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Published June 15, 2008

I was a child of the sixties. By that I mean I was a child in the sixties not some hippie, that didn't occur until the seventies for me. What that meant was my cowboy days ended by age 6 and what took over was a desire to be a spy. They were everywhere in the sixties, James Bond(Sean Connery not those recent fags), Matt Helm, Flint, I Spy, Maxwell Smart(My Favorite), Mission Impossible, The Avengers etc. etc. I was so tired of riding my bicycle everywhere. I asked my parents for one of those cool backpack flying thingys like James Bond had. What I got was an attache case that unfolded into a rifle, had a secret compartment for a knife, a telescope, and an invisible ink-pen. My parents were obviously a little addle brained, just how was I going to navigate my bicycle with an attache case. They did not understand just how difficult it is to pedal, steer, and unfold your secret gun. Word to the wise here, riding a bicycle while looking through a telescope not a good idea.(thats all I'm gonna say about that)! Another useful note here invisible ink-pens are useless as you can't see what the hell your writing, and of course no-one can read it because, and maybe you're ahead of me here, it's invisible. Yes learning this spy trade was becoming hard work and even at that tender age I was very pro-lazy. Still a boy can dream. What a great job being a spy seemed like. Not only did you get these cool gadgets like telescopes never mind the fact I didn't realise they had been around since Galileos time, but you drove the coolest cars. My favorite spy car was a toss up between James Bonds-Aston Martin, and Matt Helm's '66 thunderbird. True 007's car had headlight machine guns, a tire mounted tire shredder(got one of those on my car now), but Matt Helm's car had a Martini bar in the trunk much better I believe. Drunk driving by the way was very much approved of in the sixties. People of the sixties reasoned if you can't drink and drive, how you gonna get your car home? Spies jet-setted to the most exotic locations, where vivacious women with evil intent seduced them. No long term commitment, do a little pickle tickle and karate chop them in the nick of time. My favorite evil woman has got to be "Pussy Galore" just on the name basis. Spies of the sixties wore the greatest clothes I can still see 007 going into the casino at Monte'Carlo wearing his white sport coat with black bowtie. The first time I went to a casino I wore the same clothes and was asked to park somebodies car, times have changed I guess. Plus another thing I noticed about spies was they never lost at cards or roulette, however I also have to note casinos are always owned by Mr. Evil Whomever-which is better you decide? Not to mention Mr. Evil Whomever has always already did that Ms. Vixen beauty you just karate chopped-again which is better? Still for all its pitfalls spying seemed like the life. As I grew older this dream did not fade, however I did not become a spy. The thing I started to notice in my numerous spy gifts is the one piece of information missing, was where to put in a job application to be a spy. I think thats the whole thing in a nutshell if you can figure out where to apply for the job, then you get the job. "Yes Mr. HootnHowell you found us here's your flying backpack, and shoe-phone your first assignment is to find out when lunch break is". "Very good then, off you go"! I also began to wonder just how these Mr. Evil Whomevers got such a dedicated and large work force? I mean one minute while working for Mr. Evil Whomever your turning a steam valve. The next minute your pulling a machine gun out of nowhere to fire at the intruding spy whom has infiltrated your secret hideout. What total job commitment. I figure Mr. Evil Whomever must have one hell of a benifits package. "Yes Mr. HootnHowell your hired report to the secret hideout tommorow promptly at 08:00 you'll be working in the steam room". "Don't forget to see Max our equipment manager to get your weapon & ammunition". " Oh and by the way Mr. HootnHowell if you forget your weapon or waste your ammunition we'll deduct it from your pay". But in the sixties we didn't question these things. If Gilligan and the crew could be stuck on an island for 7 yrs. without one of those women getting pregnant, and they didn't kill that asshole Professor for being able to make a car out of coconuts, but not be able to fix a hole in the boat. Then you can bet we didn't question the legitamacy of our sixties spies.

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