Recently, I went on a trip to Antigua, and within walking distance of our resort was a big house that my brother-in-law claimed belonged to Eric Clapton. I never got confirmation whether that was true (I didn’t hear “Wonderful Tonight” wafting from the windows or anything), although Clapton apparently has an estate (or two) somewhere on the island, as well as a drug rehabilitation center, which he opened in 1998. And the brilliant, works-on-multiple-levels name for this institution? Crossroads Center.
Clapton, incidentally, knows a thing or two about addictions and crossroads.
