FastFreddy2

I am staggered someone would even try to pass these off as suitable to wear? Reminds me of the woman who sold me a pair of mismatched boots.... Do people not even bother to check what they post I wonder? Does the auction site now insist the seller now pay for their own return carriage once a S.N.A.D. case has been raised?

They look like they are coming apart? Is the sole covering detaching?

I would say auction sites benefit buyers, less so sellers. I've sold shoes for as little as £6. Time I pack them, get them to a Post Office, have paid seller fees, based on an hourly rate it would be cheaper to just give them away.... Which I have done with some. I struggled to sell a pair that should have gone quickly. I wouldn't be surprised to find I'd been trying to sell them -at decreasing prices- for nearly a year. They were a nice pair of suede (real suede) ankle boots from an international (American) 'brand'. Lovely boots, and the only reason I didn't wear them was a stitched seam crossed a toe joint. A blister was inevitable. They finally went, when I was able to px them against something more expensive with another seller.

I can understand that. I don't know why we aren't allowed to delete anything in our own gallery? I got around it for a while, by using Google Picasa, and then linking photo's in posts here, that could be looked at only if I allowed it. I'm sure there are others out there (Flickr) that do much the same thing?

"Karma", what is meant to be, will be. Perhaps a more attractive pair will come along soon?

There are one or two benefits to a singular life. Not having to hide a preferred dress style is one of them, though I realise your footwear choices are not hidden as such.

Thank you. Despite myself, I managed to get there -literally- at the minute the tickets had been booked for. More by luck than anything else, as I set off fairly late (as is my way). Getting parked close to the gaff was difficult, as there were roadworks and diversions all around the place. There was also a taxi driver behind who felt it necessary to 'beep' me at every turn, I guess because he was in a hurry to get somewhere? In some respects it was a shame I had heels on, or I would have been happy to have made him even later .... [If I had stopped and offered to help him fix his faulty horn, the narrow roads would have prevented him from getting past my vehicle.] The exhibition was rammed (busy). School age children, mostly (aspiring) girls possibly were in evidence, as were mum's and girlfriends. I could understand why they would limit entry to fixed periods, otherwise getting to see all the images would have been impossible. It wasn't altogether easy even with metered entry. It wasn't just the young who were present, but many older people too. I saw at least two women, who would have been 'stunners', perhaps 30 or 40 years ago, and weren't unattractive even though they were some years into retirement age. There were hundreds of pictures to look at. I REALLY didn't like the way details of the photo's were often several feet away from pictures. It made 'understanding' who and what I was looking at, (unnecessarily) difficult. My shock-of-the-day was finding out, how badly focussed many of the images were, and how often these badly focussed images were used in the magazine. Of course these errors were easier to spot when enlarged, but some unfocussed images were used that were not that hard to spot (if you were inclined to notice), even in magazines. There was one I saw, of a lady standing in a garishly opulent library. She with coat or dress and hat, with acres of books behind her. The only thing in focus was a bookshelf. A photo I really did like, was one of Princess Anne taken circa 1973. Made her out to be a really pretty girl. My walking friend had expected to spend an hour walking around, but although we had a quite sprightly dash around, it still took a good hour and a half. If there had been seating other than at the end of the chronologically arranged exhibits, we might have been tempted to loiter for longer. As it was, my companion (she with 20+ years of high heel wearing) could barely walk at the end of the viewing. Me wearing a 5" heel (spotted by several as I entered/exited the loo which had a suspended/trampoline floor) in shoes I hadn't worn for some time, hadn't exactly left me discomfort free either. As I've often said, if you want to experience pain wearing a high heel, stand still in them for a couple of hours. I think we were both slightly relieved to get back in the car for a sit down. Hard to say if there was great value-for-money at £17 each for 90 minutes, with a visit to a cinema being half that cost, but this was something -an experience- to be had perhaps once or twice in a lifetime. I can recommend it if you can make the time to go see it, but it might be better to go outside of school holiday periods. And consider taking some refreshment if you are used to drinking fluids frequently. We popped up to Oxford Street on the homeward journey for a very acceptable cup of coffee in John Lewis, and a quick browse at the footwear for my companion, before returning home. I had only taken the one pair of shoes with me, and walking in 5" heels along the uneven pavement from the parking space some 400 yards away, nearly did for me. It's one thing to walk with tired (unfit/untrained) ankles on the flat/even floor of (say) a shopping mall, quite another to attempt the same journey on what felt like lumpy and uneven cobbled pavement. Next time ....

This Thursday the 7th, I will be visiting the National Portrait Gallery. It's a favoured place, though I'm not always keen on 'Old Masters' (nods to Puffer. ) A Vogue (magazine) exhibition is on there at the moment, and time is running out to go see it. My walking companion who is something of a 'culture vulture' (despite being a Bruce Springsteen fan,) has made enough noise about going that I have succumbed to taking her. And I mean 'taking' quite literally. I'm reluctant to pay for these things though I will pay if it's something I really want to see, The arrangement is that I provide the transport and patience with the London traffic for what will probably be a 60-70 minute each way journey, and I get my ticket paid for. She will get ferried from door, to almost door and back, for less than the cost of train fare. Hopefully, a win/win situation. It might be my turn to pay for food though ... Oh well. We did meet up with a fellow heeler around two years ago at the same place. The cafeteria there was very nice. In the unlikely event anyone else would like to join us this time, you would be very welcome. I'm hoping there will be fashionistas there from time to time, and it maybe one or more will visit while I am there. Not that the pictures shouldn't be entertaining enough on their own.

You are right. Maybe new from the shop at £59.95, but I'm sure I've seen (new) for £34.50 some time ago. There is quite a high demand for Zara shoes though I think, as I seldom see them being offered at 'low' (bargain) money.

In the meantime (while you work out what's going wrong your end), your post doesn't make a lot of sense really? Don't we all know of some shoes that are being offered at more money than we think the are worth? These for £60? Without a picture, the comment is a bit .... vague? These were the shoes I used as a base for the wedges I 'mocked up' as Russ's "perfect shoe" BTW.

To include a picture of them, first copy the URL of the picture. [Open picture in Google Chrome, right click, select 'Copy image address'). Come back to your post. In 'Edit' mode, click on the option toward the bottom right-hand-side, "Inset other media", then choose "Insert image from URL". Paste previously copied URL from Ebay listing into pop-up address window. Select "Insert into post". The picture you saw on Ebay, should appear in your post. No need to download/upload.

As 'we' know, I will take photo's of high heeled shoes out in the world. There is a single exception to this, a man in his middle-to-late twenties, out shopping with a woman who I hope was his mother. He had the largest feet I have ever seen, ever! I have a photo taken I hope, with another foot close to his as a reference. I must dig it out. Lovely shoes too, but the size of a swimming flipper. He was quite tall, around 6' 3" maybe a tad higher, nice looking too. Is it true what they say about men with big feet ..... Owning a size 8, I don't really want an answer.

Do you two have green skin and climb beanstalks quite a bit? Shout "HO HO HO" all the time? I am almost 6 inches shorter .... Maybe I wear heels 'cos I need to?

I remember parking in that street, with the car in sight. It might have been 2002, and an outing for my new Clio, which was without any doubt a car with the worst build quality of any I've owned. A story for a different thread.

Apparently, I am becoming 'a bit of bore' talking about my plumbing adventures, so I will keep this reasonably short. (Haha.) My home is about 40 years old. Might be 45, but not as old as 50. That means my home was built during a time of great expansion in home building, leading to a shortage in copper (pipe) availability. To make it go further, not entirely suitable additions were made, that have not stood the test of time in the way everyone would hope. When we purchased the house, we were not told of any endemic problem, but I have since found some historic evidence of it. The problem is that some (if not all) the 22mm copper pipe used in the hot water supply side in my home, has corroded from the inside out. Heated water, has activated some chemical reaction in the 'unusual' blend of copper in this pipe. (As an aside, I have recently found a small hole in some 15mm hot water pipe too. Unsurprisingly, in a length below a section that had already been replaced, but the replaced pipe was hidden inside a 'boxed in' pipe run between floors.) Short of lifting carpets, taking wall coverings off, un-hiding boxed in pipe runs, this 'evidence' could not be seen by anyone doing a survey. While doing an autopsy to identify the cause might seem attractive, it won't change the problem. Bad copper mixes, or iron particulates are the main suspect, possibly leeching from a water heater, since the 'cold' pipework doesn't exhibit the same problem.... Thing is, we have suffered for several years with this, and the last visit from the 'leak fairy' meant even Job (spoken as Jobe) aka me, had come to the end of his patience. Shame it hadn't ended several years ago, I would have wasted less time doing remedial work to water damaged ceilings and walls.... (Duh.) So the bad pipe runs almost 5 meters along a ceiling void, and a further 2 meters down a wall (boxed in and behind then inside a kitchen unit) had to be replaced. It meant lifting bits of a bedroom floor, cutting up/through a kitchen unit. Initially the old 22mm pipework had to be removed, with access being almost non-existent. Happy days! I was tempted to use plastic, but I am concreted into using copper, though this is about to change. I also use solder unless access means a hot flame is dangerous, since I don't have a good record with compression joints. I started by isolation of the working hot water to the bathroom, as this pipework had already been replaced last year due to the same pipe-corrosion problem. Hot water was off to the lower floor for two days while I accessed the pipe route, 'dug it out', worked out a repair regime (in 15mm copper) and completed the repair scheme. I did have one little 'hiccup', in that I didn't do a very good job on what was the penultimate joint, that resulted in a leak. The joint was in the end corner of a kitchen unit, and against a wall. I had been concerned about heat damage, and not sufficiently warmed up the joint, which I can tell you is MOST unlike me. Having worked as a welder, I like to see stuff glowing. With the pipe run run full of water, and no way to drain it, I had to cut the join and sweat off the duff joints. I cleaned and pre'p them again, but decided I'd make life easier for myself (for once) and bought a pair of Hep2o 90 degree elbows the next day. Although all the other prep work had been done (including the intermediate 70mm length of copper pipe), once the elbows arrived in the room, it took less than 2 minutes to finish the job. And that included getting the elbows out of their plastic wrappers. Water on, no leaks. Yay! A side benefit to this change, is that hot water supplied in the 15mm pipe, arrives faster than with 22mm with less wasted residual cold water. Repairing the used/abused (soon to be skipped) kitchen units took a bit of time, since access took priority over ensuring the old/worn units were kept in good order. Full functionality has been restored, and the internal shelf won't need to be torn out to remove it next time either. Epilogue. It would seem copper pipes don't always last forever. I am warming toward plastic, and Hep2o in particular. Floplast has proved to be difficult if not impossible to disconnect, though their coloured lock collets are a nice idea. Speedfit is okay and I have used this, but disconnection is too easy and the joints are quite bulky. The Hep2o product is less bulky, more aesthetically pleasing and can't be released without the use of a key (so secure). Plastic, is a shed load quicker too. I have seen a couple (or three) installations by people who maybe have taken the time saving aspect a little too far, and not clipped the pipe anywhere. All three working examples looked untidy for that reason. I'm thinking that a mixture of copper and plastic might be the way forward. Epilogue II (The next chapter). I am currently 'fighting' my way into changing a 28mm outlet from a cold water tank, to a 15mm supply, since the tank provides indirect water to the hot water tank via a different route, and now, only supplies cold water to a sink that isn't used much. A length of 28mm diameter pipe was originally used to supply the bathroom, then move on around the rest of the house in 22mm. I have changed all but one sink to mains water, and recent experience has shown I should not take for granted that old pipework and fittings can tolerate higher pressures. (The connection to the washing machine in my case.) That 28/22mm pipe runs have to go, as they're all but redundant, and I want to recover the space the 28mm is using. Replacement with 15mm and a revised route seems like a prudent choice. As of this morning, I am no longer in love with copper in the way I was. While many will think it's a lifelong product, I now find it isn't in all circumstances. I'm aware this particular job would have been easier if I had remade the 28+22mm pipework in 15mm plastic. At the time, of making my original decision, I wanted to avoid using (at least) four 90 degree elbows that would be needed to complete the route. I would also have needed a way to accommodate a 40/50mm offset and a 95 degree bend, though much of this could have been avoided if I just snaked the pipe work where it needed to be, and forgot about any aesthetic appeal issue. (Meaning, forget the fact it look like a cowboy job.) Done mostly in copper, the job is a challenge, but will look okay when it's done. I have used push-fit for the reducers, because I don't own tooling (wrenches) for 28mm connections, and I already have a 22-15mm push-fit to hand. Both of these are Speedfit, bought on price and availability. (The 28-22mm item is a 28-22-22 tee that I've used after blanking off the second and unnecessary 22m outlet.) The final push-fit item is another 90 degree Hep2o elbow, that is connecting a vertical and horizontal, under a partition wall, and behind a toilet. I can see where the joint is to be made, but I don't want to remove the toilet to get at it. The push-fit connector is by far the simpler solution. It won't be long before I have installed pipe runs using (heavily clipped) Hep2o plastic.

Found it (I think). Rose, Royale, close enough. As for the "not being immediately linked to the main road along the promenade", and Piercing Shop, I may be confusing two venues/roads and have remembered them as a single road. And as previously surmised, double yellows down both sides of the road. They might have been there years, but I might equally be underestimating how long it's been since I ate there (by some considerable margin). I began my 10 year hiatus from cycling in November 2002, so my previous cycling visit would have pre-dated that. The two business visits I made around that time would have likely pre-dated that too. My two heeled visits, would have been post 2008 when I started wearing them in public, so likely 2009/2010 (ish), but I would not have been in Brighton early enough on either occasion to have had breakfast. While I didn't remember all that I could have perfectly, locating a venue I last saw 14-15 years ago in a place I'm not that familiar with, ain't too shabby. Conversely, while she has eaten there too, Mrs Freddy couldn't remember a single thing about the place.... 'Hunter/gatherer DNA", wonderful stuff.

Jeez, how would I feel? I've always liked tall girls .... Imprinting when I was 8 or 9? Anyway, I've had taller girlfriends and very much enjoyed them, in a carnal way. Had I known about 'the land of giants', who knows where I'd be now, or rather - who with? No ..... I would never have gone. I've had a long held theory about travelling for love. My thinking is; if you HAVE to travel more than 20 miles away from home, you are looking for/expecting to find the wrong person. While this won't relate (or appeal) to everyone, the people/personalities "you" grew up with, are most likely going to be the same people you will get on with throughout your life - if you are going to get on with anyone that long. Having a longterm relationship with someone outside your own cultural background must be a risky(er) business. It's not like longterm relationships have short odds at working anyway. I am NOT saying it can't or doesn't work, what I am saying is, the odds of success get longer. That said, I did have a French girlfriend (who lived locally to me) for a while, who I quite liked. But our 'cultural' differences pushed us apart. Meaning, she was happy to smoke dope when the chance arose (I went round one evening to find her and some bloke I'd never met before smoking it) and I'm pretty much not into drugs. To the point I have several, if not many, unused prescriptions from the doctors I've never used. [Duh!]

And the prize goes to ..... Kylie, every "heel-man's" dream girl. I have access to a bunch of Serbian's with dual nationality. I have mentioned working in a landlords house for some time? I am there again tomorrow (Thursday). These chaps are Serbian, but because they can speak Hungarian, they can get Hungarian passports, which allows them here. They are a nice bunch, and I get on particularly well with two of them. (The more mature two as it happens.) I could ask? One of the chaps is really tall, the others, not so tall. The tall fella has a girlfriend I have met, and she's not so tall either. Not short but she's 5'7" maybe 5'8" tops. One of my pairs of Covergirl shoes went to Norway..... One of what used to be a regular contributor here, comes from there too.

Given the height of Australia's two famous siblings, both well known for wearing high heels, would you say the ladies were generally shorter over there? And were the boots closed or open toe? I ask because the open toe variant has been surprisingly popular here, despite it being winter and usually wet.

I can say with some authority, 'photography' was never something I could ever consider "easy". Having spent years mastering the craft (in the technology of the day) there was often as much 'post' work as preparation. While I'm happy to 'snap' people in a heel or wearing interesting clothing with a digital camera, reportage is a matter of being in the right place at the right time, though I would think Ansel Adams (and his followers) might say being in the "right place at the right time", can take months. As I've said before, I'm significantly happier in a studio anyway, where I can get what I'm after without waiting for the sun/wind/rain/temperature to let me capture an image. As for the matter of wedding photographers and contractual 'rights', I might offer: I can easily understand a set of circumstances no other photography was "allowed" at a booked wedding. Back in the day (30+ years ago) wedding photographers would have been employed under at least two auspices. 'Employed' for the afternoon/evening at a fixed rate, and £500-£800 wouldn't have been unusual. Sales from photo purchases, would have gone on top. Wedding albums would have earned an extra £300, plus anything for the in-laws at £10/£20 a pop. Good money, but maybe only working 4 months of the year? A second scenario, which I deplore, was the use of sub-contracted photographers. These would be people brought in at no cost save an 'appearance fee' with sales of pictures producing the vast bulk of any income. The chances were, you had no idea of the probable quality of the images, nor how well you would enjoy the photographer at your wedding. Stress and tension can have an unpleasant effect on some body types which isn't always possible to keep discreet. (B.O.) When someone turns up 'as ordered' and unpaid, you can see why the Agreement might include the absence of any competition for sales? In this situation, as long as someone turned up with a camera, there'd be no "breach of contract" either. A solution I read about that seemed quite novel, was the returnable 'gift' to each guest, of a disposable film camera. The idea being, 50 guests, 50 snappers. One good photo from everyone, would produce enough images for a large album, at a fraction of the usual price. Ain't nostalgia wonderful?

Sadly, that is not it. I'm not sure if it was a 'veggie' gaff, but the brekkie I travelled a 100 miles for, was a veritable 'veggie' feast that meant I ate little else all day. From what I remember ..... It was 3 or 4 hundred yards up a street, perpendicular to the beach BUT, the road didn't lead directly to the main road that runs the length of the promenade. It was also to the West of the pier. The café façade was painted a dark maroon, that could be described as 'the colour of dried blood', and might have been next to another eatery that was much busier. Not far up from these two was a junction with a road that ran parallel to the promenade. The road outside the café ran down a slope that led toward the beach, and toward the bottom of the slope was (i recalled) a tattoo parlour. While writing, I realise it may have been a piecing parlour, as I distinctly remember seeing this type of jewellery displayed in what was a black (pseudo gothic) façade? They didn't open on Sundays. At the time, I parked in the road almost opposite the café, where doubtless yellow lines now live. For some reason, I'm thinking the word "Rose" might have been part of their name? Might fit in with the colour scheme. I had in mind, my parents would live in an annexe close to me, if not next to me. It needed financing, and this was to be done by them 'buying' a property they had paid for several times over during their (then) 45-50 years of residency. My mother wouldn't agree, so she lives alone away from the family and gets infrequent visits. Had the same idea for the mother-in-law, and to avoid any notion of greed, thought all her children's families could share the mortgage burden (if there was one) with one of the families being able to enjoy a 'leg-up' when the property was sold on - whenever that might be. Nope again. Consequently, these two elderly folk paid council rent for 60+ years with absolutely zilch to show for their money. Worse (IMO) is there is no legacy for their children from the money spent. Yes they got a roof over their heads, but they could have had that and got double their money back (if not more). As for the Welsh over-charging the English on their part-time homes, nothing surprises me there. At least they've stopped burning them down.

Just as a point of clarity, and in hindsight .... This fella wasn't a full-time photographer, but a keen (and well invested) amateur. His income was banking or something like it. He had plenty of free time and a lovely home as I recall. So, plenty of opportunity (and equipment) to do better than the school photo, which was un-purchasable - IMO. The difference between a 'snapper' there to record an image, and in my view 'an artist', is that the artist will attempt to provide a story or detail for the image. I have suggested it's an 'artist' who attempts to convey some of the sitters character in a portrait? Taken to a ridiculous degree (for the benefit of the explanation); A sitter/subject with a great sense of humour, might be photographed wearing a clowns outfit, while doing the gardening perhaps. The immediate effect suggesting humour in the sitter/subject. The 'nouveau' approach (care of Instagram or FB) would have the subject/sitter falling off something (boat - dock) while on holiday perhaps? In the example I provided above, the sitter had a small interest in weights, to build upper body strength I suspect. It meant I immediately associated him with dumbells, which he had, and one of which we used as a prop. The image wouldn't be out of place sitting on a wall at Arnold Schwarzenegger's home, but this was a 15/16 year old school kid.... Lighting was dramatic, and I even sprayed him with water to infer sweat while 'working out'. It couldn't have been further from the school photo in the portrayal of the lad. The image was obvious to me .... Why wasn't something similar done by his dad who didn't have to make anything like the effort I did to get that image, or maybe one even better? With that in mind, it's perhaps easier to understand why you get the work that might have been cheaper done by someone local, but who typically provides an inferior product (image). You have an eye for a pleasing image.

I haven't been for a couple of years, if not a bit longer. I am overdue a visit, if for no other reason than to acquaint myself with the promenade while riding a bicycle. I've tried to use Google Street to find the gaff I used to go to for a veggie breakfast, with no success. I'm hoping my male based DNA is still good enough to locate the street from memory.... What memory? I find Soho quite an entertaining place, though I also recognise what seems to be an 'air' of menace too. Islington is a big place. Were it not for the parking, I might still visit two restaurants we used to frequent just off of Upper Street. 'Discovered' some time ago, while reminiscing the whereabouts of Covergirl (the shop). With the increasing number of people arriving on our shores, both legal and illegal, this can only get worse. I am SURE, we will be reading about families sharing homes soon, if it doesn't happen already. I very nearly converted my current abode to a 'home+granny annex' but got talked out of it by Mrs Freddy, probably with good reason at the time. My take on property prices is that if you are not on the ladder now, you may never be. My brother-in-law had the opportunity of buying his council semi some years ago. He and his wife had probably paid for it anyway, since they had been tenants for some years, at least 15. They decided not to buy, thinking council rents were 'easier' and they had security of tenure. A mortgage would have been affordable, but they preferred the tenancy. Perhaps 10 years later, the market (meaning sale) value of the property has more than trebled, if not quadrupled. They could never afford to buy now, nor could any of their 3 children. Because they have not bought, there is no 'lift' onto the ownership ladder from a legacy. Councils are not as free to adjust rents as private lets, but they do follow the private sector. The rent these people pay now, has greatly surpassed what their mortgage would be today, assuming they still had a mortgage to pay. (If the mortgage was small enough, they might have paid it off early.) While their rent is still around half that of a private landlord might charge, it still seems expensive to me. They are in a 3 bed semi, with two of their three children already out the door. If the third child leaves, they will be pressured to move, or pay a premium for being there.

At our wedding, the photo's were done by what would otherwise be known as a (minor) 'celebrity photographer', back in the days when I had some money. (He'd done a TV show, sort of fly-on-the-wall gig, and had some well-known clients.) He was very personable, and made everyone comfortable, including the bride. Sadly the pictures were a bit pedestrian. Beautiful day, perfect little country church, which I think we had for the whole afternoon. Lovely. I suppose things might have been a bit livelier if we had been younger. This was my first (and only ~ as I'll never do it again) rather unexpected marriage that happened in my middle years. There weren't many youthful looking people around. Even my cousins had (their) children with them.... It was first time for the bride too. At the time we were both pleased with our match, though I suspect Mrs Freddy is less pleased than she was, sadly. The coffers are not as full as they were, and she lives in a building site, rather than a pleasant home. Her disappointment is justified, though I try to make it up with my charm and charisma. I think she's rather have carpets ...

One assumes .... Without heels? (How disappointing. ) Little story .... (More than 25 years ago....) In the course of her business, my girlfriend provided me with an opportunity to meet a "fellow photographer". Nice man, successful, wealthy. One of his children had recently (to our meeting at his home) had a school photo taken. I was shown the photo. Spotty 15/16 year old kid in school uniform, looked ghastly. Temperature of the photo was way too cool which made the spots look even angrier. His father (photographer) hadn't done anything to improve on it at all. He showed me his "kit". I don't remember more than one camera (I always used two - one loaded with XP1), but he had more lenses than I could count at a glance.... I've never owned more than 3 prime lenses, and generally use one. The upshot to this meeting was, I would return with some strobes, and take some piccies. All arranged, and I arrived.... Now you would think with a photographer coming around, I'd be given some space? Nope. I was at one end of the upstairs landing, the subject was practically kneeling in his bedroom doorway, and his mother held the (any port in a storm) black velvet background behind him. While I was disappointed with the props and space given to me (mindful of who I was doing this for) the image worked. In fact it worked better than I could have imagined given the circumstance. Remember, this would have been film, so I would have to wait until the negs were processed before finding out what the final image was going to look like (exactly). Anyway, I was pleased, as was the family. The kicker ... So maybe a year later, possibly two, my mate who has seen my portfolio bumps into my junior subject while out with people in Brighton. He asks this young fella if his mate (me) had taken juniors photo a year or two previously. "Yes" was the reply, and the conversation just about ended there.... So my mate tells me about this, and says, "If someone you didn't know, recognised you a 100 miles from where you live, wouldn't you want to know how they knew you?" My reply, "Yes of course." Not this young man, evidently. I suppose when you are famous, you have to limit your contact with the public?