So there I was quietly minding my own business on the Saturday evening train from York to Kings Cross, when the woman opposite launched into conversation. 'Do you know you look like Leslie Crowther?'
I looked astounded. Indeed, I was astounded. 'You know who I mean, Leslie Crowther', she persisted. 'You mean the one on Crackerjack', I replied - immediately labelling myself as from the Jurassic era (if I'd have said 'The Price is Right' or 'Stars in their Eyes', at least I would have been Old Testament, or perhaps even early medieval). 'Yes', she said, showing signs of losing interest - 'actually when you were looking down you looked like him, you don't so much now.'
I blushed - partly out of embarrassment at being likened to Leslie Crowther in a full-to-capacity train carriage, and partly shame that I clearly didn't live up to my allotted role.
Relating this anecdote to my astonished household - none of them has ever heard of Leslie Crowther, the astonishment being that someone opened up a conversation on the train - one close relative, who cannot be named on this blog without specific permission which has neither been sought nor given, offered to take a photo to help the world at large assess the likeness.
Within the family, the conclusion seems to be that it's hardly surprising no one has spotted the similarity hitherto. But I'll give you the final word ...
Andrew Whitehead's blog
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