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The "Dear Hugh" Letters

I have been copied in on this series of letters which I thought you might enjoy:


Is a series of letters written to a friend by a professional man approaching his 50th birthday. He lives in a small village in Wiltshire. He has four children; one 12-year-old rock guitarist son and three blonde daughters aged 18, 19 and 21. His wife has just turned 40 and is a generation younger than him. Having spent 12 years in journalism and then 15 years working as publicist for an international music star and British national hero, he is trying to find some income working part-time as an ideas originator of programmes for a small London TV production company, where his boss is a woman 20 years younger than him. Unfortunately, he is handicapped in this as he detests pretty much all modern television. Having been very slim for all of his childhood and all of his adulthood to date, in the last year he has been horrified to find himself putting on weight. He is now three stone heavier than he was last summer. He does not understand the Internet, e-mail, television scheduling or anything more technical than a wheelbarrow. He drinks, but is currently teetotal, he smokes and does not exercise. He is on treatments of Prozac and beta-blockers for the depression that led him to leave his famous former employer. He is grumpy, confused and writes from his shed in his garden, from where he is happy to receive comments to ycw56@dial.pipex.com, especially if they endorse his view that everybody other than chaps of his age needs psychiatry. His friend Hugh is five years his senior and lives in the French Alps near Evian.


I read all of the "Hugh" letters, and died laughing. It's all your fault that I'm dead. You have murdered me!

Seriously, I thoroughly enjoyed the letters, and I thank you for posting them.

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