Now that my friends at Google know I live in Warwickshire, they are keen to flag up stories of local interest to me and today a snippet from Worcester News was featured.
This is not the time to ponder the difference between a major and a minor milestone, or to write a begging letter to the lucky owner of the unusual coin. Our attention has to be focussed on the big cat story. This is one of the great recurring themes of local news across the country - there is always a breathless eye-witness, a few seconds of seeing something that always runs away, never to be seen again, and no other direct evidence apart from a blurry photo now and then. I was drawn to it, however, because of the "face to face" element and had a look at the story. And this was what confronted me:
Terrifying, is it not? Er, no, not really. For what we have here is a stock image of a black panther, an animal indigenous to South-East Asia, and not Worcestershire at all. This is not a photograph taken by the woman in the story. It is not even claimed to be what she saw. It is just a photograph, supplied by Getty Images, that the paper chose to publish immediately under the headline.
It turns out that this "terrifying" moment was in 2013. The woman in question was driving in the country and glimpsed, no less than 20 yards away, something big and black that moved like a cat. The animal ran off at once and vanished. No trace of it was found.
I do not doubt that the lady saw something that disturbed her. My fascination with this classic example of crap local journalism is the the way that the newspaper has attempted to sensationalise it. She did not have a "face-to-face" encounter - she was in her car and it was in the field some way away. It did not leap on her bonnet and snarl at her through the window, flashing enormous blood-stained teeth, whilst its razor sharp claws slashed deep grooves in the paintwork. It took one look at her and was off. Perhaps it was the animal that was terrified - the motorist may have been startled. A bit.
Anyway, if you want gripping stories with a local interest that have a searing, must-read, headline that bears little resemblance to the content, read on, gentle reader, read on.
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My Inferno Nightmare - Local Pensioner's Lucky Escape
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A fire somewhere else
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Grandfather of two Norman Maltravers has told us of how he narrowly missed first degree burns and loss of 95% of his skin when he visited the chip shop in Lower Bishop's Nodules. "I'll never forget it" he told our reporter "There I was, queuing up for a small cod and chips same as every Thursday when it happened! I saw one of the assistants put some fish in the deep fat fryer and I thought - Blimey, if that lot goes up, we'll all take one hell of a pasting and no mistake. The whole shop will go, I shouldn't wonder, if not half the ruddy street.".
Fortunately there was no explosion of boiling, rancid fat to splatter flesh-tearing gobbets of liquid terror over the plucky pensioner and the two other customers. "By some miracle nothing at all happened" said a still shaken Mr Maltravers "We got out alive and with our fish suppers still intact. I went home and gave thanks for my deliverance. To this day I believe that it was the blessed Saint Peter himself who looked after me - he's the one who covers fish bars, isn't he?"
Later Mr Maltravers explained that this near fatal incident occurred "sometime in 1995, I think, or anyway round about the Queen's Jubilee celebrations". He founded a support group for others with similar experiences and is hoping to have someone join it one day.
Road Horror Heroine
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A tanker similar to the one in the crash
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Keen bowls player and owner of two cats, Deirdre Flint of Great Silage is counting her blessings today. A terrifying accident between a truck full of high explosives and a petrol tanker brought traffic to a standstill on the B347 just moments after she backed her Morris Minor into Abattoir Lane. "That could have been me" said a quivering Mrs Flint "and it was pure chance that this red-hot vortex of destruction happened on the B347 in Santa Maria province, Argentina, and not here in peaceful Warwickshire"
"If it had happened here and I was caught up in it " the battling housewife went on "I would have had no hesitation in driving away as fast as possible before phoning someone to tell them to do something about it"
Local Man Nominated for US Presidency!
Bumford born and bred Hartley Harrow, 47, has been nominated for the top job in America and may pose a serious challenge to Donald Trump at the Republican convention. He remains in Bumford doing his day job as assistant vice-secretary to the Bumford Allotments Society but is bursting with enthusiasm to fly to Los Angeles and start "mixing it with the Hollywood jet set and the rest of those guys".
Mr Harrow was nominated by his wife, Hilda, who wrote his name on the back of a breakfast cereal box and sent it in four months ago. "He's the right man to lead the Republicans" she enthused "He has a baseball cap and a badge that says 'President', which I made out of tinfoil and some sticky-backed plastic".
We asked if there had been any contact from the Republican party. Mr Harrow seemed doubtful but his wife pointed out that it didn't matter in the least. "You just turn up and say you want to run, and next thing you are on the platform and everyone is cheering and bursting balloons. I've seen it on the telly"
Mrs Harrow is organising a jumble sale and kids face painting to raise the funds for the air ticket and says there has been a surprising amount of support from the neighbours.
"I'm really surprised there has been zero interest so far" she told our reporter "But that's bound to change now that the national press have picked up the story".
When it was pointed out that the convention was in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, over 2,000 miles from Los Angeles, Mr Harrow remained undaunted "One of those film stars will give me a lift, they all want to be friends with America's next president".
Asked about his policies, should he win, Mr Harrow was emphatic. "No US air base in the Bumford allotments, that is right out, I'm putting my foot down on this one. A cultural exchange between Bumford and San Francisco. The CIA to 'take out' those bastards from Great Silage who park outside our village shop on Wednesday mornings. Er, that's it for the moment.
The good wishes of all our readers go with this gallant contender.