Several of the morning newspapers contain stories of a romance between Princess Anne and Mark Phillips. The Sun says they're engaged. Mum says he's a good looking chap and hopes they're in love. I'd prefer HRH to marry some titled chap. We can't have the daughter of the Queen going round calling herself Mrs Phillips. Princess Margaret married a Mr Jones - but HM soon put a stop to that (i.e. Lord Snowdon).
1st day back at school since Dec 19, 1972. Dave, Denise and Chris and I are all going to somebodys party at Dunkeswick. I don't know the girl throwing the party and have never heard of Dunkeswick - supposedly a village near Bramhope or Otley.
We arrived at about 9.30. The venue was a tiny cottage. Excuse me if the writing is horrible but it's now 12.30 and I'm awfully drunk. Several wealthy girls were there, including someone called Debbie, daughter of a millionaire. I drank almost a full bottle of whisky - which accounts for the deterioration of the handwriting. I am in love with Denise.
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The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
20090308
Tuesday January 2, 1973
I awoke at 12 lunchtime. It's Mum and Dad's birthday today. They're 38 and 39 respectively. We haven't bought them a present yet. Lynn is hiding the money somewhere - and besides - it's half day closing down in Guiseley. In the afternoon I went to Bradford Library and took out a book on the Spanish Civil War 1936-39. Arrived home on the 6 o'clock bus. Rushed up the lane to find the family sitting around in their splendour waiting to go for tea to Harry Ramsden's. I've lived on Harry's doorstep for 5 years and this is my first visit. Dad says people come from Australia simply to eat "one of each" and a carton of mushy peas. It's hardly worth the journey I can assure you. In the evening (7.45-10.45) I did my history essay entitled: "Why did Germany and Italy involve themselves in the Spanish Civil War and what were the consequences of this war". Mum and Dad went up to the Albert at Yeadon for a drink - coming home at 10.45. I had supper and retired to bed at midnight. Back to school tomorrow - History, economics and current affairs all in quick succession - yuk. Mum and Dad are playing romantic love songs downstairs. They've had a happy birthday.
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Monday January 1, 1973
The bells of St Oswald's Church, Guiseley announced the New Year. I was standing outside Pine Tops - alone on the drive - as 1973 came in. John, Denise, Dave and Chris were inside. I could hear the Smiths next door singing "auld langs ayne". Mum and Dad returned at 12.45 with a party of friends. Sue and Alison came along afterwards. The party went on until 6.30am. John was sick and retired to bed at 3.30, and Denise and I ruined the party for Chris R by telling him that he resembled somebody off an Oxfam poster - he failed to see the funny side and took off home at 2.30. Lynn and Jackie came much later. Dave B fancies Lynn. Dad left for work at 6.30am when Sgt. Bill Stott collected Dave and him in the cop car. Denise and I slept downstairs and saw John off to work at 7.30. Mum followed to work at 9, cursing the fact that people have to work on New Year's Day. I slept from 12.30 to 1.40. I had been drinking whisky.
Auntie Eleanor and Uncle Jack and Stephen (who was as black as the ace of spades) arrived at 7.30pm and stayed until 11.40.
My first day as a European citizen. Britain has signed away a thousand years of splendid isolation to join the 250,000,000 Frogs, libidious Italians, etc. I suppose they'll sell the Queen to the French one day. I doubt whether Her Majesty is in favour of the Common Market. After all, it'll mean the end of the Commonwealth. I'm going to bed. It's 12.02.
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Auntie Eleanor and Uncle Jack and Stephen (who was as black as the ace of spades) arrived at 7.30pm and stayed until 11.40.
My first day as a European citizen. Britain has signed away a thousand years of splendid isolation to join the 250,000,000 Frogs, libidious Italians, etc. I suppose they'll sell the Queen to the French one day. I doubt whether Her Majesty is in favour of the Common Market. After all, it'll mean the end of the Commonwealth. I'm going to bed. It's 12.02.
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Birth of Mig's Journal
On January 1 1973 I was a 17 year-old living at Pine Tops, 58 Hawksworth Lane, Guiseley. I was a pupil in the 6th form at Benton Park Grammar School, Rawdon. At home I lived with my parents, Lawrence (born in 1934) a police constable based at Guiseley police station; mother Nora (born 1935) who worked as a secretary at Barnes & Winder (trailers?) at White Cross, Guiseley. My siblings are John (born 1956), an apprentice joiner from 1971 with Slater & Padgett, of Yeadon; and 2 sisters, Lynn (born 1958), a schoolgirl; and Susan (born 1959) a schoolgirl.
In 1973 I was , apparently, obsessed with June Bottomley and the 23 year-old Princess Anne and was somewhat over zealous with my usage of the exclamation mark.
Some of the characters appearing in my 1973 journal:
Uncle Harry (1922-94) my father's eccentric brother. Policeman and heavy drinker.
Toffer Riley, aka Christopher Riley, owner of the Chuck Wagon, Guiseley restaurant. Bearded, long hair.
Sue Riley (born 1950) Toffer's wife
Dave Lawson (born 1955) schoolfriend since 1967 who moved to Benton Park with me from Guiseley Secondary School in 1971. Later teacher and market garden proprietor.
Some schoolfriends: Christopher Ratcliffe (born 1955); Christine Braithwaite (born 1956); Louise Harris; Denise Akroyd (born 1956); June Margaret Bottlomley (born 1956); Graham Cowburn (known as Cowie); etc.
This journal begins on January 1, 1973. It was born during a country in crisis. The Heath government was on its last legs. The "Three Day Week" reigned. TV closed down in the evening. The nation was on strike. Power cuts, &c. The idea of writing a diary in a Pepys-like setting next to a burning candle inspired me to take up my pen. I compiled my diary in a page-a-day WH Smith diary. It runs from Jan 1 1973 to somewhere in 1991 and consists of millions of words. Would it be a good idea to publish, in an abridged form to protect the dead, my banal outpourings? Yes. So here goes
Some of the characters appearing in my 1973 journal:
Uncle Harry (1922-94) my father's eccentric brother. Policeman and heavy drinker.
Toffer Riley, aka Christopher Riley, owner of the Chuck Wagon, Guiseley restaurant. Bearded, long hair.
Sue Riley (born 1950) Toffer's wife
Dave Lawson (born 1955) schoolfriend since 1967 who moved to Benton Park with me from Guiseley Secondary School in 1971. Later teacher and market garden proprietor.
Some schoolfriends: Christopher Ratcliffe (born 1955); Christine Braithwaite (born 1956); Louise Harris; Denise Akroyd (born 1956); June Margaret Bottlomley (born 1956); Graham Cowburn (known as Cowie); etc.
This journal begins on January 1, 1973. It was born during a country in crisis. The Heath government was on its last legs. The "Three Day Week" reigned. TV closed down in the evening. The nation was on strike. Power cuts, &c. The idea of writing a diary in a Pepys-like setting next to a burning candle inspired me to take up my pen. I compiled my diary in a page-a-day WH Smith diary. It runs from Jan 1 1973 to somewhere in 1991 and consists of millions of words. Would it be a good idea to publish, in an abridged form to protect the dead, my banal outpourings? Yes. So here goes
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