Achoo!

Spielberg couldn't wait to hear it. The director had expected to hear something melodic and other worldly, the kind of Song meant to symbolize the majestic terror of a great white shark. Instead, Spielberg heard only two notes played on the piano, two notes that started out slow before increasing in tempo, and you can probably hear those notes now.

In your mind. You can picture a dorsal fin breaking the surface of the water as it glides toward its next victim, and if you're listening to this near a large body of water, your heart rate probably just spiked. John Williams described it as that combination of sound and image forming a memory. Music has that effect on us. We can remember where we were when we first heard a life changing song or how we felt during the

first dance at our wedding. Even hearing the theme song to a beloved childhood cartoon can instill a sense of longing and nostalgia in us, taking us right back to our living rooms as we scarfed down a bowl of sugary cereal in front of the TV on a Saturday morning. But monty didn't know that his music would have the same effect decades later, especially given its unorthodox origins. He was born in London in April of Nineteen to Jewish

immigrant parents. His father had been born in Latvia and moved to England to work as a cabinet maker, while his mother was a seamstress. As he got older, Monty took an interest in music, encouraged by his mother, who presented him with his first guitar when he was just sixteen. When he got older, Monty enlisted in the Royal Air Force, where he deepened his musical interests and explored singing as

a career. He worked for a time as a big band singer in the nineteen fifties, and sixties for band leaders such as Cyril Stapleton and Nat Temple, before showcasing his talents in variety shows. He even appeared alongside entertainment legends like Benny Hill and Peter Sellers. And while he was making a name for himself on stage, Monty also worked behind the scenes as a composer and lyricist. He

was particularly skilled at adapting novels into stage musicals. In nineteen fifty nine he turned the nineteen fifty two book make me an offer by Wolf Mankowitz into a song and dance production, and in the early sixties he adapted the novel a House for Mr Bisus by vs Night Paul. He told the story of a man named Mohan Bisus from Trinidad and Tobago who was born with an extra finger. The young boy was prophesied to be a liar and a spendthrift, as well as a danger to his parents.

His father accidentally died trying to save him from drowning. This was was moved around from family member to family member until he grew up and got married. Following the expectations of others, however, it was his dream to build himself a house and a life of his own in which he could lay down roots and be happy. Monty finished the show, but it never saw the light of day.

It was shelved indefinitely. Sometime later, though, he was contacted by a pair of movie producers looking to work with him. They didn't want to film a house for Mr Bisuss, mind you. They were launching a brand new film franchise and wanted Monty to write the score for the first installment. He refused at first, but one of the producers offered him and his family a free trip to Jamaica, where the movie was being shot. He relented, happy to get

a vacation out of the deal. One of the key pieces of music needed for the film was a theme song. It would be the Lynch pin that held together everything, influencing the numera, motifs and variations that would be heard throughout the picture. Unfortunately, monty couldn't come up with anything. After several false starts, he delved into his archives, rediscovering one of his favorite compositions. It was a playful song from his unproduced musical house for Mr Biswas that he

titled Good Sign, bad sign. It's opening lyric. I was born with this unlucky sneeze was intended to be Sung over the plux of a Sitar, but the lyrics wouldn't do. Instead, he took the opening melody and rearranged it as an instrumental with less whimsical, more mysterious sounds to it. It was a vast improvement and should have worked well as a theme song. Sadly, even though the producers saw its potential,

they hated the arrangement. They gave it to another composer named John Barry, who reworked it to include strings, brassy trumpets and a Driving Electric Guitar riff that tied it all together. The producers, Harry Saltzman and Albert Cubby Broccoli, loved the new version. It was the perfect blend sexy and enigmatic, the ideal theme to embody their hot new hero, a British spy ripped from the pages of a popular novel.

Monty Nosurovich, otherwise known as Monty Norman, had taken his unused musical number and spun it into one of the most recognized movie theme songs in the world. It's usually heard over the image of a black and white gun barrel as a pans across the screen before a single gunshot causes a shock of red to cover the scene like a curtain. As John Williams said. It that combination of sound and image forming a memory, and you can hear.

It's in your mind, can't you, the theme song written for a legendary fictional character, a man named bond, James Bond. Excitement used to flood a town when a traveling circus came to that people would gather from all over to watch lion tamers and clowns and enormous elephants all put on a show under a big tent. Whenever the circus arrived, everyone knew they were in for a good time. Traveling acts were quite popular during the nineteenth in early twentieth centuries,

especially the unorthodox kinds. Spectators flocked to see all manner of exhibitions, such as side shows, hoping to catch a glimpse of something strange or even shocking. But for those who wanted to witness the face of true horror, they save their money to see painless Parker. Painless Parker was born Edgar R R Parker in Brunswick, Canada, in eighteen seventy two. As a child, he found opportunities to practice

one of his natural talents, salesmanship. He developed the skill through his life and got his start by convincing a neighbor to accept some fresh fish from him in exchange for their hand and some eggs. But Parker would go on to enroll at the New York College of dentistry when he was seventeen. Today it's part of N Y U as The New York University College of Dentistry. Unlike today, we're dent history as its own discipline, with its own

education and licensing standards. Dentistry in the late eighteen hundreds was much less regulated. Often dentists were either general physicians who did it on the side or apprentices who struck out on their own when they felt that they were good enough. So Parker, in need of money to put himself through school, started traveling door to door throughout New York City offering teeth cleanings for only a dollar or two. Eventually the Dean heard about Parker's little side hustle and

kicked him out for violating the school's policies. So the intrepid would be dentists went back to his hometown and did the same thing up there. Earning money to put himself through another dental school, this one in Pennsylvania. He attended Philadelphia Dental College years before it was absorbed into Temple University, and earned his degree. Barely diploma in hand, Parker struck out on his own and opened his own practice.

If only he could attract some new patients. Six weeks went by and only a few patients had walked through his door. So Park decided to think outside the box. He closed down his office and put it on wheels, kick starting a traveling operation. In he mounted his dental chair onto a horse drawn wagon, hired a cornet player and traveled from city to city performing feats of dental

deftness for the public. And did it work? Surprisingly yes, but it wasn't only because he made the science of dentistry a spectacle, nor was it the Cornet player who blared from the back of the wagon to coax people into the chair. Now, it was because Parker had advertised his services as painless. People didn't go to the dentists regularly back then because they thought it would hurt too much. But painless Parker, as he called himself, wanted to change that.

Of course, his methods would be frowned upon today, but back then they certainly did. The trick. Parker like to use a special solution he called Hydro Kane to numb the person's mouth before the procedure, and it's secret ingredient is hidden right there in the name cocaine. His shows often followed the same routine to Parker would roll into town and lure a big crowd around him. He would lecture them on proper oral hygiene and then make them an offer. He would remove any of their offending teeth

for fifty cents apiece painlessly. If they felt any discomfort, he would give them a five dollar refund. The patients then lined up to sit in his chair, at which time he would apply his special hydrocane solution and go to town on their rotting teeth. The live band played as Parker and his players got to work. The music wasn't just to announce his arrival in town either. It distracted the person sitting in the chair and covered the

sounds of their screams. He once made a necklace out of three hundred and fifty seven teeth that he had pulled after one day's work. It's currently on display at Temple University's Cornburg School of Dentistry and is exactly as terrifying and creepy as you think it is. After a while, though, parker ran into problems. For one, advertising dental services at that time was frowned upon and several times he found

himself on the receiving end of a lawsuit. He also came persona non grata back in New Brunswick and was run out of town. Parker eventually moved to New York with his family to try and build back his business. Low on money and rich in desperation, he reached out to someone who knew a thing or two about advertising, William Beebe an ex employee of P T barnum. With BEAB's guidance, Parker added a six piece band and a

circus tumbler to his show. He also advertised a lot more, putting up signs on the sides of buildings with catchy taglines like pains and pangs. Positively prevented, and it seems to have worked painless. Parker became quite successful in his dental career. By the time he hung up his pliers, he had launched his own product line and owned a chain of twenty eight offices with more than seventy dentists in his employee his income topped three million dollars per year,

but that hadn't been his ultimate goal. Sure, the money was welcome, but painless. Parker was more interested in preaching proper oral hygiene techniques. He wanted people to take care of their teeth, especially in rural and poorer areas where such a thing wasn't often practiced. was He unconventional in his methods? For sure. But you try getting someone to go to the dentist when they don't want to. It's almost like pulling teeth. I hope you've enjoyed today's guided

tour of the cabinet of curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple podcasts or learn more about the show by visiting curiosities PODCAST DOT COM. The show was created by me, Aaron Manky, in partnership with how stuff works. I make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast, book series and Television Show, and you can learn all about it over at the world of Lore Dot Com. And until next time, stay curious. Ye