Saturday February 26, 1977

A great day. Tony and Martyn come at 12.30 and the three of us go to Bradford. The Gay Liberation movement are holding a mass rally and we seriously consider setting up a 'Kiss Me Quick' stall in Manningham Lane.

Kiss Me Quick Stall?

We go to WH Smith's and make verbal love to Michelle. Delightful bird. Tony buys a pair of shoes, and at 2pm we set off for Uncle George's** residence at Harewood. Up to our knees in mud and slime we head straight for the beer tent where the lager is unbearably cold. Three sausage rolls later we decide that the hill climb is incredibly boring and we head back to the car which is parked in a cow field. Wading through water-bogged trenches we spot the car trapped in by three or four other vehicles. It's like the Battle of Vimy Ridge. Coated in shit we dislodge the car and set off like Japanese mud wrestlers in search of a car wash.

Meanwhile: That night. Down to the Hare with Tony, John & Maria. CB is pissed and says Richard Marshall is rotting in a dungeon in Leeds following an incident at the (Leeds) United match this afternoon. Chris and Pete M come in. Go with Tony, John and Maria to the Craven Heifer at Addingham and Chris and Pete follow on. Tony is such a great lad.

** The Rt Hon. Earl of Harewood.

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Saturday February 19, 1977

My alarm sounds at 10.45. Sit about with some crumpets and tea waiting for Tony. He comes at 11.30 looking worse for wear. Go down to Ilkley with his car packed with belongings and unload it at his new apartment. We then go off in the direction of Doncaster to collect some so-called furniture from his friend Peter. Bugger all it is really. Just three broken down old chairs and something closely resembling a table. Hardly worth trailing all that way to Doncaster for. Tony isn't too happy about it either. Have a cup of tea and watch TV before returning to civilization.

Tony Crosland: snuffed it.

Hear that the Foreign Secretary snuffed it this morning. Is it bye bye to Denis Healey at the Treasury?

Back to Bradford and fill the car with more bric-a-brac. I get home for 8 and am back out again at 9. Tony, Martyn and me down to the Hare. Joined by Chris and Pete M and go down to the Crown at Ilkley. Get pissed and ring Judith, who is serving at the Hare. She says she will come to the flat if she can find Kathryn. Oh do we get pissed!  Back to the flat: Naomi, Karen (Moorhouse), Chris, Pete, and eventually Judith and Kathryn - the hilarious Miss Kathryn Young.I end up getting engaged to Judith and we exchange rings and shirts, &c. Martyn was horribly seduced by his lady and I've never seen Tony get in such a state. We polished off a bottle of gin and a couple of bottles of wine.




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Friday February 18, 1977

If you could see me now you'd say I didn't have all that long left to live. In fact, at this moment, I closely resemble the Rt. Hon. Charles Anthony Raven Crosland, Secretary of State for Foreign & Commonwealth Affairs. Pneumonia may well have set in. However, at great personal loss and danger I struggled into the offices of the Yorkshire Post and did a fair days work.

Home by 5pm. Have a sirloin steak with Lynn. We had a good chat too.  Oh she is so like her big brother. Mum and Dad were at Marlene's for tea and Sue was at the hairdressers until 7pm.

Oakwood Hall.

Martyn came here at 8.15 and Tony at 8.30. Down to the Hare & Hounds to see Judith. CB (who rang me this morning) comes down to the Hare and reminds me about her 21st birthday party on March 11. Andy and Linda, Chris and Pete M are in too. To the Shoulder of Mutton on Hollins Hill. It's a strange pub. We move on to Bingley after one pint. On to good old Oakwood Hall. When I say 'good old' Oakwood Hall I don't actually mean it. In fact it was 'bloody lousy' Oakwood Hall. Martyn was on good form, Tony was fed up. I was miserable - probably because I've over done it a bit lately, I don't know. Home at 2am. Discuss tomorrow. Definately no discotheque. I'm helping Tony move to Ilkley so we may well end up in the flat - an orgy of merriment and piss. (By piss, I mean booze of course. I'm not addicted to urine like Mr Hitler was).

Note: where's Miss Phillips been of late? Her Royal Highness must surely be 'Fogartising' even though rumour has it that they've finished. I have her new phone number but I don't want to use it. When I see her I really enjoy it, but I don't want to do so by appointment.

-=-

Friday February 4, 1977

Sorry about all this. It's an accident (referring to scribblings and crossings out at the head of the page). Anyway, to get down to business.: Lynne doesn't arrive until 8 and we don'e get to the Hare until NINE. Have a rotten couple of hours. Feel 'off it' and completely shagged out and Lynne looks like 2lb of wet haddock.

2lb of wet haddock.

 

I try and liven myself up by going to talk to Judith. It's no good - things are going to have to drastically change. Home in a downpour when the pub shuts and Lynne leaves for Thornton-le-Dale. I push Peter's car down the road (I always assumed cars had engines?) Change hurriedly and go with Tony and Martyn to Il Trovatore dropping off Janet Simon at home on the way. See Denise, Carole, Karen Moorhouse, Naomi Downing, &c. Oh and Chris and Pete M. Chris and Pete storm off when C sees Martyn with Miss Moorhouse. What a mix-up. I chat seriously with Carole and tell her she's fabulous and that Lynne and I virtually through. Home pissed.

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Sunday January 30, 1977

4th after Epiphany. Up at 12 noon just as John and Maria arrive with JPH in his perambulator. He's parked in the lounge and the usual race follows to see which member of the family can first lay hands on him. The porridge he'd had for breakfast at Molly's didn't stay down. In fact he brought a fair amount of it up all over me. Lynne clears off in the direction of Chris's at Horsforth to collect Peter M for the great trek back to Ty-Onnen. Why do they have to go home just for one bloody night?

John and his first-born.

We had lunch at 2. Peter N included which is quite a laugh because he always 'has a go' at Mum. He has a great sense of humour.

I work tonight. Yes, I give the YP use of my amazing brain for one whole evening. Work 6.20pm - 1am. Not too bad an onslaught really. Did about 48m tons of filing. Oh God, I'm confused again. Women, I'm afraid. Ring Judith and arrange to go see the 'Pink Panther' next Wednesday. We joke about our constant failure to see the danmed thing. Since the Wednesday after Christmas the arrangements have gone hay-wire. Rang Dave Glynn and had a chat.


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Sunday January 23, 1977

3rd after Epiphany. Wake up at a late hour once again and Peter plays, loudly, an LP of military marches on his stereo. The three of us discuss Peter's bowels, &c. He tells us that his grandmother died at 4.30 this morning. I am embarrassed. What can I say? Should I dress in a black pullover and sing lamentations of mourning? Or do I ignore the situation? Mr Mather showed no emotion, and the whole family looked happier than usual. They seem to think that the old girl is better off out of it. At 80 she's had a good innings anyway.

In bed at Ty-Onnen

After a ridiculously late breakfast Peter, Chris, Lynne and I go to a remote forest (Dalby?) which seems miles away, and where Peter attempts to feed a bunch (or whatever the collective noun is) of ducks, over-fed ones too. To be honest, they didn't touch a crumb which was a bit 'off'' really because I expected more from them after we'd trailed half way across North Yorkshire just to see them.

Chris Ratcliffe, the Horsforth banker.

Back to Ty-Onnen for dinner and then on to Pickering cinema to see 'Josie Wales'. Yes, I've seen this one before too. Lynne stayed at home complaining of a headache and saying she was going to brush up on her Spanish. Christopher decided to return home tonight and I decided to accompany him. Fog. Back at Pine Tops for 12.30. Have a letter from Uncle Harry with details of his mother's birth-place &c, and details of the Upton family. Uncle H is brilliant.

Friday January 21, 1977

It's just about a year since John & Maria announced that they were expecting the arrival of a new addition to the family. It seems longer, somehow. Did my brother ever live here with us? Did I ever share a bedroom with him? These things seem deep in the past, and I cannot imagine him without Maria or baby JPH.

Ruth Upton, later Rhodes.

Home at 5. Uncle H is at the tea table. Discuss his mother and the Upton family. (Refer to the family papers, no room to discuss them here). He is slightly pissed, and at 6.30 he goes with Mum & Dad down to see John & Maria and the poor baby. Measles at 4 months old seems a little odd to me.

Down at the Hare: Lynne, John, Maria, Harry, Dad, Sue, Peter N, Lynn, Denise, Michelle, Tony, Chris, Pete M, &c. Pay Denise our £10 deposits (£70 in all) and all is nicely arranged now. I'm miserable when, at 11 o'clock, all the mob, including Carole and Naomi too, move on to Oakwood Hall, whilst Lynne and I had to drive to Thornton-le-Dale and miss all the fun and excitement. Had a serious talk on the journey. Lynne talks about moving back over here. I remind her of Stephanie Ferguson's flat in Burley-in-Wharfedale. I enjoy getting things off my chest like that. Like what? At Ty-Onnen we swill Martini with Karl and a pal of his. Bed at 4.30 and sit reading one of Peter's Enid Blyton books. Ugh!

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Tuesday January 18, 1977

Sweet dreams until midday. The hour of 12 no less. I emerged from my bed in no placid frame of mind. I attempted to bite Mama's head off and swore and cursed as I devoured my lunch. People do tell me that I can change suddenly from being the perfect specimen of gentility to a snarling beast within seconds. A split personality do you think? My cousin ________is a schizophrenic so perhaps I am too. Is it hereditary? Yours worriedly, Mr Hyde. From my mental state to the physical side. I am much improved today, but not ready for the great responsibilities of the Yorkshire Post. Well, not until Thursday anyway. -=-

Cousin Sam, me and Papa ....

Michelle (the friendly travel agent) rang me this afternoon to say the Hotel Pacific was booked provisionally until 4.30. She is sweet. I ask her to hang on until tomorrow. I'm sure everyone will agree. I ring Chris and he says 'yes'. So does Peter M. Glenn rings and we go into raptures over 'Ibiza 77' chanting 'Up Pam' &c. Watch a play on the TV and discuss Papa's parentage with him before retiring to bed. He says his mother was born at a place called Lewis in Wiltshire. There are only two Lewises. One is in the Outer Hebrides and the other is spelt LEWES and is in Sussex - near Eastbourne. That must be the place, but first I'll write to Uncle Harry in Cumbria for confirmation.

Sunday January 16, 1977

Peter & Martyn playing pool at the Hollywood.

2nd after Epiphany. Fried eggs and the lot at Glenn's place. By midday however we're in Dave's comfortable lounge swilling ale. I'm on the Pils. After closing at 3pm we move into the pool room and continue drinking. 

This is followed by a guided tour of the pub and lunch in the private suite of the Glynn family. Dave and Glenn pay me the £15 each for the holiday deposit and then we hurtle back over the M62 to snow-ridden Yorkshire. At one point Peter was driving at over 100mph and the automobile creaked, rattled and shook. Had fish and chips from a Chinese restaurant in Bradford - greasy but substantial. Then to the Commercial for a small beverage. Home by 10.30. Relieved that the holiday is more or less sorted out.

Glenn & Martyn

Sunday December 19, 1976

4th in Advent. Devour a fried breakfast and then go to Thornton-le-Dale. Believe it or not I have no hangover and feel fit, vital and active. Poor Lynne is very different indeed. Three anadins later and she's still pale and tired.

I remember few of the Lazenby party details but Lynne tells me that at one stage of the evening a dwarf had my flies down in an attempt to perform a sex act upon my person - much to the amusement of the other guests. The lad didn't have to kneel down evidently. For Christ sake, I've heard it all now! Nice to know I brought a bit of joy into the miserable existence of one of our shorter beings.

Life at Thornton-le-Dale is much the same as it's always been and I cannot be bothered to comment further. Went to Pickering for a drink with Pete M and Chris and discuss the holiday [I left Lynne at home]. Pete said _______.Would I want to go on holiday with somebody who isn't perfect fun?




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Sunday December 5, 1976

2nd in Advent. Have a nightmare and wake up having committed a murder! Don't know who the victim was and what were the motives, but I distinctly remember dropping a body from a bridge into the sea. Weird.

Climb out of bed at some ghastly hour and Lynne attempts to clean her car in freezing temperatures. You can imagine what happened. The whole bloody machine iced up and the sight of Lynne trying to remove frozen soap suds from the windscreen was amazing. She is so bloody willful though - I couldn't persuade her not to attempt this ridiculous exercise in the first place. To thaw out we go off to Pickering and have rum and oranges in the Royal Oak. Two or three drinks and Lynne is in Never Land. Incredible! Back to Ty-Onnen where she proceeds to clown around on the carpet like an imbecile. Mr Mather thought she had gone quite mad and he kept muttering, almost to himself, that he could not understand how I had put up with her for so long. He's a tremendous laugh and frequently says: 'Well, you're still sticking with her, Michael.'

Mr & Mrs Mather, Peter, Karl, Lynne and I watch TV all evening. 'Rising Damp' and then a Paul Newman epic based on the life of a ridiculous American boxer, Rocky Graziano. A name that sounds as though it belongs on a menu in a Italian restaurant. Drink a few whiskies and we all boil and sweat with the ridiculously hot central heating. Bed at 1.30.

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Sunday October 10, 1976

A sunny day. Not umberella weather at all. After breakast, at midday, Lynne and I go to Scarborough with Rebel [the dog], leaving Peter at home messing about with a window frame and Mr Rat glancing at the Radio Times. Spend a couple of hours eating crab and candy [floss] and drinking coca cola and walking the dog. He's a crafty old devil and only limps when he can put it to his advantage. The sun is out in force. Scarborough is much better at this time of the year. No dirty peasants playing ball games all over the beach, &c.

Home to Ty-Onnen at 4.30 to tea and cakes with Mr & Mrs M, Peter, Karl and Mr Rat. Watch TV until the evening meal at 6.30. The gentlemen depart for Horsforth at 7 o'clock and after 'Fawlty Towers' Lynne and I go back to the Royal Oak [I think] in Pickering. Feel bloated all night and take great discomfort in the consumption of cold lager. Donald M and his good lady wife are so matey.


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Saturday October 2, 1976

Out with CB, Martyn, Chris, Pete M & Jane S to the Hare & Hounds, the Knights Bar at Ilkley, and then the Stoney Lea. A good time was had by all but that's all you're going to get on the subject. Bye Bye.

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Monday September 6, 1976

Up at approx. 6.45am and have breakfast with Lynne, Peter, Jane, Karl & David. I had forgotten how childish 15 year-olds are. Not having been associated with that group for some six and a half years I seem to have got out of the hang of it. We leave T-le-D at 7.25 for Leeds - the journey takes 90 minutes. Lynne is a good driver really. A pleasant but quiet trip into boring Leeds and all in all we counted 17 dead rabbits flattened on the homeward road. The recording of the number of our dead 'furry friends' may seem a somewhat sombre excercise, but anything to take the mind off the obnoxious silence of Miss Jane ____, and her bilious brother, David, in the back seat. Do all thirteen year-olds have trouble with wind, or is it me?

Work uneventful. Ring Tony, Lynne and mother [in that order. It's not an order of preference either]. To meet Lynne tomorrow; Tony on Wednesday, and will see Mummy at tea time.

New items: The Earl of Leicester is dead, and so too is the 300 year-old wife of former YP chairman Colin Forbes Adam. Peter N passes his driving test.

Nice to see the family again. Mum says Maria is showing no sign of delivering her son into the world. Have a bath and smoke a cigar in front of a Dirk Bogarde film. Lynne nips up with the luggage then drives off in a great haste.

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Saturday September 4, 1976

To Castle Howard with Lynne, Peter & Jane. We set off in Pete's van but he broke down near Kirkbymoorside, and struggled home and set off again this time in Donald M's car. L and I have a great giggle. However, I've seen nicer stately homes. Too many marble busts and long, empty corridors. The grounds are great though, and the two of us walked round eating liquorice & making fools of ourselves. Peter and Jane seem besotted. Lynne cannot get over it. She's never seen Peter so taken before. What he sees in the girl God only knows. She's 17 but has the brain of a backward 6 year-old, is flat-chested [not even nicely flat chested as some ladies are], and very pale. Ugh. Come on, Peter Baby! Pull yourself together!

Out tonight to Tiffany's at Scarborough until 2am. A good, enjoyable evening. In fact the weekend's been far better than I thought it would be. My only worry was that it might coincide with John & Maria's 'big' event, but so far so good.

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Friday September 3, 1976

Lynne comes at 7 and after a few sandwiches we go up to Bramhope to collect David __[surname held back], a weedy 13 year-old friend of Karl, and brother of Jane, Peter M's girlfriend.

Arrive at Thornton-le-Dale at about 9 o'clock and go to both pubs in the village with Lynne, Peter & Jane. I don't like Jane. A 17-year-old 'know all' who in fact knows absolutely nothing when it boils down to it. Back to Ty-Onnen [the Mather residence] at 11 o'clock with King Edward cigars and a couple of quids worth of beer. Also have two bottles of wine awaiting our consumption. Lynne and I get a bit pissed, but the others look sober. They all seem to enjoy themselves anyway. When everyone else had drifted off to bed only Lynne and I were left [obviously], and we proceeded to drink even more. I'm taking photographs like a regular little Lord Snowdon. Don't ask me what time our orgy of fun finally fell through, but I'm quite sure it was virtually dawn. Lynne is a beaut. People however are saying nasty things about us. "That Mig Rhodes only goes out with Lynne Mather because she looks like Princess Anne." To those misguided souls, whomsoever they are, here is my message: "Drop Dead, Tosh."

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Tuesday August 24, 1976

Come home from work feeling absolutely buggered. Tony rang to suggest visiting the ABC cinema either [on] Wednesday or Thursday, and I say yes to tomorrow night. Give Lynne a ring too and she agrees to accompany us. L says Mrs Mather is far from happy with Thornton-Le-Dale. It's quite understandable really. The Mathers are a close family and are being torn apart because of the move. Lynne is splitting her time between Roundhay and Thornton-Le-D; Peter's working over here but living over there; Karl wanting to stay at school over here, but living over there, &c. It's enough to drive them all completely batty. Poor Vera Mather. My sympathies ineed.

A night in front of the TV. By 11pm I cannot keep my eyes open. Why? It must be the water, or rather lack of it. Yes, the drought is affecting each and every one of us now. Oh, I cannot remember when I last took a glass down from the shelf and turned on the tap to fill it with H2o. My mouth is so dry and I am so dirty. When did I last take a bath? Was it Coronation year? No, it was the day President De Gaulle died because I will never forget the cracking emotion in Kenneth Kendall's voice as he read the 9 o'clock news bulletin just as I sank into the suds. Blimey, do you remember the day when people could actually flush the lavatory?

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Sunday August 8, 1976

8th after Trinity. Up late and after a good lunch retire to the lounge to listen to Pennine Radio. The house is deserted. Mum is in the garden and Dad is at work. Sue, Peter and Lynn and David are at David's brother's in York. Just as I sit down Pete M arrives and asks if I want to accomapny him on a birthday cake distributing adventure. I readily agree. The boredom at home would have been unbearable. Go to Christopher's. Show out holiday photos to Mrs Ratcliffe. Then move on to Denise's but she isn't in either. (When Carole rang on Friday she told me that Denise had gone to London ________________.) From Denise's we went on Peter's place which is in a state of organised chaos. No carpets or furniture - horrible. Sit and drink tea with Lynne, Peter, Mrs Mather and Auntie Lilian. Mr M watches cricket on the TV in the wreckage of the lounge. He was sitting on a soap box. Have a laugh showing the family our holidays pics. Peter measured us all with a tape measure up against the side of the house - I am six feet and half an inch.

At 5pm we all had dinner. That is me, Lynne, Peter, Karl and Mrs M. Oh, and Auntie Lilian. After tea we take the two ladies to see Granny M at Scalebor Park Asylum. Evidently the old girl is 82 and is senile and quite daft, in her old age.

Mrs M comes out of the asylum looking sad, and so Lynne and I take her and Auntie Lilian for a drink to the Red Lion. They cheer up soon enough. After taking them back to Bramhope Lynne and I go to the Commercial until closing time. Today was probably the last time I will ever set foot in Ty-Gwyn (the Mather home in Old Lane) where Lynne has lived for 9 years. The place looked sad and desolate - but it only is bricks and mortar. It's people who make a home - wherever it may be.

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Sunday August 1, 1976

7th after Trinity. Arise at quite a decent hour and make my way to the bathroom. The stench of vomit outside Karl's bedroom is revolting, but after further investigations I see he is the only casualty.

Peter says CB and Roger appear to have had a good time in the lounge and Chris tells that they (CB & Roger) look to have been 'up to things'______________________.

Denise and I take a vaccuum cleaner each and start on the downstairs rooms. Even Roger had a duster in his hand. Lynne was most uncommunicative and surly much to the amusement of CB who kept grinning at me across the lounge. By 11.30 we've done all we can and Chris takes Romeo & Juliet home (that's Christine & Roger by the way).

Denise, Peter, Lynne and I sit in the dining room chatting until Mr & Mrs Mather get in at 12. I can see Mr M casting his gaze around the premises looking for cases of vandalism. I shudder when I see him mounting the stairs because I know just what a dreadful smell will assail his nostrils when he reaches the top.

At12.30 - Lynne who is all packed ready for her holiday - brings me home.We kiss and part until Saturday night. Have lunch with Mum, Dad, Sue & Peter and then spend a couple of hours with the Blackwells. We talk about Vic Feather, the Duchess of Windsor, the Queen and Queen Mother and other sundries. Edith had some unsavory comments to make about the old duchess and she says that the Queen Mother 'fancies herself'.

Back home I watch TV all night with Mum & Dad. A good programme about the history of the BBC with bits of programmes all bunged together. After Dad goes to work Mum and I watched a sad, morbid film with Elizabeth Taylor and Montgomery Clift. Don't get me wrong, Elizabeth and Montgomery didn't watch the film with us - they were in it.

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Saturday July 31, 1976

Climb out of bed at 1pm and after eggs and bacon for breakfast Lynn and I go into Otley on a shopping expedition. I take Peter's present with me so that I can go straight on to Bramhope afterwards. Have a laugh with Lynn who is debating what to buy Peter for his 21st. I leave her still thinking about this having bought a few bottles to take with me. Arrived at Bramhope at 4.30.

Lynne is there with her friend Jean unpacking crates of Schofield's sandwiches and other delicacies. Chris and Andy are just leaving ____________. He's like a big girl at times. Or even a little girl. Peter is thrilled with his 'Silver Convention' LP and we played it about 75 million times while going through the holiday photos together. The girls take about three hours to ready themselves and to kill time Peter I go for a quick drink to the Fox & Hounds (Bramhope). Chris and Denise come back at 8 or so. Jean is in hysterics. She plays a ridiculous game touching my bum, knees and elbows. Just a general grope really. Go to the Dyneley Arms where everybody meets. Sing 'Happy Birthday' and 'Twenty One Today' for the host and at about 9.30 or 10 we go back to the house and party. Don't really see Lynne all night, and when I do (see her) she's off hand. I drift round having social intercourse with everyone and distinctly recall devouring a vase of carnations (with Dave L) from the dining room table much to the horror of Mrs Maria Rhodes.

All the usuals attended - far too numerous even to mention. Carole didn't come and people kept telling me she's gone to London for the weekend. I don't believe it. She'll be out with Chris, Pete and Denise tomorrow night. CB was pissed up. We kissed and it was stimulating and pleasurable and entirely relieving. Does this mean I should do away with Roger and take CB for myself? Or does it mean all girls excite me other than ______? Watch this space.

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