Fifty years on: Sunday, May 30th, 1976,
(Sedbergh, age 14)
The morning began with some reading- if you can call it that. It was a copy of Mayfair. We have a dorm stash of these things. If you need to know, the fund lets us buy a new mag each month. A different boy choices the title. We’re all too young to be purchasing these things but the shop owner doesn’t say a thing. With 450 boy customers from the school to serve he’s quids in. Mayfair, Penthouse and Men Only, our favourites. Playboy is too American and the woman featured too Las Vegas; the likes of Hustler are so crude they put you off the entire idea of human reproduction as a leisure activity.
Then I went to brass band practice, though it was a bit chaotic because many people were missing or turned up late. We worked on the music for the fireworks and also practised Twigles’ piece.
During Chapel, I found a way to relieve my boredom – I had a squash ball that I squeezed throughout the service. A firm grip will come in handy.
Back at the House, I decided to send away for a hi-fi magazine, curious to learn more about the best audio equipment which I cannot afford.
Lunch, then off to the Project Centre, where I cleaned up my wooden cassette rack. It was a bit wonkyy, but I all my cassettes fit nicely.
Later, I played squash with friends from my year, starting with Branston, then P.J., followed by Hammers, who is a year above me.
A bath followed. To myself. Though the bath is one of six in a communal washroom. After rugby two or three boys will share a bath, legs nonchalantly draped over the sword of the bath as the mud is soaped off.
That evening, in the common room, we (at least a dozen boys ages 14-18) settled in to watch a film featuring Goldie Hawn in Cactus Flower. I remember the line, “a man who lies cannot love”. Walter Matthau is as old as my dad. She is not older than my big sister. There’s a grownup relationship for you. At some stage your girlfriend could catch the eye of any man alive (even your father).
I ended up falling asleep while watching it.
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