Saturday September 22, 1979

_. Home to Guiseley at 10am, then on to Stockport in the Triumph Spitfire with the top down. We had some peculiar looks from some of the motorists on the windswept M62.

We joined Dave G for a typical Stockport drinking session, but he wasn't on form, complaining of 'a chill'. At 3 we went to buy eggs and bacon for tomorrow's breakfast and ate half a pound of cheese in the street. Back at the Hollywood [pub] we watched tv and slept until almost 8pm. We were all lethargic. Dave took us to the Georgian restaurant in Stockport where we had T-bone steaks. The energy burned in attacking the food just about finished me off, and back at the Hollywood I was shamefully reduced to drinking shandy. I could barely hold the bloody glass.

-=-

Monday July 23, 1979

_. Eventually climbed out of bed at about 11am and waited for Garry and Bill. The bar was open but neither Dave or I could face having a drink. Garry came in saying his car is 'off the road', and so Dave offered to drive me home. ___________.

Home by 2pm. Mum looks well. She filled us in with all the news and gossip which took us until about 5pm. Poor little Catherine has a heart defect of some kind - probably a hole in the heart. Maria took both babies to the RC church yesterday at Burley-in-Wharfedale and had them christened. It is a sad thought on which to reflect that my tiny, innocent niece is banned by law from ever becoming Queen of England.

Susan and Peter are having an engagement party at Otley on Wednesday night. Dave G cannot make it.

Billy is shattered by the Ibiza experience and has vowed never to go on holiday with us again. They, the lads, stayed to tea, and left for Stockport at about 7pm.

Ally was particularly shy, and dashed off for a sauna with Sue. Susie's hair is permed again.

-=-

to be continued

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. _________.

-=-

Saturday December 16, 1978

Sun rises 08:00

Sun sets 15:52

Sunny and warm. Dave G's cheque arrived from Stockport in a  registered envelope and at 12:30 I caught a bus and buggered off to Bradford to pay the holiday deposit. The city was like the streets of Teheran have been in recent weeks and I resolved to remain in this swarming metropolis for as little as possible.

Met Denise at WH Smith's. She is remarkably thinner. I paid up and then carried her off to the Painted Wagon. It has been so long since we last met it is almost pointless trying to catch up on our experiences. We say we must have a night out soon, but how many times have we promised ourselves this and then done absolutely nothing about it?

Tonight Denise is going with Chris R to see Dave & Laura Pattison (Laura, nee Butchart). Chris and Michelle have finished. Denise is very changed. I suppose she thinks the same of me.

Lucy Lindsay-Hogg

Home at 3:30 to drink sherry with Mum and Susie. The wedding photographs of Lord Snowdon and Lucy Lindsay-Hogg are on the front pages of the newspapers. She is quite ugly. Her arrival at the register office is reminiscent of a housewife dashing to the Co~op  for a pack of toilet rolls. I feel so sorry for Princess Margaret because she has suffered irreparable damage this year over her divorce and friendship with Roddy Llewellyn. The divorce would never have happened but for the fact that Snowdon wanted to re~marry. She must be sad and lonely.

Tonight Lynn and Dave came and we sat round the Christmas tree drinking lager with whisky chasers until 1 in the morning. Mum was quite drunk and became quite nasty. When Sue and Pete came in she turned on Peter like a wild animal. Poor Susan was upset and I consoled her upstairs. She says Mum is always horrible with Peter when Dave B is present. David Baker is Mum's blue~eyed boy.

David severely gashed his finger on a corned~beef tin and the climax of the evening was a violent argument about Lillie Langtry. Mum and Lynn said she was a prostitute. A King's mistress can never be a prostitute.

-=-

Monday November 20, 1978

________________. Dave and I left Stockport at 12 for Manchester. We had a drink at the Paddy's Goose pub and at 1:30 I left for Leeds. Got to Leeds at 3pm and I attempted to phone Carole at work. The bloody coins wouldn't go in the slot & I couldn't get through to her. Afterwards I went by bus to Menston and delivered a birthday card to her house. Margaret Philips spotted me and she kept me talking for 10 minutes or so. She says Carole is having a 21st birthday party at the Cow & Calf on Friday. "We didn't think she'd live to see another one, Michael," she said. No, neither did I.

Tonight: Christine and Doreen came at 8:30 and we went to the Shoulder of Mutton and then the Fox and Hounds. The old bitch of a landlady at the Fox wouldn't cash a cheque for Christine and we all had a heated argument on the subject. The girls threatened to resign, &c &c.

At 10:30 we went to the Elmer. The place was absolutely packed with Jill's friends, and we knew most of them. Carole was there looking gorgeous. She was with the nurse she met whilst in the infirmary. She thanked me for the birthday card and then disappeared with Mick Lynch. CB and I had a lengthy discussion about Carole. She had no idea how I felt about her. Tony, Pete M and Chris were there. They say John Grady is coming over in a couple of weeks.

Christine and I played at clowns and, to emphasise the point, she poured a full glass of cider down the front of my underpants. How we howled with laughter.

-=-

Sunday November 19, 1978

26th after Trinity 6th Sunday before Christmas

Out of bed at 11:30 feeling quite well, considering. Dave is in no state to do anything. He was pale, short of breath, and all conversation died when his grandfather placed a greasy, eggy breakfast before him. He started to make strange noises from the back of his throat and he quickly fled the room. He disappeared to his bedroom for half an hour.

I joined Bill, Garry, Steve and Paul (?) in the bar. All laughing at Dave's plight. Garry said his banana wine bottles are sticky and empty. Another marathon drinking session followed and we laughed at and abused the barmaids through the alcohol fumes and the clouds of green tobacco smoke. What a life! Dave joined us at 1:45 looking considerably better. He put down his new~found recovery to a turkey sandwich which I cannot see as being relevant. We had turkey for lunch afterwards.

Tonight we went to the Swan pub in Edgeley ~ our first port of call ~ and then to the Nelson, where Bill has worked in the bar for many years. We stayed there until about 11. Fish and chips on the way home. A film on the tv took us to about 1am. It definitely pays to stay over at Stockport on Sunday nights. I calculate that I have had 35 pints of lager since Friday!

-=-

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 November 17, 1978

Up at 7 feeling slightly groggy. It became steadily worse as the day went on. Sarah and Carol J are going to London for the weekend and so Ursula came in to do a daytime shift. It was good to see her again. For a thirty year~old mother of two she remains quite sexy.

At lunchtime I drank Eno's, the 'tummy settling' concoction. It worked quite well. At 3:30 I left for Manchester and got there in record time. I was bashing on the door of the Hollywood Hotel by 5:30.

Had a mixed grill. Watched Alastair Burnet reading the evening news on the ITV. Jeremy Thorpe's case comes up at Minehead on Monday. Some of us are making bets that Thorpe's clothes will soon be found piled up by some fast flowing river or picturesque ocean seascape. He could well follow the example set by John Stonehouse.

Dave G is bearded and in fine form. We went with Bill, Garry and Steve to see Stockport County play Newport. It was a diabolical game which ended in a 1-1 draw. Watching the planes circling above waiting to land at Manchester was a far more interesting pastime.

Back to the Hollywood with a select mob of football supporters. We drank about 10 pints each and generally had a riot. Bed at 1:30 or so after watching 'The L~Shaped Room' on Granada TV.

____________.

-=-

Sunday June 25, 1978

5th Sunday after Trinity

Excessively cold day. Had a very comfortable night's sleep. Woke at about 11. Grandad Glynn (minus dentures) made our breakfast of eggs and bacon.

The usual Stockport luncheon followed which consisted of about five pints between 12 and 2 with Garry, Dave and Billy. Billy goes on about his niece's wedding. Garry joked about my hilarious trousers. I'm definitely taking them on holiday after this reception.

Afterwards David, Mr Glynn and I watched a dreadful Tony Curtis film after which I was the only conscious survivor.

Before long it was the World Cup Final between Argentina and Holland. Bill and Garry came to watch. At half time with the score at 1-0 to Argentina the lads took me to Manchester where I boarded a coach full of rebellious children ~ nothing short of yobbos ~and off it was to Leeds.

Home by 10:30. Glenda Jackson's 'Touch of Class' was on tv. Poor Mum hasn't been too well. I am worried about her really.

David, Lynn and Dad have decorated the bedroom at Lawn Road.

-=-

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.

-=-

Sunday February 12, 1978

1st in Lent.

Breakfast very enjoyable at the Hollywood and at 12 we were back in the bar drinking again. Disgusting really.

Read in the Sunday papers about poor Spike Milligan's wife, who died last week from cancer.

By 3:00pm we were all eating once again, and at 5 we were on the road home. Coming over the Pennines the weather became evil and foul. Cannot imagine going to Rawtenstall tomorrow if it persists.

Felt tired from the exertions but thoroughly enjoyed the visit. Lynn, Dave, Sue and Pete seem happy too.

Phoned Chris tonight and he thinks the trip planned for tomorrow can still go ahead. I have to contact him in the morning. He has decided that Jacq and I will be getting married. __________.

Took a long needed plunge in the bath. I think I'm giving up on Edward VI. The book has become too deeply involved  in church affairs of the 1550s for my liking. I like a biography to be more personal. 'El Dorado' by Baroness Orczy is the only book I have left. A sad thing it is.

-=-

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.

-=-

Sunday December 11, 1977

3rd in Advent. Not a very comfortable night. Dave and I were tucked up in the same bed again. Me at the bottom and Dave at the top. I kicked him several times in the face.

We eventually took breakfast at noon and went straight into the bar for yet another session. I cut down my alcoholic intake drastically. Bill was amusing. He seems to have taken a shine to me. We chatted away in Rotter's like we were ancient friends.  I fear Garry is very shy.

Queen Victoria: is that a smile?

At 2 we had lunch and watched 'Royal Heritage' with some film of Balmoral including scenes of the Queen and Duke (of Edinburgh) dancing Highland reels at a ghillies ball. The royal way of life is no different to what it was in Victoria's day. Princess Alice, Countess of Athlone was featured too and she said she'd once asked her grandmother, Queen Victoria, whether she had ever said "we are not amused" and the venerable old lady flatly denied she had ever uttered such a sentence. Princess Alice is disappointed. Victoria, she says, is a much maligned monarch.

At 7:30 after bidding farewell to Mr & Mrs Glynn Dave, Bill, Garry and I went to Manchester. More booze (only a slight amount though) and at 8:30 I left for home. Won't be seeing the lads again until the New Year. Dave is working on New Year's Eve. Home by 10:30.

Mum is knitting me a 'sloppy' pullover which, to the horror of all present, doesn't even fit over my head. Certain amendments are going to have to be made, I fear.

Back to the YP in the morning. It's going to take a super human character to get through the day.

-=-

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 October 30, 1977

21st after Trinity. Had a few drinks at lunch and watched TV in the afternoon and returned home at 8.30 (arriving at Pine Tops at 10.20) after having a drink in Manchester with Dave, Bill and Garry. Sorry it's so brief, but it's better than:-
a) a kick in the balls,
b) a letter bomb, or
c) syphilis, or even
d) Syphylis.


-=-

Saturday October 29, 1977

Woke with a ghastly hangover at 7am. Dear Mama was, of course, my alarm system. My God - the whites of my eyes were bright pink - a horrible Rhodes give away if ever I saw one. From the depths of deepest Berkshire to the bleak hills of Cumbria if you should ever come across a man with bloodshot eyes you can guarantee his lineage. Just like the wearer of the Crown of St Edward owes his glory to Alfred the Great, the man with the eyes of a purple hue does so because of Lawrence the Great, commonly called Rhodes. (God, my mind is wandering again).

Hollywood Hotel.

I was in Stockport by 12.30 and went with David G to the Hollywood where we sat drinking in the billiard room until 3pm. Billiards. A pathetic, mindless pastime. Bashing little balls into little holes on a big, oblong, green table? Why not take up missionary work in Saigon instead?

Out to the County Club at 10 with David, Bill (up to his usual standard of insanity), and Garry. These 'cabaret evenings' are all very well but not really my scene. Loud, lewd comedians and the like. I'm not a fan of sitting in a chair drinking and clapping simultaneously as well as taking in the comic's obscenities. I'd sooner be drinking in a dark, perfumed grotto with James Brown records pounding rapturously. Oh God!


-=-

Sunday September 18, 1977

15th after Trinity. Felt incredibly revolting again. Mrs Glynn made Dave and I a massive, greasy but glorious breakfast, and at 12 we set out for what was for all intents and purposes, a walk. The brightness of the sun was hideous and we sought solace in a pub with a loud juke box and friendly barmaid, even though she was a bit rough. "I've been married four times but never divorced" she proudly told us as she pulled the Guinness and went on to say she'd thrown one of her wedding rings in the river Mersey and "one in the bloody river on the Isle of Man", which due to my lack of geographical knowledge remains anonymous. Don't we mix with a nice kind of woman?

Dave G.

Dave says he thinks we are going to have a wedding in the family and so I just could not contain myself and revealed all. He was jubilant and plans sending an hilarious card on Sept 28. He likes Lynn and Dave immensely and jokes about being on the top table at the wedding. It turned into another session and by 2pm we were marching back to the Hollywood canned yet again.

Roast lamb for lunch. Afterwards we slept in our armchairs. At 8pm he saw me off from Stockport Station for Manchester. Coach back to Leeds and home for 10.30. The family were watching TV and eating a Chinese meal. I felt half starved but nobody had thought to put some grub on one side for me. Disgusting treatment when I had been many miles away for the weekend.

Watched the expurgated version of 'Soldier Blue' on the BBC which was quite boring. I feel a cold coming on. Blocked head, nose, ears, &c.

-=-

Saturday September 17, 1977

I have very strange thoughts about the events of last night. Sarah became so ridiculously miserable _______. From what I remember of our visit to Wetherby Delia and I were eating carnations and slapping turkeys before we left for home. (For some reason a very large, uncooked turkey was sitting in the bath in the upstairs loo of the private flat of the pub where we made merry).

Turkey slapping ....

I was up at 9.30 and expected a call from Delia about returning to Harewood for coffee, but the summons never arrived. Had a bath and left at 12.30 for Stockport.

I was in Manchester by 2.30 and managed to get through the blockade of Manchester Utd fans who were attempting to sabotage the Lord Mayor's Parade. I got lost in Stockport and arrived at the Hollywood after 4pm. Dave G was awakened from his afternoon slumbers and he greeted me with yawns and bleariness of eye.

Tonight to Stockport County Club with Dave, Steve B, Garry B, and Bill (Wright). Bill is one of the most hilarious people I have ever met. We just acted wild and really daft. At one point an act on the stage just stopped to watch us lads performing. In tears laughing. Mind you, it doesn't take Agatha Christie to fathom that the drink intake was at the bottom of the cause of this revelry. Back to the Hollywood at 2.30 not that I can remember anything about it. Stockport always guarantees severe intoxication and in most cases, paralysis. Visits here should perhaps be banned. Perhaps Margaret Thatcher will put a stop to it all next autumn.

-=-

Saturday July 9, 1977

Delia Collis.

Delia's champagne and strawberry party. Not really my scene - old ladies with blue rinses and flashy rings. Delia was fabulous as usual.

Got home at about 5pm with Eileen and Michael (Robertshaw) and within minutes Tony, Linda and Martyn were here to take me off on holiday for 14 bloody days!

Night out at the Poca-a-Poca in sunny Stockport and then waved bye bye to Tony and Linda. To the Hollywood quite pissed up.





-=-

Wednesday June 29, 1977

Work was ghastly and I made my exit at 3.30pm.  Tony rang later and said he was cheesed off with Barry and I told him to venture to Pine Tops. He arrived looking pale with a revolting tooth ache and within minutes we are on the open road heading in the direction of a tavern.

Tony.

Alcohol is supposedly good for tooth ache. It's also a marvellous cure for back ache, heart ache, and cancer. If nothing else it helps you to die laughing.

The first port of call was the Queen's on Apperley Lane. I am reminded of the late Judith Beevers (see May-Jul 1974) but otherwise it's dead, flat and miserable. The brandy here didn't do much for Tony's throbbing tooth and so we went to the dreaded Drop in Guiseley, where the brandy was equally ineffective.

Tony agrees to take Martyn and I to Stockport on July 9 and says he'll probably bring Linda along too. Will she fit in at the Hollywood? __________. Last call was the Fox & Hounds, Menston.

Home to find Mama and Papa entertaining Edith & Ernest, who have brought a supply of wine with them. I did a spot of tasting myself. A good time was had by all. Night Night.

-=-