Thursday August 11, 1977

A hot day. Sat in the garden with Mum and Susan until lunchtime and had the occasional lager. Just like been on holiday again. The temperature was in the 70s when I set off to Leeds at 4pm and if there's anything I feel least like doing on a hot, summers afternoon, it's work. However, it's inevitable for plebeians such as I.

Just me and Wendy at the YP until I left at 11.

Grouse: family reunion?

Hundreds of thousands of grouse will be having family reunions in the moorland heather tonight no doubt reminiscing on past escapades together and chanting the occasional prayer. Some of them will weep, or at least do the grouse equivalent, which is, I think, when they bash their wings together whilst frantically squeaking. Yes, tomorrow is the Glorious Twelfth.

Home in a taxi with a witty driver who, on parting,  bid me "Goodnight and God Bless". Who the hell does he think he is? The Pope I suppose.

Made a couple of salad sandwiches and retired to my chamber not particularly knackered. I've been a good deal worse.





-=-

Saturday August 6, 1977

Sue, Pete and I went to Ilkley at lunchtime. Linda W was busy making sausage rolls and Tony was out shopping. Peter just stood with his eyes glued firmly to the Rose & Crown across the road, and it was a very tempting sight. On Tony's return he suggested we go over the road 'for a few'. Peter's dream was fulfilled.

Peter M & John Grady.

Three pints and several Max Miller jokes later we were back at the flat cleaning away months of filth and devastation. Spent £11 at Hillard's on booze, would you believe. Tony had 'words' with Linda just before she left after preparing the food. It all started when she said "I'm not coming if Denise is". __________.

Andy and Linda: married Aug 6 1977.

Home by tea time. I have a message from John Grady in Rawtenstall. He and Steve want to come over for the night - is it all right? Oh My God it's bloody perfect. I waited at home for them to arrive. Mum and Dad went out for dinner and Sue and Pete went on to Ilkley. The lads arrived at about 9.30 with Phil and Charlie - a couple of friends and the 5 of us went to the Crescent and on to the Rose & Crown before going to the party. All a bit pissed. Mum and Dad came to the flat and stayed for quite a while. They were laughing with John, who is riotous. Denise arrived and left at about 2.30 with Ron. ____________.The festivities went on until about 6.30am.









-=-

Monday July 25, 1977

Woke up feeling really terrible. Shaking like a leaf too. Had a large, greasy breakfast with Susan. With Sue and Pete to the Commercial at lunchtime but after one drink I'm decidedly worse. My hands were shaking too.

Sue & Pete.

Food doesn't seem to do any good either. We took fish and chips home and I played around with mine pushing it round the plate. Just no appetite.  Mum and Dad joined us at 1.30. Martyn joined us at 3 and stayed until 10.30. Watched a good film starring Albert Finney and Audrey Hepburn. Go to bed dog tired.









-=-

Saturday July 23, 1977

Our last full day. We spent the whole time on the beach to reap the benefit of our last touch of Spanish sun. Even at 5.30 when very few remained I clung to my hammock. Jacqui was with us all day.

By 6pm I was in San Antonio buying bottles of drink for Mama and a straw handbag for Darling Sue's birthday.

Group at the Hotel Pacific.

Back at the hotel having a quiet ale by the pool I was approached by a gorgeous dolly bird who wanted to know if I fancied accompanying her on an open jeep tour of San Antonio. Naturally, I was late back for dinner.

Our last wild night. To the Pavement Bar and met Jacqui and Joy. Noel and I walked them to the Hotel March and bid them a fond farewell, probably forever. The coach taking them to Ibiza Airport disappeared in a cloud of dust, and Noel and I returned to the Pavement Bar.

Had a party in my room which was riotous.Wine women and song galore. What must the other residents of the hotel have thought? It must have been about 4am when I got rid of everyone.

-=-

Thursday July 21, 1977

Mig bewigged ....

Rick's beach party again. A really rough passage and most people didn't drink because of the ghastly rolling and swaying. However, I did manage to drink several bottles of champagne and white wine.

Noel found a wig and we fooled around - we looked remarkably like Elizabeth Taylor. Back at the hotel at about 7.30 and waited half an hour for Sue's call to come through. It was fabulous to hear her little voice all those miles away. It's her 18th (birthday) today of course. Mum says she's missing me. David B's grandmother died on July 15.

Evening: can't remember much really but I pissed off Noel and John's balcony all over the Laker Holiday representative and then went out hand-in-hand with Noel (he still dressed as Elizabeth Taylor).

Became so intoxicated that for the first time ever I became violent. Chris said something which angered me and I lashed out at him and floored him and little Anne in the process. Can I be excused because of the drink? No, not really.








=-

Wednesday July 20,1977

at the Hotel Pacific ....

Must remember to phone Sue tomorrow at 7.30pm.

Wednesday July 6, 1977

Even warmer.  Out of bed late and didn't get into the YP until 9.30. No one cares though and people roll in and out at all times of the day and night. Worked until 4.30 with no break and got out into the sun.

Marita brought me to Guiseley where I collected a couple of pairs of trousers from the cleaners and winded my way home through the heat. Sat in the garden with Susan. She tells me Peter doesn't want to marry until he's 26 because he wants a better car in a few years time and cannot afford to do both. We discuss the names of future children. Jason Nason! Really zany is Susan.

We sat and laughed until the sun sank behind the Rawnsley residence. Susan was covered in goose pimples.

Community constable ....

Watched TV until about 10.30. Tony phoned and I told him Carole and I were going out tomorrow. He suggests Carole and I should get to the bottom of things. Quite right, Tony lad.

Poor Mr Bhutto has been chucked out of office in Pakistan and Papa made headlines in the Telegraph & Bogus as well as in the Yorkshire Evening Post tonight. Just a few paragraphs on his appointment as Community Constable. "LAURIE SOCKS IT TO 'EM" all over the front page wasn't to be unfortunately.

Seeing Dad's name in newsprint made me wonder how the relations of celebrities cope with the publicity. Does Mrs Bob Monkhouse quiver all over with excitement every time she reads Bob's name in the Radio Times?

What else can I tell you? Edward VI went to meet his maker on this day in 1553 and George V was dragged down the aisle by Princess May of Teck in 1893.

-=-

Monday June 27, 1977

Stayed in bed until 10.30 which was bliss indeed. It's the sort of thing Rachmaninov would have composed a concerto about. Rhaphsody on a Snoozing theme, &c. (Oh no, I've spelt rhapsody incorrectly).

Pine Tops wine-making ...

After bacon, eggs and mushrooms Peter took Sue and me to Morrison's for more wine-making provisions for Mama. We are going to resemble a brewery before very long - I hope.

All this wine-making takes our mind off the weather at least. Never have I seen such a damp, dismal June. 1976 may well have been the driest period since Henry VIII was a lad but this must surely be the wettest since Noah was up to his tricks.

Lunch with Sue, Pete, Mama and Papa. Watched a film this afternoon on the topical subject of the British working man and strikes (bearing the Grunwick Dispute in mind). Peter Sellers played a shop steward and in one scene, where he is departing from home one morning for picket duty, his wife (Irene Handl) says: "It appears to me, Fred Kite, that you only do any bloody work when you're on strike." Quite an apt statement from little Irene, I fear. Half the bloody pickets in the Grunwick dispute have worked more hours recently than they ever did before. You mark my words.

Evening: Assisted Mama in her wine-making activities which I found enthralling. We made mead as well as a gallon of orange wine. The dining room resembles a distillery, or brewery, or whatever they call a wine-making complex.

I almost phoned Carole today but then thought I'd let her stew, brew, or ferment in her own juice for a few days before doing so. However, I do not feel all that mad about Saturday night - but it was most devilish of her I suppose.

-=-

Sunday June 12, 1977

1st after Trinity. To the Commercial at 12 with Lynn, Martyn, Susan and Peter N. A sunny, bright day and we stood with our drinks in the car park. After a few drinks Lynn confided in me ______________.

Lynn.

Martyn went off to play golf at 1pm and we bought two bottles of wine for dinner and returned home where the drunkenness increased. I would never have believed this _______. Susan is well aware of what has been going on. She has suspected it for a while.

Lynn flaked out for 3 and I was at work for 5pm. Gave Sue and Pete a guided tour of the office then met Ursula who said I shouldn't really be working tonight. Stayed until 11.45 with an incredible headache. Lousy.




-==-

Thursday June 9, 1977

Mum rang me at lunchtime to say she and Papa were leaving for Gloucestershire this afternoon. No idea when they'll be back. They phoned tonight (Lynn took the call) to say they were safely housed in Stratford-upon-Avon - town of the immortal Bard and all that. I shall never forget my day at Stratford with Dave L two or three years ago.

Oakwood Hall

A disastrous evening. Got home at 5.30 and found a note from Susan asking whether she could join Carole and I at Oakwood Hall. Readily agreed, of course.We met Carole at 7.45 and went to Bingley. Carole and I got on famously in the pub, but at Oakwood it got just like old times. I was having a chat with Peter N about politics and became aware of how sombre she had suddenly become. When I questioned her about it she snapped "you see Peter every night of the week - I expect all your attention on Thursdays". I went berserk and said it was hardly my fault that we only saw each other one night a week and accused her of seeking vengeance on me for what took place in May '76. She slapped my face. God only knows what Peter and Susan thought of it all. The fracas continued in the rear of Peter's car and we were still arguing at 2am. She was the one who picked the fight. I just wanted a pleasant night.

Friday May 27, 1977

Beautiful, hot, marvellous day. By 10.30 I'm in the garden covered head to foot in sun-tan oil, reminiscent of a Roman gladiator, and it's in this idyllic pose that I remained throughout the day, breaking off only for lunch.

My Jubilee party is secure. How did I manage it? Well, Mrs Eccles, our new neighbour, was in the garden talking about the noise the workmen are making in her house and expressed her hope that we are not put out by the banging. 'Oh no', said I, 'we're always making loud noises too, you know.Parties and things'. Before I could sit and savour my craftiness here I'd invited her and her hubby to our party on June 4, and Mama, lurking behind a clump of dying tulips, just couldn't say anything. So, it's all on.

How does one manage to get a job in Spain? Do I write to the Spanish Ambassador to the Court of St James? I am very much aware that I asked this question on Wednesday but I've still done bugger all about finding out.

Taking a bath this evening was painful. I realise I've over done it with the sunbathing. In fact I'm not so much like a gladiator now, more like a heap of tomatoes, or pot of lobsters.

Tony rings to say Carole is joining us tonight. I readily approve. Susan joins us without Peter N. He's in Durham at a party with some friends. Independent Pete, eh?

Sue

To the Bod with Sue, Carole, Martyn and Tony. T picks up a tart called Maureen who resembles Shirley Bassey. A bit of a laugh. Very strange to be with Susan and not Peter too. She looks a bit lost as well.

I begin to feel ill a shake with cold. Carole offers no sympathy. She just smiles and says 'serves you right'. Bless her heart. Home at 11.30. To bed with a hot water bottle and an extra blanket. Feel delirious and realise I have bloody sun stroke. Lynn shows some concern and she sits on the edge of my bed offering assurance. By 12 I vomit and then go to sleep. Never felt anything like it before and can't quite understand how it takes 22 years to come to grief in the sun.

-==-

Monday May 16, 1977

Down the lane with a Spring feeling. For some reason my coiffure is standing on end reminiscent of a good old lavatory brush. Go to my hair stylist and emerge 45 minutes later having waved bye bye to about three quarters of a ton of glossy hair. No doubt the peasants have bagged it up and sold it on the Black Market for   huge sums. If they can do it with King Charles I's miserable, ginger stuff I fail to see why they can't do it with mine.

Home by 2 o'clock. Mum is flat out in bed with her back. She's in agony. Dr Jacques comes but he's more interested in my bloody cheeseburger.

Sue: reading about lice ..

Sue is revising for her hair dressing examination and is reading all about lice and other residents of the hairy regions.

Tony comes up at 3 and we go to Bradford and to (WH) Smith's. I hand over £568.28 to Michelle and I'm sure I've never held so much in my hands (that's money, you perverted fool). Accompany Tony to the Co-op where he attempts to rid himself of some of his wares and then it's back to Smith's where we meet Martyn at 4.45. M bought a new pair of shoes and I bought a large poster of the Queen, in Imperial state crown in the Throne Room at Buckingham Palace.

Martyn and Tony are playing golf at Ben Rhydding this evening. I don't want to go. Saw Spike Milligan on TV and Monty python repeats.

Mummy emerged from bed for a few hours but complained of constant pain. The doc has advised her to buy an orthopaedic bed at the earliest opportunity. Ate fish and chips and retired after 12.

-=-

Saturday April 30, 1977

Mama and the whole household are spring cleaning this morning and so I dress and escape with a pile of library books and Miss Rushworth's umbrella in the direction of Guiseley. Called at Bedside Manor and handed over the stolen umbrella to Bill Rushworth. He's a real weirdo. Grumpy and positively frightening. However, Mrs R. is extremely pleasant. Judith climbed out of bed and joined me in her lounge. She looked ghastly without the help of cosmetics and complained of a headache. I left after 10 minutes.

Lynn

To the library and got a further volume of Queen Victoria's correspondence with her eldest daughter (1871-78).

Had a record session all afternoon.Only Susan & Peter N are at home for me to annoy. Tony rang to say he wouldn't be at the Hare tonight because Linda doesn't like the idea. _________. I quite fancy Linda myself.

Martyn and Ruth, who are also a doomed relationship, are joining me at the Hare. Went down with Sue and Pete at 8.30. CB left shortly afterwards with a familiar, unnamed face, and Miss Dibb and fiance came in too. Chatted with Judith and Dave (working in the bar) and got along famously. The new manager seems like a decent enough bloke and when Lynn and Dave came in L approached him and got a bar job for Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday evening. Lynn actually behind the bar! David Andrew is far from happy with the idea. How snobby and petty can you get? The whole situation would be different if Mum and Dad had bought a free house pub. Oh yes, you're allowed to work in a bar if you own the bloody place, but being a common serving wench is a different bloody matter.

Peter and I went to the Chinese takeaway on Otley Rd and got some for Sue too. Played my BBC 50th anniversary LP which Peter hasn't heard before. Bed at 2am. Dad came in ten minutes later stoned out of his mind. They'd been to Flashman's with Charlie and Betty Davidson.

-=-

Friday April 15, 1977

Spring morning. Spring afternoon. Spring evening. I have yet to have a Spring night because it's only 7.30pm, but I suppose I will do.

Duchess of Gloucester

It was announced this morning that the Duchess of Gloucester is having a baby in November too. The PA report in the EP stated that the child, if male, would assume his father's second title, Baron Culloden. Balderdash. The barony of Culloden is a courtesy title to be borne by the eldest son of the Duke of Gloucester's eldest son, the Earl of Ulster. The baby will be either Lord or Lady (Christian name) Windsor. It took me about an hour to convince the subs desk that this was so. Evidently it was a Kensington Palace spokesman who announced the crap information. Two Royal babies in Jubilee year eh? I could say the year is going with a bang, but I won't bother.

Work until 5pm and find myself in a traffic jam on Kirkstall Road for thirty minutes. It was too hot and people were dropping like flies on the omnibus. Home at 6. Dad is doing his bit 'giving blood' in Guiseley. A hideous thought which brings to mind the likes of Count Dracula and that ghoulish lot. Surely, if we're given eight or ten pints of the stuff I think it must mean we need every drop for ourselves - selfish maybe but that sort of thing just isn't for me.

Later: yes, it was a Spring night. Went to the Hare with Sue & Peter expecting to get up to our usual activities but instead met up with Dave L and a group of his friends from deepest Gloucester. The four of us go to Woodhouse Moor fair and have a great time.It is revolting that David is no longer resident in these parts. It was just like old times on the waltzer, cyclone, the toffee apples, candy floss. Back to the Hare & Hounds at 10.30. Dave and friends left at 11 and Martyn and I waited for Tony to arrive. With Chris & Pete M the 3 of us go to Oakwood Hall. Not much doing at all. Completely uninteresting and dead. The place is full of unattractive prostitutes - but no, because most of the girls here are quite willing to do it for free. Home by 1.30. Everyone got on my nerves. The trip to Oakwood ruined the whole evening. Christ. Have I mentioned that Peter M is to be Andy Graham's best man? Dave L quipped that he is on the short list to be one of the ushers.

-==-

Tuesday March 29, 1977

No comment on the Budget. Better day than yesterday. No more snow, but still very cold.

J|udith: hates children.

Saw Judith in Guiseley at 5pm and walked her home. We're going to the Hare on Thursday night. I only hope Kathryn won't join us. She's a sweet old thing, but Judith must be sick and tired of her constant presence.

Judith says she hates and despises children and would never want any of her own. Weird. Children, in my opinion, are supreme. The only horrific aspect in having offspring must surely be watching them grow into moronic adults. I certainly feel moronic as I approach my 22nd birthday. My zest for life is ebbing. That vitality gone. I even have lines under my eyes. No grey hair though.

I must write to Dave L in Gloucester. I feel a bit guilty about what happened when we last met. We barely spoke a word to each other all weekend for some obscure reason.

Evening: Wrote to Stuart in 'Gay Paree'. Send him membership of our Silver Jubilee Lechery Club.

Hauxwell: ordinary 

See a programme about one Hannah Hauxwell, a perfectly ordinary Yorkshire woman who everyone is making a tremendous fuss of down in London, Lady Wilson included. Even the Duchess of Gloucester spoke about her.

Sit with Susan who is knitting a pink jumper for Peter. It takes all sorts to make a world, doesn't it?






-=-

Monday February 21, 1977

It's afternoon when I'm awakened by Susan. She's ridden with another cold. She's like a lobster and sneezing her head off. Mum comes in for lunch and we eat hurriedly because she wants to get back to the grindstone after half an hour or so.

Dad comes in at 3 and says a lunatic from Highroyds threw himself under a train in Guiseley this morning. How he can come home for a hearty lunch after picking up bits of leg, foot and thigh God only knows.

I went to Guiseley Library and got Evelyn Waugh's diaries which have only just been published. CB and I always laugh about Evelyn Waugh, for some reason, and I often sign letters to her 'from Evelyn Waugh's Dad'.

Brisk walk to John and Maria's. Baby is in bed which is disappointing because I wanted to give him some chocolate. Give Maria a run-down on the weekly events and the details of Saturday night's orgy. She enjoys tales of carnage and lewd goings on.

Dave Lawson.

Back home by 5.30. Sue says Dave L's been on the phone. I ring him. He's on half-term until Wednesday. He comes for me at 8.30 and I'm surprised when he suggests we go to the Commercial. He hates the place, but his excuse is that it won't be quite so busy in the week. It's great going out with David because it's brilliant and soothing to know I'm not the only skint guy in the British Isles. After a couple of drinks we go on to see John & Maria who, unbelievably, are tucked up in bed at 9.30pm. This really made David's night and he pulled Maria's leg. John is given the quest of finding David a buck rabbit before he returns to Gloucester on Wednesday. Good old Mr Lawson. Surely one of the greatest persons I have ever met. Won't be seeing him again until CB's party on March 11.



-==-

Sunday February 6, 1977

Septuagesima. The Silver Jubilee of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Second. Bells peal and prayers are said for the Sovereign lady in churches throughout the realm. To celebrate the joyous, historic event Mum, Dad, Sue, Peter N and myself  went for lunch to the Birch Inn at Wilsill, near Pateley Bridge. Four or five pints of lager and a sirloin. Peter had a steak too, Mum had fish, Susan a curry and Dad a ploughman's lunch.

Birch Tree Inn, Wilsill

At 2pm we returned homeward and called on John & Maria just in time for JPH's liquid liver lunch. A messy business. He is a beautiful child.

To the YP at 5.30 and have a nightmare of evening. Rang Lynne. She's at Pickering cinema with Karl and Peter. Rang her back at 10pm. She tells me of her weekend cake baking saga and the dog's latest illness, &c. Home feeling miserable.

Friday September 10, 1976

A wet and blustery day. Go into town at 1.30 and take my latest film into the chemist for developing. Very exciting.

See in the Daily Mail [and later in the EP] that Prince Charles and Davina Sheffield will probably marry next year - according to their friends. Who needs friends with people like that around? Or even who needs enemies with friends like that? [Keep trying the different friends angle and you'll eventually get it right, Michael.] Mum asks if Davina is 'suitable Queen material'. I say yes.

Go to the Hare with Lynne and Susan in Peter's car [Peter N's that is] after 8 o'clock and meet Christine White and a bearded Stuart, who come in to investigate Maria's forthcoming confinement. They leave shortly afterwards. Lynn and Dave come down with cousin Sam [Rhodes] who I haven't seen since 1970-71 or so. He is alright but somewhat withdrawn. Mum and Dad come in with Harry. Back home in pouring rain at 11.30 or so after seeing Carole and Naomi.

Give Lynne a pile of old copies of 'Private Eye' and a packet of tea for Mrs Mather as repayment for all the supplies I consumed last weekend. She goes off in a rainstorm at midnight for Thornton-le-Dale and the rest of us have a drink [a serious one]. Bed at 3.30am.... intoxicated.

-==-

Friday August 13, 1976

Friday the Thirteenth. Lynne comes up at 7.30. We take Sue & Peter to the Hare & Hounds - which is quiet and miserable - unusual for Friday. No sign of John and Maria, but Chris, Peter M and Martyn come in. At 9.30 Lynne decides to head off to Thornton-le-Dale and I bid her my fond farewells in the carpark. Move on to the 'Star' in Ilkley with Chris, Pete and Martyn and we all get more than just a bit pissed. End up at 'Upstairs, Downstairs' beneath the Stoney Lea until nearly 2 o'clock. Martyn talks about David, Lynn, Sue & Peter. He says he doesn't see any of these relationships lasting! I never doubt that one day Lynn will be Mrs Baker and Sue Mrs Nason. Martyn and I sit downstairs, while Pete & Chris go on the rampage upstairs. I sometimes worry about Peter. He chases after little girls who cannot be more than sixteen. If he ever gets caught it will make an interesting court case. Not seeing Lynne until Wednesday when we are going out with Chris and Janet.

Oh, by the way, I bought a camera today. £12.50 from Boots. I've wanted a decent one for quite a while and decided that the time had come to put it off no longer. Besides, a record of my nephew's childhood will need to be kept and that event can only be a couple of pay days away.

-==-

Wednesday July 21, 1976

Susan's birthday. Climb out of the pit at 7.30 and nip into Sue's room to congratulate her on reaching the grand old age of seventeen. In half an hour I must have said 'Happy Birthday' 48,000,000 times. Like me, she isn't ecstatic about this annual event and seems sickened off when I left at 8am, because Lynn, Mum & Dad added a further 3,000,000,000 'Happy Birthdays' to my sizeable number. Sue has a nice, dry sense of humour which isn't appreciated by many - only a few great humourists - of which I am one of the greatest - revel in her quiet quips and double meaning sentences.

At lunchtime Brian rings to say he's riddled with (gastro)entiritis and dare not risk coming in (to the office) tonight. I martyr myself and offer to work until 10pm. Eleven and a half hours at work! Actually, it wasn't all that bad but by the time I got home at 10.45pm I was on the verge of starvation. Have lamb and peas and Mum, Dad, Sue and Pete, Lynn and Dave come in from the pub as I'm eating. They bring me a lager and we all sit watching the revolting Olympic Games. I added a further 27,0000,000 birthday greetings to the list, and Susan eventually escsaped to the sanctity of her bedroom - unable to tolerate any more.

The British Ambassador to Dublin was assassinated by the IRA this morning. I expect the Conservative party to suggest that Sir Harold Wilson takes up the appointment - just the sort of job for a retired Labour prime minister - amongst the rolling hills and landmines of Eire.

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