Monday May 15, 1978

Moon's first quarter 08:40

(It's 7:45pm) Lynn is downstairs playing a nauseating Frank Sinatra LP on the record player. Don't get me wrong, Frank is no monster or gargoyle, but actually purchasing one of his LPs is something I could never do. I think it mirrors Lynn's frame of mind at this time, the close of her free existence and passing youth. No doubt Frank will be at the forefront of her 'record playing' list when she's 30, or even 40. Her character is now moulded and cast and I foresee no drastic alterations in the coming years. When she's a little, old lady in 50 years time I do suppose she won't have changed one bit. Oh dear. Frank's OK, but long live James Brown, Wild Cherry, Judge Dread, the Sex Pistols, Debbie Harry, Ian Dury, and Bianca Jagger.

Sunday May 14, 1978

Whit Sunday ~ Pentecost

Sue, Pete, Jacq and I made lunch ~ all together in the kitchen and afterwards we watched Lord Olivier in the 1940s version of 'Hamlet'. I enjoyed it but Jacq looked miserable and Sir Larry's procrastinating drove Sue and Pete from the room.

I felt decidedly sick & low all day. Lynn and Dave came back from Burley-in-Wharfedale covered in grime.

We had beefburgers and fried onions and afterwards I walked Jacq to the bus stop, and one actually arrived that intended going all the way to Leeds. She mounted this rare article of public transport but not before an interesting piece of conversation had taken place regarding my sexual orientation.

In the Shoulder last night Tony told her I am ACDC. We laughed about it. It just goes to show what rubbish is bandied about in the bars and lounges of the dear English pub.
Tony ________________________________. Oh dear.

Mum and Dad come back from Scarborough after a riotous weekend with Edith, Ernest, Margaret and Jim.

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Saturday May 13, 1978

Sun rises 5:13

Sun sets 20:42

Up at 10:30. Jacq had left at 8 to go do her bit for Dacre, Son and Hartley. Dear Mummy and Daddy departed for Scarborough with Edith, Ernest, Margaret and Jim Nason, and we'll probably never see them again. It will be a booze-up to end all booze ups.

Before she left Mum moaned at me about waking her at 3:0am. She does have 'bionic ear holes' does my Mummy. Nobody else on earth could possibly pick up the signals she receives.

Jacq didn't get here until about 5:30. She had her hair done at Vidal Sassoon's. She says they (Sassoon's) will perm my hair for £12 and should I decide to go ahead with it I have to ask for some suspicious character who answers to Terry.

With Sue and Pete we went to the Shoulder (of Mutton) at 8:30 where the merry party-goers gathered. Tony, Martyn, Jill Rhodes, Chris R, Pete M, Steve Hudson, John, Maria, Linda White (not Shite), Jimmy Macdonald, &c. I was soon horribly drunk. I do remember laughing with Linda until the tears gushed down my thighs.

Jimmy Mac and Jacq just didn't hit it off one bit. He tried to tell Jacq what it really is like living in London, having lived there for almost four years. When Jacq explained she'd been born there and had been knocking around the metropolis for a quarter of a century he pooh poohed this saying something about not being able to judge by living in 'bourgeois Muswell Hill'.

Back at Tony's little flat I was closeted in the kitchen and cornered by Jimmy who went on and on about Aldo Moro, the Pope and democracy. I do believe John joined in too.

I fell on the floor on top of Michelle ~ with her locked in my arms ~ after a dance went critically wrong.

The girls from Smith's were there in force including Georgina and Co. Even Wendy "Cynthia" turned up with Yvonne Elliman.

Linda brought the 'Saturday Night Fever' LP with her but they didn't let us play all the way through.

Martyn Knipe brought Jacq and I home at some ghastly hour and I immediately put on the record player and went into the garden and vomited.

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Friday May 12, 1978

Met Jacq at the Hog's Head at 12 and we discussed our finances. I'm supposed to be changing over to receiving my pay on a monthly basis in October or November but because I'll be a month in hand I will have to work for four or five weeks with no cash. Like a nightmare, eh?

Kathleen was ill ~ dying at home. Sarah went off this afternoon with John MacM. Tomorrow they go to the RL Cup Final at Wembley.

Oh, I forgot to say that last night both Tony and Martyn phoned to invite me to Tony's flat warming in Shipley. I said yes immediately. Martyn said: "bring along your little lady friend from Clapham, or wherever." He ended with a typical "are you engaged, yet?" Silly sod.

Tonight I met Jacq off the 8:45 train from Leeds and we walked to the Crown at Yeadon. We did have quite a good evening. Didn't see Philip K. Carol Smith was in with her boyfriend, Trevor. Jacq and I propped up the bar and had three or four pints.

Alan Thompson, the EP film critic, was in with his hippy son. He told me he won't be on the Father's Day trip to Blackpool this year because he wants to keep his limbs intact for a little while longer. It was on the Father's Day trip in 1976 that Denis Haywood fell off the pier into the murky depths.

At 11 we walked back to Guiseley in a mild drizzle stopping at the bus shelter near Aireborough Grammar School in the hope that somebody would stop and pick us up, but no such luck.

Home at 12:15 and we read 'The Woman He Loved' by Ralph G. Martin. Yes, we both sat like Ryan O'Neal and Ally McGraw wrapped in one another's arms with our eyes riveted to the yellowing pages.

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Thursday May 11, 1978

Princess Margaret is suffering from hepatitis coupled with gastroentiritis and is back at Kensington Palace after a week in hospital. She is undoubtedly wrecked.

To the dentist. Hough accidentally impaled my tongue on his needle whilst injecting me for the two fillings I required. The stench of rotting and burning dentine as he drilled down towards my gums was nauseating. I think I gave his new receptionist a nervous breakdown. Men are allowed to scream. A most revolting experience.

Tonight: Mama gave her usual Thursday 'at home' for the Nasons and Blackwells. Ern went out his way to annoy Mum. Motherdear drank NO alcohol and consumed only 2 glasses of water. Only I was privy to this fact. Everybody else thought she was on the hard stuff.

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Wednesday May 10, 1978

A hot day. I have a red face after last night under the sun ray lamp.

Had an interesting conversation with Kathleen this morning on the subject of political assassinations and kidnapping. She mocked and ridiculed me when I said an 'Aldo Moro situation' could easily arise in this country. For instance, old Harold Macmillan could be snatched from his bed tonight and murdered and six weeks later his body could be dumped in Mayfair. This, in violent 1978 is no preposterous, hypothetical statement. Kathleen screamed with laughter, saying political horrors of this natured originated in Britain and that we have now tired of killing our elder statesmen. To illustrate her argument she said: "Look at Spencer Perceval for instance."

I think she's missing the point. The antics of bewigged 18th century politicians cannot be likened to Red Brigade terrorist atrocities in Italy. It is only a matter of time before a leading British politician is held hostage by a fanatical English (or Irish) group.

Sarah and I howled as Kathleen ranted on about the Black and Tans and Carson, Spencer Perceval's assassination and the plight of Marie Antoinette.

"Go eat cake", Kathleen, dear, that's my advice to you.

It was announced at 2:30 that Princess Margaret and the Earl of Snowdon are to divorce. It seems that Tony wishes to marry Lucy Lindsay-Hogg.

I cannot imagine the Princess marrying Roddy Llewellyn following the recent attacks upon her and her way of life. What with this and the fact that she's still hospitalized with gastroentiritis I don't think the Queen's sister will be a very happy woman today.

Have had pleasant transport experiences this week. British Rail have enjoyed my company on several mornings and nights (except Monday) and Papa accompanied me yesterday and today. The fare to Leeds is now 37p one way for me. I do believe that in the early 70s I only used to pay 44p return. The robbing pigs.

A letter from David L awaits me tonight. He simply says he's using Dad as a reference for a job in general management at Littlewood's. He's applied for a job there. Poor David's become so disillusioned with teaching. I am sure that the responsibility has aged him.

I phoned Jacq at 7:10pm. She was out. I'll bet some Greek has her out somewhere in a wine bar. They are invariably called Panos.

Ursula phoned several times tonight with enquiries about Princess Margaret's divorce. (i) How many royals have divorced since King Henry VIII? (ii) Could Lord Harewood's illegitimate son, Mark Lascelles, ever be King of England? (iii) Did King George IV divorce Queen Caroline?

I told her about Princess Marie Louise's divorce from Aribert of Anhalt in 1900, and Princess Victoria Melita's divorce in 1901 from the Grand Duke of Hesse. Both these women were granddaughters of Queen Victoria. I told her that Mark Lascelles was excluded from the line of succession, and on George IV's divorce I told her that Caroline died whilst the trial was still going on in 1821, and so, no.

However, Margaret's divorce is the closest in relationship to the monarch since Tudor times.

Saw 'The Winslow Boy' on tv tonight starring Eric Porter and the Dotrice female. It was excellent.

To bed with a sun-tanned glowing face at 11:35.

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Tuesday May 9, 1978

Sarah and I went to Parker's wine bar at lunchtime. Had a couple of pints and a glass of dry white wine. She is a giggle is Sarah, but the soul destroying infatuation which ruled my thoughts for years on end is now over. She is attractive, humorous and enchanting but a relationship would never get off the ground. We discuss quitting the YP.

Hot day. Christine phoned this afternoon to say she went out last night with a guy she met at the party on Saturday. She refers to herself as a 'bugger'. She flies off to Jersey on Wednesday with with Mum. Paddy Braithwaite died a year ago this month. I do suppose they'll be thinking about him all the more.

Items of news: Aldo Moro, the former Italian PM who was kidnapped 54 days ago was found dead today. Lord Hillingdon, of Williams & Glyn's Bank, is dead too. Margaret Hilda Thatcher and Mr Callagas have been squabbling about knocking off one solitary penny in the pound in Income Tax. Fools. The Queen is still wearing spectacles when reading in public.

Mum visited Dr Mellor this morning and he did nothing but talk about Dad and how marvellous the British police force is. In the surgery she chatted to a woman with a baby called Peter. The woman told her Peter is becoming popular again thanks to Princess Anne. I don't think so.

John came up to see Lynn and Dave about something. He told me Tony has moved to Shipley and is throwing a party there on Saturday. He and Maria are going. _____________________.

Bed at midnight.

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Monday May 8, 1978

It was good to see Dave and Co. yesterday. He's now growing a beard.

Jacq and I got a BUS to Leeds at 7:50. En route she suggests I have my hair permed in the style of one of the Arsenal (football) players. I am unsure. One has to be so careful with this sort of thing. I'd hate to look more effeminate than I do already. However, I've never really been one who worried about the impression I give to others. Joe Public can go get stuffed.

I must send a few letters this week. I have yet to let Helen down for May 19, and Joy, in far off Amsterdam, is awaiting a literary morsel from my genius pen. David too, in far off Gloucester, has been neglected and abused.

Saw 'Pete 'n Tillie', a film with Carole Burnett and Walter Matthau, on the telly tonight. Dave L and I saw it first at Yeadon in 1972, I'm sure.

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Sunday May 7, 1978

New Moon 05:47

Sunday after Ascension

Slept in the dining room after concocting a breakfast of cheese on toast with poached eggs and fish cakes for Jacq and I. It sounds quite revolting but we ate it like starving fiends. Lynn & Dave woke me at 9:30 and after a few coffees I was OK.

Weather ~ strangely dry. The sun put in an appearance. Mum and Dad went with Lynn & Dave to Burley. Jacq, Sue and I sat looking through old photograph albums. We howled with laughter at the one of me picking my nose ~ in Goldthorpe Park with my Uncle Albert.

Dave of Stockport, Billy Wright and Garry Barratt came her just before 12. With Jacq, Sue and Pete we went to the Commercial. It was good to see them. A quiet start but we ended up roaring with laughter. I don't think Jacq took to Bill at all.

At 2 we returned home for an impromptu afternoon party. Shortly afterwards Uncle Peter, Auntie Jean, Julie, Beverley and Penny came up the lane in a massive, American automobile (borrowed). It was unbelievable. Moore booze was consumed. In all the activity we hadn't noticed that Bev was drunk (aged 10). It embarrassed me greatly because I was 'Major Domo' on the bar. The poor kid. Uncle Peter, in typical form, merely laughed it off.

John, Maria and JPH came and stayed until midnight watching 'Ben Hur' on tv. A diabolical film, but it astounded Victorian audiences all over the world when it was first released in 1867.

Baby (JPH) is thin and tall and toddles at high speed, like a road runner. Mum, as usual, is besotted with the young fellow.

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Saturday May 6, 1978

Sun rises 05:24 Sun sets 20:31

Auntie Mabel phoned this morning to say that Uncle Jack's (Myers) days are numbered. Cousin Jackie had phoned her to say the family had been summoned to the hospital to be told nothing can be done to stop the cancer. Auntie Eleanor is going to sell her shop. The poor family must be in torment.

Jacq and I listened to records all day and Dave B took us in the Spitfire to the Hare at 8:30. The place was like Belsen, but without the rotting corpses. So deserted. From here we went to the Fox where Christine joined us at 9. After a short debate we moved to the Crown at Yeadon, which is packed with the cream of local society. The majority of ladies here are like Roman goddesses.

Philip Knowles, exceedingly drunk, invited us all to his girlfriend's party in Guiseley. She is Jane Sinclair, sister of the notorious _____. I was surprised when Christine expressed a wish to go. It didn't take me long to realise just how much she and P still think of one another. I think it would be great if they could be back together.

The party was back at Guiseley (on Victoria Road, above the fish and chip shop). Knocking back the booze and dancing to Rod Stewart LPs. Poor Jacq regurgitated much of tonight's alcoholic intake. She didn't pass out though, like some people. Poor Philip was one of the first to keel over.

I bumped into Lynne Sykes and we had a good long chat reminiscing about Benton (Park). One way or another it was just like old times and I didn't feel like a nerdish 23 year-old with one knee in the grave, which was refreshing. Christine was a sorry figure because she was hitting it off with Philip so well, and when he crashed out in his girlfriend's bed it left her stranded. She danced a good deal.

Home at 4:30 to a damned dawn chorus.

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Friday May 5, 1978

A wet day, again. I met Jacq at the Ostlers and I had a cheeseburger sandwich and consumed a moderate measure of ale. I intended buying a shirt for £10 but the shop only had the one on display and the nasty (shop) assistant was not prepared to take it from the window. It's probably a blessing because my finances are revoltingly low this week.

Tonight I met Jacq in the rain at 8:30 and we spent the evening at the Drop Inn. Christine and Mary came in for ten minutes at 10:30. We arranged to see Christine at the Fox tomorrow. _______________.

At 11pm we made our way homeward via Green Bottom fish and chip shop, and we sat playing records and drinking stout until a disgusting hour.

I really do think that Jacq should stop smoking. __________. Just think what her lungs will look like in a few years time if she continues this experiment of self-pollution. W.D. & H.O. Wills deserve to rot in Hell.




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