Tuesday August 16, 1977

Tony came over this evening while I was in the midst of cutting the lawns and he procured me for drinking purposes. I'm flat broke, but he says he has more than enough cash to buy us both a couple of pints of Guinness.

Elvis: dead at 42.

We went over to Baildon but it was very quiet compared with the Bacchanalian reception we received last Tuesday. Darryl Wills and a friend came in.

We returned refreshed to Pine Tops at about 10.15. Mum informed us that Elvis Presley is dead. I find it hard to believe. He was only 42. He's six days younger than Mother to be precise. No doubt a flood of hysteria will sweep the world as is the general trend on the demise of a Super Star of Mr Presley's rank. (Rudolph) Valentino and Miss Marilyn Monroe for example.

We had our usual Tuesday night 'Panorama' type session with Dad and tonight it was crime and punishment and the death penalty (again). We all became somewhat heated.

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Friday February 27, 1976

A night at the Hare & Hounds. Carole does her hair curly again - like it was last summer - and the sight of her peeping over the top of her lemonade glass, with ringlets and sparkling eyes, gives her a Shirley Temple quality which is very rare these days. _______. A depressed, hysterical old bag is now a happy, skipping, bubbling wench again. O the beauty that is innocence!

Maria and John came down and so too did Peter M, who is reassured that I still want to go on holiday. I say all is fine, except for the money, and he offers to lend me some. A good lad is Peter.

John almost got into a fight with a little swine who upset Maria. She'd never even laid eyes on him before and he went on and on about her being pregnant. John asked him to aplogise but he wouldn't, and so J stormed away leaving the little bugger staring at him, flexing his muscles.

I see Daryl Wills, the EP reporter, and sort something out about getting John & Maria's wedding on the front page.

Carole and I walk home and once again we're up until 4am playing at Romeo & Juliet.

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