No time for blogging

In addition to previous list must blog about not seeing Paul McCartney, Lily's apple, last night's not-meeting.

Oh and here is October 1984, Part 1. I had just started in Lower Sixth of the same school I had attended for five years. Certain characters - Kathy, Clare, Siobhan, in particular - had gone off to Sixth Form Colleges in Manchester; the forms had been rejigged; we were studying the subjects we chose for A-Level, plus General Studies, RE and PE..., plus any extra O-level subjects we chose to do.

I went to Pure Maths. I was rather late. Andrea M and Caroline claim that Cliffie was eyeing me up. That’s Andrea and Caroline for you! RE was really boring – except for the chats with Maureen, Fran and Andrea Bl about social life.
I did a few Maths calculations for my own amusement.

Today has been one of those days that I have been perfectly content, without being deliriously exuberant. I have no real worries and the work has been fairly stimulating. In Government, Heneh and Gabrielle were commenting on the week’s news. We discussed the miners’ strike quite animatedly.

History was fine – we did the Congress of Aix-la-Chapelle and the riots in Italy and Spain during 1820, and the start of Methodism in Britain. In boring RE we did boring Buddhism.

In Stats we had a good laugh. Cliffie was giving us problems from a really sexist textbook. One of the questions was “There’s a family, mother and father, and ten sons…”
“My god!” exclaimed I. “They must have been trying for a daughter…”
“… and run out of steam after those ten,” added Cliffie, and then continued with the problem. “Out of these twelve they have to choose four representatives…”
“…for Ask the Family,” I said. I think that Cliffie’s reaction showed that his opinion of Ask the Family is somewhat similar to mine.

I watched the Six O’clock News. The Labour Party Conference have voted for a unilateral disarmament policy, as advocated by Neil Kinnock and the NEC and opposed by Denis Healey and Jim Callaghan.

Before school, I helped Andrea with her Further Maths homework (incidentally, I got it right). After Hymn Practice we had a quick talk from Mrs Mc and Caroline J in U6 about a competition run by the Hansard Society to write, produce etc a radio programme.

In Government we got our monarchy essays back. I got an A-, which is better than the B I got for Peterloo. In Pure Maths, he gave us back that awful homework. I got 5, no not out 20, but 10.

In the evening I discovered that the Bibliography is missing from my O Level History Project – some scum in 4th or 5th Year must have nicked it.

Before school saw Mrs Mc about my missing bibliography. She was a bit annoyed to say the least, and asked me to ask around to see who else had missing bibliographies. During the day we discovered fourteen or fifteen other people, and most people hadn’t even checked.

In European History, Mr S gave us our Congress of Vienna essays. He gave me fifteen on twenty five, remarking underneath “Good try, G, you have good style and the right idea.” We should be worried about marks less than 12.

At lunchtime I went to a meeting over the Hansard Society /BBC Competition to produce a radio programme on current affairs. We’re doing the 300 Group. My job is to search out Ann Taylor, former MP for Bolton.

I heard the Sportsnews. In the next round of the UEFA Cup we play PSV Eindhoven. I think they’re Belgium.

I watched a Week in Politics on Channel Four. They featured Behind the Scenes organisation at the Labour Party Conference on Composite motions. Fascinating.

I read – and, yes, try and believe this if you can – I reached the end of that book that fabulous book – by that incomparable author RF Delderfield. Yes you’ve guessed it, Theirs Was the Kingdom.

In my free lesson I read the New Statesman.

I watched the News at Ten – only I missed the second half because Mother and Father decided that they would have a row with Pauline. God knows why – it just doesn’t seem worth all the hassle, all the aggro, all the meaningless, repetitious drivel. All it means is that Pauline and I have no respect for them.

After break we had PE. We did netball the whole time. It was great. I've added to the dimensions of netball. Flinging myself at the ball in order to get it, I sort of missed, instead flinging myself to the ground. I kept throwing it into the semicircle, thinking that Ruth or Janet could rush in and get it. Poor old Sam had to rush in each time.

In Registration Mrs Pathetic was going on about her brand of religion. We were very good inasmuch as we didn’t laugh, but I, for one, was close. Nobody met the eyes of anybody else, least of all Mr S. He looked as if he was going to laugh.

RE was really boring. We did another of Miss J’s tedious worksheets – this one on Islam.

Today, I proved my theory that although I hear things on the six thirty news, I don’t take them in. For instance, the major item I forgot until it came up for discussion in the Common Room. A bomb went off at the Tory Hotel (the Grand) in Brighton. Thatcher was working – it was about three o’clock. Her bathroom was totally destroyed. Norman Tebbitt was trapped for three hours, after falling three floors down. His wife and the Chief Whip have been in Intensive Care. One MP is missing.

I had a blazing row with Louise in Italian (I assume this means in the Italian lesson, rather than actually in the language we had been studying all of five weeks) and she’s not speaking to me now.

The News was mainly to do with the IRA explosion in Brighton. You do wonder about the mentality of such people. I mean, I’m not an admirer of the Government but I would never consider attempting to annihilate them by cold-blooded violence. Quite apart from humanitarian and compassionate reasons – and they are sufficient enough – in pure practical terms, it would be an absolute waste of time. All this type of action does is to draw attention to your cause, but it’s not even favourable attention. It merely strengthens the resolve of the government to combat your type of terrorism, so you gain nothing. Supposing Margaret Thatcher and Norman Tebbitt (the man widely tipped as a natural successor to Thatcher) had been killed – both came very close, obviously I have mentioned Tebbitt’s broken legs and chest injuries. Well, Maggie escaped death by minutes – her bathroom was destroyed and she had been in it only moments before the explosion. Well, if she had died, someone following the same policies, perhaps even more severe due to the assassination. What gain? Nothing.

If you had said to me twenty-four hours ago that I would be filled with pity for the Trade and Industry Secretary, I would have laughed in your face.
(marginalia– Dear Gert this sounds a little unlike you love Gert 11/10/85)

Today has been fantastic. I went out to town. All I did in town was go to Central Library. After I had finished there, I caught the bus to Old Trafford. Having entered the ground, I sat down (at the Stretford End) and read my United Review. When I finished that I started reading a biography of Metternich, but didn’t get very far because my friends from Longsight arrived, and I was chatting to them. They’re great, especially Ashouk.

(Lots and lots of narrative and analysis of the match – United beat West Ham five nil).

At lunchtime I chatted to Andrea. Louise was around but she’s till in a sulk over me. The poor thing. To be candid, I don’t give a fart. If I have a disagreement with someone like Andrea or Judy (well, I don’t have disagreements all that often with Jude) it really upsets me. I feel as if I've hurt them and want to make it up. But Louise, no. I just wish for her sake she would grow up.