Tuesday May 23, 1978

Phoned Christine this afternoon and laughed about the usual things.

The so-called bus strike ended. It is estimated that it will cost ratepayers £1,000,000. I got an infernal omnibus to Guiseley for the first time in many weeks.

This evening I phoned Dave G to say the bill from Global Travel is finally in my hands. The holiday this year will cost us £176 (approx) each, and to think that in 1971 I went to Interlaken, Switzerland for a mere £40.

Dave was fine. He's looking forward with almost an insane passion to the San Antonio jaunt ~ in about seven weeks time.

Mother is still in one of her 'let's all moan at Michael' moods which doesn't do much for my patience or temper. It is equally infuriating to see Lawrence Rhodes, PC 1656, sitting through the barrage of abusive, slanderous drivel as though he is stone deaf.

I think you now have a clear picture that life isn't all roses and pea wine here at Pine Tops. However, I suppose things could be much, much worse. __________.

Whilst Her Majesty the Queen is in Bonn, over in London Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon are about to be divorced. The petition is due to be heard tomorrow and the £16 'quickie' will set a precedent in the Royal House of Windsor that will not please many people. If I were a bishop I can tell you that I'd be bombarding The Times with lengthy epistles on the sanctity of family life.

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Monday May 22, 1978

Full Moon 17:14

Overcast sort of day. I phoned Christine after lunch to say I stood outside her house at some ridiculous hour on Saturday morning in a feeble attempt to attract her attention. We laughed a good deal. Her car is having its MOT this week and so we are not having our weekly orgy. She was out with Carl or Karl on Saturday which confirms Jacq's report of seeing a man in her car on the night in question.

I also rang Michelle at Smith's and she broke the news to me that the bill for the holiday is in the post. More money to pay out.

Mum had her usual weekly 'go' at me over dinner. It was an attack on my financial, moral and romantic condition. She usually sticks to just one subject for each argument but today's was a multi combined assault resembling a scene from the Russian Revolution. She made several nasty cracks that I won't forget in a hurry. I am sure that at times she is unstable.

Passed the evening in front of the tv. News: a couple of Belgian taxidermists have been shot in Zaire and everyone seems to be in uproar about it. I fail to be shocked, horrified, surprised or remotely interested about what goes on in these 'Up the Jungle' Banana republics. Who cares whether Mr Mobutu's government is stable or not? Perhaps Mrs Mobutu, or maybe even his elderly mother, but certainly nobody else.

Her Majesty the Queen is in West Germany on her second state visit to that land. I was reading somewhere that in a recent opinion poll 85 per cent of voters said that would-be kaiser Prince Louis Ferdinand of Prussia would be the best man to be president of the republic ~ and he wasn't even on the list of candidates suggested in the poll!

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Sunday May 21, 1978

Trinity Sunday

At 12 we all went to the White Swan at Yeadon ~ except Lynn & Dave, who couldn't escape the clutches of Lawn Rd ~ Mother wasn't in a particularly joyous mood, & Margaret Nason__________. The object of this lunchtime mêlée? Well, Susan was playing cricket for Wendy Wools on this, the Swan cricket ground, that has seen the likes of Sir Godfrey Bloodclot and Mavis Trueman at the crease. Or is it Christine Trueman? Whatever.

It was a bright day, yet cold. Sue did marvellously well and bowled one opponent , then caught another. By 4pm she was exhausted and more or less gave in when it was her lot to bat. She only managed to get two runs. We were all proud of the dear thing, anyway.

Back home for about 5. Jacq and I listened to the radio until 7. Mum and Dad went to Maureen and Laurence Craven's silver wedding party.

Jacq and I sat in the lounge (99 per cent decorated) ~ watched an Edward G. Robinson film. Jacq had no idea that Janet Leigh had once been the wife of Tony Curtis.

At 10 to Harry Ramsden's and then had a quick drink at the White Cross before Jacq left for Leeds at 10:45.

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Saturday May 20, 1978

Sun rises 5:02 Sun sets 20:53

Out of bed at 11am to finish painting the lounge fireplace, yes the fireplace. It took most of the day and my sole companion on this adventure was Alan Freeman on Radio 1.

The highlight of the afternoon was when the legs of the television, with my help, gave way and capsized. Most people in the land were watching the England v. Scotland football match on their sets, but mine was upside down, covered in emulsion paint. It was an experience that neither the telly or I will forget lightly.

Met Jacq in Guiseley at 8 and had a drink in the Yorkshire Rose. She was clad in red and black which was attractive. From the above mentioned weird tavern we made our way to the Crown at Yeadon where we tarried until 11.

Philip Knowles and Co, plus Naomi, Rick Hartley and mob were merry-making, but no parties for afterwards seem to have been planned. I was horrified when Jacq mentioned seeing Naomi at Tony's party. I wasn't aware that Miss Downing had been to the party. Oh, I was so pissed. Phil Hewitt's sister who works behind the bar, is a nice girl.

At 11 we returned to Pine Tops. The two of discussed going abroad to seek our fortunes next year. Do you get the feeling that you've heard all this somewhere before? Yes, but now is the time, Michael!


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Friday May 19, 1978

Met Jacq in the Central at lunchtime and discussed tonight's thrilling adventure. Having no idea where to go, we finally decide on Cinderella's. I don't think I've been since Dec 1976 when we went on the Christmas "do" there from the YP.

I got a bus at about 9pm to Leeds and met Jacq at the Jubilee, opposite the Town Hall, before moving to the Merrion Centre. She contributed £5 for her share of the evening's alcohol. In Cinderella's for 10:30. For most of the night the DJ played the 'Saturday Night Fever' LP which I (far more than poor Jacq) thoroughly enjoy. We didn't get smashed either, although we did blow £10. The dance floor was the coolest place to be and we danced like half-crazed Māori tribesmen until we were virtually thrown out at 2:15am.

The night was warm and light and after taking Jacq back to the hostel I set off along Burley Road in the direction of home. Again, I walked as far as Rawdon Crematorium before anyone decided I needed a lift.

On New Road Side I stood outside Christine's loudly whispering her name. Her bedroom light shone invitingly out across the sweet smelling Horsforth meadows, and my heart raced at the thought of her négligé clad form coming out to greet me.

It must have been about 5:0am when I eventually got to bed.

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Thursday May 18, 1978

Work day and night. Hacking up old newspapers all day and slapping paint on the lounge all night. Absolutely nothing else to report. Oh yes, I have.

Lynn was splattered all over the front page of the EP this evening and sales have probably rocketed because of it. She was sprawled all over the wing of a new £84,000 aircraft at Yorkshire Light Aircraft Co. I told her she should receive 'royalties' for her sales technique, and I don't say it as a light hearted quip either. How much money would Ursula Andress or Raquel Welch receive for advertising in such a way?

Jacq and I went to the library (again) at lunchtime. I have finally discarded Samuel Pepys. He was a decent sort, but to be honest I just haven't had the time to read his confounded diaries fully. After a month I've only covered six months of his daily natterings.

Wednesday May 17, 1978

Got home from work to find the lounge devastated in readiness for the redecoration. Dad was in the garden and Mum was moping in the dining room and didn't say more than a handful of words all evening. I sat putting photographs into a new album until 11pm and then retired to bed. Such a boring night. If things continue like this tomorrow I may have to resort to taking Bianca Jagger out for a drink or two.

'Royal Flash isn't a very good book at all. Just not my cup of tea ~ third rate and ridiculous.How can one be expected to take seriously a tale about Otto von Bismarck rolling about in bed with a French tart?

This pen is just about going to run out of ink by the time I finish writing this. It didn't ...


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