Thursday January 20, 1977

That American slug, Jimmy Carter, became 39th US president today. Poor Henry Kissinger is no longer secretary of state and that nice Mr Rockerfeller's gone too, not forgetting President Ford, who was a good guy. This peanut breeder (sic) doesn't look up to much. He seems incapable of making intelligent conversation and I'm sure he'd make a better lyricist than a politician. Hammerstein and Carter, yes that's better. Why do I say this you ask? Well, everything he says seems to rhyme in a sickening sort of way. Enough of him anyway.

Master John Rhodes

Went to the Register Office in Leeds today and got the birth certificate of Christiana Ross (my great-grandmother Rhodes). She was born at Bramley on December 18, 1865. 112 years ago. Gee Whiz, it's Alfred the Great here we come.

Lynne came at 7.30 and we watched TV for a couple of hours. Went down to see John & Maria. JPH is a victim of the dreaded GERMAN MEASLES! The poor child looked ghastly, and it quite upset us all. Maria especially was very pale. Home at 11.30 to tell Mama of her grandson's ailment. Panic stations, nearly.

-==-

Wednesday January 19, 1977

More sweet dreams until 11.30 this morning. Dad brought me a drink in bed along with the radio before disappearing down to John & Maria's with Molly Macdonald to see JPH who's got a slight chill - poor bairn.

Nora Rhodes

Give Miss Akroyd a ring and tell her to go ahead booking the Hotel Pacific for July 10-July 24. I'm going to miss Sue's 18th birthday party, but it can't be helped. I shall just have to give her an extra large birthday present. Denise tells me she's having her 21st birthday party on July 9. Great stuff, eh? Also ring Lynne to tell her of the holiday details. She says she's going to Tenerife with a Miss Robinson from Harrogate, which I think is a good thing. If we're still going out together in July I will eat my own knee-cap but I wish a good holiday all the same.After lunch I go down to the Register Office in Guiseley and obtain a copy of Mum's birth certificate (Pudsey, January 2, 1935). Don't manage to get my Grandad and Grandma Wilson's marriage certificate because I don't know the name of the church. I went to the 'Stable Door' shop at White Cross and bought another Victorian-style print for Mum and Dad (birthday present).

Ring Auntie Mabel. Discover he parents married at St Paul's (church) Stanningley. She also related to me several tales of her maternal grandparents, who are buried at Pudsey cemetery. I say I'll be over to rumage in the cemetery shortly. She agrees to join me in  my macabre search.

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Tuesday January 18, 1977

Sweet dreams until midday. The hour of 12 no less. I emerged from my bed in no placid frame of mind. I attempted to bite Mama's head off and swore and cursed as I devoured my lunch. People do tell me that I can change suddenly from being the perfect specimen of gentility to a snarling beast within seconds. A split personality do you think? My cousin ________is a schizophrenic so perhaps I am too. Is it hereditary? Yours worriedly, Mr Hyde. From my mental state to the physical side. I am much improved today, but not ready for the great responsibilities of the Yorkshire Post. Well, not until Thursday anyway. -=-

Cousin Sam, me and Papa ....

Michelle (the friendly travel agent) rang me this afternoon to say the Hotel Pacific was booked provisionally until 4.30. She is sweet. I ask her to hang on until tomorrow. I'm sure everyone will agree. I ring Chris and he says 'yes'. So does Peter M. Glenn rings and we go into raptures over 'Ibiza 77' chanting 'Up Pam' &c. Watch a play on the TV and discuss Papa's parentage with him before retiring to bed. He says his mother was born at a place called Lewis in Wiltshire. There are only two Lewises. One is in the Outer Hebrides and the other is spelt LEWES and is in Sussex - near Eastbourne. That must be the place, but first I'll write to Uncle Harry in Cumbria for confirmation.

Monday January 17, 1977

Did you realise that the author of this diary was - or is - an out and out coward? Just nod your head if this notion has crossed your mind at some stage or other in the past four years. Good.

At work today I was in a terrible state. At death's door. Runny nose, sore throat, wet eyes, sneezing bouts, the bloody lot, and on top of all this I wanted to ring Lynne to tell her that I do not want to go out with her anymore. Awful eh? I even took a couple of 10p pieces and nipped down to a public phone downstairs (at the YP) but when Lynne answered I just dried up and made polite conversation. At 12.30 Sarah gave me the dispensation to go home - the sweet thing - and by 2.30pm I was tucked up in my bed with something hot. Slept until 6.30 and then went down and ate a plate full of stew.

Hotel Pacific, San Antonio, Ibiza.

 I contacted Denise today. We cannot get in at the Hotel March (in San Antonio) with Club 18-30, but she's reserved seven places at the Hotel Pacific. Later tonight I rang Chris and Dave G, and then Glenn rang me. Chris mentions the Riviera but tomorrow I'll get him fully on our side. Tony rings to say he has a lousy cold. Lynne came at 8.30 and stayed until about 10. She can be very sweet and nice but I think _____.I have a fear about finishing with anyone after the 'Miss Phillips incident'. Don't I get myself into some messes? -==-

Sunday January 16, 1977

Peter & Martyn playing pool at the Hollywood.

2nd after Epiphany. Fried eggs and the lot at Glenn's place. By midday however we're in Dave's comfortable lounge swilling ale. I'm on the Pils. After closing at 3pm we move into the pool room and continue drinking. 

This is followed by a guided tour of the pub and lunch in the private suite of the Glynn family. Dave and Glenn pay me the £15 each for the holiday deposit and then we hurtle back over the M62 to snow-ridden Yorkshire. At one point Peter was driving at over 100mph and the automobile creaked, rattled and shook. Had fish and chips from a Chinese restaurant in Bradford - greasy but substantial. Then to the Commercial for a small beverage. Home by 10.30. Relieved that the holiday is more or less sorted out.

Glenn & Martyn

Saturday January 15, 1977

Weekend in Stockport. It's so good to see Dave G and Glenn again, and to meet Mr & Mrs Glynn at the Hollywood Hotel._____. -==-

Hollywood Hotel, Edgeley.

Lily Glynn (far right) with Hollywood barmaids...

David Glynn, Esq

Martyn, Chris & Peter with holiday brochures.

We all seem to get on great and the only hint of animosity is shown by Peter, who doesn't think much of Glenn. To Manchester tonight and Kloisters Discotheque where a glass of Southern Comfort is only 22p. Naturally, I drink this all night. Martyn is half dead and only Glenn and I seem to be pissed. At the end of the evening we had a three mile walk after the late night bus from Manchester dropped us off somewhere in the wilds of Greater Manchester. I enjoyed the stroll, but Dave and I flagged down a taxi. One picked us up about a mile from Edgeley (where Dave lives), and it cost us 50p each! Thieving swine. Christopher and I stayed at Glenn's residence and are serenaded to sleep by an amusing American porn LP.







 -==-

Friday January 14, 1977

Up at 6.30 this morning shoveling snow from the drive. Didn't get to the YP until 10. I worked through lunch to make up for it. Bloody awful day at the YP. Actually, I don't feel all that bright. Must be post-New Year Blues. The Earl of Avon died at 11.11am -spend much of the day sorting his files. His son, Lord Eden, inherits the title. Good Old Sir Antony. He became Prime Minister on the very day I was born - he succeeded Churchill who resigned on April 5 - Sir Antony was appointed Prime Minister on April 6, 1955.

Lynne finally went home at 3pm today following endless hours of toil and struggle with Dad who ended up towing her all over Guiseley. I argue with the family tonight about the way I'm treating Lynne. Dad thinks I'm making the same mistake I made with Carole. Mum dislikes me taking out 'other women' whilst associating with Lynne. Can she mean CB? Good God am I engaged? Do I owe my total allegience to Miss Mather? I think not.Tonight I got a bus to the Hare with Naomi. Meet Carole, Chris, Pete M, Miss Dibb and Graham [Airey]. We go up to Oakwood Hall at 11. Quite a good laugh really. Miss Phillips is a cheerful soul lately. Her new found freedom must actually be doing her some good. I danced with Naomi when I actually did dance, and don't have much to do with Carole at all. I bought her a drink in the pub. Home at 2am in yet more heavy snow. They marvel at my fete of snow shoveling, still visible after all these hours.