Space invader

Totally depressing morning and afternoon, overnight snow only adding to the dead end atmosphere. I was incredibly bored, and everything was claustrophobic. Nanna P. arrived at about one and was again in raucous good form, and so the day continued until six-thirty when I left for Easterby and my evening out with Lee. He and Wiechec got on the same bus as me at Lodgehill, both looking quite odd in their matching military-style peaked caps.

We started out at the Polish club up Honeywell Road. Andy's brother Jonas was there, along with Vic Banasiak, who I hadn't seen since Lodgehill Middle days of '77. He's now a real man who smokes and is into heavy-metal. “Fucking hell, when are you going to stop growing?” were his first words on seeing me for the first time in four years. Several older men were dressed in traditional Polish costume of baggy trousers, ankle boots, and white braided blouses and Jonas wore one of these outfits too but looked quite ridiculous because he’s really thin. We played darts for a while in the seedy stairwell by the bar along with a friend of Andy and Vic's, a quiet lad called Mick.

After an hour or so we left for the Viceroy lower down the street. It's a really crummy Pakistani curry house and its bare, graffiti adorned games room was sparsely patronised. We played pool, Space Invaders and generally just ‘enjoyed’ the atmosphere. I loved the recklessness feeling of it all and how it felt a bit below board somehow.

We walked back home through the slushy streets of Lockley and a misty Woodhead Park and at Lodgehill I left Andy and Lee who cut down towards Three Locks Road, and I got home by eleven. Watched Universal Soldier, a hippy film from 1971, which was pretty good.

Super 8

Lee brought his ciné camera in to use up the film from London and so most of our three free periods we filmed each other. We went down into the English block and I knocked on Slicer's door and asked if we could have a word; as she came out Jeremy squirted her with a squeezy bottle of water with Lee filming. I’ve never seen her move so fast! Also, Peter Wood told me that his third year sister fancies me. I commiserate.

The evening was aimless and annoying. I entered a Lloyd’s Bank competition the first prize of which is a nineteen-day holiday in China. I’m confident I answered the questions right, so maybe! Lee rang and I'm meeting him and Andy Wiechec, who I haven’t seen since 1977, near Elmet Baths at seven tomorrow. We’re going to a café, the sleazy sounding Viceroy Club, to play pool.

Love

I was really tired today and it was difficult waking up, and I eventually got up just as Mum left for work at eight. Shades of Friday first period, Deborah and Claire in flirty moods again, especially with Duncan, who Deborah teased by claiming Claire fancies him. I felt low, but a bit better during Slicer's English lesson. I talked a bit more and for once really enjoyed it as we talked about the differences between friendship and love. I said that friendship was merely a diluted form of love, but Duncan refused to accept this for some reason. More silliness afterwards, Claire and Deborah disappearing for long periods, giggling about Tony and Michael and again plunging me into the a pit of worthlessness. During Art I sat next to Julie Crabtree, who’s eager to talk. She kept singing “I want to make love to you. . . .” I wish she wouldn’t.

A nothing evening.

Old leather

The ‘phone was supposed to wake me up at five but it didn't and it was Mum who finally did. Everything weird and silent and dead. I enjoyed the walk over to Deakin’s house, and after waiting in a quiet hush for him to get ready, he got his Mum’s car and we drove down into Easterby. I was envious that he can drive. Mark Pittock was the only one waiting in the near deserted Holdsworth Square station, but within half an hour everyone else had turned up and we all trooped up to the train. Changed at Whincliffe and took a 125 straight down to London. Lee, Richard, Mark, and Rich Houlding & I played cards on the way down while Duncan and Tommy sat off at the end of the carriage with Angela.

We got in at about half nine and took a tube from King’s Cross to Westminster where we met Leslie Tyndall MP, who first showed us round the House of Lords, which is especially lavish. The elaborate ornamentation inside surprised me really, and I don’t know what I expected but it came as a real surprise. This strengthened my feeling that this undemocratic institution should be abolished. We did the rounds in two groups, and I was in the group without Duncan. Mr. Ingham seemed fascinated. The House of Commons was next and quite as I’d imagined it – musty and Cromwellian, with lots of wood and old leather. The whole set up had a right-wing, pro-establishment flavour to it, and all the formalities, rules and etiquette made it seem so out of touch. How can MPs really care about two-and-a-half million unemployed when they're cut off inside this museum-like chamber? The plight of the unemployed must seem so distant.

We were done at half-eleven and released into the streets. Lee had brought along his ancient ciné camera and he filmed us sporadically as we wandered around in a big group. Duncan and Angela wanted to see 10 Downing Street and so we all marched off to stand pointlessly around that gloomy house before going to St. James’ Park to eat. Lee filmed the seagulls as they flew in low or hovered in twos and threes, flapping around us as we threw bread into the air. We trekked up the Mall, past Buck House and on to Victoria tube station to Oxford Circus. I wanted to see Foyle’s and we walked up Oxford Street's vast length, jostling through the crowds and starting to flag a bit as not a bookshop was to be seen. But eventually we reached Claude Gill books, where we browsed a while. There was a Virgin record shop opposite which was enormous, and they had every conceivable record in there: all the Santana tour albums, every Weather Report album, all the Return To Forever albums and Grover Washington records galore. After choosing several albums and changing my mind several times I eventually decided on “Mister Magic.” I felt chuffed. We finally found Foyle’s, ate at McDonald’s and got back to Kings Cross for six as scheduled.

Back home by ten after a boring journey. It’s been a good day, and I’ve enjoyed it, but you’ll never guess what . . . “Mister Magic” jumps!! I feel totally depressed.

Coup

Got up late. Mum out, Dad in bed. Unlike yesterday I achieved nothing. The snow is thawing, and I spent most of my time reading or making notes on Stalin. It was announced today that Lady Diana Spencer and Chas are going to marry in July and this spewed out of the TV all evening; views of the ground staff at Sandringham popping champagne corks, interviews with the happy couple (which I saw three times). I’m bored already.

When the Echo arrived at five the news was splashed across the front page. As Dad was reading it I idly asked, “How much will that cost us?” Dad reacted predictably. “Oh shut up!” Of course in no time at all we were involved in a quite violent argument and he really flared up when I said that the monarchy was immoral. We argued about loads of other things apart from the monarchy. Soon enough though the sharpness softened into congenial, half-serious attacks. Mum says I’ll change. “Robert was just as communistic when he was your age.”

I was interested to see the attempted coup in Spain on TV, and I’ll have to ask Leslie Tyndall MP for Farnshaw about this tomorrow, as we are going on a school trip to the Houses of Parliament. I wonder whether it would be easy to take over Parliament? Are there any safeguards?

Five o’clock start tomorrow.