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.

-=-

Friday February 10, 1978

Mike Holman's party at the Wellesley. Sarah, John MacM and I went from the YP at 6, but first I must say something about the catastrophic day.

At breakfast I decided to go by train to the vast metropolis that is Leeds. On the train I discovered, with horror, that my jeans had split open and that I was revealing all and everything to the Ilkley/Leeds inter city travellers. The woman in the seat opposite me certainly got her 37p worth. It was a good thing I had an old pair of pants at the office to change into. My arrival at the YP was received with some hilarity. Kathleen's eyes shone with delight at my predicament.

Finding my pre-war trousers incompatible with the 1978 way of life I went at lunchtime to Schofield's where I purchased a new zip fastener, a needle and cotton. Sarah did the seamstress bit after Kathleen's departure and by 5:30 I was once again clad in my faithful jeans. Good old Sarah.

Anyway, back to Mike Holman's party. The first two or three hours were somewhat dull. The booze flowed like the Danube, River Trent and Lake Windermere merged into one. Sarah and John Mac were soon pink and giggly on gin and we endured Edna Mason's dramatic entry which would have brought colour to Shakespeare's cheeks. However, things cheered up with the arrival of Tom Greenwell's assistant leader writer who is insane. He had us rolling uncontrollably in heaps on the floor. All the man could talk about was the Republic of Upper Volta and rabbit breeding.

Ursula, Wendy and others poured in and of course John Cameron, who said I'd make a nice lad once I reach puberty. Very amusing is Mr Cameron. At some unearthly hour we returned to the YP and drank in the editor's office from crates of warm, bottled beer. The little men from the Wire Room were amusing and told me things about Edna Mason that cannot appear here. Chris Oakley made a good speech for Mike and we consumed more beer before Wendy grabbed me and brought me home to Guiseley. It must have been 2:00am.

-=-

Thursday February 9, 1978

Letter from David L suggesting May 19 as a possible date for our raid on Nailsworth. I write to Helen and Graham suggesting this to them. If nothing else, it will give them time to prepare for the ghastly, drunken onslaught.

John Grady phoned at 3 (I'm on half day at home). It was good to hear from him. He suggests I go to Rawtenstall possibly the Monday after next with Chris who is going to Lancashire to visit John and Co and pay a long over due visit to his grandparents. I'll phone Chris tonight and see what he has to say. It's been great hearing from friends.

Christine phoned yesterday afternoon ~ just to make polite conversation. I think that our 'chat' at Naomi's rekindled a good deal of the old flame that burned between us. (Blimey!) But I think Christine and I will always be like one fun loving infused brain. I must write. (Yes, you've guessed that I'm entering this year's journal for the Nobel Prize for Literature). It's only just gone tea time and I've a lot to do yet so can you wait around until later this evening for me to continue? ...................

Lynn.

...............I don't think I should have bothered saving any space for later because tonight just faded out with no spectacular scenes of any kind. All I did was watch TV and read 'El Dorado' by Baroness Orczy. Retired to bed abominably late again because after 'Top of the Pops' Lynn and I retired to the dining room with a bottle of Liebfraumilch to look at photo albums and listen to records. It was so pleasant. Just think, it might be one of the last evenings of this kind. When she's married and raising red faced Bakers in Burley in Wharfedale she'll have no time to sit and think of old times with big brother. Isn't it sad? We have only just escaped from childhood and now she's going off into the big, wide world.

-=-

Wednesday February 8, 1978

First Day in Lent. Ash Wednesday.

I am giving up spending money for Lent. Yes, I intend saving over £100. OK, you don't believe me but I'm going to show you just what willpower I do have.

Lady Jane Spencer.

Quite an ordinary sort of day. In 'The Times' engagements section I see that Lady Sarah Spencer's sister, Lady Jane, is to marry Robert Fellowes, assistant private secretary to the Queen. I passed this info on to Fred, who will do something for the YP 'People' column tomorrow. I bet Nigel Dempster and William Hickey will do something on this tomorrow. Is Lady Sarah going to take the plunge with HRH and make it a double event? This will be the theme.

Feel buggered and slightly dead. Because of this I have changed from red ink to this suitably sombre black. At home this evening I couldn't be bothered to do a single thing. Was tempted by an Alfred Hitchcock film on the BBC, but dozed in the chair like an octogenarian whilst the bulk of the murders were being carried out.

I have received a Valentine's card from WPC Carolle Jones. Yeah, a week early too. I quiver when I think of the recent night we spent in Burley in Wharfedale after Naomi's party. I like WPC Jones very much. She arouses in me some neolithic feelings that lay dormant when she is away back on the beat. Cor, I've never been out with a policewoman before. Penelope Keith's gone a step further and married a detective constable.


-=-

Tuesday February 7, 1978

New Moon 14:54.  Shrove Tuesday.

Duke of Clarence.

Frantic day at the YP. Had an interesting conversation with the cartoonist 'Speed' about Jack the Ripper. He says that the Freemasons did away with the prostitutes to cover up the fact that the Duke of Clarence had married a prostitute - and a Roman Catholic one at that - and that a child had been born of the union. He went on to say that the baby, a daughter, grew up to be the image of her grandmother Queen Alexandra, and like HM was as deaf as a post too.  Very interesting and quite laughable.  I do like old 'Speed'. His theories on many topics are never without large loopholes and are always open to comment.

Jack the Ripper.

'News at Ten' were filming in the office today for something in connection with the activities of the current (Yorkshire) Ripper. One of the victims wrote to Malcolm Barker three and a half years ago complaining about the conditions of foster children in Leeds and now she's on a mortuary slab. Fame for the EP once again.

News: Builders have unearthed Kign Henry VIII's palace of Bridewell in Fleet Street; Lady Sarah Spencer's first christian name happens to be Elizabeth; its's Shrove Tuesday and I had six or seven pancakes for tea. More details later.

News from YTV. Yes, they've rejected my application. I am unaffected by it and suffer no damage to my ego. The loss is purely YTVs.


-=-

Monday February 6, 1978

Accession of Queen Elizabeth II

National Day (New Zealand)

Slings it down with rain all day.Horribly damp. At lunch time I went into town and spent £25 on a pair of boots. First I cashed a cheque for £100 and for the first time in many months I felt like Stavros Niarchos.

I attempted to phone Jacqui but her line was constantly engaged. Ah well, never mind. Work was really dead.

Mrs J is _______________.

Just watched TV tonight. That was after splashing around in the bath and 're assembling' my bedroom from the devastation of 'Our David' at the weekend. The delightful Hilda Ogden on Coronation Street, and a blood thirsty film of the 'Wild West' were the only items of interest. Could not be bothered watching any of the current affairs programs and I ignored the 9 o'clock news. I've had enough of Dr (David) Owen and the affair of the poisoned Jaffas &c.

Retired to bed at 12:00 with Baroness Orczy. Blimey, Silver Jubilee Year ended officially today. Her Majesty's been on the throne for 26 years. God Bless Her! Meanwhile: on the slopes of an Austrian mountain the Prince of Wales is paying court to Lady Sarah Spencer, 22 year-old daughter of Earl Spencer. I'd better leave it at this because my comments will only destroy my reputation as the world's leading authority on royal affairs.

-=-