A close shave (From Watford Observer)

A close shave

10:25am Wednesday 3rd June 2009

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There are times in this job when you lose your temper. There are times when, in the heat of the moment, you use colourful language. Then there are the times when you want to pull out all of your hair, chew off your finger-nails and run screaming into the street beating your chest in sheer frustration while pulling off a passable impression of Tarzan.

Although such extreme tantrums are few and far between, I was forced to give the Tarzan option some pretty serious thought on Tuesday afternoon as I attempted to tease from the East and North Herts NHS Trust the rough (and I mean rough) location of the three latest victims of the “deadly” swine flu. Altogether now… DON’T PANIC!!!!!

“For reasons of patient confidentiality,” I was told that readers could only be informed of three cases in the North Herts, West Herts and Decorum areas.

“Could you be a bit more specific,” says I, attempting to squeeze at least a small amount of useful information from its spokeswoman.

“I’m afraid not,” came the reply. “We don’t want to identify the victims in any way.”

“Surely that won’t happen if you just give me a town – Watford for example?”

“I’m sorry but we can’t do that either”

“But there are 100,000 people [ish] in Watford. How is that possibly going to identify anybody?”

In days gone by one could reasonably expect that such a rational argument would carry some weight.

Sadly, in the modern world, where it seems all public officials are forced to undergo a common sense bypass before starting employment and Soviet style secrecy remains the norm, this really couldn’t be further from the truth.

Those among you with anything resembling 20:20 vision (a group, sadly, which no longer includes me) will doubtless have already viewed with interest the enclosed picture.

Yes, folks, that is a picture of me shearing a sheep. No, I’ve no idea how this particular activity came about either.

Nonetheless, this is me with Dolly (she actually didn’t have a name but please allow some artistic licence here) and Kiwi man-mountain-cum-sheep-sheering-tutor Tuck Hegarty – a man so extraordinarily manly as to reduce flimsy, soft-handed desk jockeys like myself to a state of self deprecating hero worship.

Tuck, an instantly likeable, no nonsense sort of bloke, works at the Willows Farm Village, London Colney, a venue I visited with our photographer on Sunday.

“I’ll just whip off her bikini line [that, apparently, is the area you definitely don’t want to cut] and let you have a crack,” he explained, squeezing the docile beast between his knees.

Needless to say, however, that sheep sheering is a lot (a very big lot) harder than it appears. I gave up pretty sharpish, suitably embarrassed and a little bit tired.

Finally, before any of the wags among you suggest I run the clippers through my own heavily matted locks I should, by the time you read this, have visited the barber’s chair ahead of a richly deserved week off. No emails please.

Don’t know about you but I love the circus. Absolutely bloomin’ love it. Always have done, always will.

I don’t mind telling you, then, that when I saw the signs for the Chinese State Circus (currently open in Radlett Road) I struggled to suppress a childish yelp of excitement.

The CSC, you see, is amongst the very best. For, what it lacks in dancing monkeys, ferocious lions and quick stepping elephants (apparently that’s regarded as cruel these days) it makes up for with an abundance of frankly mad, death-defying Oriental dare devils – a group which includes the positively insane monks of Shaolin.

This apparently peace-loving group scrape a living by – among other things – smashing concrete blocks from each others’ heads with sledge hammers.

Now that’s what I call entertainment.

Said activity, however, appeared too much for BBC Radio One last week, which had invited the lads on air to perform.

But sadly, presenter Scott Mills was forced into an embarrassing about face when panic-stricken health and safety execs suggested it might (just might) be a touch on the dangerous side.

Shame – such a stunning visual spectacle would surely have made for great radio. “THWACK”

“CRACK”

“……OWWWWCH”

“I think someone had better call 999.”