Local NuttersEverywhere in the world has its fair share of deranged people. I grew up in Wolverhampton and remember the Polish tramp who lived in a tent on the roundabout. Legend had it that his coat was stuffed with cash. More recently I notice the guy who spends his day pushing a trolley round Camden Sainsburys shouting, "Best of luck!". Constantly. Tell us about your local nutters. Points for details. Extra points for photos.
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rob, Thu 16 Sep 2004, 11:54)
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Madness abroad...Firstly, and I apologise if this has already been mentioned, the mad lady on the central reservation in O'Connell street, Dublin.
She thoroughly entranced our rugby team when we went on tour there, wearing a faded purple velvet jacket and dancing like a ballet dancer to the patriotic irish music blasting from the tourist shops.
According to a friend of mine she's there in all seasons and is a bit of a hero to the locals.
Back in Bolton we have just had a spate of *Drunk Tramp Busking";
Ingredients:
1 Drunk tramp
1 guitar with a few strings
a handful of queen lyrics;
"we will we will rock you"
"all we need is radio *mumble mumble mumble*"
"blood on his plaice, stupid face" (or words to that effect)
For at least an hour (from the beginning to the end of my lunch) he will sit, shouting out random words from queen songs. Repeatedly. In no order. The better bits were his occasional improvised verses. Bless the effort though!
And finally, in a little suburb of Toulouse (France) called Purpan, a lady in her late 40s stands on one of the main roundabouts orchestrating the traffic as if it were the philharmonic. You can see the joy on her face, and if you smile or wave, she happily waves back. Nice to know madness has no linguistic boundaries.
To be perfectly honest, I'm actually quite jealous of the mad ladies, they must be so contained in their own worlds. I aspire to be like that. Think I'm going to have to go out and buy a big purple velvet jacket!
(, Fri 17 Sep 2004, 16:01, Reply)
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