Friday June 30, 1978

A very historic day indeed ~two fold. Prince Michael of Kent and Baroness Marie-Christine von Reibnitz married in a civil ceremony in Vienna. The Queen despatched Princess Anne and Earl Mountbatten of Burma to give the whole thing the feeling of approval. The new Princess Michael of Kent is very beautiful and looks far more 'royal' than poor Mrs Mark Phillips ever could.

The second historic happening took place on my head. After a nervous and nasty morning at the YP I went to Images salon in Yeadon at 1pm where I was permed, curled, frizzled ~ call it what you will. This operation lasted until after 3 and I emerged looking decidedly woolly and feeling very self-conscious.

At home opinion was varied. Typically Dad came right out with it and said I looked "queer". Mum thought it was, er "modern". Sue liked it, of course. John called in but couldn't speak for laughing.

Tonight: met Jacq at 8 on Wellington Street and then went by bus to the Original Oak at Headingley. She thinks the hair is marvellous and keeps patting me on the head over and over again. We were joined by Sarah and John Mac at 9. Their opinion is that I look like a professional footballer and Sarah too gets the urge to pat me ceaselessly about the top.

At 10:30 it was on to Grant McKee's party. I took a bottle of elderberry wine which was a knock-out although the turn-out was poor. Jacq and I became horribly drunk and at about 3am the pair of us were puking in a privet hedge in McKee's garden. ________. Paul Vallely gave us a review copy of their 'Nasty Media' record. Grant invited us to stay the night and I have every reason to believe we did.

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Thursday June 29, 1978

St Peter

Pay day. Met Jacq at her place at lunchtime and we managed to walk round town without resorting to having a drink. She went to Barclays and drew out more cash and I took a film to be developed at Gratispool's and ordered my £90 holiday money from the bank in Park Square.

Back at the office I altered my wall chart showing the order of succession to the throne. Prince Michael is wiped from the list from tomorrow and Princess Alexandra moves up from the 17 position to number 16. ______.

Tonight: The Nasons and Blackwells made their weekly visit to Pine Tops. We had a subdued evening watching television and Ern especially was a misery. This house buying and associated upheaval at his advanced age (he's 71) is a mistake. It's a wicked thing to say but I'm sure one of them will not live a year to reap the enjoyment ~ if any ~ of living in ghastly Devon. Cream teas and all that.

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Wednesday June 28, 1978

On the subject of our royal monarchs of the past I'm sure you'll be intrigued to learn that had he been alive today, King Henry VIII would have been celebrating his 487th birthday. It's probably just as well he died when he did because the distribution of the royal Maundy money would have proved chaotic.

Ode to King Henry VIII

A fat man you were,
by all accounts,
Or so I was told at school,
Six Queen's in all you managed to use,
but which one was Lady Jane Grey?

To be serious, I'd just like to say that these odes are becoming far too frequent and in future I promise to limit them to exceptionally rare and wonderful occasions. Blimey, I don't want you thinking I'm compiling poems just to fill up the blank spaces in my diary. That would never do.

Ode to you

Thanks for ready me,
Thanks a lot,
Thanks for reading me,
I'm glad I'm not.

-=-

Tuesday June 27, 1978

Moon's last quarter 12:44

I have been looking at my ancient diaries to see what I have done on June 27 in previous years and it has left me quite sad and reflective. One thing's for sure ~ June 27, 1978 isn't going to say anything outstanding.

This day in 1830 was a different matter altogether. On June 27, 1830 King William IV was proclaimed throughout the land and the bells pealed, as did the potatoes, carrots, and mangold wurzels. Poor William IV was probably an idiot. He was unpopular, and his only claim to fame is that he sired scores of children to an actress, Dorothea Jordan ~ and they all took the surname FitzClarence (William had been Duke of Clarence). His wife, Queen Adelaide, produced 2 sickly daughters who died in infancy. William's demise in 1837 after a thoroughly unstable and feeble reign saw the accession of Victoria the Great ~ his niece.





Ode to William the Fourth

Poor William,
You were stupid,
I've often been told so at least,
I think you were best in the navy,
You're the King I remember the least.

Bum!Bum!

-=-

Monday June 26, 1978

Christine phoned and we arranged to go out on Thursday evening. She has definitely set her heart on clearing off to Jersey next year to work in a bar. God knows how life will be without her bringing devastation and chaos to it. I must write to her soon because our correspondence is of vital historical importance. Since 1973 she's sent me over 70 witty, wonderful letters all of which I have stored away. One day we'll be bandied about in English Literature classes and on 'O' Level syllabuses with the likes of John Donne and E.M. Forster.

An Ode to Christine

You have for five years been a source of great joy,
You bring warmth to my heart which none can destroy.

Your virtues are many,
Your faults are quite rare,
But I'd never tell you,
I don't think I'd dare.

It's a pleasure to see you,
Of this I am sure,
My heart beats like fury,
I know of no Cure.

So, off to Jersey and see if I care,
I'd like to come with you,
But I don't have the fare.

M.L.R.

Sunday June 25, 1978

5th Sunday after Trinity

Excessively cold day. Had a very comfortable night's sleep. Woke at about 11. Grandad Glynn (minus dentures) made our breakfast of eggs and bacon.

The usual Stockport luncheon followed which consisted of about five pints between 12 and 2 with Garry, Dave and Billy. Billy goes on about his niece's wedding. Garry joked about my hilarious trousers. I'm definitely taking them on holiday after this reception.

Afterwards David, Mr Glynn and I watched a dreadful Tony Curtis film after which I was the only conscious survivor.

Before long it was the World Cup Final between Argentina and Holland. Bill and Garry came to watch. At half time with the score at 1-0 to Argentina the lads took me to Manchester where I boarded a coach full of rebellious children ~ nothing short of yobbos ~and off it was to Leeds.

Home by 10:30. Glenda Jackson's 'Touch of Class' was on tv. Poor Mum hasn't been too well. I am worried about her really.

David, Lynn and Dad have decorated the bedroom at Lawn Road.

-=-

Saturday June 24, 1978

Sun rises 04:44 Sun sets 21:22 St John, Baptist

Mum woke me at 6:30 and I got a train from Guiseley to town. My coach left for Manchester at 7:20am and I was with David in time for breakfast at about 10.

Mrs Glynn, or Auntie Lily, made me eggs and bacon and at opening time we had a few beers in the pool room. Grey skies above. I'm clad only in a thin shirt and my leather jacket.

At 12:30 to the Woodford Air Display.

Drizzle, frost, smog, &c. The Red Arrows were impressive and the Harrier Vertical take-off plane sent vibrations over our crate of Wembley Ale. Little else to take my mind from the perishing draught. Steve, Garry, & Dave loved the event though, as did about half a million other people for some obscure reason. However, five bottles of beer and a pile of corned beef and onion sandwiches helped to alleviate some of the misery.

Back to the Hollywood by 6. Slept in Dave's double bed until 9:30. At 11 we went to Rotter's disco for the night ~ me wearing the grey, narrow-legged trousers. I received some favourable attention. A couple of women followed me round all night. Back to the Hollywood at 1:30.

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