Friday March 10, 1978

Felt fatigued after the excesses of Oakwood Hall. It was a bright, sunny day with the birds chuntering away happily in the trees.

At lunchtime Eileen and I went to the library to get a couple of books by P.G. Wodehouse and Dumas's 'The Man in the Iron Mask'. If it takes me as long to read as 'The Count of Monte Cristo' I'll be here until July. However, Michael, with fortitude it will be done.

Christine phoned this afternoon to say her car stinks like an Indian restaurant and that I've splattered the interior with curry and raw onions. Oh God. We are going to Willie's 21st on Thursday. That should be something of a brawl.

I have received a letter from Carole. I am going to leave it pressed between these pages for you to look at. What do you think of it? I'm slightly confused by it, but no doubt in time the contents will sink in. I am not going to reply until the whole thing has been studied carefully.

Tonight I did absolutely nothing. In fact, I felt exhausted. 'The Man in the Iron Mask' was untouched. Saw a Susan Hayward film. It's interesting to note that all the cast of this 1962 film are now dead. Miss Hayward bit the dust in 1975, Peter Finch in 1976, Charles Chaplin in 1977, Margaret Rutherford in 1972, Richard Wattis in 1976 (?), and Enrico Caruso in 1927.

-=-

Wednesday December 31, 1975

New Year's Eve. Go to work in pouring rain and a blizzard at 12.30. Collect my pay and dash straight out for the 1 o'clock bus.

In Guiseley I buy Mum and Dad a bottle of whisky for the New Year and birthdays rolled into one, and get them a {birthday} card each from a newsagents shop. Home at 2 saturated to the very bone.

John is watching a Charles Chaplin film and I watch some of it with him.

Meanwhile: that night. To the Hare & Hounds with Carole and the mob. Stay until 12.30. At midnight it all seems like a terrific anti-climax and no one is happy or joyful at all. I give Mia, the landlady, a kiss. David takes Carole, CB, Chris and I to Maria's, where she's in bed with 'flu. Mrs Mac gives us a drink and we stay for an hour or so.

Back to Pine Tops where quite a crowd is gathered - in fact all the usuals other than Chris and CB are here. Douglas Snr and Douglas Jun from next door come, and so too do Mr & Mrs Blackwell. Ernest fell down the stairs and nearly killed himself, and the only other incident was when Lynn threw Andy and Linda out after an argument over the choice of records. I drank the traditional skin-full.

The girls retired at 4am and so did Mama and Papa who were absolutely marvellous as usual. Dave L went home, and Dave B, Pete, Doug and myself went on drinking until nearly 6am. I did masses of washing up and clearing round before collapsing on the settee at 7.30. {Dave B had the floor, Pete had 2 chairs}.

THE END

{I could go about the year ending and 1975 going forever, but I won't. Idleness and tiredness in general prevent me from discussing the finer points of Hogmany.

Do not miss the 1976 edition of Michael Rhodeses thrilling memoirs!!

This is MLR signing off until another year.

Good night and a Happy New Year to all.


God Bless.

-==-

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.

-==-

Tthursday January 2, 1975

Have a rotten nights sleep and get up feeling a bit bog-eyed at 20 to 8.
Busy day at the YP with the New Years Honours List. Charlie Chaplin, PG Wodehouse and Gary Sobers are new knights, and the revolting deaf MP Jack Ashley is a CH. Chaplin is 85, and Wodehouse is 93. Mr Wodehouse may be a genius of the pen, but his politics aren't really what they should be. He made certain hideous broadcasts from Berlin in 1941 which upset everyone a good deal. As for Sir Charlie Chaplin, I'm not a fan of his at all. I do smile occasionally at his silent movies, but that hardly makes him 'knight worthy'.

Mum is 40 today, but like Jack Benny she says she's not going to get any older than 39. She does right too. Dad is 41 today. We bought Mum a series of black underwear, and Dad another new shirt. John and I have tea alone whilst Mum and Dad discuss buying a new car with one of Daddy's PC friends. Lynn and Dave are in Scarborough for the day. Lynn may be in love for the first time. (I think it's the first time anyway, but I wouldn't know about that).

Sit looking at the bedraggled Christmas tree and make up my mind to remove it from the lounge tomorrow - a sad occasion indeed.

-==-