20090606

Thursday March 14, 1974

Blank.

Wednesday March 13, 1974

Blank.

Tuesday March 12, 1974

The Queen opened Parliament today in a most unusual way. No robes, crowns or regalia of any sort. Not even the coach and horses. It's the first time since the war that the opening has taken place without pomp. Her Majesty wore the same outfit which she bedecked herself in at the Royal Wedding in November. Crowds on the Mall. No doubt Mr Wilson wanted a very quiet affair - most odd to say the least. Anyway, the infernal government were unable to do everything they promised in the manifesto___.All that nationalistation is out as well - phew!

We almost have no private companies left, and we all know how state owned companies manage, don't we? Precisely, they don't manage at all.


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Monday March 11, 1974

I apologise for the erratic flow and the gaps in my entries but I don't feel like writing anything.

Sunday March 10, 1974

2nd in Lent. Edward VII married Alexandra, 1863. Prince Edward born 1964. Wake up at 8.20 on the sofa in the dining quarters of a strange house. The mother of my host thrusts a weak, milky coffee onto my lap and laughs at my apparent lack of awareness of time, place, month or year. Vic piles me into a car and at 8.45 and I am standing in the bleak bus station at Ilkley. One of Andy's pals joins me on a 63 and I stagger home to be in time for breakfast. Mum thinks I am mad and Dad simply laughs at my obvious vitality.


'Jealous Mind' Alvin Stardust.

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Saturday March 9, 1974

A wild party this evening in Burley-in-Wharfedale. One of Andy's acquaintances, Vic, celebrated a birthday or something, and I stayed all night. John, Chris, Andy and Pete went to the Cow and Calf and then went home. I was intolerably drunk, the first time since Christmas, and made many friends, all trying to find a cure for my hiccoughs which ruined the evening (if that is what you can call 3am). The last thing I can remember was collapsing onto a sofa at about 3.30. Vic's mother is a nurse, with a great sense of humour, and when I regained consciousness at 8.20am on March 10 I imagined for a fleeting moment that I was in hospital due to the fact that the dear was still in her uniform, with black tights as well!

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Friday March 8, 1974

Death of William III, 1702. Birth of Mabel Wilson, 1919.

Go sod orf, matey!

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Thursday March 7, 1974

PEOPLE I DO NOT LIKE VERY MUCH IN PUBLIC LIFE:-

1. The Right Honourable James Harold Wilson, MP.

2. Max Bygraves.

3. Her Royal Highness The Duchess of Kent.

4. All Labour MPs.

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Wednesday March 6, 1974

Lynn's birthday. John gave her £2, and so did I. Susan made a contribution, but obviously she couldn't give as much as we did. No large family celebration will take place, and instead she's taking a party out to dinner this evening. Martyn, Alison, Christine Dibb, Peter and Susan all to the CW. No doubt they'll all get merry - if Toffer has anything to do with it.

I go to bed unusually early, and when Lynn comes in after 12 she reeks of pernod - but is not intoxicated. Grief, I cannot understand why she enjoys birthdays so much - personally I cannot pretend to become over enthusiastic with my annual anniversary, but I suppose the female angle on birthdays makes them more enjoyable.

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Tuesday March 5, 1974

Diaries are such silly things really. A diary is the place where a diarist can release all his inhibitions, torrents of criticisms and fears. Strangely enough, my diary is neither interesting or amusing. I don't pull people to pieces or secretly idolise some poor acquaintance...


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Monday March 4, 1974

A very historic day today. Take breakfast at 7.30, and the radio is disapointing again, giving nothing away on the present Constitutional crisis. All they can say is that Jeremy Thorpe holds the balance of power and the result of the Liberal/Tory negotiations will be announced today. Nothing is announced in any editions of the EP, but at 6.30 the result is announced on 'Nationwide'. Poor Mr Heath, having failed to unite with the Liberals, handed his resignation to the Queen. The scene outside No, 10 was stunning. Thousands of people shouting. Women weeping. Photographers waiting for the kill like half-starved vultures. Poor Mr Heath had to face them all at 6.30. At about 8 it was announced that Her Majesty had asked Mr Wilson to form a Labour government, which he accepted. So, within the space of 90 minutes Mr Heath was gone, and Harold and Mary were braving the Press and photographers on the steps of No 10. However, I must stress the point that the Labour Government is not like the one which took office in '64 - with the slightest opposition they can be defeated in the Commons and yet another General Election will be thrust upon our poor countrymen.

Dad sits smugly in his chair saying he knew all along that Harold would get back into office. Poor Ted is no doubt quite doomed to extinction now. I cannot really see him being returned to No, 10 ever again - poor old slob - he must feel a bit. I stagger to bed sobbing my heart out (not) - a Labour Government - ugh!

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Tuesday January 22, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn Cold and quiet. Dave Glynn phoned tonight but Ally and I were in the cellar, and when we phoned back Lily said that David has...