Friday September 28, 1979

_. Thoroughly exhausted and dead to the world all day. Jim passed me furtive glances on our journey to Leeds. I think he suspects I have an alcohol problem.

Sarah is away again. These attacks of illness are becoming far too frequent. She's become so dull since taking up with Richard Burke.

Ally came over at 8 and after stocking up with a couple of bottles from the off-license we settled down and watched Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway in 'Bonnie and Clyde'. It's a good film and I've seen it on numerous occasions. The conversation is horribly crude when we get together with Sue & Pete. They can be quite foul. It's only Ally who clings on to her decency.

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Thursday September 27, 1979

_. Phoned Ally when I arrived home from work at 5:30. She called me 'a miserable boy'. Most incorrect. I just laughed it off and took a long bath. I then grilled six fish fingers and drizzled them with prawn cocktail sauce and put Blondie on the record player. Ally arrived whilst Debbie Harry was in full throttle.

Off we went to Lynn and Dave's. L was dressed to kill. Dave looked dull and washed out. I said: "Oh it's going to one of those sort of nights". On to the Rose & Crown, then Oakwood Hall. Dave refused to dance and stood in a glum posture looking down his nose at 'the youngsters'. Ally remarked that it must be married life taking effect, but you know how cynical she is about that Holy estate. Lynne and Dave left before us.

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Wednesday September 26, 1979

_. Pisses down all day. Autumn is upon us. Sod it. Ally and I went to the cinema at Yeadon this evening. Our very first visit to such a place of entertainment. Saw 'Blazing Saddles' and Monty Python's 'Holy Grail'. I have seen the Monty Python epic three times now. My first viewing was with the late Gillian Upton in 1975. The Mel Brooks comedy is excellent but not half as good as 'High Anxiety'. Home in the rain at 10:30. Ally tells me we are going out with Lynn & Dave tomorrow.

We had our first squabble.

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Tuesday September 25, 1979

_. John's 23rd birthday. Sat by the record player all day listening to my favourite tunes. Ally, Sue and Peter dropped in for lunch and I made the bacon sandwiches. God, it was good to see a few faces. It's no wonder that so many housewives turn to the bottle. Solitary confinement in the home must surely drive them over the top. Housework must only take a couple of hours. What do they do after that? Poor buggers. The nauseating DJs on Radio One don't help either.

To the YP at 5 and spent the evening with Gilberto - our man from Chile. No news. Everything quite dead. Home by taxi at 12. The driver had little to say. I thought we might become airborne as he had his foot flat down on the accelerator.

Ate like a horse and took up Adolf Hitler.

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Monday September 24, 1979

_. Mum and Dad went off to Stranraer this morning to spend a few days with John. I'm pleased. It isn't right that the boy should spend his birthday alone.

Mum & Dad's departure heralded Peter's arrival here, and he moved in with luggage, squash rackets, and other miscellaneous items required for staying over with the girlfriend. It's wonderfully cheeky. They both took over the master bedroom and therein behaved disgracefully. _______.

Saw a gruesome Burt Lancaster film on the BBC and then saw Joan Collins interviewed on 'Film '79'. Barry Norman pulled her to pieces. 'The Bitch' is a film I will avoid, I think.

To bed with Adolf Hitler.

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Sunday September 23, 1979

15th Sunday after Trinity

Slept like a log and regained consciousness at about 10am on the sitting room floor at the Hollywood.

It's Lily's birthday today. Joined at lunchtime by Garry, Billy, Steve and Co. Billy was dull. We had lunch after 2 with Lily, Jim, Grandad Glynn and Dave. ______.

We took our leave. Dave is coming to Ally's on October 20. Something is wrong with the Spitfire. The ignition light shone bright and clear throughout the journey home.

At Pine Tops Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony are being entertained to supper.

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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.

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