I didn't think about kipping down until almost 3.0am. The sight of Dad going to work at 6am was most unusual. Dave and me lay in the dark talking all night. I can't have dropped off until about 6.30.
I was furious at Wikis last night. Maura, whom God Preserve, was chatting with Denny and I, when Dave Knowles, her former fiance, called her over. Naturally she went over for a chat, only to be kicked in the stomach. Poor Maura pretended not to be injured, but went straight home.
All Denny could say over and over was 'the bastard, the bastard', referring to her former associate, Adrian. Poor Dave's gear box fell off yesterday and the clutch is far from well. He bought the car in good faith from Adrian a couple of months ago. Naturally, Denny feels guilty and responsible because when Dave quizzed her about the state of the car she replied: 'Oh it's great'.
Whilst reading her paper this morning Mama saw an advert relating to a job in the designing department at Greenwoods in Guiseley. She gets me to put a letter together and it's posted forthwith. Await further details with anticipation.
A drunken occasion this evening. The gang met at the Hare & Hounds as usual, but at 10 o'clock Andy suggests a pub crawl around Addingham. I immediately agree, and we all depart. After an hours solid lager swilling session I am sick in the car park of one of the pubs, then it's back to Naomi's to see a lousy 1945 film. John was sick too.
Oh, Uncle Peter and Co. came today. Forgot about it.
-==-
20100318
Friday March 21, 1975
Lounge in bed until the glorious hour of 10.30. Shear, unadulterated luxury. Bliss indeed. However, it isn't all idleness today. It's work at 5pm - so don't think for one single minute that laziness reigns here at Pine Tops. The first day of Spring - I certainly would not have realised this on my own initiative. Mum conveyed this news to me whilst I hung longingly over my chicken soup and pork cutlets. In fact, it looks about as much like Spring as I look like the Aga Khan. Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, I haven't been all that lazy this morning. I ironed two pairs of trousers and listened to endless LPs and chatted to Miss Braithwaite via the telephone. So all in all I've done a decent days work.
Mess about with P.G Wodehouse and 'The Luck of the Bodkins' after lunch and prepare in general for my visit to the YP. Luckily, it's not going to be a miserable homecoming at 12. I'm meeting Denny outside Wikis at 12.15.
Quite a busy evening. I did manage to snatch a whisky in the Wellesley with Kathleen and Peter Chapman. Nothing startling in the news, and attempt to leave at 12 o'clock. The rain is pounding outside and my taxi is 25 minutes bloody late. I end up sharing one with a female reporter. Arrived at Wikis at some unearthly hour. Denny, thank God, had the sense to go straight in. Uneventful night. Helen is with Graham Pease. John brings Denny and me home - she intends staying the night. Discover Dave on the camp bed - the poor sod came off his brother's bike on the way over - so I camped down on the sofa, and Denny gets my bed.
-==-
Mess about with P.G Wodehouse and 'The Luck of the Bodkins' after lunch and prepare in general for my visit to the YP. Luckily, it's not going to be a miserable homecoming at 12. I'm meeting Denny outside Wikis at 12.15.
Quite a busy evening. I did manage to snatch a whisky in the Wellesley with Kathleen and Peter Chapman. Nothing startling in the news, and attempt to leave at 12 o'clock. The rain is pounding outside and my taxi is 25 minutes bloody late. I end up sharing one with a female reporter. Arrived at Wikis at some unearthly hour. Denny, thank God, had the sense to go straight in. Uneventful night. Helen is with Graham Pease. John brings Denny and me home - she intends staying the night. Discover Dave on the camp bed - the poor sod came off his brother's bike on the way over - so I camped down on the sofa, and Denny gets my bed.
-==-
Thursday March 20, 1975
A good day really. Frantic in the morning but at least it all passed quickly. Pay day yet again, and it coincides quite conveniently with my Barclaycard repayments. £13 they want this time.
Home on the 4.30 bus where I bump into Martin Vere-Bujnowski, who is at Nottingham Polytechnic. Haven't seen him since Christmas, and apparently he's remained faithful to the Emmotts after all these years, and I suppose he's forgotten that other places of public refreshment exist.
'Private Eye' is funny this week with some good tales of the wedding of Lord and Lady Lichfield. The Queen is always referred to as 'Brenda' which is potty really. The Duke of Edinburgh is 'Keith'. Say no more.
Home to hear from Lynn that Mum won £50 on the Premium Bonds today. Bloody marvellous it really is, and about two years to the day since she last won £50. God only knows what she'll do with it all. Probably invest it. She keeps saying it will not affect her lifestyle in any way, and she doesn't intend buying a mink coat or Rolls-Royce. It's back to work tomorrow at her £30 a week office job - no life of luxury for her. No indeed.
The 17th birthday of Mr Peter Nason. Sue, Pete, Lynn and Dave are trotting off for a meal somewhere, and it certainly looks like a champagne all round occasion. I never did anything like this when I was his age. A sign of the times.
Mum had a letter from Ruby and Arthur today. They say they had a letter from Uncle Tony the other week who told them they don't see us anymore due to a squabble over a 'holiday'. A load of balderdash.
After the others had gone to dine Mum and Papa took John and I to the Commercial where we had a few celebratory drinks. Home at 11 for a sherry session with Pete, Sue, Lynn and Dave. Bed at about 12.30.
-==-
Home on the 4.30 bus where I bump into Martin Vere-Bujnowski, who is at Nottingham Polytechnic. Haven't seen him since Christmas, and apparently he's remained faithful to the Emmotts after all these years, and I suppose he's forgotten that other places of public refreshment exist.
'Private Eye' is funny this week with some good tales of the wedding of Lord and Lady Lichfield. The Queen is always referred to as 'Brenda' which is potty really. The Duke of Edinburgh is 'Keith'. Say no more.
Home to hear from Lynn that Mum won £50 on the Premium Bonds today. Bloody marvellous it really is, and about two years to the day since she last won £50. God only knows what she'll do with it all. Probably invest it. She keeps saying it will not affect her lifestyle in any way, and she doesn't intend buying a mink coat or Rolls-Royce. It's back to work tomorrow at her £30 a week office job - no life of luxury for her. No indeed.
The 17th birthday of Mr Peter Nason. Sue, Pete, Lynn and Dave are trotting off for a meal somewhere, and it certainly looks like a champagne all round occasion. I never did anything like this when I was his age. A sign of the times.
Mum had a letter from Ruby and Arthur today. They say they had a letter from Uncle Tony the other week who told them they don't see us anymore due to a squabble over a 'holiday'. A load of balderdash.
After the others had gone to dine Mum and Papa took John and I to the Commercial where we had a few celebratory drinks. Home at 11 for a sherry session with Pete, Sue, Lynn and Dave. Bed at about 12.30.
-==-
Wednesday March 19, 1975
Hectic day really. Kathleen and I are rushed off our feet, but we plod on regardless. After lunch, Janice, the high and mighty Mrs Beaumont, pays us a visit in the company of her daughter, a pretty little thing aged fourteen weeks. She stays for the bigger part of the afternoon. so no work got done at all really. You know how funny women are with chubby little blue-eyed nippers - all hysterics and 'Goo Goo, Gaa Gaa' &c.
Arrive home at 5.30 feeling rather knackered. All week I've been saying 'Michael, you're not going out until Friday - so don't you dare try', &c. However, Maurice is off work, so I'm doing a 5pm-12 stint, which means I won't be going out on Friday either, unless I go straight to Wikis. So Wednesday night looks very much like a pub night to me.
I feel lately as though I want to break from routine and do something completely different and wildly interesting. Painting perhaps, or even a bit of writing, but the former seems the most likely at present. Yes, from next week on, a new Mig Rhodes will emerge in these pages. The creative Mig. The out-door type of Mig. No, I haven't gone mad. It's the Spring in the air, I think.
-==-
Arrive home at 5.30 feeling rather knackered. All week I've been saying 'Michael, you're not going out until Friday - so don't you dare try', &c. However, Maurice is off work, so I'm doing a 5pm-12 stint, which means I won't be going out on Friday either, unless I go straight to Wikis. So Wednesday night looks very much like a pub night to me.
I feel lately as though I want to break from routine and do something completely different and wildly interesting. Painting perhaps, or even a bit of writing, but the former seems the most likely at present. Yes, from next week on, a new Mig Rhodes will emerge in these pages. The creative Mig. The out-door type of Mig. No, I haven't gone mad. It's the Spring in the air, I think.
-==-
Tuesday March 18, 1975
Quite a day of excitement really. That treasured relic of the Parliamentary system, namely Uncle Harold, announced today that the Labour government is in favour of our nation remaining a member of the Common Market. I can't really see why he made such a fuss about it in the first place. The one good thing which the late Mr Heath did was to obtain our membership of the E.E.C. and at the time I thought it was most childish of Uncle Harold to say he'd bring us out. Anyway, the so-called referendum will decide categorically what we're going to do - but if both Conservative and Labour parties think we should stay in, I fail to grasp why we have been consulted at all. I'm intending ignoring the referendum when it comes. Futile things like this should be of no concern to the general public at all. It's a bloody disgrace really.
Snowed again today. Weird weather. Went for a jog around Leeds at lunchtime. Consumed a couple of sandwiches in Park Square and made several useless attempts to lay hands on a copy of 'Private Eye'.
The editor ran around the library in a flap this morning shouting 'Sheila Viscountess Devonport' in a hurried voice at irregular intervals. No news cuttings were to be found on the dear, noble lady, but I did lay hands on a photo, dated 1952. 'Devonport. Sheila Viscountess D-E-V-O-N-P-O-R-T. Lady S-H-E-I-L-A Devonport. She's a viscountess. A peeress. L-A-D-Y S-H-E-I-L-A-D-E-V-O-N-P-O-R-T'. OK, we get the message. We enquire exactly what's happened to the peeress to cause such a panic. He says she's been kidnapped by the Black Panther, and leaves the library laughing hideously. Clearly not a devotee of the aristocracy. We later discover that she's only been forced out of her home in the early hours of the morning, and that no harm has befallen her at all. No doubt you're overjoyed on hearing this.
The Duchess of Kent was in Leeds today on university business.
See a Cary Grant and Doris Day film on BBC2 and stagger to bed at about 11 with P.G. Wodehouse, after listening to Uncle Harold talking a load of old rubbish on the late night news. It's really terrible the way he's trying to hoodwink everyone over this referendum nonsense.
-==-
Snowed again today. Weird weather. Went for a jog around Leeds at lunchtime. Consumed a couple of sandwiches in Park Square and made several useless attempts to lay hands on a copy of 'Private Eye'.
The editor ran around the library in a flap this morning shouting 'Sheila Viscountess Devonport' in a hurried voice at irregular intervals. No news cuttings were to be found on the dear, noble lady, but I did lay hands on a photo, dated 1952. 'Devonport. Sheila Viscountess D-E-V-O-N-P-O-R-T. Lady S-H-E-I-L-A Devonport. She's a viscountess. A peeress. L-A-D-Y S-H-E-I-L-A-D-E-V-O-N-P-O-R-T'. OK, we get the message. We enquire exactly what's happened to the peeress to cause such a panic. He says she's been kidnapped by the Black Panther, and leaves the library laughing hideously. Clearly not a devotee of the aristocracy. We later discover that she's only been forced out of her home in the early hours of the morning, and that no harm has befallen her at all. No doubt you're overjoyed on hearing this.
The Duchess of Kent was in Leeds today on university business.
See a Cary Grant and Doris Day film on BBC2 and stagger to bed at about 11 with P.G. Wodehouse, after listening to Uncle Harold talking a load of old rubbish on the late night news. It's really terrible the way he's trying to hoodwink everyone over this referendum nonsense.
-==-
Monday March 17, 1975
St Patrick's Day. Snowed today. Bloody weather. The Yorkshire Post today carries an article of some hilarity. Namely, the gathering at Ampleforth Abbey of a merry band of gents - the Knights of the Order of St John of Jerusalem. You're thinking that nothing amusing could possibly be drawn from this article, aren't you? Well, you're very wrong indeed. Oh, indeed, yes. Because staring up from the picture around which the story is based, is the very familiar face of our old pal, Chris Monckton, a knight of the venerable order. Along with his dad, Major-General Viscount Monckton of Brenchley, and 48 million other upper class religious freaks, he is partaking of 'three days of prayer and meditation in preparation for Easter'. I'm not going to say any more on the subject. Instead I'll just titter away to myself.
In keeping with the traditional Monday evening see the tv. Then sit around in bed with 'The Luck of the Bodkins' by P.G. Wodehouse, which I obtained from the library on Thursday or Friday. Can't quite remember which day it was.
-==-
In keeping with the traditional Monday evening see the tv. Then sit around in bed with 'The Luck of the Bodkins' by P.G. Wodehouse, which I obtained from the library on Thursday or Friday. Can't quite remember which day it was.
-==-
Sunday March 16, 1975
Passion Sunday. CB's Birthday. Christmas is a few months early this year. Yes, you've guessed right. It snowed this morning and it's so bloody cold all over it's almost like Arctic conditions, where Capt Scott came a cropper. What a crazy mixed up nation of ours this is.
Do sod all today, and sit in front of the television all night. Laurence Olivier in 'Khartoum'. A good film, and I refuse to be lured to the Hare & Hounds with all the others. It's a nice feeling to be able to prove that alcoholism isn't my leading defect as yet, but I do suppose the coming years will give a more clear analysis.
John comes back with Naomi at about 11 o'clock and I can hear the wedding bells quite clearly this time. I know I've said it before - Christine White, Carol Smith, and Jackie Onassis, but this time it's all quite different. The feeling in my bones is definately conveying the impression this time. We are still unaware as to what denomination the Reverend Mr Downing belongs - and I must admit, the situation is perplexing. He's not C of E, so he's either Mormon, Methodist, Primative Methodist, Baptist, Budhist, Druid or Zionist. I doubt very much whether the chap is a Cardinal - not with an 18 year-old daughter. Methodist too seems unlikely, because they are opposed to drink and little Naomi is propping up the bar of the Hare & Hounds seven nights a week.
-==-
Do sod all today, and sit in front of the television all night. Laurence Olivier in 'Khartoum'. A good film, and I refuse to be lured to the Hare & Hounds with all the others. It's a nice feeling to be able to prove that alcoholism isn't my leading defect as yet, but I do suppose the coming years will give a more clear analysis.
John comes back with Naomi at about 11 o'clock and I can hear the wedding bells quite clearly this time. I know I've said it before - Christine White, Carol Smith, and Jackie Onassis, but this time it's all quite different. The feeling in my bones is definately conveying the impression this time. We are still unaware as to what denomination the Reverend Mr Downing belongs - and I must admit, the situation is perplexing. He's not C of E, so he's either Mormon, Methodist, Primative Methodist, Baptist, Budhist, Druid or Zionist. I doubt very much whether the chap is a Cardinal - not with an 18 year-old daughter. Methodist too seems unlikely, because they are opposed to drink and little Naomi is propping up the bar of the Hare & Hounds seven nights a week.
-==-
Saturday March 15, 1975
Up at noon. Sue wants to go to Bradford in order to get a present for Peter, who is 17 on March 20, and I seem like a capable victim for her escort into Yorkshire's answer to Delhi. A bright sunny afternoon - cold though -is awaiting us in Bradford, and we visit Lynn who is selling suitcases in the British Home Stores. On to see Dear Denny, who enjoyed herself immensely in the Hare last night. Sue purchased a St Christopher locket for Peter, and we vacatedthe city at about 4.30.
To the Hare again. Gillian looks a bloody misery - so I soon get out of her company, and Helen doesn't harbour any grudges about last night, so all's well really.
Christine is in with Gary and she jokes about her birthday cards, but she soon departs when Chris arrives with Denny and Peter Mather. Chris was riddled with laryngitis when I last heard - but he's slightly improved now. John and Co. go off to Wheels and the remainder of us sod about in the Hare until 11. Ron, who was once more than good friends with Denny, and Graham Pease join us. Quite a laugh.
Chris and I come back home for a coffee but he leaves shortly after. See a Bob Hope film with Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter. Bed at about 2.30. (It's 1.30 really but they've altered the clocks to Summer Time now.)
-==-
To the Hare again. Gillian looks a bloody misery - so I soon get out of her company, and Helen doesn't harbour any grudges about last night, so all's well really.
Christine is in with Gary and she jokes about her birthday cards, but she soon departs when Chris arrives with Denny and Peter Mather. Chris was riddled with laryngitis when I last heard - but he's slightly improved now. John and Co. go off to Wheels and the remainder of us sod about in the Hare until 11. Ron, who was once more than good friends with Denny, and Graham Pease join us. Quite a laugh.
Chris and I come back home for a coffee but he leaves shortly after. See a Bob Hope film with Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter. Bed at about 2.30. (It's 1.30 really but they've altered the clocks to Summer Time now.)
-==-
Friday March 14, 1975
Friday again. Unpleasantness abounds this evening. Never before did I really appreciate just how irresistible I am to our good friends, the opposite sex. Whilst stood in the darkness of Wikis I was in the ridiculous position of holding hands with Helen, kissing Gillian, and attempting to hold a conversation with Christine D. In the process of this orgy of activity I did realise that someone, somewhere along the line would fall foul of my polygamous frolics, and this fleeting whimsy proved to be more than just conjecture. Helen took the huff and dragged Christine off, and I ended up in the bar staring into the false-eye-lash laden eyes of Miss Gillian Upton, wealthy spinster of the Parish of Guiseley, in the County of York. This entertaining episode lasted until 2.10am, and I was well aware that it wasn't quite finished. John and Naomi dragged me back to Miss Upton's for coffee and I proceeded to cremate myself in front of the fire. Sleep crept upon me until 5.20am when John finally decided to take me home. I don't remember just what I said to Gillian exactly, but she seemed peeved about something. She fancies me when she's had a little too much to drink, but my taste isn't in her direction at all reallly.
-==-
-==-
Thursday March 13, 1975
Glorious pay day once again. God knows what I'd do, or where I'd be, if that little bundle of notes wasn't thrust upon me once a week in the usual manner.
Marita rings at about 7 and says she's bored and gives me the usual stories about how sickened off she is lately, &c. I immediately leap to her rescue by saying 'we really ought to go out for a few drinks' or words to that effect. She agrees. Picking me up at 8 we go down to the Fox at Menston. I vowed never to darken the doorstep of that hostelry again following an incident therein the other week involving Helen and Miss Dibb. However, Marita likes it, so who cares? She informs me, whilst slumped over her tonic water, that Our Lady of Bramhope is no longer a spoken for person. My heart leaps at the thought of darling Denise being once again in our midst and tears of joy fell into my ale at Marita's tale of cruelty and misery. Ade, for all his good points, dealt irreparable blows to dearest Denise, and for that alone he deserves all the evils that will surely come to him.
--==--
Marita rings at about 7 and says she's bored and gives me the usual stories about how sickened off she is lately, &c. I immediately leap to her rescue by saying 'we really ought to go out for a few drinks' or words to that effect. She agrees. Picking me up at 8 we go down to the Fox at Menston. I vowed never to darken the doorstep of that hostelry again following an incident therein the other week involving Helen and Miss Dibb. However, Marita likes it, so who cares? She informs me, whilst slumped over her tonic water, that Our Lady of Bramhope is no longer a spoken for person. My heart leaps at the thought of darling Denise being once again in our midst and tears of joy fell into my ale at Marita's tale of cruelty and misery. Ade, for all his good points, dealt irreparable blows to dearest Denise, and for that alone he deserves all the evils that will surely come to him.
--==--
Wednesday March 12, 1975
I don't want to write anything today really other that to say how happy I am that you are fit and well, and living up to life's little tests in the manner which I am sure would make any Englishman proud. Goodbye.
I know it's cheating doing this, but it isn't March 12 at all in this paragraph, if you know what I mean. The first bit about me not bothering to write anything was March 12, but as sure as Donny Osmond is Donny Osmond this paragraph isn't March 12.
-==-
I know it's cheating doing this, but it isn't March 12 at all in this paragraph, if you know what I mean. The first bit about me not bothering to write anything was March 12, but as sure as Donny Osmond is Donny Osmond this paragraph isn't March 12.
-==-
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