In 1968, George Lazenby, now 85, was cast as James Bond in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, taking over a role made famous by Sean Connery. Unfortunately, Lazenby struggled to fit into the iconic character, partly due to poor advice he received. As his fame dwindled, he shifted focus to family life, ultimately facing tragedy with the loss of his son to a malignant brain tumor in 1994.
The James Bond franchise began in 1963 with Dr. No and has since become a cultural phenomenon, featuring numerous films and actors over the decades. Sean Connery, who portrayed Bond in five films between 1962 and 1967, grew weary of the role. In a 1965 interview with Playboy, he expressed his disinterest, stating he was “sick of this Bond thing”, and found the constant association with the character monotonous.
When Connery stepped away, producers faced the daunting task of finding a successor. Lazenby, then a 29-year-old unknown actor from Australia, caught their attention after appearing in commercials for Fry’s chocolate spread. His persistence and charm helped him land the coveted role. Lazenby even spent his last savings on a tailored suit that had originally belonged to Connery.
Upon auditioning, he boldly introduced himself by saying: “I heard you’re looking for James Bond”, and was subsequently offered the part. However, upon the release of On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, reviews were mixed, and comparisons to Connery overshadowed Lazenby’s performance. Notably, critic Gene Siskel remarked that Lazenby lacked the suave confidence of his predecessor.
Despite the criticism, Lazenby was presented with a $1 million contract for six more films, but his manager advised against it, suggesting he pursue other opportunities. This decision led to Lazenby being “blacklisted” in Hollywood, with a reputation for being difficult to work with.
After a brief career in film and television, Lazenby shifted to a more private life. He married Christina Gannet in 1971, and they had two children. Tragically, their son Zachary battled a brain tumor for eight years before passing away at 19, leaving Lazenby “devastated”. Gannet shared on social media that losing Zachary was a profound sorrow for them both.
Following his son’s death, Lazenby divorced Gannet and later married Olympic tennis champion Pam Shriver, with whom he has three children. Now, Lazenby reflects on his life and cherishes his role as a father, stating: “The real successes in my life are my children”. Remember Lazenby’s portrayal of Bond? Share your thoughts on his legacy!
Privileged Parents Excused Their Child for Kicking My Seat on the Flight, Claiming “He’s Just a Kid!”, Karma Delivered Them a Teachable Moment
On a long flight, a woman’s patience is tested by a child who kicks her seat and parents who ignore the disruption. What begins as a frustrating ordeal soon takes a surprising turn, revealing that karma has a way of delivering unexpected lessons.
As I settled into my aisle seat for a seven-hour flight, I hoped for some much-needed relaxation. With a book in hand, noise-canceling headphones on, and a good playlist ready, I thought I was prepared for the journey ahead. The cabin was packed and the air felt stuffy, but I was willing to endure it for a peaceful trip.
Then it began. A soft thumping at the back of my seat started to grow louder. Initially, I dismissed it, thinking a child was just adjusting in their seat. But the thumping became a steady rhythm, kick, kick, kick, each hit harder than the last.
I turned around and saw a boy, around six or seven, swinging his legs and grinning as if he were having a great time. His sneakers repeatedly slammed into my seat, creating a mini drum concert. His parents, seated nearby, were glued to their phones, completely unaware of the chaos their child was causing. I hoped the boy would tire out soon, or that his parents would notice, but the kicks only intensified.
After what felt like an eternity, I finally decided I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I turned around, offering a polite smile and asked the parents to ask their son to stop kicking my seat. The mother barely acknowledged me, dismissing my request with a “He’s just a kid!” before returning to her phone. I tried again, but the father was too engrossed in a video to care. Sensing his parents’ indifference, the boy kicked even harder, laughing as if he were winning some game at my expense.
I pressed the call button for the flight attendant, hoping she could help. She arrived, friendly and professional, and I explained the situation. She approached the family, asking them kindly to stop the boy from kicking my seat. For a brief moment, there was silence.
But as soon as she walked away, the kicks resumed, even more forceful this time. Frustrated, I stood up and spoke louder, asking them again to control their child. The mother rolled her eyes, and the father muttered something dismissive. The boy laughed and kicked harder. At this point, I was fed up. I called the attendant again, asking if I could switch to another seat. She returned shortly with good news: there was a seat available in first class.
Without hesitation, I grabbed my belongings and followed her to the front of the plane. The first-class section was a welcome relief, spacious, quiet, and free of children. I settled into my new seat, and the tension melted away. I was finally able to relax, enjoying a drink and diving into my book.
As the flight continued smoothly, I overheard the attendants talking about my old seatmates. The boy had found a new target for his kicks, an elderly woman who had taken my place. When she asked him to stop, the mother snapped at her, escalating the situation to a shouting match that caught the attention of the flight crew. I felt a twinge of sympathy for the elderly woman but couldn’t deny the poetic justice unfolding. As we prepared to land, I noticed security vehicles waiting by the gate.
When we disembarked, I saw the family being escorted off the plane by security officers. The boy, who had been so bold earlier, was now crying, clinging to his mother. The parents looked embarrassed, no longer the dismissive people they had been. I left the airport feeling a sense of satisfaction that surprised me. Karma had intervened, allowing me to enjoy my first-class experience and witness a bit of justice served.
As I walked past the family, I couldn’t help but smile at them. It was a small gesture, but it felt like the closure I needed. Sometimes, the universe has a way of balancing things out, and that day, it certainly did. With my book finished and my flight experience greatly improved, I walked away with a story that would surely entertain friends in the future.
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