Thursday October 28, 1982

 Susie left hospital today at 11am and took a taxi to Pine Tops for lunch. I phoned the sweet thing at 2. She said they will come to visit us on Saturday afternoon and bring Christopher. She sounded just fine.

I attempted to watch Top of the Pops but the vacuum cleaner won the battle. Ally has been positively maniacal this week. She makes Adolf Hitler look like Worzel Gummidge. Never mind. It can't always be champagne and roses, can it?

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Tuesday September 25, 1979

_. John's 23rd birthday. Sat by the record player all day listening to my favourite tunes. Ally, Sue and Peter dropped in for lunch and I made the bacon sandwiches. God, it was good to see a few faces. It's no wonder that so many housewives turn to the bottle. Solitary confinement in the home must surely drive them over the top. Housework must only take a couple of hours. What do they do after that? Poor buggers. The nauseating DJs on Radio One don't help either.

To the YP at 5 and spent the evening with Gilberto - our man from Chile. No news. Everything quite dead. Home by taxi at 12. The driver had little to say. I thought we might become airborne as he had his foot flat down on the accelerator.

Ate like a horse and took up Adolf Hitler.

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Wednesday September 19, 1979

_. Warm day. Sat in the garden with Mama and Adolf Hitler.

To the YP at 5. Just Gilberto and I. ______. Made my exit dead on 12 and made my way home with a most knowledgeable taxi driver. He went on and on about Cambodia and the dreadful regime of Pol Pot. He explained the history of the Khmer Rouge Republic and life of Prince Norodom Sihanouk.
Yawn.

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Monday September 17, 1979

_.The YP was hell. Just Carol and I in all day. ______. I'm reading John Toland's Adolf Hitler again. John and Maria bought it for me ages ago but I only read a hundred pages. So tonight I battled on with it. September is my intellectual month.

At tea time I found Maria and the babies with mother. JPH has a temperature and is glowing.

-=-

Monday September 25, 1978

John's 22nd birthday. In Stranraer ~ no doubt knee deep in heather, haggis and Moira Anderson. I couldn't think of a more ghastly fate. He received his birthday parcel because Dad ran into Molly and she told him they'd been to Ayr Races and had called to see John and Maria at Lochans at the weekend and his presents were displayed in the caravan. __________.

I met Jacq on Wellington Street at lunchtime and she handed over Sue's shoes and trousers, borrowed on various occasions after 'orgious' activities, &c.

We are going to Lawn Road for tea on Wednesday. Mum and Dad spent the evening with Lynn & Dave tonight, while Sue, Pete and I sat bunched in front of the TV here. I buried myself in Toland's 'Adolf Hitler'. I'm reading about his escapades in the 1920s at the moment.

I poked around in the kitchen undecided about just what to devour and finally gulped down a jar of glacé cherries. To bed at 11.

Note: I knew that Mary Malcolm, the ancient broadcaster, was a granddaughter of Lillie Langtry, but had no idea that Mary's grandfather was H.S.H. Prince Louis of Battenberg, 1st Marquess of Milford Haven.

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Wednesday September 20, 1978

One day when a National Front dictatorship rules over these islands led by a short, enfeebled geezer with a Charlie Chaplin moustache, I only hope I am a tax exile in Zurich, or somewhere. I simply don't like the idea. I do suppose it's up to people like me to put a stop to this growth of fascism before it gets out of hand because looking at the Germany of the 1920s the masses didn't see the danger in Mr Hitler. Pete Lazenby is now a leading activist in the Anti-Nazi League, and he is busy recruiting all the time, but I fear that his legions are made up of blood~red communists, who'd like nothing better than to see the likes of the Hon Mrs Angus Ogilvy, and her more important relatives, hanging by their necks from the turrets of Tower Bridge. It's always from one extreme to the other, don't you think?

Retired to bed with Adolf Hitler and these gloomy thoughts at 10:30.

-=-

Tuesday September 19, 1978

Didn't phone Jacq today. Jilted John (Mac) asked if Jacq and I would like to accompany him to see the Dortmund Opera in Leeds next week. I was slightly taken aback. ____________. But at £6 a ticket!

Saw Alex Haley's 'Roots' tonight and retired to bed with John Toland's 'Adolf Hitler' which I left at Trixie's in April or May.

-=-

Monday April 10, 1978

SNOW! Yes, bad weather maybe, but it didn't wipe the smile off my face, and do you want to know for why? Well, it's very simple. _____________. However, this pearly, sexually arousing grin of mine died on my poor lips when, at the YP, I managed to phone the Yorkshire Bank. They, the filthy bankers, have refused to give me a loan, and no reason is to be given. No doubt it's Barclaycard who have tipped them off about my eccentric monthly payment history. It seems I am to be forever branded a debtor. Indeed, the very mention of my name in financial circles immediately wipes billions of shares off the Stock Exchange. I'm not going to let it worry me, anyway.



The reception I had at home was nothing short of violent. Mummy gave me the usual lecture. At one time she likened me to ______. Tempers were frayed beyond all comfort. Mummy took on the character of several ogres all rolled into one. Adolf Hitler and Mussolini together would have quaked and dissolved in a mess of urine on the floor had they had to endure Mama's tongue lashing. Oh, it was foul. And all because I have been refused a bank loan!

I have, in retrospect, decided that Mum's Wilson pride must have taken a severe kicking by this latest embarrassment. The Rhodes family care little about whether bank managers bestow money on them or not, but to upset a Wilson so is like smashing an eighteen ton weight on a sensitive area of a male's anatomy. Have I made myself quite clear?

The Princess Margaret nonsense has quietened down slightly. The whole brouhaha has been monstrous.

-=-

Sunday April 9, 1978

2nd after Easter.

More people (came) to view the house. Susan and I giggled like schoolgirls at the people tramping round poor Pine Tops as though it was Chatsworth.

Ernest called in to sup ale with us, and Jacq arrived at 12 noon from the YWCA, wearing a black woolly jumper inherited from her late step-father, Peter Holroyd, Esq.

We all took alcohol together and watched an ancient film on the BBC featuring Marilyn Monroe: "The Seven Year Itch". Lynn and David returned from their adventures at Lawn Road and we dined (inc Jacq) on roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. Poor Jacq ate well. I fear she starves herself at that place (YWCA). Susan and Peter were unavoidably detained at Granny (Florence) Nason's 80th birthday party.



Jacq and I really get on like a house on fire. Read a bit of Toland's 'Adolf Hitler'.

Saw Hylda Baker in a ghastly film at 8 and at 10 I escorted Jacq to her bus (in soaking, rainy conditions). Dear Mama packed her off with a pork chop to eat in the near future (not raw on the bus home I hope).

Jacq and I howled with laughter when Mum's old, see-through, yellow plastic umbrella collapsed.

-=-

Wednesday April 5, 1978

Lynn gave me 'Worth' aftershave (for my birthday) and Sue and Pete a £5 note. From John and Maria I had a 1300 page paper back 'Adolf Hitler' by John Toland. Little JPH could only just carry it through the door - bless him.



Yes, I'm 23 today. Cards from Sarah, Eileen and dear Jacq, who presented me with one plus the Doobie Brothers LP at the Central this lunchtime.

We met at 1pm and knocked back Pernod and a few lagers. Peter Lazenby was eyeing Jacq up and down and back at the office he told me I was doomed to marriage. Surely, I'm much too young to enter into that Holy estate? Too bloody young by about 40 years? However, I suppose it will happen one day whether I like it or not.

This evening I played the Doobie Brothers LP very loudly and generally annoyed everyone at home.John, Maria and JPH came followed by Edith and Ernest shortly afterwards. Much alcohol was supped and JPH did his party pieces. A heated debate on Princess Margaret's £50,000 per annum took place and I was out-voted by the misguided majority.



Mum said HRH is nothing short of being a 'prostitute' and Ern hilariously said that had Princess Margaret been in the army she'd have been shot for deserting her post. If this is so then the army is slipping because the princess is a colonel-in-chief several times over. Poor Margaret.

-=-

Thursday December 23, 1976

What a bloody laugh. Lynne beetles her way up the lane at 7.30 and we take Sue, Pete N, & Mr & Mrs Nason to the Craiglands [hotel] in Ilkley before dropping off Martyn's 'things' at his residence. Miss Mather and I then motored to Neville's Wine Bar [she prefers Neville's to the Vineyard for some ridiculous reason] and after putting away a bottle of wine I suggest going to Stuart's flat for my jeans and pullover. An innocent enough suggestion you may think - and it certainly was meant to be one, but Oh dear, just see what occurred. 

We found Stu and Andrew attempting to clean up in readiness for Mr & Mrs Walker's visit for the festive season, but I gave them leave to crack open a bottle of Scotsmac. One or two bottles later Stuart, far from being a sober manager of W.H. Smith and Sons Ltd, happened accidentally to refer to Lynne as 'Carole' - a name not unfamiliar to Miss Mather's ear-holes. With this slight she leapt from her chair with the words: 'Come on, Michael. We're going.' With a flourish she swept from the room like Lady Bracknell. I, of course, had no intention of leaving and remained firm and defiant throughout. Minutes later she's sat in her squat little car beneath the balcony of W.H. Smith's, and I proceeded to give a Mussolini-like lecture from above. Then she was gone into the darkness, not unlike [Stanley] Baldwin's departure from Fort Belvedere in 1936. 

A much warmer atmosphere was circulating in the upper chambers of that bastion of book selling. In fact the mood of we three lads was not unreminiscent of the aura circulating in the private suite of Adolf Hitler on the night he made himself chancellor of the Third Reich. [That's enough dictators, I think]. Minutes later, Stuart, Andrew and I were at the Stoney Lea where we made merry until 2am. Andrew Walker Esq pinched someones cigarette lighter, which wasn't very nice, but things like this do happen when one is as pissed as he was. The theft of a lighter is a much nicer crime than say raping three nuns in the rear of taxi - or is it? [By the time you, dear reader, sit reading this rape may well have been legalised].

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Monday August 16, 1976

The drought continues. Trees are dying now, and I have noticed especially that the grass verges are no longer green. The route now from Leeds to Guiseley is reminiscent of the journey from Palma Airport to your Majorcan holiday resort. The drains are beginning to smell like Spanish drains too. The BBC hasn't seen anything like it since records were first kept in 1972.

At 9 o'clock tonight Lynne comes up to see me accompanied by Jean and another friend, Julie. The three of them take me either to the White Hart or Half Moon at Pool-in-Wharfedale. I've forgottren which one. Julie, a thick, half-witted young lady was in the same form at St Mary's [RC school] with Carole and Maria. She tells me that Carole, after a dispute with the headmaster, rushed home and devoured a bottle of asprin and had to have her stomach pumped. I've never heard this one before. She also related to me the tale of how Mr & Mrs Phillips attempted to gas themselves because of financial difficulties. Sad, but humourous. After two or three drinks in the forgotten pub we returned to Pine Tops for coffee. Dad is startled to see me with three ladies. Lynne is in hysterics about something, but is too convulsed to relate the cause to me. Must be my influence.

Sue & Pete come back from the Hare & Hounds where they'd had a meal. Pete stays in John's old bed for the night because Mr & Mrs Nason are away. Read 'Eva & Adolf' until after 1am.

-==-

Wednesday August 11, 1976

I don't believe I've really mentioned Carole's [recent] letter. It came on Saturday and is very sad. I replied this morning. I'm telling you this because it is now 6.30pm and I regret having given in. I haven't made contact properly since May and now I wish I could have kept it as it was.

Denise rings at 6.30 to say that Carole's been inventing stories about her. The story C told me on Friday [on the phone] about Denise going to London with _______is a load of shit, and D rang C today to demand an apology. Why is Carole circulating this propaganda? Denise puts it all down to jealousy. Probably so. Mum told me months ago that Carole has 'jealous eyes'.

Peter and Chris come at 7.15 and we go to Thornton-le-Dale. [By the way, I rang Lynne at T-le-Dale this afternoon. It was the first time she has answered the phone in her new house.]

Stop at the Four Alls for a quick drink on the way and arrive at about 8.45. The new house is much smaller thay Ty-Gwyn and Mrs Mather looks whacked. Lynne, Chris and I escape to the pub a soon as it's decently possible to do so, leaving Pete sawing chunks of wood off the bottom of several doors. After a couple of drinks we devour fish and chips. Back to the house for coffee and leave for home at about 11. Bed at 1.30am with Hitler and Eva [Braun]. A bit heavy going at bedtime, don't you think? Hitler tossed and turned all night. Pleasant dreams to you all, anyway.

-==-

Sunday July 6, 1975

6th after Trinity. A beautiful day. The hottest one yet this year. Went down to the Commercial with Chris and John. Andy and Linda were stood in the car park with Carol, and so too was Dave B. It was really too hot to do anything. Even drinking was a strain. The so-called Bradford Jet-Set were cluttering up the place - as usual - and the snobs who gather in that place every Sunday afternoon are disgusting. I see no pleasure in standing about watching Jason park his Lancia in a sticky corner. No indeed.

Mum and Dad came down for a quick one at 1.30, and at 2 we came back to Pine Tops and had greasy Harry Ramsden's fish and chips on the lawn. Chris came up so that Dad could sign his passport photographs.

Lynn, Dave, Dad, Sue, Pete and John played 'badminton' on the lawn, and I put 'badminton' in inverted commas because what I saw looked like a re-enactment of the Battle of Waterloo, or a cross between the Normandy landings and the riots at this year's European Cup Match! It was too hot for me. I kept falling into a darkened lounge and looking in on a Bette Davis film.

John went round to 'George's' this evening, and I stayed home with Mum. Dad was working at 10pm. Saw a 1955 film on BBC2 about the last few days of Hitler's life. A German film it was, and a lot better than Frank Finlay's portrayal.

-==-

Wednesday April 30, 1975

Feel much better today but am not too happy yet about my throat. My nose is clear, but I fear the contamination will creep down to my chest. It always does.

Good day really - Kathleen was off again - she always is lately, and I must admit that the atmosphere is a lot better without her dashing around finding unnecessary jobs for everyone to do. These women will do absolutely anything to get out of taking life at a leisurely pace.

Home at 5.20 to find Mama preparing the lounge for the coming onslaught of dust-sheets and paint cans. After tea I help Dad splash a bit of emulsion around and manage to watch a 'St Trinian's' film and a good documentary about the death of Hitler in between. Hitler died 30 years ago this week.

Whilst I was making busy in the lounge John was busily drinking with Chris and Co in several of Guiseley's ale houses. I rarely miss Wednesdays supping sessions, but today, mainly for financial reasons, I decided it would be wise to do so.

(Christine rang at work to say that Maura isn't joining me for a drink at lunchtime tomorrow. She gave no excuse, and I suppose Christine's been having words with her. I'll say no more about that.)

Before leaping into the bath I talk with Dad about me buying his car! Yes, actually buying a motor vehicle. He says I'll be the first on the list when the times comes for him to sell, and Mum agrees that it would be a good idea. I'm pulling myself together at last. I know I've always let life slip by without even realising - so unlike John - but the time is now ripe for meto begin a new trend.

-=-

Tuesday March 4, 1975

Another busy day. The bloody builders are making even more noise, and we could all be deaf, daft, or blind by the end of the week - if we're lucky that is. We'll all go mad unless it quietens down. Leave at 4.30 again and I didn't start until 9 o'clock. Kathleen realises we are all working flat out.

On my arrival home Mum is slumped in an armchair. A chill or something. One of her colleages at work went down with something the other day and so I suppose the poor old thing has caught it too.

See in The Times that the Prince of Wales said in a speech yesterday that he almost married Lady Jane Wellesley last year due to pressure from the Press. He was actually brain washed into believing reports that he was having a romance with Lady Jane. Poor beggar. We must pester the Royal Family until they don't know whether they're coming or going.

I'm going to break off now to writea letter to you know who in London. Then I'm going to watch 'The Great Dictator' starring Charlie Chaplin, who was knighted this morning. Normally I hate Chaplin films, but this is a satire on the Nazi regime under Hitler - so it should be interesting. I'll let you know what went on in the next paragraph. Bye Bye.

Hello again. The film was exceptionally good actually, and never again will I say that Chaplin is a usless article. Thoroughly enjoyed the film, and Paulette Goddard can make a pass at me anytime she wants to. Whether she's dead or not is another matter. Bed at 11.30 after entertaining Naomi.

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