THE PERFECT MARTINI

As a pretty vocal martini enthusiast I am frequently asked two questions: What's my favorite brand of vodka or gin; and whether I prefer my martinis "shaken, or stirred". The brandi is a difficult question given the variety available on the market today, but my preference generally goes to the crisper and less oily varieties: Tito's is my go-to, and barring that it's usually Stoli given its ubiquity on most pub lists. 

But other brands, less commonly found on the menu, are also favorites: 7000', Hanger1, Ultimat, Tahoe Blue, Vox, Belvedere and Svedka for vodka. I like to experiment with local brands and regional favorites as they are found. My gin choices are more limited to Bombay, Tanqueray and New Amsterdam.

And as to whether I'm a "shaken or stirred" man, well, that's not as easily defined. Yes, there's the whole James Bond thing, but the question is a legitimate one. And my answer might surprise you.

But first, a diversion.

CHANDLERS' 10 MINUTE MARTINI

As with many things, the delight of a well-made martini is only partially in the tasting. The overall experience, from beginning to end, is part of a martini's allure. Ordering, with specifications as to "up" or on the rocks, with olives or a twist of lemon (or even lime), specifying a particular brand -- with the corresponding "what is the house vodka/gin?". It's all part of the dance to getting the best overall experience. From the sound of the shaker, to the delivery of the drink to the table (usually spilled), the first sip and the final act of eating the olives, the martini is both a drink and an experience.

Unshaken martini at SHARP'S ROASTHOUSE

The Bond films, of course, have given the world the shaken vodka martini. It wasn't invented by them...and isn't even the drink author Ian Fleming assigned his super-spy in the novels. But the movies popularized the drink and sent millions of consumers into their neighborhood pubs asking for their drink to be shaken, not stirred. 

In truth, most vodka and gin enthusiasts agree that stirring is a far more effective and correct method to mixing the vodka/gin with vermouth and ice. It creates a smoother blend and generally makes for a more sippable product. So I must prefer my martini to be stirred, and not shaken.

Not so fast.

In my travels I've consumed a lot of martinis and encountered a number of variations on the theme. Two stand out in my mind as delivering smooth and deliciously cold drinks without a lot of shaking or stirring. Chandlers, in Boise, Idaho, has a justifiably famous 10 Minute Martini, which sits in the freezer for that amount of time to congeal versus be beaten into submission. The time spent in the freezer allows the elements of the drink to come together naturally and gently. giving the finished product a smooth and natural flavor.

Likewise, Sharp's Roasthouse, next to SeaTac airport in Washington, uses the undramatic but terrific method of pouring ice-cold liquor into a shaker with ice, which is then taken straight to the table and poured - without the shake. The tie it takes the waiter/waitress to deliver the drink is sufficient to mix enough water with the alcohol to smooth over the rough edges. Then they spritz the glass with vermouth rather than combine it in the shaker.

The flaw here, of course, is the lack of drama. One of the above-referenced sensory events in ordering a martini isn't just the taste, but the sound of the drink being shaken right before delivery to the table. In most cases it's from the bartender's efforts behind the bar. The sound of a shaker has, on the martini drinker, the same effect as the sound of a blender does for those who like margaritas or daiquiris.

So it's all part of the sensory experience of a drink before it even arrives at the table. 

So I must prefer my drink shaken, right?

Not quite.

As in all things: it depends.

So let me share my absolute preferred way to mix a perfect martini. It lacks the drama and show of a shaken drink, and has a bit more smoothness than even the stirred martini.

But boy does it ever make the perfect martini.

(From my book, CHASING MARTINIS.)

THE IDEAL MARTINI

6 oz* VODKA or GIN (pre-chilled in the freezer)

SPRITZER OF VERMOUTH

THREE BLUE CHEESE OLIVES on toothpick

Chilled martini glass

Fill ice in martini shaker.

Pour chilled Vodka into shaker.

Do not shake.

Carry shaker, glass

and spritzer to table

Spritz glass twice with Vermouth

Cover shaker wth Hawthorne Strainer

Pour Vodka gently into glass

Garnish with Blue Cheese olives

Let sit for two minutes

Consume

* My friends have voiced the opinion that 6 ounces of vodka or gin is a very strong martini, and they're right. Drink size has increased significantly since the vaunted days of the "three martini lunch". Caveat emptor.

Pic of the Day: Greetings Mr Bond

I am a car fan, as you've probably picked up. Probably more Top Gear than Auto Week, but to each their own.

So when I see a gorgeous set of wheels, it makes me pay attention.

Aston Martin DB5 caught on the streets of London. Not Bond Street, unfortunately. THAT would have been perfect.

Chasing Martinis

"One martini is all right.
Two are too many, 
and three are not enough."
                            - James Thurber

I suppose we must each find hobbies in our lives that make some sort of sense to our view of the world. Amateur photographers want to document the world around them, as painters do but in a different way. Other people collect those works and (hopefully) display them as some sort of commentary about themselves as art lover

Austin, TX

Doll collectors and paraphernalia enthusiasts want a tangible thing that some how, in some way, has meaning for them. Sports enthusiasts keep themselves in shape and endure that competitive side of their nature. In essence, they collect muscle tone and good health. (And sometimes broken bones.)


Among other things, I collect martinis. Images of them, I mean.

Maybe I ought to start from the beginning.

As a traveler, over the years I have several things and collections which I indulge when I'm on the road. They would be called hobbies in most cases. For example, I collect shot glasses. Lots and lots of them, it turns out, as the years have gone by. 

Each glass represents a destination and adventure, some more than others. I have more than a hundred, a total which does not include those places I visited prior to collecting. Yes. I get around.

Auckland, NZ

San Diego, CA

(For the first few years of traveling the world as an adult I was collecting coffee mugs. I discovered, after a year or so, that the mug collection was becoming pretty unwieldy. When I switched to shot glasses my wife voiced utter and complete approval. But I digress.)

So collecting shot glasses became a hobby, which I happily indulge pretty much upon arrival at any given (new) destination. 

Separately, however, as a photographer and aspiring travel-writer, I found myself fascinated with documenting our adventures in various countries. One of my favorite categories became focussed -- excuse the pun -- on wine. One of our favorite activities in places like France, Australia, the Napa Valley, Virginia and elsewhere is the tasting of local wines. In fact, tasting wine in each of the world's top wine districts has become one of my Life List ambitions.

Rapid City, SD

Naturally I began documenting those tastings with my camera. And while I think it's a little unsettling for the wine pourer,  I have several portfolio-level pictures which were taken as a result of a casual wine-tasting session. Particularly of the pour. (It's a naturally photogenic moment.)

I've also photographed rum drinks in the Caribbean, Mai Tais in Hawaii, and tequila in Mexico. Bourbon in New Orleans. But collecting images of various mixed drinks, while interesting, never caught my artistic imagination the way the martini has. Or maybe it's just because I love martinis and it's a sneaky way to order them without appearing to be a borderline alcoholic. ("It's for my Art".)

So how did I end up collection martinis --or more accurately, images of martinis -- more than wine and other mixed drinks?

You have to go back quite a few years, probably into my childhood. The martini, during the days I was in my formative years, was an icon. Of glamor. Sophistication. (And, in doing research for this blog entry's quote, above, I discovered I was far from alone. It seems the martini influenced many a mind and imagination of people growing up in the sixties and seventies.) It represented an image I wanted to aspire to -- that of Hollywood parties, Vegas. Washington DC and New York sophisticates, and of course, James Bond himself.

Las Vegas, NV

The martini as all that and more.

Port Douglas, Queensland

So, in college, when drinking was both a required social activity and at a times a competitive sport, I developed a taste for vodka martinis. Well. And Long Island Iced Teas, Tequila Sunrises, Screwdrivers and rum and Coke.

Yeah, well. Picky I was not.

But the martini is what stuck with me. Not for everyday drinking any more, but as an echo of that one-time fascination with the glamorous life. Now, when it travel, I like to relax in the evenings with a martini or two.

One thing leads to another, and one fascination combines with another, and sooner or later in this visually-oriented world, I began photographing my martinis. For the last three years it has gone from a mild "every once in a while" sort of thing to a hobby. It gives me something to do during my down hours, and I've managed to build up a decent collection of martinis worldwide.

Honolulu, HI

(One lament is that I was not yet serious about it the last time I was in Europe, and therefore missed the opportunity to photograph one in Monte Carlo. Given the influence of all things 007 in my life, that would have been an important addition to the collection.)

Some photos are low quality. Whether a result of low-lighting conditions, my lack of skill with the camera, or the low image quality of the camera I was using (the iPad, for all it can do, is not a good photographic tool, though it lets me post my martinis in a real-time basis.)

Some are naturals: Las Vegas. Del Mar. New York. Washington. Some are less so: El Paso. Rapid City. Honolulu.

(You haven't lived until you order a martini in El Paso. And you may not live long after doing so. Just sayin'.) (And you may note the Honolulu martini -- to the right -- is in a plastic wine glass. The waitress happily brought it, but apologized for the glass saying "we don't get a lot of requests for martinis.")

Some hobbies are fun. Some hobbies are full of memories, of emotions. Some hobbies are healthful. Some make no sense to an outsider, but have meaning to the collector.

And some, like collecting martinis, are just damned indulgent.

Cheers.

Whistler, British Columbia

ROAD PICTURES

“Wandering around our America has changed me more than I thought. I am not me any more. At least I’m not the same me I was.”
Ernesto Guevara de la Serna in “Motorcycle Diaries

Hooray for Hollywood!

I have remarked a few times on the impact that the James Bond series of movies and the various television shows I watched as a child had on my development into a person who loves travel. How the visuals and locations excited me as a young boy, and gave me the basis for valuing -- and wanting to go to -- "other places".

Over the years, films have played a large role in not only my life, but the lives of others. Making a list of favorite, best, and most influential travel films is as frequent as the debate over what, exactly, constitutes a "travel film".

For me, the location has to play an important role in the storyline. It cannot simply be the background -- I usually ask myself if the film could have been set anywhere else. If the answer is "no", then it's a travel film in some way. It evokes a sense of place and this somehow reflects in the overall storyline. The list below is far from comprehensive, and ignores other potential inclusions such as Captain Corelli's Mandolin;  The African Queen; Grand Prix (or LeMans for that matter); Romancing the Stone and a multitude of other wonderful films over the years.

Paris, An American in Paris

Another factor has to be that it shows the locale in something of a positive light. It has to, in some way, appeal to your sense of adventure or at the very least make you want to explore the setting(s) in a bit more detail. It does NOT need to be filmed on location, though for obvious reasons it helps. Two of my choices below were filmed on sound stages, but I will explain my thinking in more detail below.

But what these films share is an understanding of their environment and how much that environment can impact ourselves. In some of them the setting is a tapestry against which the action takes place. Would the biplane attack in North by Northwest have been as terrifying in a city or in a forest instead of on the Great Plains? Unlikely. The open space left nowhere to hide, leaving the main character exposed and vulnerable. 

Some of the films concentrate on their setting. Encounters at the End of the World is about Antarctica. As the only documentary in my list -- documentaries being a 'too-easy' category of films for this sort of list because they are exactly about locations and settings...it defies the central idea of film stories which motivate you to travel without being themselves explicitly about the destination -- it differs from the majority of "This is Antarctica" documentaries because it deals with the people who themselves have to contend with the environment and how that environment affects them. Yeah, that also applies to many other documentary-type films, but it's my list and I'll do it my way. (Argue with me about this and I'll trot out In Search of Ancient Astronauts to silence you once and for all!)

New Orleans, Cat People

This list does not contain solely films which had their affect on me as a child. Some of them did, but others served to reinforce my thinking as I grew and as I matured (some would tell you these were not simultaneous events). In a way, some of them have not yet materialized for me. I have not yet been to Antarctica, Wadi Rum, a Venezuelan plateau or the Amazon, though they all feature prominently in films below. They're still targets for the future.

Cortona, Under the Tuscan Sun

Finally, the shots I've used for this blog entry are from places I have been as a result of seeing them in
films. Had I not seen them, had them suggested to me, chances are they would never have been a chosen travel destination. All of the places you see photographed here came to me at some initial moment in a darkened movie theater. I found my way because some way, some how I saw them in a film and when it came time  to plaAnd not for the last time, either. I've cited what I think the inspirational film was, and even if I'm wrong you'll never know the difference. Life is funny like that.

So, all this in mind:

My Top Ten Travel Films, in no order of any kind

Under the Tuscan Sun - Commonly tossed aside as a chick flick, this is actually a pretty inspirational travel film. It features, of course, the town of Cortona in the Tuscan hills. The director of the film chose, rightly, to film the big city scenes in cool, blue gray tones which nicely offset the lively colors of Tuscany. This is a film about a character getting back in touch with her own self, restoring a sense and balance. Finding our own life balances is a task which all too frequently get brushed aside by daily activities which consume us and risk turing our world into that blue gray mess. Cortona, and to a lesser extent Positano (a picturesque town clinging to the side of the steep Amalfi Coast, are lessons in that balance, of taking the time and making the effort to establish connections and appreciate the world around us.

New York, North by Northwest

North by Northwest - A travel film? Really? Yep. New York and the Great Plains are but two of the locations in this film. The third, of course, is Mount Rushmore. Throughout the movie each contributes not only a setting, but a mood. As I noted above, I cannot think of a better spot for the biplane attack than the Plains. New York is shown as a vibrant, energetic place in complete contrast to the isolation of the Plains and the majesty of Rushmore. It typifies the Metropolitan New York of the 'forties, 'fifties and 'sixties. In this film, each setting establishes both the mood and the action.

UP! - Oh, who wouldn't want to pack up the house and move to a South American tepui (plateau) in search of adventure? In this case, the animators relied on their own travels to Mount Roraima as inspiration for the film's second half. The otherworldy landscapes and tremendous waterfalls are real, and the film uses them as the basis for the protagonist's dreams and then his reality. The message of the film is that paradise does exist if you're open to it.

Roman Holiday - The name of the film kid of gives it away, but a good deal of the plot revolves around  a princess who has escaped her overwhelmingly structured life for a chance to stop and appreciate the world around her. There is a good deal of travelogue-style footage of Rome, but also an attempt to show the lifestyle of an American expat/reporter living there. Much is made of the magic of Rome, including its romantic allure.

Rome, Roman Holiday

Aguirre: The Wrath of God - The Amazon is a full-blown character in this film, and I do mean character. The human search for gold, more accurately Eldorado itself, plays out against the jungle and river in a way that reflects badly on the men involved. As their pursuit descends into madness, the river becomes more than a conveyance, it becomes an implacable force demonstrating man's folly. Why, given all that, would it be a good travel film? Because the river and jungle are spectacularly beautiful. One gets the impression that if given the proper respect the region is full of adventure and opportunity -- just don't look for any lost cities of gold...

Raiders of the Lost Ark - I don't think I even need to go into detail on this one. One adventure after another, and all against a series of settings which look all the more romantic in the rose colored historic glasses Spielberg used to make it. From the Himalayas to the desert surrounding Cairo, the world itself is the playground complete with dotted lines on a victorian map as we transition from one exotic locale to another. 

London, Mary Poppins

Mary Poppins - 
No, I have not lost it. The London depicted in Mary Poppins does not, and never did, exist. I am thoroughly aware of that. But it is a fantasy version, an idealized London not dissimilar to Disney's Main Street as a stand in for the real thing. There is room for the imaginary version of a place to act as a motivator to see the real thing. The Paris of An American in Paris is a comparable setting, and yet both films manage to create such a vivid and three-dimensional fantasy that it inspires the viewer to want to go there. (The expectation that what you will find there is the only variable, of course. If you expect to find an imaginary Victorian London, then it is the expectations which are off, not the motivations.)

Lawrence of Arabia - When it comes to exotic and well-filmed locals, Lawrence of Arabia is perhaps the king of all travel films. David Lean used the desert as both a test of the characters, and a framework by which to define them. Visually he took the time to create the Arabian landscape in such a way as to bring it alive for the viewer. Not just a setting, a world into and of itself. For me it has inspired a desire to get to Wadi Rum and sleep under the stars. Though a demanding land, it also seems quite spiritual for the person who is open to such things. Lawrence was forever changed by the land and its people, and perhaps it can have an echo of the same impact on a modern day traveler.

Encounters at the End of the World - As I mentioned above, this is the only documentary in the list. It isn't a travelogue, however. It's the story of the people there, and how they are impacted and challenged by the frozen continent. In my own mind, it makes me want to go there, to not only visit but experience. Someday...

The Bing Crosby, Bob Hope Road Pictures - No discussion of inspirational travel films would be complete without a nod to the entire "Road to" series of films from Hope and Crosby. Yes, filmed on sound stages, and certainly not much more than recycled gags and plotlines set in different exotic locales around the world, the Road pictures were fun little romps which celebrated other cultures by depicting two everyday guys as stand ins for ourselves. Oftentimes the story would revolve around some sort of intrigue that the boys became innocently involved in -- with Dorothy Lamour somewhere in the mix. In their own way, and in a much more humorous vein, the Road pictures were distant cousins to the much later and far more serious James Bond films. Villains, heists, heroines and attempted murders were usually the order of the day, yet the boys managed to overcome the odds and set the world to right again. All seemingly accomplished while riding camels and singing in the Moroccan desert, and that seemed like just a whole lot of fun all the way around.

-------------------------------------------

So, it's an unusual list in several ways, but if it matched every other kind of list made up by everyone else what would be the point?

We all learned, at some point in our lives, to want to travel. To go find new places to go and new things to do. The inspiration for this comes from a multitude of sources, not the least of which is the Silver Screen.

Positano, Under the Tuscan Sun

Everything I Need to Know About London I Learned from Doctor Who

"The travel writer seeks the world we have lost - the lost valleys of the imagination."

- Alexander Cockburn

Marlo, where are you???

Some months ago I made note of the impact the James Bond films had on my chosen destinations and impressions of places around the world. A less seemly aspect of all this is the effect watching entirely too much television did for the way I viewed that same world as a kid. (The first Bond film I can remember seeing in the theaters was Live and Let Die, so there was plenty of damage done to my young psyche before Bond took hold.)

As a child, I admit I watched a lot of TV. (Yes, yes, we all turn up our noses publicly, but according to research the average American watches four plus hours a day, so get over your bad self. Yes, you're cool, we all admire your restraint. Move on.) In particular, and no real surprise, comedy programs made up a good share of those shows. At that time it was highly unusual for anyone under 12 to be allowed to stay up much beyond 9pm, and the majority of television programming on the three available networks (*gasp*, THREE?) was built around something called Family Hour before 9pm.

I know Yukon Cornelius is round here somewhere

As such, my view of the world around me was highly restricted to a) places I'd been, which by my twelfth birthday counted Hawaii, Japan, New England and Virginia in addition to California; and b) those other places which I'd seen only on the small screen television set in the family room.

So, being a mildly impressionable…okay, very impressionable young boy, my world was defined by what the television industry refers to as "stock shots" -- pictures of a place used as an introductory shot to the rest of the program, establishing where the story takes place. Shots of the surf along Waikiki for Hawaii Five-O, Miami for Burn Notice. You've seen a million of them as the network comes back from a commercial. 

Mork? Mindy?

My worldvision was defined by these stock shots for years. My "New York" was a vibrant, brightly colored city as shown to me by That Girl, the comedy program about a single woman in Manhattan starring Marlo Thomas. (A whole column could be spent with HER impact on my childhood impressions, but that's an entirely different column, and Blog probably.) I can summon those mid-sixties stock shots of the core of Manhattan, looking down at the city from on-high and looking dramatically different from the grittier New York I would later discover at the movies and for myself much later in life.

Where's the red Thunderbird?

Hawaii, interestingly enough, was represented by Gilligan's Island. To a little kid palm trees are palm trees and since I'd spent some time on Oahu, the connection was an easy one to make. Likewise, Minneapolis was, and may forever be, defined by Mary Tyler Moore's cap toss and picture window. As one of the two major American cities I have left unvisited on my agenda -- the other, stunningly, being Chicago -- my adult impressions of Minneapolis still resonate with that cap toss. And, yeah, Chicago is inexorably linked to Bob Newhart. I never said I've outgrown the easily-impressioned phase of my life.

Mayberry must be right around that corner

Let's see: San Juan was that far-away windy place on The Flying Nun; Get Smart was my Washington, DC; Los Angeles…Hollywood… was The Beverly Hillbillies. The beautiful and scenic college town of Boulder, Colorado was born in my mind as the home of Mork and Mindy.

Yes. Rather idealized and twisted view of the world.

And television dramas weren't exempt from their influence. 

My Las Vegas was represented by Robert Urich's Vegas! The darker edges of Chicago were filled in by no less than Kolchak: The Night Stalker. (Which might explain why the Windy City is still on my to-do list.) 

Adam-12 was my Los Angeles. Still is, in some ways.

Steed. John Steed.

All of this being particularly amusing to me when, as an older teen, I realized that most of these shows weren't even filmed in those places. Now, as then, television is the art of artifice where Long Beach is used for Miami as well as middle-America. Vancouver is a much less expensive alternative for New York and Boston. As I discovered the world of back lots and remote locations I realized how much of those impressions of my childhood were wrong -- and that those cities and other places were far more textured and wonderful than I'd ever imagined. Having by now visited a good portion of the US, and gaining a toehold on Europe, I've found that while some of those daydream locations might lose a little luster in the translation, the majority are far more fascinating and enjoyable than even Marlo Thomas might have suggested. 

Then again, looking back, the London I know from The Avengers and Doctor Who and UFO is still a place I wouldn't mind visiting. Can you suspend belief just this one time? Please guys?

Eh. 

Gotta go. I can see by the clock it's time for my trip to Seattle to visit with my friend Frasier.

Oh, Toto, I don't think we're in Miami any more

SHAKEN, NOT STIRRED

Venice, FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE

So here we are, fifty years and twenty-two films into James Bond's onscreen exploits. (Twenty four if you're not a purist and want to include David Niven's hysterical take in the original Casino Royale, and Sean Connery's subversive older Bond in Never Say Never Again.) As a boy growing up, Bond was a particular favorite of mine, and had an obvious influence on my approach and attitude towards travel. (Ah, you KNEW there was a connection!) Even today, I can count a number of destinations we have been among places I've wanted to go since childhood, seeing them first in one of the Bond films. And yes, there are still places I want to go, simply because Bond was there first.

Paris, A VIEW TO A KILL

If you're not familiar with the Bond films -- and I have to ask what planet you've been on if this is the case -- each one features three or four international destinations, many of them quite exotic and beautiful. Taken as an entirety, and ignoring the action packed races through the streets, dark alleys and sometimes deserts of the stories, the series is an excellent travelogue of the world -- for obvious reasons with a particular emphasis on the lands of the former British Empire. India, Hong Kong, the Caribbean -- in addition to classical Europe in all its splendor. In each film the location often plays as significant a role and most of the characters. This, in and of itself, helps to create the mood of the story. Would Bond be as truly global a character if the adventures were simply stock shots of a local, with the scenes themselves filmed upon a back lot? I doubt it. To do so would have given the movies a sense of being little more than a globe-trotting television show, where the Caribbean Islands have Palm trees more commonly found in, say, Southern California.

Monte Carlo, CASINO ROYALE

No, the fact that the Bond series has taken advantage of shooting in such far off lands as Pakistan, India, Columbia simply adds to the texture and reality of the movies -- a reality made necessary by the fictional nature of the story itself.

So, for myself, seeing these grand locales, and seeing the story unfold against the backdrop, helped goose along my natural tendencies to want to see the world. (With the exception of a couple of years during my adolescence, I have always enjoyed going new places and seeing new things. Almost to the point nowhere it's become a checkoff against some sort of tote board. "Yep, been there, done that!")

As an adult, I will admit that some of the films suffer in my memory precisely because of the backdrop. You may laugh, but I was uniformly unimpressed when Bond came to the States. I didn't want to see him in New York, Miami, San Francisco or LA -- those were already familiar to me, even though I now count New York, San Francisco and Las Vegas as three of my favorite towns. But their appearance in a Bond film made the movie itself more mundane in the process, at least to my younger mind. (The exceptions to this are Las Vegas in Diamonds are Forever, and New Orleans in Live and Let Die. Both films made me want to visit those places as much as the more exotic destinations.)

Miami, GOLDFINGER

This is an indication of two things. The power of media to influence one's perception of the world, and my apparent willingness to go along with that. I watch a lot of films and TV shows with equally spectacular settings, but they do not have the same resonance emotionally when it comes to my impressions of the world. Thanks to James Bond, I've now been to the previously mentioned places, as well as Venice, Paris, London, the Caribbean, Key West and -- in particular -- Monte Carlo, as well as several other spots that got their first introduction to my consciousness through a Bond movie. And, also courtesy 007 (and other cultural references) such places as Rio de Janeiro, Bangkok, Berlin, Vienna, Cairo and Istanbul are still on my to-do list. 

So, being a year and a half younger than me, my hats off to a half-century of Mr James Bond, showing me the world and giving me the impetus with which to explore it.

Now, where'd I leave my martini?

Shaken, Not Stirred