Friday November 3, 1978

Dear God I feel just terrible. To quote Sir Henry Campbell-Bannerman ~ "my eyes are like piss holes in the snow". Hideous, quite hideous.

Did little or no work and Sarah took me to Len's Bar at lunch in an attempt to revive me but it simply failed to work.

Didn't hear from Christine. I bet she feels the same.

At 5:30 Jacq and I went with Dave B to meet Lynn at Yeadon. We had every intention of going to see 'Grease'. At 6:30 after fish and chips we 'nipped' into the Clothiers 'just for a quick one' where we were joined by Sue and Pete, who put us off by telling us that the queue for the film at the Odeon is five miles long. We too readily believed them, and carried on drinking. It was a great relief for me. I can think of nothing worse than John Travolta's leather gear in glorious technicolour.

The six of us moved on the the Crown, and then the Drop. All quite pissed up. ______________________.

Pete says he's going to blackmail me over _________________________.

Jacq got a bus at about 11 and the others called in at Pine Tops to see Mum and Dad. Dave and I were hideously pissed, and this always niggles Mummy when she's stone cold sober. We squabbled slightly and I argued with Dad about the Labour party and nationalisation. David joined in the argument but nobody could understand what he was talking about.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Saturday April 15, 1978

Moon's first quarter 14:56

Sun rises 06:06

Sun sets 19:57

Quite revolting. What words can adequately describe the horror of a furry tongue, and eye balls like mushy peas in a sea of blood? My throat resembled the floor of the Black Hole of Calcutta. To make matters worse Jacq and I were compelled to walk to within one mile of Burley-in-Wharfedale in blazing sunshine, to suffer the agony of scraping walls, helping to demolish walls, and such like for almost eight hours. No Jew in any of the luxurious Russian labour camps can ever have suffered like poor Jacq and I did. And all this for no reward of any kind. Truly, we did a great Christian thing this day. "To labour and not to ask for any reward save that of knowing we do thy will ~ Amen".

At about 12 Jacq and I took a lunch break and devoured fish and chips and supped one meagre drink in the Red Lion. We laughed a good deal because we were so exhausted and couldn't stop ourselves.

Back at Lawn Road we were joined by John who talked a good deal of mumbo jumbo with David. At 5 my dear brother brought Jacq and I home. He's lending me a suit for Gina's wedding next week.

Peter, yes Peter Nason, made pork chops, &c for dinner, and we all ate at about 6pm. I almost fell to sleep across the table.

Jacq and I went down to the bus stop with every intention of going into Leeds to watch 'Close Encounters of a Third Kind' at the Odeon cinema. We stood for an hour an no omnibus came and so once again we had to resort to consuming booze. The Yorkshire Rose, our first port of call, then on foot to Yeadon and the Clothiers. We had a quick dash round Yeadon Fair, which was ridiculously muddy, before heading down Henshaws Lane to the Woolpack Inn.


The Woolpack.

A couple of drinks later we decided to call it a day. Neither of us had been bounding around with joy and a lifeless expression hung over our gaunt features. At about 10:30 Jacq got a Leeds bus and I walked home. It was a pleasant evening and I bounded home under the twinkling stars.

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Thursday November 24, 1977

Thanksgiving Day, U.S.A. Saw Nureyev in 'Valentino' at the Odeon with Sarah. We both thought it was a marvellous film. It was one of those films you could see over and over again. Neither of us can understand why it had such bad reviews in the papers. It must be because the critics resent the idea that a ballet dancer can make a good film. I have always thought that you needn't be an actor to be a film star.

I have a feeling that these meetings with Sarah are drawing to yet another close. _________. The death knell to these mild flings is usually sounded by the arrival of an immensely rich 25 year-old male who carries her off to his Palladian seat out of my clutches. This is happening right now, I'm afraid. She is bored of me. Coming out of Leeds with her on the bus I realised all is lost___________. She got off the bus and disappeared into the mist of West End Lane.

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Thursday April 17, 1975

The name Barbra Streisand will forever be imprinted in large capitals across the frontage of my heart. The woman should be knighted or perhaps canonised by by Pope Paul or something. Joan of Arc, Gladys Aylward, Queen Victoria, Germaine Greer and Princess Anne can ALL stand aside for this lady. Boy! What a Girl! Those eyes! That nose! That figure. God! Dave, Sandra and me went to to the Odeon in Leeds to see 'Funny Lady' in which Miss Streisand excelled all bounds of things which one normally excels. It finished at 10.30 and we nipped into the Take and Bake in Headingley for chicken and chips. Sandra devoured a nasty looking sausage and baked spud with crumbly cheese all over it. The car windows were so steamed up that David had to guess (more or less) where the bloody road was. Sandra looked sexy. I still don't believe she's as old as she surely must be - if you know what I mean. Well, she only looks 21-22-ish, no older than say Sarah - and yet her son Gary must be eight if he's a day. Wonderous it really is. Home at 11 to chat with Ma and Pa for half an hour. I try to persuade them to say they'll go to Windsor for a weekend with me in 3 or 4 weeks time but all Mum can talk about is my holiday in August and how much I'll have to save for it. Once again I'll finish with one word. Yak!

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