BY DOM WIGHTMAN
Jamie Foster is a much-loved gentleman. A friend of thousands on Twitter, an author and wit, a country solicitor, a founder writer for this magazine, a family man and the first person who comes into one’s head when you hear mentioned those two words, red and trousers.
The same Jamie Foster who, after the Country Squire Magazine Christmas Party this year, recited poetry on Exmouth beach at 3am while smoking a Blanton’s Bourbon Whisky Cigar and swigging moonshine from a pink, sparkly hip flask bedecked in rhinestones (not his, I might add. Nor did it belong to a passing lady of the night*).
Well, I am sad to report Mr Foster is, temporarily, unwell.
I thought long and hard about what Jamie would do if our positions were reversed. So, risking a punch in the chops when he gets out, I’ve decided that it is my duty to cheer him up. In fact, it is OUR duty to cheer him up. I am calling on the social media hordes to put a smile on the old boy’s face, as he has done on ours over so many years.
I would like his friends and followers to either respond to this tweet with your best wishes, or email me a longer message I can pass to him (the email address to use is firstname.lastname@example.org) and I will print the replies and messages out for Jamie and deliver them to him in the web-free sickbay where he is recuperating. Please do not send through parcels of cigars or spirits as that will only upset matron.
If the curious among you want more information, I am not at liberty to give it to you. All I can say is that Jamie has a very high chance of a full and speedy recovery and we expect him to be the life and soul of the party sooner rather than later.
We all go through a rough patch and often it’s down to our mates to grab us by the collar and pull us up. So, let’s do that.
* The character, Jon Alexander, has fessed up.