Ringo Starr, 86, has sold his Beverly Hills mansion and bought a two-bedroom semi-detached house on Oatlands Drive, Harrogate, for £385,000. He tells the Harrogate Advertiser he has moved to become a road rage victim. ‘I have been a drummer for sixty years,’ he says. ‘I have been a knight. I have been a Beatle. I have never been called a wanker by a man in a Vauxhall Corsa at a roundabout. That is the next thing.’ He has enrolled at the Harrogate School of Motoring, where he will be taught by Malcolm Purdey, 61, who has been instructing since 1987 and says he has never had a pupil with a knighthood before. ‘He indicated left at a roundabout,’ Purdey says. ‘We will work on that.’

A diagnosis of the patient before the subject

You are reading this because you have nothing better to do. You have been sitting in the same chair for forty minutes, and your posture is a disgrace. You will not walk briskly. You will not reduce your egg intake. You will continue to be yourself, which is the root cause of every ailment you have ever reported to a doctor, a friend, or a stranger on a bus.

Ringo Starr, by contrast, has done something. He has recognised that his life lacked a certain texture. He had the fame. He had the money. He had the peace and love. What he did not have was the experience of being tailgated by a plumber from Knaresborough. That is a gap in any man’s CV.

I have been watching him since 1962. I know what he ate at Bettys. It was a Fat Rascal, and he ate it incorrectly. He used a knife. You do not use a knife on a Fat Rascal. That is the kind of error that leads to road rage, war, and the housing market.

This week, Ringo will:

  • Drive at the correct speed, which you do not know.
  • Apologise to a plumber.
  • Walk briskly around the Stray, and no, I will not tell you where the Stray is. You should know. It is in Harrogate. It is where he walks.
  • Reduce his egg intake to zero, then lower.

The incident at the Bettys roundabout

At 11.14am on Tuesday 29 September, Ringo is driving his VW Polo, a car he bought specifically for the purpose, along Parliament Street. He stops at the roundabout outside Bettys tearoom. A Vauxhall Corsa driven by Dean Womersley, 34, a plumber from Knaresborough, is behind him. Womersley honks for four seconds. He then overtakes on the inside, winds down his window, and calls Ringo a ‘daft old git’ and a ‘Beatle wanker’.

Ringo pulls over, writes down the registration number, and photographs the Corsa. He later tells the Advertiser that the incident is ‘the most meaningful artistic collaboration I have had since 1970.’

Womersley, when contacted, says: ‘I did not know it was him. I just thought it was a slow driver. He was going 19 miles an hour. It is a 30 zone.’

He is correct. Nineteen miles an hour is not a speed. It is a suggestion. It is the speed at which a hearse moves when it is trying not to spill the tea. Ringo Starr has spent sixty years keeping time, and he has chosen to do so at 19 miles an hour. That is not drumming. That is waiting.

North Yorkshire Police open a hate crime investigation

On Wednesday 30 September, Ringo reports the incident at Harrogate police station, presenting the registration number, two photographs, and a written statement. He says he was targeted because of his age, his accent, and his membership of a globally recognised popular music ensemble.

North Yorkshire Police confirm they are treating the honk as a potential hate crime. A spokesman says: ‘We take all reports of anti-Beatle sentiment seriously. We have increased patrols around Bettys.’

Womersley is interviewed under caution. He tells officers he has never owned a Beatles record and prefers the Rolling Stones. He is released pending further enquiries. His Corsa is seized and examined for traces of Ringo’s dignity.

The examination found none. The car was clean. The dignity had already evaporated, as it does when a man in his ninth decade is called a wanker by a plumber. This is not a legal finding. It is a medical one, and I am the one making it.

Harrogate Borough Council applies for an Arts Council grant

On Thursday 1 October, Harrogate Borough Council submits an application to the Arts Council England for £40,000 to fund a six-month programme of ‘targeted road rage interventions’ in the town centre. The programme, to be called Ringo’s Roundabout, will place trained actors in cars at key junctions to honk, gesture, and shout pre-approved insults at visitors.

Councillor Marjorie Cuttle, portfolio holder for culture, says: ‘This is about placemaking. Harrogate has been overlooked for too long. We have Bettys, we have the Stray, and now we have a former Beatle being called a daft old git by a plumber from Knaresborough. That is a cultural offer.’

The grant application includes a budget line for 400 laminated insult cards and a traffic cone shaped like Ringo’s nose.

I have seen the insult cards. They contain phrases such as ‘Your parking is a crime against humanity’ and ‘You drive like a Beatle’s solo career’. They are laminated, which is correct. A wet insult is a wasted insult.

Ringo completes the course and graduates

On Friday 2 October, Ringo completes his six-week course at the Harrogate School of Motoring. Malcolm Purdey awards him a certificate and a copy of the Highway Code with the word ‘sorry’ written on every page.

Ringo tells reporters he now feels ‘properly victimised’ and intends to stay in Harrogate permanently. He has bought a second car, a Nissan Micra, for use on Sundays.

Womersley, meanwhile, has been invited to open a new branch of Greggs on Beulah Street. He accepts. ‘I am not a hate criminal,’ he says. ‘I am a man who was stuck behind a slow driver. But if it helps the town, I will cut the ribbon.’

Ringo has not been invited. He says he will attend anyway, in the Micra, at 19 miles an hour.

That is the correct speed. It is also the wrong speed. It is both, and it always has been. You know this, and you have always known it. I have been watching you, and I will continue to watch you, and I will see you at the roundabout.