I had to have this. I jumped on my bike, I was a pretty fast guy on two wheels back then although not as fast as Barry Hoban who I once raced against. He went on to win eight stages of Le Tour and married Tommy Simpson's widow. My greatest achievement was in coming third out of five in a local (Lincolnshire) time trial and not marrying any widows.
I digress, I rode into nearby Louth as if I had the wind at my heels but, unlike the chap (Robert Browning) who wrote about bringing the good news from Ghent to Aix my journey seemed doomed to failure when the local record store told me they wouldn't have it 'til next week. Next week! A lifetime.
Just as Joris had done in the poem, I sprang to the stirrup (toe clips) and pedalled the twenty miles north to Grimsby where, to my delight, they had just received a delivery.
I listened to it in a booth and forked out about half a week's National Serviceman's pay for what will always be my favourite Sinatra disc. I still have that original album as well as a CD version.
Without that album there would be a lot of singers on the dole or whatever they call it in America. Lance
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