Friday May 26, 1978

To the YP with Jim and a rucksack full of belongings. A hot, bright, summers day.

At 12 I went to the bus station and grabbed the back seat of the 309 to London. Jacq arrived minutes later and at 12:30 we left for the bustling metropolis swigging from cans of warm lager.

At 5:30 we were at Trixie's ~ & the three of us went straight to the BBC at the Alexandra Palace for a few drinks. Everyone completely pissed.

Party back at Trixie's flat from 8pm. Here all is lost and forgotten in a mist of champagne, elderberry wine, and various assortments of ale.

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Thursday May 25, 1978

That nauseating, wriggling grub David Steel has announced today that the pact with the government will be ended at the close of the current parliamentary session in July in readiness for a clean sweep towards a general election. He must think we've all fallen off a Christmas tree or something, because I can tell you that the voting papers will still be warm in the ballot boxes when the swindling Liberals team up with Mr Callagas and his gruesome set.

Christine phoned today.

Tonight we expected Jim and Margaret Nason but they never materialised. Edith and Ernest are of course house hunting in far-off Devon. So, it was an unusually quiet night, and a hot one.

I'll fill in a bit of the blank page by mentioning Dad's moustache. He first grew one in 1973, but shaved it off in that historic year. His 1978 effort is even better, and I award him top marks for its high class cultivation, colouring, size, lustre, body and exquisite shape. Indeed, the facial adornment just sends the years rolling from him.

Goodnight.

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Wednesday May 24, 1978

Princess Margaret and the 1st Earl of Snowdon were divorced ~ on this the 159th birthday of Queen Victoria. I don't think she'd have been amused at all. Mind you, it is 1978, and when everybody else in the kingdom are tearing up their marriage certificates I suppose it's only right that one or two members of the Royal Family should do likewise. Moving with the times, and all that. It's about the only excuse I can give.

The only other violent eruption I can envisage this year in the Royal House is Prince Michael of Kent's marital intentions with Marie-Christine Troubridge.

Politics: a recent opinion poll suggests Margaret Hilda Thatcher might not become prime minister at the next general election. It is infuriating to see the present enfeebled prime minister growing to look more like Sir Winston Churchill and all the more how one expects a Conservative leader to look while at the same time the 'true blue' leader is a peroxide blonde housewife smothered in Max Factor ~ going through the change ~ &c. It really is intolerable. The political analysts are now saying we won't be going to the polls until next Spring and the thought of a jubilant James Callaghan and Denis Healey rolling, frolicking, and skipping midst the crocuses at Westminster just doesn't bear thinking about. Another Labour government would take us to 1984, George Orwell and all that.

Home news: Just watched tv this evening. Mama is back to normal I think. Her moods can put a tremendous dampener on things.

Lynn came home with a new hairstyle ~ a perm. She's such a pretty girl ~ one of the finest maidens in the parish.

Edith and Ernest are going to Devon tomorrow to view a house near Kenneth's that's for sale. Mum says it's a bad idea that they go south. She hasn't told them of course. I agree when she says that moving at that age can do more harm than good. Ernest has many friends up here and to old people that can be the difference between an active, youthful mind, and a geriatric cabbage.

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Tuesday May 23, 1978

Phoned Christine this afternoon and laughed about the usual things.

The so-called bus strike ended. It is estimated that it will cost ratepayers £1,000,000. I got an infernal omnibus to Guiseley for the first time in many weeks.

This evening I phoned Dave G to say the bill from Global Travel is finally in my hands. The holiday this year will cost us £176 (approx) each, and to think that in 1971 I went to Interlaken, Switzerland for a mere £40.

Dave was fine. He's looking forward with almost an insane passion to the San Antonio jaunt ~ in about seven weeks time.

Mother is still in one of her 'let's all moan at Michael' moods which doesn't do much for my patience or temper. It is equally infuriating to see Lawrence Rhodes, PC 1656, sitting through the barrage of abusive, slanderous drivel as though he is stone deaf.

I think you now have a clear picture that life isn't all roses and pea wine here at Pine Tops. However, I suppose things could be much, much worse. __________.

Whilst Her Majesty the Queen is in Bonn, over in London Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon are about to be divorced. The petition is due to be heard tomorrow and the £16 'quickie' will set a precedent in the Royal House of Windsor that will not please many people. If I were a bishop I can tell you that I'd be bombarding The Times with lengthy epistles on the sanctity of family life.

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Monday May 22, 1978

Full Moon 17:14

Overcast sort of day. I phoned Christine after lunch to say I stood outside her house at some ridiculous hour on Saturday morning in a feeble attempt to attract her attention. We laughed a good deal. Her car is having its MOT this week and so we are not having our weekly orgy. She was out with Carl or Karl on Saturday which confirms Jacq's report of seeing a man in her car on the night in question.

I also rang Michelle at Smith's and she broke the news to me that the bill for the holiday is in the post. More money to pay out.

Mum had her usual weekly 'go' at me over dinner. It was an attack on my financial, moral and romantic condition. She usually sticks to just one subject for each argument but today's was a multi combined assault resembling a scene from the Russian Revolution. She made several nasty cracks that I won't forget in a hurry. I am sure that at times she is unstable.

Passed the evening in front of the tv. News: a couple of Belgian taxidermists have been shot in Zaire and everyone seems to be in uproar about it. I fail to be shocked, horrified, surprised or remotely interested about what goes on in these 'Up the Jungle' Banana republics. Who cares whether Mr Mobutu's government is stable or not? Perhaps Mrs Mobutu, or maybe even his elderly mother, but certainly nobody else.

Her Majesty the Queen is in West Germany on her second state visit to that land. I was reading somewhere that in a recent opinion poll 85 per cent of voters said that would-be kaiser Prince Louis Ferdinand of Prussia would be the best man to be president of the republic ~ and he wasn't even on the list of candidates suggested in the poll!

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Sunday May 21, 1978

Trinity Sunday

At 12 we all went to the White Swan at Yeadon ~ except Lynn & Dave, who couldn't escape the clutches of Lawn Rd ~ Mother wasn't in a particularly joyous mood, & Margaret Nason__________. The object of this lunchtime mêlée? Well, Susan was playing cricket for Wendy Wools on this, the Swan cricket ground, that has seen the likes of Sir Godfrey Bloodclot and Mavis Trueman at the crease. Or is it Christine Trueman? Whatever.

It was a bright day, yet cold. Sue did marvellously well and bowled one opponent , then caught another. By 4pm she was exhausted and more or less gave in when it was her lot to bat. She only managed to get two runs. We were all proud of the dear thing, anyway.

Back home for about 5. Jacq and I listened to the radio until 7. Mum and Dad went to Maureen and Laurence Craven's silver wedding party.

Jacq and I sat in the lounge (99 per cent decorated) ~ watched an Edward G. Robinson film. Jacq had no idea that Janet Leigh had once been the wife of Tony Curtis.

At 10 to Harry Ramsden's and then had a quick drink at the White Cross before Jacq left for Leeds at 10:45.

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Saturday May 20, 1978

Sun rises 5:02 Sun sets 20:53

Out of bed at 11am to finish painting the lounge fireplace, yes the fireplace. It took most of the day and my sole companion on this adventure was Alan Freeman on Radio 1.

The highlight of the afternoon was when the legs of the television, with my help, gave way and capsized. Most people in the land were watching the England v. Scotland football match on their sets, but mine was upside down, covered in emulsion paint. It was an experience that neither the telly or I will forget lightly.

Met Jacq in Guiseley at 8 and had a drink in the Yorkshire Rose. She was clad in red and black which was attractive. From the above mentioned weird tavern we made our way to the Crown at Yeadon where we tarried until 11.

Philip Knowles and Co, plus Naomi, Rick Hartley and mob were merry-making, but no parties for afterwards seem to have been planned. I was horrified when Jacq mentioned seeing Naomi at Tony's party. I wasn't aware that Miss Downing had been to the party. Oh, I was so pissed. Phil Hewitt's sister who works behind the bar, is a nice girl.

At 11 we returned to Pine Tops. The two of discussed going abroad to seek our fortunes next year. Do you get the feeling that you've heard all this somewhere before? Yes, but now is the time, Michael!


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