At 6.10 p.m. on February 25th 1988, I was talking with Tony Blott, whom I had known since 1982.
Of a sudden I began to study his features. He reminded me of someone, but I could not think who.
He caught me staring and asked what was up.
And then it struck me.
"Beethoven!" I exclaimed. "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Beethoven?"
"No", he laughed, "nobody ever has!"
He was then thirty-three. I kept looking at his head.
"There’s definitely a Beethoven bust there", I said.
Those were my exact words.
He paused for a moment and then looked up from his crossword.
"It’s funny you should say that, because I once bust a Beethoven bust with my head."
He went on to explain that twenty years before he had been on holiday on the Swedish island of Smøjgen when he had fainted due to the heat of the day.
He was in a friend’s house and as he fell backwards his head had knocked a Beethoven bust to the ground causing it to break.
"So there’s something there!" was Mr Blott’s concluding comment on my observation.