Roger Moore - Roger Moore: À bientôt

First published in Great Britain in 2017 by

Michael OMara Books Limited

9 Lion Yard

Tremadoc Road

London SW4 7NQ

Copyright Miramont Investments Limited, 2017

All rights reserved. You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN: 978-1-78243-861-8 in hardback print format

ISBN: 978-1-78243-862-5 in ebook format

Illustrations from the authors private collection unless credited otherwise

www.mombooks.com

CONTENTS

Foreword by Deborah Moore

Introduction

A Sense of Ninety Years

Wartime Memories

The Joy of Travelling

What Might Have Been

Family

The Old Grey Matter and Technology

Things That Annoy Me

Things They Never Tell You to Expect

The World of Work

On Final Reflection

Afterword

Acknowledgements

FOREWORD

by DEBORAH MOORE

Not so long ago Dad and I were having a laugh about the pros and cons of getting older. He was complaining, which he seldom did, about his knees and the tingling he would get in his feet that would drive him mad. Those two cons of old age he managed because of his unbelievable zest for life and the totally optimistic approach he had to everything.

I still feel as if I am in my twenties, he told me. But when I look in the mirror I say, Who the hell are you?!

My father was not a vain man in the least and his childlike sense of humour meant that he embraced getting older with such dignity and fortitude.

For Dad, the pros of getting older were seeing his grandchildren grow and spending time with his family, for whom he had so much love and time to give.

He was, as he himself would be the first to admit, somewhat of a hypochondriac: chemists were to him what Jimmy Choo is to those daft enough to love walking in high heels. My apologies, ladies!

He always had the best doctors and so, when he became ill just after Christmas 2016 and having embarked on writing this book, he never for a minute thought that he would not live to see it published.

With the help of his trustworthy and favourite co-star/PA Gareth Owen, he did finish this book of memories and funny incidents he experienced throughout his life and I hope that you the reader will laugh with and at the antics that my beloved Dad got up to and away with.

I am sure he is telling his naughty jokes to all his mates up in the heavens and giving the angels something to flutter their wings about.

I love you, Dad.

Deborah

INTRODUCTION

The poet Dante believed old age starts at forty-five. The United Nations suggests it begins at sixty. Meanwhile, in 2016, the Daily Express newspaper reported that Britons do not see themselves as elderly until they are nudging eighty-five.

Well, as I write, Im in my ninetieth year. Ninety! Where did those years go?

But what is old age? Does it define us? Does it inhibit us? You cant escape it, you cant avoid it well, you can, but the alternative isnt to be recommended so you just have to embrace it. Mind you, Old Folks Home doesnt exactly sound like a place you want to add to your bucket list, does it? It has a ring of finality about it, and thats why the graceful Dame Judi Dench says she doesnt allow the word old to be spoken in her house, as it suggests she is past it and that is quite clearly not the case.

Do I feel old? Not at all! Though my body may creak and groan a bit more now than it used to.

It always amuses me that children measure their years in fractions: Im three and a quarter or Im four and a half!, before rounding it up as soon as possible. Later on in life, youll find people do the reverse, insisting that theyre not almost ninety-five, but ninety-four-and-three-quarters. Better still, in middle age, we dont use fractions; we use euphemisms such as fifty-plus or the third age. While children and teenagers long to grow older and acquire the greater freedoms and privileges that come with ageing it used to be your twenty-first birthday but now its your eighteenth the cosmetics industry and the anti-ageing market has extended at both ends, with endless products and potions for mature skin, but also anti-ageing creams for twenty-somethings

When my publishers reminded me I am going to be fairly ancient this year, they suggested I might once again put finger to keyboard and come up with a tome to tie in with my upcoming celebration. I started reflecting and thinking about age, people, places and the good fortune Ive enjoyed across these past decades. This is a book about some of those memories, many irreverent, along with some thoughts of what might have been, some sideways glances, and a few grumbles. You see Ive lived through so many landmark events ranging from the introduction of television, World War II, the first man on the moon, the start and end of the Cold War, the birth of the internet ... and so very much more. I suddenly realized that yes, I really am that old.

Then, there are some of the absurdities advancing age brings with it. For example:

When you still feel twenty-one inside but wonder who the old fart in the bathroom mirror staring back at you is.

When you thought sick meant someone was ill.

When you tune into the radio and hear theyre playing a golden oldie, only to realize its from 1988.

When you realize easy-open tin is the very definition of an oxymoron.

When you look at a bathtub and wonder, if you get in it, will you ever get out?

With my tongue firmly placed in my cheek, its now time to get on ...

With my older cousin Doreen who liked to keep me firmly grounded with tales of our youth together.

A SENSE OF NINETY YEARS

When contemplating how to start this book I thought I would cast my mind back to my earliest memories, which is not as easy as you might think. It was then that I realized that so many recollections are not in fact linked to places or dates, but rather to smells and sounds. I shouldnt be too surprised I guess, as, after all, we humans have five main senses: sight, touch, taste, plus the all-important smell and hearing. Yet rarely do we appreciate just how intrinsically those last two are linked to our most treasured memories.

Whenever I picture my parents I instantly get a waft of my mothers favourite perfume and my fathers trusted aftershave lotion. These fragrances are etched onto my brain and, along with other childhood smells, hold a privileged status in my memory bank, conjuring up all sorts of happy thoughts. Some experts say that smells trigger memories because our ancestors were more dependent on their noses to avoid poisonous plants, rotten food or enemies about to attack I prefer to think they just evoke happy memories!