ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST

So Keith Floyd is dead. Poor old bugger; he had a heart attack at his girlfriend's house in Dorset.

All very sad, I can imagine you saying, but what has this got to do with us? I admit that the CFZ bloggo does indeed go off topic on occasion, but the lonesome death of a TV chef? What gives?

Well, Keith Floyd is actually responsible for my TV career - such as it is.

Back in the balmy days of 1994 I was approached by a TV Production company, in which Senor Floyd had an interest. They wanted a fortean version of Keith Floyd to wander about the country with a glass of brandy in one hand and a cigar in the other patronising the bejeezus out of eyewitnesses to the Loch Ness Monster, or UFOs. The fact that I was a friend of Doc Shiels also came in handy, and the script (such as it was) looked riotous and it is probably a good thing that it was never made.

For some reason they chose me as the Keith Floyd-a-like. About half the pilot was made, but I am very glad to say that it was never finished and that the rushes have disappeared into the mists of time. But apparently it was Keith F.'s idea, and although I never met him personally, my on-screen persona for the next ten years was cast in stone.

But it did also lead to my first series for Westcountry TV, and my career.

So goodbye, mate. I owe you one