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.

-=-

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.

-=-

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.

-=-