The Courier & Advertiser (Fife Edition)
Shaken and stirred by a chain of coincidences
As the entertainment world mourns the death of Sir Roger Moore, Rab happens to have been going through another of his James Bond phases. What are the chances of that, he wonders
The sad death of Sir Roger Moore this week came just as I had finished penning a first version of this column. And disturbingly enough, it was about James Bond and coincidences.
You’ll find this hard to believe, but I keep a file of coincidences that crop up in my life.
Not sure why. Looking for some pattern or meaning, I guess. Recently, eggs kept coming up. Buddha, that was another one. Ingmar Bergman. Frankie Howerd. Charles Dickens.
Can you see a pattern in this? If so, please send me a postcard revealing what it is.
To Bond then, and I’ve been going through another of my 007 phases again recently. These crop up from time to time, like listening to Led Zeppelin or eating bananas.
The 007 fascination may be rooted in childhood, as I’ve an early memory of my late Dad taking me to a Bond film.
Like every Edinburgh man of that generation, my Dad claimed not to have known Sean Connery, but to have seen him delivering milk.
I used to deliver milk too, so that’s another thing bonding me to Bond, as well as our heroism and manliness. And yes, before you insist on a correction, I am joking (but not about the milk).
So I’ve been watching Bond films and reading the books. It started with Spectre, which I was surprised to find I didn’t have on DVD, and last weekend, I watched On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, starring George Lazenby.
Then I opened the Sunday Post and there was a story about … George Lazenby. Seriously, what are the chances? The film was made in 1969.
The news story was based on an interview in which Lazenby spoke of how he’d imitated everything from Connery’s suit to his haircut to get the role.
With all due respect to Sir Roger, Connery remains the best Bond. Here’s a funny story. Around the time Connery was looking for a biographer, I checked missed calls on my phone and found one ending in 007. Ringing it, I got an international tone and an exotic, recorded female voice offering to connect me. Whereupon I put down the phone in a fright – just as Bond would have done.
Anyway, some more Bond coincidences: reading about him on social media, I decide to fix myself a drink and am faced with Gordon’s gin, the kind he put in his dry martinis (a favourite tipple of mine too). Taking my drink back to the study, I find my map of Skye has fallen to the floor: Skyfall!
So I watch Skyfall again and hear Bond described as “unmarried with no next of kin” – just like me!
But here’s the kicker: one day, I bought three persimmons for the first time in years and, that evening, started reading You Only Live Twice, only to encounter the line: “Bond gazed at the picture of three oranges (no! after an hour he decided they were persimmons) …” Incredible.
I have other coincidences, not all fruit-related, but I fear you’d find them hard to believe.