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So Clive James died, not sadly, because he was a good age and ill for a long time, but British and Australian members at least might be aware.  In his memoirs he often alluded to his comic ineptidude in choosing shoes, and his penchant as a young man for growing ill-advised beards.  This based on some winkle pickers that he said were so long that when he looked straight ahead he could see his shoes in his peripheral vision.  Describing trying to hitch-hike in Italy he says,  'As I herring-boned my way along with my beard gathering dust I must have looked to the locals like a failed Nordic skier who was making fun of Garibaldi.'  The world will be a lesser place without him.


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