Saturday May 14, 1977

Susan wakes me at 8.30 and I leave for Leeds at about 10 o'clock.  Say farewell to Uncle Bert who is injecting some foul smelling liquid into the stub where his poor leg once reclined. Nauseating, eh?

Leave Leeds at 1055 and get into Manchester by 12.15. I walk through Manchester wearing a blue and white striped T-shirt. This may seem to be a normal thing to do, and indeed had I adorned my body with the said T-shirt in Cambridge, Milford Haven and possibly Carnarvon it would have been. Not Manchester, however. The local dominant football team are quite partial to a more crimson hue. Yes, Manchester Utd, of course. I sought refuge in a telephone box to avoid a particularly vicious looking mob. As I crouched 'neath the volumes of yellow pages my thoughts were with Queen Marie Antoinette and how she must have felt as the filthy Parisians dragged her through the streets in a rickety tumbril.

Got to Stockport and met Dave G. He informs me that my troublesome shirt is in the colours of Stockport County FC and gives me a pat on the back and takes me to the Unity for a drink. Six or seven drinks to be exact. Meet a couple of his friends - Steve (who I met last time), Garry and Billy. A sobering stroll round Stockport.  The climax of the afternoon is a coffee in a Wimpy Bar.

The Hollywood Hotel

Back to the Hollywood and meet Mr & Mrs Glynn. See the Muppets on TV. Also see Glenn.

To the Unity with with Dave G, Glenn, Garry, Steve and Billy plus two unnamed females who are lovely little movers, and one of them (Holly) fancies me, I think. Go by taxi to the Poco Club where 'The Brothers' are appearing. (The do "Sing Me" which they had in the charts). We didn't even see them anyway and got pissed in the adjoining disco. Glenn disappeared at 1am after an ice throwing contest with Dave and I as we did our usual formation dance routine. Really a hysterical evening. Dave and I back to the Hollywood at 2.30am by taxi and sleep head to toe (or arse to tit) in Dave's large bed.

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Monday March 7, 1977

Went to Rawdon to see revolting Hough about my teeth, but he had no knowledge of my appointment. Stupid eohippus. Not wishing to waste my journey I went to see Marita, who was sat in front of the TV. She startled me by saying she was going to dancing lessons tonight and rocked me to my very foundations even more by saying MM is virtually a qualified dancing teacher. Latin American and all that!  Blimey, he's kept that quiet.

A typical day in French Revolution Paris.

Returned to Guiseley by 6 and passed a thoroughly ordinary evening at home. Well, not quite as ordinary as I would have liked it to be. Mum, Dad and Lynn became somewhat aggravated - heated - call it what you will, when I announced I was intending visiting Mr 'Tammy Wynette' Osborne, manager of the Yorkshire Bank, to obtain a loan. I was immediately declared to be on the path to ruination. Mum seemed to be beside herself with passion invoking the name of Uncle ______ as an example of how I might end up, They were successful in talking me out of seeking a bank loan for the time being, but for a while the scene was somewhat reminiscent of a typical day in French Revolution Paris.

Saw Clint Eastwood in 'A Few Dollars More' and had a hot bath at bewitching hour. Read until 1.30.



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