it's nice to see them again. I don't often say it, but I do love them all.

To the Hare and the Commercial tonight. Beautiful evening and we stand in the Commercial car park. Sue and Peter are out with us and Peter joins the party to Wikis. Nice lad he is, and he and Sue seem inseperable. Except for tonight at Wikis that is. He rarely leaves her alone though.

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Thursday April 24, 1975

Yes, it's still April 26. What can I possibly say other than that David and Pete Allen were on teaching practice and they deposited me in Birmingham for the day. (Well, 11.30 until 4pm). The ruddy weather was too unbearable for words. After tramping around the place, for the first time ever, I collapsed in the cathedral park and devoured several sandwiches. Went with Dave to HIS pub from 7pm till 11pm. He works therein Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays. Propped up the bar all night, and fell into bed exhausted at 11.30. John Lesser was entertaining and creating chaos all night, but I survived. Oh God! I'm too pissed to write any more. Yes, pissed, and I don't care who knows it. Ta Ta all.

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Wednesday April 23, 1975

St George's Day. It's actually still about 2.50am on the morning of April 26 so I can't deny it. However, casting my mind back to this St George's Day does create certain problems. I could quite easily say that I've forgotten what exactly occurred on this day, but in saying so I'd be wrong because I know for a fact that in the evening of this day that David, Gordon (a college pal of David's)and I went to the Camp, where he took me in Dec. for the nice sandwiches, but the bread strike prevented the participation in such a delightful grapple. (OK, you don't understand any of this, but neither do I. After all, it's nearly 3 o'clock in the morning).

As I was saying, the three of us went to the Camp after messing around at college all day, and indulged in one or two drinks and admired the guinea fowl, which looked really succulent.

Honestly, this is an unearthly hour, and I do have two days entries to fill in and so I'll be turning over the page now. Bye Bye. (Now you know just what state I'm in when coming home from Wikis.)

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Tuesday April 22, 1975

I'd be lying my soddin' head off if I was to say I was actually writing this on April 22, 1975. In fact, if you must know, it's about 2.30am on the morning of April 26. So once again, I beg forgiveness for this disgusting betrayal of journalistic rules.

Well, after safely arriving in Worcester the events of this day were truly magnificent in the extreme - in fact, never before have I enjoyed myself like I did this night. (Forgive the English, but it's 2.40 and I've just staggered in from Wikis).

At 10.30pm on April 22, David, Serena (a beauty from college), Carol (another dame from college), Lynn (another dame from college) and yours truly went to Sacha's Disco in Worcester. After supping gallons of vodka (it was a double for the price of one) we staggered back to college, taking two hours to do so, when ordinary, sober folks do the same walk in 25 minutes.

I cannot express what joyous feelings I have about this evening, though I know they will be forever imprinted on my mind. Michael Rhodes.

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Monday April 21, 1975

Rainy, nasty day. The Queen's birthday. Uncle John says it would be advantageous to visit Windsor at this time because something is always happening.

I'm about to leave, with Dave, for Worcester. I do not intend taking the diary with me, because I'll have other things to do, and I don't like letting people in on the secret that I'm a day-to-day diarist. However, whilst I'm down yonder I will make the odd note or two so that I can come home and fill in the details, and indeed you'll not be able to tell I've been neglecting this truly historic record.

So, I'm on my way now. All packed and ready. Pity about the weather, but what do you expect in Britain in April? What do you expect of the weather in Britain at any time? Precisely.

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Sunday April 20, 1975

3rd after Easter. Quiet day really. Do nothing other than watch the TV until some unearthly hour. Saw about six films in all. Idleness, pure unadulterated idleness.

John went out for his Sunday night ale supping session and so too did Mum and Dad. Sue and Peter were babysitting, which left me, Lynn and Dave in one another's company all night. Looking forward with rellish to tomorrow's excursion to Worcester. Dave is collecting me at about noon.

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Sunday April 13, 1975

2nd after Easter. Sit in bed, after waking up, with Wheeler-Bennett's 'George VI'. Good book really, and the more you read it, the more you realise that he was a very ordinary sort of chap.

I'm toying with the idea of going down to Worcester on April 21 with David. He goes back that day and so it would be perfectly easy for me to get a lift. His teaching practice starts on April 28, so he'll be busy throughout the days and that would mean me making my own entertainment until the evenings. It will be better than idling about at home all week doing absolutely nothing.

Dreading tonight. David and me are going to the Emmotts to meet Stephen Holmes, whom we haven't seen in 18 months. He wants some prints from stills and photographs in Mr Lawson's possession. He collects me at 8.15 and off we go. The Emmotts is a lousy, horrible place really. I can't understand why we ever patronised the place. Saw slides from the day trip to Otley in May/June 1973, and the photos of June brought it all flooding back. I've ordered quite a pile.

Home at about 10. The car nearly didn't make it, and David seemed quite cheerful considering the horrible racket it was making. See a Vincent Price film. Bed at 11.30.

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Thursday December 19, 1974

A more congenial day. Left the office with Sarah at 12 and we did a bit of shopping in town before going our separate ways. Funny girl is our Sarah. A perfect Angel but temperamental beyond human understanding.

I got myself a Monty Python LP, the one I heard in Worcester, and bought Dad's Xmas present - a Perry Como LP. Really should have stayed in Leeds to buy all my presents but couldn't be bothered at all. 

Nipped onto a bus and was home in time to see the final part of 'The Forsyte Saga'. I was quite emotional when Soames passed away at the end. Sat choked in a heap besides the lit Christmas tree.

David called for me at about 8.10 after queueing for a tank full of petrol before the 10p price increase at midnight. To the Stone Trough for one drink. MM, Marita and Denny were awaiting our arrival. Moved on to the school (Benton Park) at 8.30 where the lovely Christine Braithwaite joined us. What a bloody scorcher she is - and a good deal more mature than when I last saw her. Denny goes off with Martin Vere-Bujnowski all night and she barely said a full sentence to me._______.A good deal of kissing went on underneath the mistletoe. Kicked out at 11.30 and moved on to Denny's - that is David and me -where we laughed over supper until 1.30. Home in the car.

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Tuesday December 3, 1974

Another good day. To Stratford-upon-Avon with Barbara, Serena, Mike Jenns, John Kirk, and Dave in the Lawson-mobile of course. The girls were horribly drunk and ploughed into a bus queue of old ladies outside a nice Shakespearian inn. Three old women died and seven were later reported 'serious but stable' in a Stratford mortuary.

A fantastic laugh it all was. Dave and I purchased a couple of pheasants and we carried them with pride through the streets. Had a few drinks before being kicked out at 2.30. Messed about near the river and took several photos.

How happy I have been this year. My entries for Dec 1973 are a painful experience. Moping for June Bottomley was a pathetic saga which dragged on for months. I was upset and depressed but subjecting you to the boring, heart-rending details was a mistake never to be repeated.

Home at 10.30 after travelling for three hours. Barbara is a darling, though she doesn't know that I know that she's a darling. Such a darling.

At home Mum starts nagging about the patchouli oil, and goes on and on...Oh for the solitude of Worcester.

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Monday December 2, 1974

A lovely drunken day. At lunchtime Dave suggests that we, and some others, should go to a pub which is about 2 miles along the River Severn, walking there of course. Dave, Mike Jenns, John Lessor, John Kirk and I go. To our horror we discover on our arrival the bakers' are preventing our consumption of sandwiches, due to the silly strike they're having. We struggle to survive on bags of crisps and Mars bars. Play darts until after 3, and drinks lots of home brewed cider. Coming back is a good deal more difficult. The mud seems twice as deep, and so does the river. Dave starts a friendly fight with John Kirk and it degenerates into a filthy mud bath and we all arrive back at college in a filthy, muddy state. I bring back a massive branch of mistletoe, which causes soemthing of a sensation in the female channels of the college.

After tea Wizard reads my fortune in some cards he frequently dabbles with. I agree with Barbara when she says that Wizard pretends he knows more about the cards than he says, when in fact he knows no more than we do! Oh God! I don't want to write any more. I never liked doing this anyway. I always wanted to be a gynaecologist.

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Sunday December 1, 1974

Advent Sunday. Henry I, died 1135. The first of December today: a lovely month indeed.

Had a good night again but was awakened at the unearthly hour of 11.0am by Mike Jenns and Steve, or 'The Wizard' as he is known. We make the best of it, and sit about with a coffee until lunch.

After lunch, Dave, Mike Jenns, the Wizard, and his girlfriend Sabia, Barbara (swoon), Noelle, and a little horror called Caroline all go in D's car to the Malvern Hills, a beautious spot indeed. We walk a few miles to the highest peak where a memorial is dedicated commemorating the 60th anniversary of the reign on Queen Victoria. Coming down a hill in the direction of St Ann's Well, I fall flat on my back staining my jeans bright green. The water from the Malvern Hills is favoured by the Queen, who drinks no other water. We call in at a good pub where I sample the lager - I drink little else these days. Back at college, Dave, Barbara and I go into the art room where I paint a caricature of her. She and Dave were reduced to hysterics at the sight of it and lay helplessly on the floor for about half an hour. She says she will treasure it forever as a reminder of my visit. Do little else tonight. Sleeping on Dave's floor. John Lessor is good fun_____.

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Saturday November 30, 1974

St Andrew's Day. Dave and I go into breakfast with his room-mate John Lessor, and a few others. Have to pay 52p, and Dave complained about it being ridiculous.

A gorgeous little friend of David's by the name of Barbara makes herself known to me. A lovely Newcastle accent and a wavy mop of black hair give her the sexiest qualities. Extremely flat chested, but I think she's the nicest girl I've seen in months. After this breakfast, the two of us, that is Dave and I, go to Worcester, where I buy some patchouli oil, a delightful aromatic. We then drive round the little villages, stopping at a perfect pub for a few drinks, and then collect mistletoe, sprouting in profusion from all manner of woodland shrubbery. We end up in Gloucester where we potter around the shops until darkness draws us back to college for tea.
A party in Worcester at about 8. Dave and I go with Noelle, a colleague of his. Have a tremendous laugh and pinch a voluminous pair of knickers from the washing line at the pub. We later hang them in a prominent place in the Lawson boudoir. Back to college with Barbara and some others where we consume coffee until beddy byes time.

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Friday November 29, 1974

Mum wakes me at 9. I feel upset about the incident on the phone last night. Only one person's ever slammed the receiver down on me before and that was Judith B, not one of the nicest characters to have crossed my path in these nineteen and a half years on earth. Never would I have imagined Mum doing the same thing. She had a good cry too, which chokes me. It isn't many years since I would have been sobbing along with her. People who cry have that effect one me. She says little about my visit, and doesn't pursue the matter when I say that I am going. The bloody car refuses to move, and so Mum has to walk to work. Standing at the kitchen window watching the lovely little lady - the greatest woman on earth -disappear down the lane, in the cold frost, in order to earn a living so that I can live in the best of comfort. 'Greater Love Hath No Woman...'
Get the suitcase out of the loft and prepare for this trip - almost reluctantly after all this pressure. Get a bus to Leeds where I bump into Kathleen on Wellington Street. Get a ticket and leave for Birmingham. A really hilarious bird shares my compartment with her kids - common as Hell but so funny. The train breaks down near Sheffield and we seem to be hanging around for absolutely ages. Change trains at Brum and arrive at (Worcester) college just before 8. Dave is surprised to see me and didn't expect me for a hour and a half. Bump into a few good guys and settle down straight away. Go to a party on the campus where free drink is to be had. Back to a room at about 12 and sleep comfortably.

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Thursday November 28, 1974

A dreadful day. Don't work until 5, but am glad to go after listening to poor Mum's attempts to disuade me from going to Worcester. David sent his student pass in the morning post and family pressure made me realise it would be an evil, criminal act to impersonate a biology student for purposes of robbing British Railways of a couple of quid. Nevertheless, I see the reason behind my not using the pass. Possible jail sentences and large fines being the main factors.

At about 9 this evening at work I ring home and speak to Mum. She says she and Dad don't want me to go______. The money also came under fire. Who do they think I am? Aristotle Onassis? I think that £15 cash and a bottomless supply in the Barclaycard department is adequate for four days in the heart of the West Midlands suburbia. Home at 12.30 and go straight to bed.

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Wednesday November 27, 1974

Nice day at work. Mess around all afternoon with Sarah. I do a spot of research after being reminded that Sarah is descended from Oliver Cromwell. She says that her mother's family stems from the marriage of General Henry Ireton and Bridget Cromwell, who were married in the midst of the Civil War. Sarah is quite thrilled when I inform her that the Duchess of Kent is a great-great-great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter of the same Mr Cromwell. You may well remember that not long ago I was forever tarnishing the Royal House of Kent in a derogatory and cruel way. The poor duchess of that noble line doesn't deserve any of the nasty insinuations I have levelled against her over these months. Never again will I be so childish to say such things.

See in the morning papers that the Earl of Lichfield is not to remain the gay bachelor we all imagined he would. It seems that Lady Leonora Grosvenor, daughter of the Duke of Westminster, is the lucky, and extremely wealthy bride-to-be. Sarah was most down-hearted that he was out of the running. She fancied herself as Lady Lichfield. Not that she's ever met his Lordship...

The buses home are hours late again. Don't get in until 6.30. Still no word from Worcester. I'd hate to have to pay the full train fare when it would only rush me £3 with Dave's pass. Well, that's life I suppose. On the whole it's been a terrible day. Hail, rain, bloody wind, and more bloody wind being the prominent factors involved.

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Saturday November 23, 1974

Working till 12. Home quite ravenous for food of any description. Haw stew, but without the dumplings though, which is a let-down. Dave Lawson rings at about 6 and says he'll go to the Hare at the usual time so that we can make preparations for next weeks booze-up in Worcester. He comes down with his National Union of Students cheap railway pass, and we discuss tactics about how we can fiddle it, enabling me to travel cheaply. Satisfactory result to plan is achieved. Some blithering idiot suggests we should go to the dance at Yeadon Town Hall. Like fools we all go! After paying 50p each we all decide that the oldest person on the dance floor is a backward 11-year-old, and a certain party, namely Keith, storms out after the man on the door refuses to give him his money back. David and I keep telling everyone 'we told you so' with ridiculous grins spread over our faces, and eventually we all leave. Lynn, Dave, David L and I and Chris and Carol go to the Albert in the High Street where we attempt to drown our sorrows. Running out of the pub we bump into dear Christine & Philip, who is limping with a broken foot. She yells something about the Christmas dance, and David and I disappear into the fog.

In the chaos we lose the others, and in our search for them we go back to the Hare & Hounds for the last drink - where David gets a nice ash tray. Then on to Harry Ramsden's and then home where the four of us sit pulling a film to pieces.

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