Celebrity seed pedlar Alan Titchmarsh has become

a waking nightmare for HARRY COLE ...

When I was a child, there was an actor named Eric Von Stronheim who was a villain in so many films he was billed as The Man You Love To Hate. Sadly, Eric got left behind when, first, Hitler then Mussolini and, finally, Stalin caused real-life animosity.

We progressed through a few other knaves before the age of political correctness caught up with us and we reached the present stage when you are not allowed to dislike anybody.

Aversion to anyone is classified as sexism, ageism or racism. You cannot dislike fat people, skinny people, foreign people, ginger-haired people, people with spectacles, people without spectacles. Disliking people is out.

At the risk of losing my police pension, I feel I must break ranks on this one. I think disliking someone really disliking them, I mean is therapeutic. There is nothing like a really good dislike to set me up for the day. The main requirement of a good dislike is it's illogical and undeserved.

I have such a dislike. My dislike is Alan Titchmarsh. The ubiquitous Titchmarsh is impossible to escape, especially on BBC television. He is on garden programmes, quizzes, panel games, religious programmes and chat shows. He is, in fact, everywhere.

One Sunday evening he had been on the BBC twice and in an effort to escape him I switched to the Proms, particularly because they were featuring the music of Gershwin. But who should be there? None other than bloody Titchmarsh! Bang went the Rhapsody in Blue as far as I was concerned.

I understand there are moves afoot for him to read the news and the weather forecasts, open the batting for England, model wellington boots and play in goal for Chelsea. Apparently the BBC is going to have him cloned and everyone with a garden will be expected to have six clones of him which they must keep in a centrally-heated shed until he finally evolves as an English Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Strangely enough, even in spite of my aversion, I had just about tolerated him until a week or so ago. It was then that a seed catalogue came through my letter box. Whose smiling face was beaming up at me from its pages? You've guessed it.

The seed company was proudly announcing Alan Titchmarsh had recommended its produce and as a generous concession to us customers we could have a free packet of seeds Alan had recommended!

It was at that moment I thought I had finally gone mad and my paranoia had completely taken over.

There is no escaping this man so I'm going to concrete my garden over and set fire to my shed. Eric Von Stronheim, Hitler, Mussolini and Stalin I could cope with but Titchmarsh has finally done me.

November 30, 2001 9:26