Still seems like yesterday

Dear diary, I know I'm older and wiser, but when I managed to find you up in the attic, it helped me remember things, I had become unsure of, like years and dates, now I've found you, I can look back on 1972, as if it were yesterday, when I didn't have a care in the world and never worried about anything, until it was too late.

I'd just turned eighteen, also passed my driving test and bought my first car, second hand hillman Imp, that was my pride and joy, for the first time in my life, I felt like I had real independence, no longer having to depend on taxies, buses, or
of course my dad for lifts.

I know I was a bit of a rebel back then, my eighteenth birthday, will go down in history as one of the most memorable,
but not for all the right reasons I might add.

Mum and Dad decided they would let me have a party at home, they would go out for a meal and leave me to run things. 'Big mistake!' I can hear you saying to yourself. It would have been fine, if a friend of mine, I'll call her Maggie,
hadn't bought along another friend, who happened to be a
vicars daughter, with her boyfriend, who was dressed like a
pirate, with a big black hat on, I remember he had long black
hair and was very tall, he wore knee high boots, with his trousers tucked inside, he didn't say much, but I found him to
be scary, but Maggie said he was fine, so I gave him a chance,
deciding not to condemn him, before I really got to know him.

The party was going well, most of my friends were into the
same kind of music as me, so we had a ball, singing along to
Wishbone Ash, we knew all the words to their records and were all crazy for Ted Turner and Andy Powell, but I preferred
Ted Turner at the time, then there was Genesis...Hawkwind...
we freaked out a lot in those days, drank a lot of cider, lager and captain morgan's rum, which my young friend Maggie
introduced me to. The ironic thing about that was, she was
only fifteen going on sixteen, although her mum said I was a
bad influence on her, she was much more wild than me, but more secretive about it.

Anyway I remember the vicar's daughter's boyfriend, found
my dad's drinks cabinet, although my dad had locked it, the guy somehow found the key, he had opened the door and taken out all the whisky...gin...port...brandy and anything else he could find. He then proceeded to go out in the garden with his stash of booze, with his girlfriend and some others who thought it would be fun to down the lot in one go.

You can guess what happened next? when my parents returned, it was pretty scary, they had thrown up in my dad's
garden, which was his pride and joy, they'd knocked down a
wall and trampled through my mum's flower bed, then to top
it all, they were up on my mum and dad's bed having sex. I
had never seen my dad cry, until this moment. There were no
more parties at home for me after that, I can't say I blame them either.

But 1972 held many more episodes besides my birthday, of
which dear diary, I will continue to be reminded of....