Tuesday January 3, 1978

_.Circumcision (transference) Bank Holiday (Scotland)
Today is Circumcision Day. Not for me though.
Jacqui knocked on my bedroom door at about 6:45am and I lay shuddering listening to the racket being made outside. Thunder, hail, snow and gales - all on Hawksworth Lane. We ate and drank nothing and went out to face the elements. I saw her safely to the London coach and she left just after 8:30.

I had a change of attitude towards work today and put it down to the fact that I have every intention of leaving. Even now, the personnel manager at YTV may be wording a begging letter to the compiler of these simple diaries. Who knows?

Jack Jones: Blenheim Palace?

Spent the day sorting out the New Year's Honours List. Just five revolting peerages, numerous BEMs to hundreds of thousands of canteen ladies throughout the vast Commonwealth. Jack Jones, the left-wing, militant, communist trade union leader becomes Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, a Field Marshal and a Knight Grand Cross of the Order of the Crown of India. I'm surprised they haven't given Jones Blenheim Palace as a reward for his services to the nation.

I attempted to buy a volume for my 1978 journal today but failed miserably. I couldn't find one to match this anywhere. Do I foresee the end of this partnership? Just look at what we've been through together since January, 1973. Five, hard industrious years. Oh yes we have laughed a lot, but we have wept together too. No, I cannot allow it to end like this. On pay day (January 5) I'll buy a diary whether it resembles this WH Smith's one or not.

Retired to bed at 12:30am with nothing to read. Tomorrow I will go to the library. Perhaps a bit of Dumas again. Aaarrghh.

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Monday January 2, 1978

_.Bank Holiday in England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales. Mum & Dad's birthday. They come round so quick these days. We bought them more Royal Albert (china). Yes, a coffee pot this time. Mum intends having a special cabinet erected in some prominent position in which to display her china collection. A dinner service is next on the list.

Birch Tree at Wilsill.

A warm, almost Spring-like day. With gusto we all went (Mum, Dad, Jacqui, me, Lynn, Dave, Sue, Pete and Chris Baker) to the Birch Tree Inn at Wilsill for a nosh and a slight booze. Mr & Mrs Baker were supposed to join us but Dave accidentally sent them off on a wild goose chase around North Yorkshire. Those of us who did manage to find the place did have a good time.

Tonight Jacqui and I went out with Sue and Peter to the Commercial. To be honest I'm bored to death of booze, but one must keep up appearances. From the pub we went on a tour of picturesque Yorkshire Chinese take-aways, where we bought curry, chips, &c. The greed was on a phenomenal scale.


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Sunday January 1, 1978

_.1st after Christmas - New Year's Day. Yes, at midnight I was in Edith's garden with a solitary Persian cat. Alone with just my thoughts of 1977. They didn't come to much really. Minutes later I was inside being kissed, fondled and embraced.

Edith & Ernest: not like OAPs.

From here we made a convoy to Pine Tops where the family had finally arrived. Mum, a bit sozzled, is with Christine and Len ( a couple of her buddies). The party got under way nicely but I detected a more reserved atmosphere this year and a falling of of the numbers attending. But I enjoyed it all immensely.

I won't bore you with the party details because when you've read about one you've read about them all, don't you think? I got to my bed at some time after 6:00am. _____________.

Woke up at 12 or so. Jacqui and I went to Edith & Ernest's at 2 and stayed until after 5. She thinks Ern is really interesting. I thought she would. The Blackwells aren't like OAPs at all. He reminds me of Uncle Albert. Back home for a nosh and then watched the film 'Nicholas & Alexandra'. Jacqui was bored by it.

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Saturday December 31, 1977

_.Jacqui and I went down to Guiseley and bought a birthday card for Mum and Dad. I chose a nice one without a revolting, soppy rhyme in it. I'm very particular about my choice of greeting cards. We then went to the Yorkshire Rose for a couple of hours. ____. It began to rain on leaving the pub and so I took her to John's for refuge only to find the house deserted. _____.

Pine Tops, Hawksworth Lane.

The party started tonight at the Hare & Hounds. Martyn and his girlfriend joined us. In came Christine Dibb and Graham, Maria, Libby, Jimmy, John, Sue, Peter N, Chris, Steve Hudson, Lynn, Dave B, Dave L, George and Jane, Nason's pals, MM and Marita, &c. Lynn was dressed in dungarees and wearing specs, one of my shirts and a tie! They all got on very well with Jacqui. _____. Libby Macdonald looked ghastly. No sign of CB or Carole. At 11:45pm a break away party, led by me, returned to Pine Tops where, to my horror, I discovered my key was locked in the house and I was locked outside. Where was Mum and Dad? They were at the Commercial drinking Southern Comfort and making merry. It was very embarrassing for me. But in a flash I knew what to do. Edith and Ernest's of course.  Armed with sherry and other obscene drinks about ten of us 'dropped in' on the dear couple. We all toasted the New Year with them as the clocks were striking 12 and I was locked outside, as is the custom, with Dmitri the Persian cat. Through the window I could see Marita and Ernest locked in a tight embrace and a host of jovial faces drinking David's cheap sherry. Oh dear, it's 1978 now.

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Friday December 30, 1977

_.Met Jacqui at 4:30pm and, coincidentally, we spotted David and Mr Lawson conveniently parked at traffic lights on Wellington Street. Ferried home right to the door. Dave says he isn't going out tonight but he'll be on the scene tomorrow.

Jacqui looked very well. She has a new hairstyle. We do get on extremely well. At home we laughed over the photos of her last visit. Candle lit dinner with Mum, Dad and Susan.

From the sumptuous dining table we escaped with Sue, Pete, Janet (Simon) and Chippy to the Fox & Hounds. Joined by Martyn, Pete M and Chris.  __________________.

We came home and watched TV.

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Thursday December 29, 1977

_.I have applied for a job in the reference library at YTV. Yes, I put a letter together and sealed the envelope and have every intention of leaving the YP if I'm accepted. Four years is long enough in a dead end job. It's about time I joined the 'rat race' and earned lots of money. In 15 years time when I'm an OBE and making regular appearances on the Morecambe & Wise Show I bet the management at the YP will be kicking themselves.

Eric Sykes in Charley's Aunt.

Saw Eric Sykes in 'Charley's Aunt' which was good. Dom Melville, QC, came to see me. Do I have a cat in Hell's chance of obtaining damages from my assailant? Dom says he will do everything in his power to find out but bringing an assault case against the bounder (Kirk) may mean that I too could also be bound over to keep the Queen's peace. Me! And all I did was to fall over and bleed quietly! No chance. Anyway, I do have qualms about dragging it through the courts. I don't fancy being dragged in chains before Donald Best, JP, and neither do I relish the thought of reading my name in the pages of my dear newspaper. If Dom can simply frighten the yob to death I shall be eternally happy. Dom says he will go see Kirk on Sunday night, and so he'll be quaking for New Year.

Watched a ghost story and went, laughing, to bed.

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Wednesday December 28, 1977

_.Ghastly day at the YP and so I'll say no more. However, John's party tonight made up for it. Feeling decidedly Bohemian I clad myself in a collarless shirt and braces and ruffled up my hair and reintroduced that glazed glint to my disgustingly attractive eyes. Lynne Mather was there. Her reaction on seeing me was to exclaim: "Oh Michael! Haven't you let yourself go?" Let myself go indeed.  It proved to be the punch line of the whole evening. Poor Lynne looked quite well really and she seemed to fluctuate between David L and MM. It's very unusual for Dave to fall for the charms of any female, but a definite warming towards Lynne was obvious. Denise and Marita on good form.

Lynne Mather.

Helen and Graham were the best. I didn't realise until this Christmas just how much I miss Helen. Two years ago we were always in the pub together, invariably bringing the place down and seeing her again has brought these memories flooding back.

Maria was very drunk. She banged about on the piano, cig in mouth, destroying Christmas Carols.

The whole thing fizzled out long before I wanted it to. Jimmy Macdonald reckons he's a wild boozer, but when it all boils down to it he's an average drinking man of moderate nocturnal habits. Even John danced. By 3:00am it was over.

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Tuesday December 27, 1977

Bank Holiday in England, Ireland and Wales.

I failed to mention that Helen (the Mrs Helen Malin) and I had another bet yesterday. After paying her the £1 note for 1975 bet we placed another wager. She says Her Majesty will abdicate by January 1, 1981. I have obviously won this one. She (Helen, not the Queen) has moved to Peterborough and a four bedroomed house. I'm invited whenever I fancy going.

Up at 9:30 and cleared the devastation with Dave. Sandra and Miss LD are smoking and lounging like Roman whores whilst we slave. Dave taped some of my records and I made breakfast. I was home by 11:30. No hangover or touch of the squelches. The Lawson coffee liqueur usually loosens everything nicely.

Spent the day at home chiefly discussing the events of last night with the girls. I do love David's Christmas parties.

(Uncle) John, Sheila and Valerie came at 6:30 and for six or seven hours we sampled the wine and forced food down ourselves. Disgusting really. (Uncle) John became greatly pissed and was very amusing. He invited us all to his Canary Island home and even suggested to Lynn & Dave that they should honeymoon there. Good, eh? The only sad thing about all this is that Windsor will never be the same again. Valerie is nice. To bed at 2:00am with the horror of work stretching before me. Ghastly. Tomorrow will be hideous I know.

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Monday December 26, 1977

Bank Holiday in England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales.

Dave.

David's Christmas party. For the first time in many years Mr & Mrs L(awson) haven't gone to Blackpool for the Yuletide festivities, but instead they spend the night at Sandra's.  The event went off with the usual bang. All the gang turned up except CB who is once again having boyfriend bother (Oh God).  Mr______made his usual quip about my dancing, and so I got my own back when he was preparing to leave. He and _____(who was surly, morose and introverted) left together and before a large audience in the kitchen I quipped: "Ay, Ay, off for our traditional screw on the Chevin, are we?" Tee Hee. Sandra was grotesquely pissed and I fear some of her lustre has faded. Linda D______ was present. A bit of a tart, I fear. _____.

Slept in my usual rooms at Tennyson Street. God knows what time I eventually crashed out.

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Sunday December 25, 1977

Christmas Day. Santa Claus and all that. Merry Christmas to you all! Up at approx. 10:00am to open my presents. The bulk of my gifts consist of underpants and socks. I don't care.

John, Maria and JPH came at 2 and stayed until 4. JPH was bewildered by all the fuss and wept towards the end. Poor soul. Gt-Auntie Annie and Gt-Uncle John Kirk came for ten minutes (visiting son Raymond on Southway). I gave them the photographs I took on Dec 14.

Helen Mirren.

We eventually dined in great style at 5:00pm. Feeling bloated some 90 minutes later, and whilst everyone else slept, I decided on the novel idea of gluing photographs in a new photo album. A strange Christmas pastime probably, but anything is better than the Moscow State Circus and Angela Rippon on the TV.

Julie Ege.

TR7

This evening I sat drinking shandy by the TV set. A couple of boring films later I retired to bed bearing my pile of items of male underwear. Ah well, you can't win 'em all, Michael. Perhaps next year I'll get the TR7 and a night out with Helen Mirren and Julie Ege. Merry Christmas!

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Saturday December 24, 1977

_.Got up this morning to assess my wounds. I'll probably need plastic surgery and by the look of things it will affect my fan club membership. Oh, it's terrible. I've buggered my hand too. How will I battle through my Christmas dinner?

Sarah: revolted by my injuries.

Before going downstairs I had to ask Susan where I had been and exactly how I had acquired my injuries. She told my coldly. Oh, I am a fool.

My apologies were accepted by Mum and Dad and he went off to Otley (Police Station) to deal with the swine, or at least find something out. I believe my assailant was only 16 years-old.

Sarah came over at 8 and we, the whole family, went to the Hare & Hounds. Sarah is quiet and I put it down to my injuries. Am I so disfigured that Sarah is revolted?

The atmosphere in the pub is not what I would call festive. In fact most people seem quite sombre. No doubt it's because old age is creeping up on the group and crushing the lustre of yuletide joy from our poor minds.

Sarah, pleading exhaustion, retired at 11:30. Back to Pine Tops with the whole family. Maria brought her Scottish cousin, Marian along too. But, possibly because of my condition, I just felt morose and dismal. Tired even. At 2:00am I stunned the revellers by announcing my retirement.

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