Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Finally, some street sales. A nice Russian lady stopped by the floating bookshop, despite the cold, and purchased seven best sellers, including four Sandra Brown mysteries and Robert James Waller's follow up to his blockbuster The Bridges of Madison County, Slow Waltz in Cedar Grove. Spasiba, madam. If this keeps up I'll be able to retire - but not to the Africa country of Malawi, where farting in public has been banned. I'd be arrested as soon as I stepped off the plane.
A few days ago composer John Barry died. He scored over 100 films and won four Oscars: Born Free, The Lion in Winter, Out of Africa and Dances with Wolves. I remember the melody of Born Free and the opening lyric (...as free as the wind blows), but don't remember a note of the others. That is not to say they aren't good, but I will carry the music Barry did for the early James Bond flicks in my head until the day I die. I was an impressionable pre-teen when the first was released. My friends and I always eagerly awaited the next in the series. My sister gave me the Goldfinger soundtrack one Christmas. I played it to death, visualizing the hero, the villains (Oddjob - wow!) and the Bond girls. I was thrilled one day many years later when I figured out the 007 riff on my guitar. I still get a warm feeling whenever I hear Shirley Bassey belt out the title tune, whose marvelous lyrics were written by Leslie Bricusse and Anthony Newley. John Barry, and Stephen Sondheim and Leonard Bernstein, who did West Side Story, showed me there was a lot of great music outside rock n roll radio. Listening to those albums is one of the few fond memories of my youth. I quietly took everything to heart back then. Thank you, Sir John. RIP.
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