INGRID IS SEVENTEEN
T H U R S D A Y, 1 7 A U G
Ma and Chump came and woke me up at 7.30, and we opened presents in their room. They’re fab, I’m so pleased with all of them. Daddy’s was a record player – he got it yesterday! It’s huge and plays 8 records at a time. I spent most of the morning arranging my jewellery in my new box and putting a picture of Polnareff in my new locket. I also got a Japanese doll, Japanese pebbles, a belt with a purse, a knife shaped like a fish, and a record by Zouzou from Chump.
Grandma and Grandpa came for tea. Mummy made fab chocolate shortbread, chocolate cake, and almond cake with lemon icing. Grandma was bore-ish, and Grandpa told me something that horrifies me - in the Bible it says that black men are inferior to the whites and were made to serve them. That Bible has done more harm than good, it’s been the reason for the death of millions of Jews throughout the centuries and that’s nothing to be proud of. I’ve come to the conclusion I’m an agnostic because religion is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of.
I’m fed up I’m 17 – it feels much older than 16. I’m not a child any more.
Saw last half of T.O.T.P. 'All You Need is Love' isn't No. 1 any more, but a ghastly song called ‘San Francisco’, all about flowers.
Changed into Scallywags dress and drove to the London Steak House; Dad joined us at 8.30. Such a shame he had to go to Scotland today, he was tired. We had a fab meal - tomato soup with cream on top; sole and chips; and a chocolatey mousse thing called Semi Freddo.
In August a song written by John Phillips of the Mamas & Papas, sung by Scott McKenzie and dedicated to the veterans of Vietnam, shot to the top of the charts. ‘San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)’ became the anthem of the counterculture movement, as the flower children of San Francisco came to epitomise the hippy dream.