Saturday August 11, 1979

_. Before retiring last night Ally and I listened to Rachmaninov's 2nd piano concerto [Maura Lympany] sprawled on the dining room carpet. We decided to go out for luncheon today - and WE DID!  At 12:30 we went into Leeds and ate steak at Jacomelli's on Boar Lane. Rare rump steak and red wine. Wonderful conversation. Ally insisted on paying for our lunch and  the £7.44 will be forever engraved upon my heart. Afterwards we walked across Leeds hand in hand gazing into shops and making the usual noises associated with 'window shopping'.

Out tonight with Ally, Dave L, and Maria. A weird combination, but we had a fun evening. Dave is always an adventurous drinker, and he took us to the Travellers Rest at Crimple. We only ever venture in that direction with David. Maria told us all the sordid details of child-bearing. _____.

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Wednesday March 14, 1979

_. Dribbling, gushing paint continues to flow in glorious technicolour at Queenswood Heights. I should have it tied up by Friday, thank God.

Have I mentioned that the trip with Christine to Brands Hatch set for Saturday has been cancelled? CB phoned and said Mrs Braithwaite is ill and she doesn't want to leave her alone at the weekend. I can't say I am too depressed about this. The money would have drained away hideously and I am in no position to spend, spend, spend. It is surely a record now since Christine and I had a session. Three whole months have passed.

Jacq is going down to see Trixie at the weekend with Linda. It is Peter Sate's 22nd birthday on Friday. Jacq and I are meeting tomorrow at Jacomelli's restaurant - to collect a batch of photos I took in Oct/Nov. Mum seems to think that Jacq and I will get back together, but she obviously doesn't know her eldest son, does she?

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Sunday March 4, 1979

1st Sunday in Lent.

_. Went with Sarah and Delia to see Bill North at Headingley. It was my first ascent of a block of high rise flats and I was pleasantly surprised.

Bill is something of a cross between Larry Grayson and Liberace, and very suspect. We drank gin and tonic. I agreed to paint his hallway, which has ten doors leading from it, but no overall price was settled upon. He gave me £10 to be going along with though. Delia kept bursting into howls of laughter and blaming it on me, and it was all so childlike and good fun.  I am eternally grateful to that small, valiant lady, with the bunch of gladioli and campaigning spirit, who has undoubtedly saved me from prostitution & degradation.

Hilda and Tony came here again. Wine was consumed on the usual vast scale and we discussed the so-called family tree. I am sure that Tony knows more on this subject than he lets on , and when I next go to Pudsey I must look at the Wilson family Bible. I gave him the dates of the burials of John & Rella Wilson who died in Dec 1920 and March 1926 respectively. Lynn and David came and saw Auntie H for the first time in three years.

Friday February 23, 1979

_. Warm & sunshine. A spring-like day with the birds clucking overhead and the daffs forcing themselves up from 'neath the leaden earth. I think our esteemed prime minister has done a deal with the lads at the World Meteorological Conference to arrange this, and if the weathermen at the BBC suddenly have a wage rise of 60 per cent we'll all know what's happened.

At lunchtime I met Sarah and Delia at Len's Bar. Delia was moaning about the head of the Leeds museums, who refuses to let her decorate the museum at Kirkstall with garlands of flowers, inside and out. She's already been refused permission to drape garlands over the famous Leeds lions at the Town Hall and is mortally wounded by the general apathy and dreary attitude of those employed in local government. It would appear that Harewood House is Delia's only retreat, and venue for her floral displays, but she hated her last encounter with the Countess [of Harewood] .

Delia discussed Jo T_____, the previous flower chairman,  saying she is undoubtedly 'perverted' and between sips of bitter lemon, adds that the woman is 'slightly lesbian'. Sarah spluttered lager everywhere. Or was it cider?

Delia says I ought to be a scriptwriter. __________.

Back to the YP at 2:30 totally cheesed off with my financial situation. Looking around the office I don't care what I do in future just as long as I can escape the clutches of the Yorkshire Post.  I do so miss 'The Times' - since that paper collapsed I long for the feel of that delicate, exquisite paper between my fingers. Alas, no more.

Sat tonight over whisky with Mum & Dad. We discussed the question of wages and what different workers deserve. Are ambulance men really necessary?  If Field Marshals were to withdraw labour would anybody notice? This dragged on for hours.

Saw Peter Sellers in a late night movie which was hilarious. The man is undoubtedly a genius. Bed at 2am.

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Wednesday January 3, 1979

Ruth Rhodes (nee Upton)

Still snow. We have just been having a laugh talking about our ancestry. Dad's paternal grandfather must have been a frightening character. He had long, flowing white hair, and always wore a black apron. The only thing Dad remembers about John Henry Rhodes's house is the piano with brass candle~holders, and the large, framed portrait of Gladstone on the wall. (Dad says jokingly: "Or was it Disraeli?") The picture frightened him almost as much as grandad did. John Rhodes (1866-1948) was a strong nonconformist lay preacher, and he sang solo in the chapel on Sundays. He was partially blinded when making  his own fireworks when aged 13 or 14. His wife, Christiana Ross, came from a moderately wealthy background, related to the Ross mill owners in Bramley. She died when my father was five or six years old (in June, 1939), and his only memory of her is when she was 'lying in state' in the front parlour after her demise. What did these aloof, God~
fearing folk make of the family of the woman who married their son, Albert Rhodes (1901-73) ? I shudder to think. The Uptons were a colourful bunch of people. My paternal grandmother was Ruth Ellen Upton, the illegitimate daughter of Polly Upton (1882-1932). Polly was from Sussex and spent her formative years on Epsom racecourse. It is said that the father of her illegitimate daughter was a member of the racing fraternity. Polly was only 18 years old when Ruth was born on September 3, 1900. A few years later Polly married Charles Edwin Henty, a jockey, and had a further thirteen consumptive children. In about 1913/14 Charles Henty came to Yorkshire to the stables of the wealthy Gunter family at Wetherby. At the outbreak of the Great War he went off to Europe to fight for King & country, and Polly took her growing brood off to Leeds to find work. The story goes that the first time my grandmother ever saw a tram she worked on it - Ruth would have been about fourteen. She later worked in a woollen mill in Bramley where she met Albert Rhodes. They married at Bramley register office in March, 1922. John Rhodes, the singing Methodist, boycotted the wedding because Ruth was a Roman Catholic. He didn't speak to his son for years, and comfortably off himself, he almost allowed his family to starve during the depression. My Uncle Harry was born in Oct 1922.

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Wednesday December 20, 1978

Feel better, but still snuffling. I phoned Jacq at 12 and told her I couldn't meet her today. She wished me a happy Christmas, and I did likewise to her. I received a Christmas card from her this morning ~ "To Michael, Love, Jacq".

At lunchtime Mum said it was quite unfair that she couldn't have a "works Christmas party" because as a mere humble housewife she misses out on the lavish affairs provided for office workers. Enough said. We grabbed a couple of bottles of wine, and summoned Susan from upstairs, and sat around the dining table to have a celebratory glass.

Sarah phoned at 1pm. They now want to go to Bibi's instead of Da Mario's (on the Headrow, Leeds) and that they want to call in at the Regent at Chapel Allerton. You know what this means? They are going to bugger off with boyfriends leaving me in the lurch. Ah well, who cares?

Sarah doesn't want to linger in town (Leeds). She is frightened that the IRA is going to put an incendiary device under her chair, or pizza, &c. OK, the terrorists have threatened to target northern cities but I don't see the point in worrying unduly about it. Fretting isn't going to halt the IRA.

-=-

Monday November 13, 1978

Bright, windy day. Sarah and I decided we should do something exciting and so at 12 we went to Da Mario's Pizzeria and noshed our heads off. Yes, dining out, lunching out ~ call it what you will ~ on a bloody Monday! It only cost us £1.70 each which is no great loss. Afterwards we both had our footwear repaired at the cobbler next to the restaurant, and we stood around, both bare foot, until about 1. My boots were re~vamped for £3.25. Bloody Hell, I'm going through money like Howard Hughes. (Did he actually spend money, or was he just a recluse? Oh, go on then, I'll say Paul Getty, just to be on the safe side). Money is still something of a novelty to me, and so you'll have to forgive me frittering it away so eagerly. Let's hope the passion will die before very long.

Speaking of passion ~ and who isn't these days? ~ Christine phoned this afternoon and we exchanged weekend reminiscences. Her coach, which left Victoria at about 5:30, went north via Sheffield, and they didn't get into Leeds until well after 11. How weird of our beloved National Coach service.

Tonight we endured three hours of the Royal Variety Performance which was transmitted live. It was in the presence of Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother and at the finale she seemed to be touched by the loyalty and emotion of the generally nauseating cast. It worried me slightly. It looked like some sort of semi-official 'send off'. Does Lord Delfont think that perhaps Her Majesty won't be in a fit state to attend 1979's offering?

To bed at 12:31am

-=-

Friday October 20, 1978

Steve Sharp's leaving party this evening.

This afternoon Sarah, Carol J and I went to Parker's and then to Len's for a few lunchtime drinkies to get me in the right frame of mind for the festivities. The girls are refusing to go to Steve's orgy because the Eagle pub on North Street is something of a rough dive, they say. What does it matter?

At 6 o'clock John Mac took Alan Macgregor and I to the Eagle. Timothy Taylor's bitter was drained in vast quantities from the outset. I sat with Steve, Geoff Winter, Sue Tirbutt, Jill Armstrong, Fred (Manby) &c. I collected Jacq at 7:30 after fighting my way through the vast crowds in Leeds queueing to see Mr Revolta in 'Grease'. I am shocked that millions of apparently educated people should sink to such depths of incredible madness.

By 10:30 we were all quite pissed. At one point Steve used the back of my tie to write down a lengthy drinks order. Oh My God! It all looked very 'punk' anyway.

Jacq and I went with John MacM and a new lady YP reporter to Steve's place at Alwoodley where we drank ourselves stupid. I was violently sick on the manicured front lawn, and after a few gins I passed into a tranquil state of unconsciousness from which I didn't emerge until morn. In the meantime Jacq was mauled by Campbell Spray, and she sustained injuries to her left ankle on the dance floor.

-=-

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.

-=-

Friday September 15, 1978

To the Odeon at Leeds with Jacq at 8pm to see Mel Brook's 'High Anxiety'. Very funny. Jacq didn't laugh quite as loudly as I did. In places I found myself roaring with laughter, but quite alone. Rather like giggling in Westminster Abbey.

Home at 11 after having a quick drink at the Wayfinder, which is full of potential Ripper victims and greasy haired males resembling the Kray Twins and other leaders of organised crime. I must make a note to avoid this pub in future.

Felt buggered. Collapsed in a chair and slept for half an hour on my arrival home.

-=-

Tuesday September 12, 1978

Sunny day. Busy at the YP. Howled with laughter this morning when Michael Brown, the Religious affairs correspondent, phoned me from Huddersfield to tell me he thinks the new Pope (John Paul I) looks very much like Peter Sellers. A preposterous remark, or so I thought, but on inspecting the photo files I see the resemblance is remarkable.

I can see that before very long I'm going to become quite sick of our grinning, circus-like performer of a pontiff.

Other news: The Queen Mother is to become the next Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports. She'll become the first woman to hold the office, an ancient one, whch dates back to the time of King Harold. Previous Lord Wardens include Churchill and Sir Robert Menzies. Just what the job entails escapes me. I'm sure it will be nothing strenuous.

A photo of Lynn and Dave appeared in the EP. I'm going to miss Lynn, you know. Just look at the photo and that brilliant, glowing smile.

I met Jacq at lunchtime and we ate like horses in the park instead of our usual damp luncheon at the Ostlers. She says she may be 'buggering off' from Leeds. _________________.

Dave G and I met later near the Polytechnic and went for a drink at the Fenton, where the National Front and homosexual intellectuals gather to discuss tactics. He's having a riot in Leeds and last night ended up in the Original Oak with a sun~tanned lady just back from a holiday in Ibiza.

-=-

Saturday September 2, 1978

New Moon 17:09

Sun rises 06:14 sun sets 19:46

Found myself in a sleeping bag at Farthingstone, Old Pool Bank. In a bedroom with Dave and Pete. Trevor is in another chamber deep in slumber. A nice guy is Trevor.

Audrey gave us 'Puffa Puffa Rice' for breakfast (Ugh) and drove us home at 11, or thereabouts. Jacq, Lynn, Sue and the girls look well. They say they spent the night at the Elma drinking 'Jelly Beans' (I believe a conglomeration of vodka, Pernod, blackcurrant, and I think lime juice).

I spent £15 last night and most of us seem to have spent the same. Oh God.

Jacq and Lynn went shopping to Otley just as Mum and Dad returned from shopping with JPH. He's thinner these days, taller and more of a handful. He sat in Mum's coffee sloshing it everywhere and blew up the kettle. He'll be two in a few weeks time.

Tonight Jacq and I went to Leeds to see 'Revenge of the Pink Panther' at Odeon 2. Peter Sellers in undoubtedly the funniest man upon this earth in 1978. Jacq laughed until I thought it was becoming quite dangerous. Tears of laughter cascaded down my face.

-=-

Friday September 1, 1978

David B's 'stag night' in Leeds. Jacq came here with me after work and this evening she went with Lynn and her cronies (including Sue of course) to Shipley and the Elma.

Dave and Trevor (his workmate) came here at 8 and we went with Peter N to the Station Hotel, supposedly for a bus. George Waite's car pulled up and out he came with John, Maria and a long~haired Alec McHarrie. ________________. Heavily pregnant Jayne Waite drove us to Jacomelli's in Leeds where things got under way. On to Cinderella Rockerfella's. All quite blurred. I recall attempting to persuade a young lady to call off her wedding set for next Saturday, and to marry me instead. She wasn't particularly attractive either. In fact she was squat and greasy.

Returned to Pool~in~Wharfedale at 2am where Dave, Pete, Trevor and I did hand stands on Pool Bank, and later at Dave's house we drank Audrey's supply of Creme de Menthe, Bailey's Irish Cream, coffee liqueur, and much more. No idea what time we went to bed.

-=-

Saturday August 26, 1978

Sun rises 06:03 Sun sets 20:01

Up at 10. Sarah made me scrambled eggs on toast. I felt slightly worse for wear. Sarah and Delia fussed over me. They went to the Ilkley Antiques Fair at 11 and dropped me at home. A quick change of clothes and I went back to Leeds to meet Jacq and Trixie at the Dragonara. First I went to the Y.W.C.A to pay my respects to Hayden, who begged me to find him a surgeon who might perform a head transplant on him.

Went with Jacq and Trixie to Whitelocks. We sat from 12:30 until 3 in the pleasant atmosphere of one of Leeds's finest and most ancient taverns. Afterwards we went to Trixie's room at the hotel for even more drink, and finally, at about 5:30 we left for Guiseley.

John and Maria had been round in the afternoon but we just missed seeing them. After dinner with the family we took Lynn & Dave to the Drop where we celebrated the coming wedding, minus 2 weeks. Pernod dribbled everywhere. Lynn was quite overcome by it all and had to go sit outside.

Back to Pine Tops afterwards.

-=-

Friday August 25, 1978

Trixie came to stay at the Dragonara for the duration of the Bank holiday. This evening Jacq and I went to meet her at the hotel and we took her to Len's Bar where Sue Tirbutt was having a party. Trixie was in fighting form and looked fit and well while knocking back the usual pints of bitter. I introduced her to (Alan) Macgregor, who served in the Royal Navy with Derek Sate. Hayden came with Jacq. _________________. Jacq, Trixie, Hayden, Sarah, Carol J and I went to the Nouveau club at 11pm from Len's and stayed until about 2:30.

Trixie left for the Dragonara at about 1am but we stuck it out until the bitter end. Sarah was horribly pissed. At the end of the evening Jacq disappeared into the darkness with Hayden and Carol drove Sarah and I to West End Lane, Horsforth. We staggered and fell around in her kitchen and I made some ridiculous adjustments to her father's shopping list on the table. At about 3 I retired to the pink suite at Ivory Towers.


-=-

Saturday August 19, 1978

Sun rises 05:52

Sun sets 20:16

Hanging wallpaper at Lawn Road all day. The place now resembles Longleat.

Jacq and I met this evening and we tanked down the road to the Wren (?)for a couple of drinks. At about 7:30 we went over to the Tower Cinema to see Lord Olivier and Katherine Ross in 'The Betsy'. I enjoyed it. Jacq made her usual comment ~ 'crap'. It just wasn't her sort of film. I left her at the Y.W.C.A at 11 and got a bus home.

-=-

Friday June 16, 1978

Jacq had a party at the YWCA in honour of a party of Frogs who were passing through Leeds. I went straight round to her place from the YP and she washed my hair and gave me a clean shirt in her little room. Her room-mate is enormous ~ like a pregnant Indian elephant, or whichever type of elephant is the largest.

A couple of Greeks, a Scot and a Welshman joined us at the George tavern opposite the Infirmary where we made merry until closing time. The pub landlady resembles Hylda Baker.

Back at the YWCA I met Coun Mrs May Sexton, the principal or governor, or whatever they call 'em. She told me she would like to see capital punishment restored. So do I. It was a good, humorous party with loud pulsating music and sandwiches. We danced all night. At 4am I helped clear the devastation and at dawn I hitch-hiked home, completing the journey in a couple of hours.

-=-

Friday May 19, 1978

Met Jacq in the Central at lunchtime and discussed tonight's thrilling adventure. Having no idea where to go, we finally decide on Cinderella's. I don't think I've been since Dec 1976 when we went on the Christmas "do" there from the YP.

I got a bus at about 9pm to Leeds and met Jacq at the Jubilee, opposite the Town Hall, before moving to the Merrion Centre. She contributed £5 for her share of the evening's alcohol. In Cinderella's for 10:30. For most of the night the DJ played the 'Saturday Night Fever' LP which I (far more than poor Jacq) thoroughly enjoy. We didn't get smashed either, although we did blow £10. The dance floor was the coolest place to be and we danced like half-crazed Māori tribesmen until we were virtually thrown out at 2:15am.

The night was warm and light and after taking Jacq back to the hostel I set off along Burley Road in the direction of home. Again, I walked as far as Rawdon Crematorium before anyone decided I needed a lift.

On New Road Side I stood outside Christine's loudly whispering her name. Her bedroom light shone invitingly out across the sweet smelling Horsforth meadows, and my heart raced at the thought of her négligé clad form coming out to greet me.

It must have been about 5:0am when I eventually got to bed.

-=-

Friday April 28, 1978

Met Jacq at the Ostlers at lunchtime and had a couple of pints of shandy. _____. Once again I am just about destitute. A £5 note graces my pocket with no signs of any more booty getting therein before the next pay day. However, Jacq does have £5 of mine towards my 'Shirt Fund'. We'll see how it goes, anyway.

I worked until 5, got the train home, and then set out again for Leeds at 6:30 to meet Jacq! So stupid leaving Leeds in the first place.

We met at 7:30 and went to the Odeon to see 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind' which is an exquisite film. Sarah and John Mac saw it on Wednesday and Sarah was so impressed she slept through the whole showing. I'd say it's one of the best films I've ever seen. Jacq was weeping. The film proved just too much for her.

Close Encounters ....

At 11 we were thrust out into the bustling streets of Leeds to discover no public transport of any kind. Hundreds of thousands of bingo playing OAPs were openly throwing themselves beneath the wheels of passing vehicles in the chaos and horror that followed.

I took Jacq back to the YWCA and set out on the long road home on foot. On Wellington Street I teamed up with an old boy from Yeadon and we walked along discussing trade unions, Northern Ireland and the French Revolution. In fact we walked for ten miles and only managed to get a lift when we were at Rawdon Crematorium. We were picked up by three lads whom I recognised from various pubs. They were pissed up. The driver couldn't find his gears, and when I commented on this he told me it was a stolen car and he hadn't quite got the hang of it yet. I believed him too. Typical isn't it, that I should go out on a Saturday night with my best girl to the cinema and end up being the brains behind the greatest armed robbery without even trying?

I went to bed with a glass of lager and sat rubbing hand cream all over my feet. Oh, it was bliss.

-=-

Monday April 17, 1978

The Leeds buses are on strike for some obscure reason and the traffic into the city was like hell today. I was of course travelling with Jim Rawnsley (who sprained his ankle on Saturday) and Jennie ______. Later this morning I received a phone call from Jim at the Civic Hall asking me to accompany him back to Guiseley this evening in the absence of public transport. Jim Rawnsley is a very good gentleman.

I collected a photo of young John with his grandmother from Betty (the YP photographic wizard who has framed an enlargement for me). It was taken on Dec 27 last year. I am very pleased with it.

I worked until 5:30 and then walked to the Civic Hall to meet Jim. He was in a meeting banning a march planned by the National Front in Leeds on Saturday, and didn't get away until 6:20 and so I sat on the wall near his car reading the newspapers. He was very apologetic.

I fear I have smashed one of my rear teeth on something I ate at Yeadon Fair on Saturday.

A quiet evening at home. Saw an film about Lee Harvey Oswald.

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