I'd been putting some dog 'unmentionables' in the bin, when I was approached by a man of about 35 years old.
"Excuse me Sir, is your name 'Hutchinson' by any chance?". He asked.
"No, I'm afraid not" I replied.
"I'm looking for someone, and I thought you looked a bit like him" he said.
"Not me" I replied "It would be extremely surprising if I was him; with all the number of people around!"
"Well, I thought I'd ask anyway; you do look very much like the person I'm looking for".
"Have your tried any of the Social Media sites, such as Facebook?" I suggested.
"Yes, I've done all that, but nothing".
"Well, I wish you luck with your search" I said, whilst turning to go.
"He's my BLOODY FATHER" he suddenly screamed at me, "and I haven't seen him since my 12th birthday".
Only then did I realise that he was possibly an escapee from Broadmoor. I put Billy on his lead and we walked slowly away, just occasionally looking around to see that he wasn't following me with a Machete.
Sometimes I feel quite anxious about strangers. This was one such occasion!
Mrs T's 'Care in the Community' never worked, and it never will. Bring back those 'Homes for the mentally disturbed'.
5 comments:
Are you sure your name is not Hutchinson?
Best to check ... to be on the safe side...
It's not even close to my name, but I don't suppose he was even looking for someone with that name anyway. He was a nutter.
Makes you a bit anxious about talking to strangers.
You have a problem with a machete. This poor man said probably the truth. I have a friend who tries to find his father who left his mother when pregnant with him for more than 15 years.Some men are clwards to assume their child.
Completely off topic, Cro, but Eric Idle has a book coming out in the fall. I’ve read the first chapter and ordered the book. Thought you might be interested. Here is the blurb
In 1971, at the beginning of Monty Python mania, Eric Idle bought a crumbling ruin in the hills of Provence. With no electricity, no water, no road, and no plan, he set out to transform the neglected stone shack into what he lovingly calls a shackeau.
Idle in Provence is the story of the transformation of both the place and the man. Against the sun-drenched backdrop of southern France, Idle penned iconic songs and scripts, hosted a revolving door of eccentric and brilliant friends—George Harrison, Robin Williams, Paul Simon, and others—and found a rare kind of peace far from the madness of showbiz. Equal parts memoir, travelogue, and comedy masterclass, the book is filled with laugh-out-loud moments, tender reflections, and the kind of sharp, self-deprecating wit only Idle can deliver.
As he reflects on love, loss, friendship, and joy, Idle paints a vivid portrait of a place that became more than a home—it became a sanctuary. The story spans decades. It’s a love letter to France, to old friends, and to the wild, unpredictable journey of being alive.
Along the way, readers are treated to behind-the-scenes glimpses of Eric Idle’s creative output, candid memories of fame, and thoughtful meditations on life, purpose, and the legacy of laughter.
Charming, cheeky, and unexpectedly moving, Idle in Provence is Eric Idle at his best—hilarious, candid, and unforgettable.
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