Real beard, real hair, real tankard, and a real midfriff much contributed to by real ale.

In 1954, Mr. Bridge upon returning to the UK, landed himself in care. Unfortunately the only household able to cope with his Ozzie ways was Gram and Pappy Trad. Their home was a bit over crowded with dancers and musos that society just did not want. Misfits.

After a number of years hard graft in the Morris Dance Mill, the still young Mr. Bridge experienced a foray into the dark seamy underworld of rock and roll, much to his foster family's dismay.

Fortunately, due to the love of his foster family, the good work of the social care system and a really scary "unbrainwasher" called Bubba, Mr. Bridge came to his good sense and returned to his roots. He flourished for some time in the tradition.

Sadly age and dementia seem to be taking their toll, as Mr. Bridge is experiencing backsliding and a regression to youthful bad habits.

Let us all form a song circle around Richard, that he may be called back in the folk fold.