Thursday April 19, 1979

_. To Leeds with Jim R bearing my red suitcase packed with nearly all my possessions. At lunchtime I bought a ticket and passed the afternoon hanging around in readiness. It was unfortunate really because the coach to Manchester didn't leave until 6pm.

I had a pleasant chat with Ursula before marching out of the office at 5:30. Slept all the way to Manchester on the boring M62 and then got a bus to Stockport arriving there at about 8pm. I managed to get lost. The statue to Queen Victoria was facing one way, and I walked in the opposite direction. Billy told me to follow the old Queen. Dave was out searching for me and so I sat at the bar in the Hollywood with a heap of tongue sandwiches and a pint of lager, chatting with Mrs Glynn. An old boy leaning on the bar was reminiscing about the British pulling out of Malta in WW2, which was really interesting. We then discussed the pros and cons of marrying for money, and we decided it was quite acceptable. I did say that the fortune would have to be considerable before I could contemplate such a move.

Dave G came in at 8:30 followed by Bill [Wright] & Garry [Barratt]. The lads seemed quiet and subdued. Neil arrived with two other Bournemouth trippers and we sat drinking ale until 11. _________.

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Saturday November 18, 1978

Sun rises 07:23 Sun sets 16:08

Pisses down all day. At 12:30 Dave G and I went to Garry's where I wrote a couple of birthday cards ~ one to Carole and one to Jill, whose 21st (birthday party) is at the Elmer on Monday. The lads thought I'd taken leave of my senses. Followed by a fruitless quest for postage stamps. Why don't post offices open on Saturday afternoons?

Had a few drinks at the Nelson and Little Jack Horner's and then headed back to the Hollywood where we were joined by Bill and Steve B. A pissed~up lunch was followed by an afternoon sitting in front of a dull tv. I couldn't survive for long in this environment. Lily Glynn says it's because I'm not a 'townie'.

Billy predicts I will be married within twelve months. I shuddered at this hideous prophecy.

Tonight we left the Hollywood by taxi and went to Rotter's Disco at 11. A pleasant night but I wasn't on top form. In fact I felt down right bloody miserable. Back to Garry's for banana wine until 4:30am.

-=-

Friday July 21, 1978

Susan is 19 years old today. At midnight we celebrated in the square in San Antonio with Sangria and three hours later we were compelled by Herr Global to board a plane to Manchester.

Snatched from paradise ~ from the topless, bronzed, strawberry~eating jet~setters to the grey thighed typists of Leeds.

By 8:00am we were at the Hollywood Hotel drinking milky tea with Mrs Glynn. By 10 I was nestling in my mother's bossom at Pine Tops. The shock of this upheaval is no good for me at all.

One minute you're basking in the sun and the next your on a number 33 bus clad in oil~skins and furs with your toes going blue at the ends.

Mum, Dad and Lynn have been safely preserved these past two weeks. No scandal or idle gossip is forthcoming other than the sudden departure of Edith and Ernest to Paignton. They departed in a large black van on Monday morning and never even said goodbye. Mum and Dad are upset and stunned by this.

Tonght I met Jacq at 8:30 and we went to the Drop. _________________. We came back at 10:30 and she stayed the night.

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Saturday June 24, 1978

Sun rises 04:44 Sun sets 21:22 St John, Baptist

Mum woke me at 6:30 and I got a train from Guiseley to town. My coach left for Manchester at 7:20am and I was with David in time for breakfast at about 10.

Mrs Glynn, or Auntie Lily, made me eggs and bacon and at opening time we had a few beers in the pool room. Grey skies above. I'm clad only in a thin shirt and my leather jacket.

At 12:30 to the Woodford Air Display.

Drizzle, frost, smog, &c. The Red Arrows were impressive and the Harrier Vertical take-off plane sent vibrations over our crate of Wembley Ale. Little else to take my mind from the perishing draught. Steve, Garry, & Dave loved the event though, as did about half a million other people for some obscure reason. However, five bottles of beer and a pile of corned beef and onion sandwiches helped to alleviate some of the misery.

Back to the Hollywood by 6. Slept in Dave's double bed until 9:30. At 11 we went to Rotter's disco for the night ~ me wearing the grey, narrow-legged trousers. I received some favourable attention. A couple of women followed me round all night. Back to the Hollywood at 1:30.

-=-

Saturday February 11, 1978

Sun rises 07:23 Sun sets 17:08

Went with Lynn and Dave to see Edith and Ernest this morning. Snow was thickly laid, and it was too bright for the eye-balls following last night's extravaganza.

Peter didn't come up until after 12 and so we were late leaving for Stockport. As usual we became hopelessly lost and had a guided tour of Manchester, Blackpool and Glasgow.

We got to the Hollywood at 2 and the girls and boys were introduced to Mrs Glynn. We all thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, and Dave B, being thoughtful towards the ladies, took us to a flea market where we rummaged amongst the antiques for a couple of hours. I didn't make any purchases, but I did my utmost to persuade Lynn and Sue to buy a fox fur stole complete with head, tail and beady eyes.

Back at the Hollywood for an evening meal Dave (B) was taken ill with a bad headache. Lynn says that 'bad heads' are hereditary in the Baker family. Dave's uncle died from one, and his mother is forever bothered by them. How bloody morbid!

My Rotters 'passport' snap.

However, we started in the bar, without Dave, at 8:30. Glenn and Garry came, and we left for the Emigration Inn at 9 after Dave's sudden recovery. From there we went to 'Rotters', where a bouncer refused me entry because I was clad in a leather jacket. This meant a taxi ride back to the Hollywood to pick up a suitable jacket, and I was back at the disco in ten minutes or so. An excellent evening. We consumed vast quantities of booze and danced like fools until 1:30. I became a club member and had my photo taken for a 'passport'.

Back to the Hollywood in taxis in freezing conditions at 2:00. Had cheese on toast and laughed and made merry as people are apt to do on these occasions. Lynn and Sue slept in Dave G's bed, Dave B, Dave G and I slept in the lounge. Horribly uncomfortable on the floor.

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Saturday December 10, 1977

Mum woke me at 7:30. I felt ghastly. Close to death in fact. I was in two minds about whether I should stuff my £2 bus ticket to Manchester and just go back to bed. I didn't. I have splashed curry sauce all over my new trousers. Stood in the bathroom looking at my piteous reflection. I nearly vomited. Oh My God, the Christmas season is upon us again!

Garry Barratt.

Got the 9:30 bus out of Leeds. An uneventful journey. I slept for part of the way. Met Dave at 12 and we began drinking on the spot. By 3pm I'd consumed about seven pints of lager. Dave and the boys bashed about playing billiards or pool or whatever they call it. I wasn't even a bit pissed. I realise how disgusting and horribly working class I sound. I may just as well be a coal miner or sheet metal worker if my social life is anything to go by.

After a meal prepared by the great Lily Glynn we went out to the Armoury in Stockport for 8:30. From here we went with Bill (Wright) and Garry (Barratt) to Rotter's disco ('First there were discos, now there's Rotters', is the slogan). We each had to put a £3 deposit down before the management would let us in the God damn place. I think the poor misguided souls took us for rogues! We did get the money back when we staggered out at 2:00am. We did have a good time. Why can't someone open such a place in Guiseley or immediate vicinity? They'd make a bomb. Oakwood Hall is the closest thing and that's light years away in comparison.

On the way back to Dave's it happened. Yes, I was sick. All my own doing.

-=-

Sunday May 15, 1977

Hereward the Wake

Rogation Sunday. Up at 6.30am with the biggest hangover history has ever seen. The combined hangovers of Hereward the Wake, Edward the Confessor, Napoleon, George Bernard Shaw and Mitzi Gaynor only equal half the one I experienced this morning. Water. All I wanted was water. I would have willingly swapped my best girl for a glass of chilled H2o. Dave obliged by rushing to the bathroom and bringing me a cup full. Passed into unconsciousness and slept until about 10.30. Discuss Glenn's disappearance but we decide not to visit his residence just in case he never made it home last night. Good God. Suppose he's fallen into the Manchester Ship Canal?

Mitzi Gaynor.

Dave accidentally locked his bedroom door with the key inside and we spent half an hour trying to break in. Eventually we used a large built gent from the tap room as a battering ram. Dave and I were in the bar by 12.10 and ale was supped until 2pm. joined by Garry and another guy whose name escapes me. At 2 Dave and I take lunch in the private apartments of the Hollywood and we shared a bottle of wine (Chevalier de la Rose Grand vin De Bourgogne. Importers H. Sichel and Sons Ltd, W2). Not too bad.

Glenn called on us with his holiday money (£145) and the three of us went to the pool room for a game. Laugh myself stupid at Dave who clowns around like no one I've ever known. At 7 o'clock it's time to part. Had a word with Jim Glynn and went to the bar and bought Mrs G a drink and said farewell. The lads took me to Manchester at 7.30-ish and I was home by 10.30 with £290 in my pocket. The lads are coming on June 3 and I plan to go back to Stockport on July 9, the day before 'Operation Ibiza'.

Martyn and Tony are at Pine Tops and M gives me a blank cheque for tomorrow's pilgrimage to WH Smith and Sons. Bath and bed at approximately midnight.

-=-

Saturday January 15, 1977

Weekend in Stockport. It's so good to see Dave G and Glenn again, and to meet Mr & Mrs Glynn at the Hollywood Hotel._____. -==-

Hollywood Hotel, Edgeley.

Lily Glynn (far right) with Hollywood barmaids...

David Glynn, Esq

Martyn, Chris & Peter with holiday brochures.

We all seem to get on great and the only hint of animosity is shown by Peter, who doesn't think much of Glenn. To Manchester tonight and Kloisters Discotheque where a glass of Southern Comfort is only 22p. Naturally, I drink this all night. Martyn is half dead and only Glenn and I seem to be pissed. At the end of the evening we had a three mile walk after the late night bus from Manchester dropped us off somewhere in the wilds of Greater Manchester. I enjoyed the stroll, but Dave and I flagged down a taxi. One picked us up about a mile from Edgeley (where Dave lives), and it cost us 50p each! Thieving swine. Christopher and I stayed at Glenn's residence and are serenaded to sleep by an amusing American porn LP.







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