Thanksgiving 2010

I am smoking the turkey for the first time this year – I have done breasts before but not a whole bird. I got a smaller one, about eleven pounds and have it in the smoker with some apple wood at 325 degrees and steady. It should be ready in about two or three more hours at the most. My part of Thanksgiving dinner will be the turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes and gravy. I will make a pumpkin pie; Mom is doing the rest – a fruit salad and green beans. We will eat well.

Things for which I am thankful… I am thankful for being born in this, the free-est country in the world. There are others like us in the free world, but my nation started the movement 250 years ago. I am especially thankful for the men and women who came before us, struggled and made this possible. When I think of those in other parts of the world, even civilized parts of the world, like China, who cannot even speak their thoughts without risk of retribution, persecution, even death, then I think that I am most fortunate.

We acknowledge that things are not perfect, but we can grouse and complain without fear. And we truly can change some of the things we don’t like. Oh yes, it is a struggle and sometimes we fail when we find there are overwhelming powers that are arrayed against us, but there is unresistable power in our citizenry when we unite.  May we never forget that.  And someday, our rights and freedoms will be universal for ALL Americans; we will make that happen.

I am thankful for my health as good as it is, and for the medical care and science that helps me maintain it. I should take better care of myself! I could make better choices sometimes, but Nurse Teel is a goddess!

I am thankful for my lovely dottir, who is finding her way in the world and making a success of herself as a human being. I am glad that all my children are healthy; I love them all.

I am especially thankful for the extracurricular privileges I have been afforded; so many others struggle just to survive, but I have an easy existence and in particular, I have been able to travel and learn beyond my equitable share, beyond what was even imaginable for an average human being just 150 years ago.

I am grateful for many simple things; sitting outside in the evening to watch the sunset or the stars, campfires, rich coffee with chocolate, or just chocolate… hearing waves crash onto a shore, a good book…my warm and snug bed in the early morning – or the LATE morning as the case may be. I am so fortunate to have the few good friends that bless me… Dave, Gloria and Jim, Dick and Susie, Minette, Chad and Lisa, and some others.  I am also fortunate to have such a simple, uncomplicated life.  I treasure the warmth of the Arizona sunshine on my face and am most thankful for warm, home-made apple pie.

I am lucky beyond measure to have a profession that I love; one that can have a positive impact on others’ lives, if they would just LISTEN to me!

I am thankful for my family, especially those that came just before me, many of whom I knew and loved but are no longer present in this particular world. Life is short, fast and by no means certain. The older I get, the more I realize that each moment is essentially stolen time. I am thankful for all those stolen moments and for those still to come should there be more.  I am thankful to be living in this exciting time.

I am thankful for all of these things.

Rex admirabilis
et triumphator nobilis,
dulcedo ineffabilis,
totus desiderabilis, totus desiderabilis.

In Search of William Swain

In the spring of 1849, William Swain rode away from his family’s farm in Youngstown, New York and joined in one of the seminal adventures of American history. He caught a lake steamer to Chicago, another boat to St Louis, and a third to Independence, Missouri, where he bought into a “joint-stock company” of Michigan men who then set off on foot, horseback and wagon to the California goldfields. Narrowly avoiding disaster, they barely made it before winter snows froze the California mountains.

He waited out the winter of ’49-‘50, then labored for little gain along some California rivers through the summer and fall before his family convinced him to give up his golden dream and return home to New York. He left California, traveled by packet ship to Central America, and there trekked through the isthmus jungles from the Pacific to the Atlantic coast. He boarded a steamer to New York City via Havana, arrived ill, but his ever-steadfast brother George found him there and brought him home to Youngstown. He lived out a long life and died an old man as he worked in his garden.

William was “everyman,” participating in a national adventure that changed America and that shapes our lives and thoughts about ourselves even today. It is difficult to overstate the impact the California gold rush had on the history and development of the United States and its people. What made Swain even more significant to history is that he wrote a literate, complete and coherent account, a diary, of his journey to California. He also communicated by letter from along the California Trail. He continued writing letters while he waited through the winter and then worked in the California gold “diggings” the following summer. These documents were treasured by his children and grandchildren and finally were offered to historian and professor J. S. Holliday who used them to complete a book; that book is one of the most engrossing and interesting accounts of the Gold Rush migration available today. (J.S. Holliday; The World Rushed In)

What I found most fascinating about William Swain was that he didn’t disappear as many of his gold rush contemporaries did. Even the ones who wrote about their experiences tended to be a part of that one national moment and then nothing else; there were a few exceptions of course. In general though, where did they go? How did the Gold Rush experience shape their subsequent lives? Like few others, you can easily find the answers to those questions for William Swain. History is a composite of all the little stories that made up our ancestor’s lives – and here is one of them, laid out in detail for us to enjoy. Forget how the study of history “helps us not to repeat the mistakes of the past,” and “if you want to see where we’re going, you have to look where we’ve been.” With Swain’s diary and letters, presented in Holliday’s book in concert with the larger history of the 1849 gold rush as a background, we can see how one extraordinary citizen, along with his friends and family, participated in one of the greatest mass migrations in any nation’s history. This is exciting stuff!

I have stood on the ground where Washington accepted the British surrender at Yorktown and touched the seam of his tent (on display there). I have walked in Travis' footsteps at the Alamo. I've seen the track of the Wright Brothers’ first flight at Kitty Hawk. I know at ground level the place where Crazy Horse was murdered at Fort Robinson, NE; where Custer surveyed the Little Bighorn Valley in Montana from a mountaintop just before his last fight, and the exact spot where Geronimo stood to have his photograph taken at Fort Bowie, AZ one September day in 1886. I can pick out and match the foundation stones in now-ruined frontier Army post homes as I compare them against historical photographs. I have read the inscribed signatures of 49ers and others on the Register Cliffs, along the dry-desert route of the California-Oregon Trail. And I have stood where William Swain stood, both on the trail, and at home in Youngstown. Being in these places, on the ground where our ancestors stood and knowing the history that took place there is moving – and exhilarating.

After re-reading Swain’s diary in The World Rushed In for about the third time, I thought that if I was ever able to visit Youngstown, NY, I would see if I could find William and his family. He lived in a “cobblestone farmhouse” on the “River Road.” On his return to Youngstown in 1851, he became a prosperous farmer, a peach-grower, one of the largest in western New York in his day. His brother and best friend George, also in Youngstown, was a public servant for most of his lifetime. Would there not still be some traces of them around their life-long home?

Looking at maps of the Youngstown area, I found Swain Road. Given the description of the farm in the book, I could almost guess where the Swain farmhouse was built (in 1836). I made plans to go there, look for the house and see if I could find the graves of William, George and their families.

I drove to the corner of Swain Road and Main Street in Youngstown in October 2008, and from there to the place where I thought the cobblestone house would be. There was nothing there but a very small pump-house. Disappointed that my satellite photo and map-sleuthing were errant (how can one mistake a six-foot tall pump house for a farmhouse!), I headed back out toward the highway – but stopped when I saw a resident and asked him if he knew anything about the Swains. He did. He directed me to the nearby home of Betty Van Zandt – and said I should speak with her about her home – which I found had been built by William for his daughter Lila (or Eliza). I was in the right neighborhood after all. Betty Van Zandt referred me to Margery Stratton, who, she said, could help me with further information about the local area, she having sold most of the houses in the area, some more than once.

Swain's home

It turned out the “cobblestone farmhouse” so often mentioned by William in his writings was immediately next door. I took photos, walked around, and looked for any peach trees that might have descended from those that William and his brother had planted. I didn’t find any -- but peach trees aren’t known for being long-lived.

I read the monument near the house about the battle that took place in pre-Revolutionary War times on that very spot. I took photos of the foundation stones in the bridge across the drainage in front of the house – figuring they were most likely original to the time the farm was built. I wondered which upper-story window Sabrina Swain might have sat behind as she wrote letters to her absent and sorely-missed husband, and where in the yard William’s garden and grape vines might have been. Then I went to meet Margery Stratton.

I spent an hour or so with Ms Stratton at the local historical society’s library, reading some of the letters and information written about the Swains, who were prominent local citizens. Armed with information provided by the helpful members of the society, I set off to the Oakland Rural Cemetery to find the Swains.

It took some time, but I found all the last resting places of the family – except for father Isaac, and his 2nd wife, Patience. Perhaps they are in a different part of the cemetery – or in an older cemetery somewhere close by. William and Sabrina’s youngest son is also not with the rest of the family

After reading so much about them, I feel almost as if they are friends. Seeing their home in Youngstown and the places that were familiar to them, when I read the passages they wrote I can imagine more vividly what their lives were like; what they saw, almost what they felt at certain times.

As William returned home from the California gold fields in 1851, he and George topped the hill south of Youngstown in their wagon, probably about where Ridge Road above Lewiston is today. They stopped, and William stood up to survey the valley he had not seen for almost two years. He pronounced it the most beautiful of all the scenes he had witnessed. Don’t we all feel that way about our homes? You can see that same view today – just as he did when he returned from his long gold-rush quest. When I last saw it, it was cloaked in the beautiful autumn colors of northern New York State. And based on the description in J.S. Holliday’s book, I knew exactly what I was looking at; William had seen and vividly described the same view in 1851.

Now that I've seen William and Sabrina's New York home, perhaps I can see his diggings on the other side of the country. I think I just might be able to find the spot where William and his partners built their cabin and dug for gold on the beautiful Feather River above Sacramento, California. Today, the exact site is under lake water, but I might be able to get close.

Las aventuras en México: Gen y Bob fue a la playa...

Gen on Los Algodones Playa, San Carlos, Sonora

A few years ago, my friend Gen and I went to the beach… in Mexico. We both like the beach; we both like Mexico. It seemed a natural thing to do. Now, it was a great trip and we both have many wonderful memories from it I’m certain. But Gen has made dark allusions to our adventure on this blog and I must set the record straight and clear my good name.

There are many things to tell about this journey… all about getting through customs without getting arrested for faulty paperwork, how we drove into town and walked around after dark without getting kidnapped or killed, how we ate the fruit and drank the water… how we survived a federale roadblock and drove on a narrow mountain highway with Mexican truck and autobus drivers and actually lived to tell about it. How we negotiated the rush hour downtown traffic of Hermosillo with calmness and tranquility… Not least, I could tell how U.S. Customs was so hungry and deprived of ripe red apples that they confiscated mine just so they could have one. After all, that must have been the reason because it was an American apple, not a Mexican apple. But these fine stories will have to wait for another occasion.

Today, I just want to tell you about the beach. Since Ms. Genevieve has brought it up… We both wanted to spend some time on the beach so we drove out to Los Algodones beach just about an hour before sunset. The beach was a few miles north of Guaymas (and San Carlos) and we were told it was one of the nicest ones around there. On arrival, we discovered we had it all to ourselves. This made us both a little uneasy but we stayed anyway. There was no parking lot, of course, so we pulled my ½ ton truck onto the seemingly hard-packed sand of the beach.

A couple of words about the beach itself – it lies next to a scimitar-shaped “bay” and trying to reconstruct its dimensions from my memory, I’d say maybe ¼ mile long. It was a couple of hundred feet wide at the most – maybe much less. But it was a beautiful little beach with a beached boat on it (see photo) and some islands offshore that lent a ruggedness to its scenic appearance. Some of the scenes from the film “Catch 22” were filmed there. Again, there was no parking lot. We drove out onto the sand… for a few feet; the sand was fairly hard-packed and was no problemo. Farther out, it got softer and thicker, even, you might say, fluffier. Gen kept saying “go a little farther out” and “park over there, why don’t you…” So I did.

We got our ice chest, spread an old sleeping bag on the sand and enjoyed the remaining rays of the sun and watched a beautiful sunset. Gen had a glass of wine and I drank a Diet Coke… and we smoked cigars! These were not big stogie-type cigars, but thinner cigarillo-type cigars. And I swear I did NOT inhale… So the sun goes down. It gets dark. And we start to feel very alone and vulnerable.

Gen, another beach, another day...

By and by we decide to head back to town. We loaded up the truck and I thought it might be easy to just turn around in a circle instead of backing up. Had we stayed on the harder-packed portions of the beach, this would not have been too much of a problem. But on that softer, fluffier sand, it was. Pretty soon, the truck was dug in up to the wheels. Well, we investigated all our options. No help in sight. Not too much in the way of tools to dig ourselves out. Several miles to walk back to town, leaving the truck on the beach unprotected. None of this seemed of any promise, exactly. What we did have, was a sleeping bag. 

So I jammed the sleeping bag under the rear wheels to gain a little traction and then we both tried to push but that didn’t work. Then I got Gen to push and I steered and depressed the accelerator just so. This took great finesse… and got us a few feet at a time before we’d run out of sleeping bag. Then we’d move the remnant of the bag to the front of the tire again and repeat the process. And repeat, and repeat, and repeat. Finally, we reached the firmer sand and we were both able to get in the truck and ride. Genevieve was really great at pushing though, I have to say; she is quite a truck-pusher.

I learned several lessons on Los Algodones Playa…

1. Never drive your street pick-up truck on the beach. ANY beach.

2. Make sure you take tools, so that if you do get (inadvertently) off-road and find yourself mired, you can get out easily. At minimum, at least have a nice, thick, sleeping bag.

3. Make sure you have a strong and healthy young person to “help” push – while you steer of course and finesse that accelerator. No one knows how to do this better than you.  I mean, it's your truck, right?

4. Alternatively, you might wish to confine your beach adventures to those strands where you will always have plenty of company. It is a sinking feeling to find yourself hopelessly mired on a lonely beach five miles from the nearest town…

It sure was a pretty beach though. I was very happy to share it with my friend.

Rambling recollections of old Tombstone as put down by Harley Joe, a local cowboy (1929); being an account of the gunfight at the OK Corral.

Wyatt Earp died just t'other day. I knew him. My name is Harley J. McClendon, and I was a cow-hand. Now that I'm gettin older, I want to put down some of my thoughts and opinions 'bout those old days on paper while I can still remember how it was. You know how that goes… you get to be eighty or so and purty soon, you cain’t remember nuthin.

I was there when the Earp brothers shot the McLowrys and Billy Clanton. Well, near-by anyways. I hear'd the gunfight. I was about as far away as a boy could hit a rabbit with a sling-shot. There been lots of arguments about what really happened, one side sayin' things, the other side disagreein' about it. I got my own opinion.

Most folks who was around then know exactly what happened and why. It warnt no mystery. Some others want to change the truth and make their friends or relations look better to folks who don’t know no better. I’ve seen it writ down lots that the McLowrys and Billy was murdered. That’s horse dung. They was killed legal and justifiable because they bumped and bully-ragged the law. Same thing would happen today, if you done the same as they did. And the Earp brothers was the law, that's a fact.

I was working on ranches around that area – I been a cowhand all my life, startin in Texas when I was just a snot-nose. I followed Texas John to this place when he moved his herd from Texas to Arizona, and then I kindy stayed around here right up until today. It’s pretty country and there was always lots of work. Texas John was a good man, but mostly I worked for Mr. Hooker up by Benson. I’m too old to work now, so I hangs out around Benson or Willcox mostly and plays cards with my buddies -- them that's still upright anyways -- and I drinks whisky sometimes.

During the summer of 1881 when I was about 30 years of age, I broke my laig and couldn’t do my usual chores around Mr. Hooker’s place. He offered me work close-in that didn’t require me to work around the stock much – so as to give my laig a chance to heal up proper, but a workin hand doesn’t get the chance to hang around town reg'lar, so I told ‘im I’d rather go work in town for a few months and maybe see what was happenin around there. Experience the wild side, so to say. Tombstone was a hoppin’ place around then, so that’s where I went. I got work at Vogan’s takin care of things behind the bar. I warn’t fast but I did OK. Nobody complained much and even those that did warnt likely to pick on a cripple much.

During those months the bad blood between the Earps and the rough bunch called “the Cowboys” just got worse and worse. The “Cowboys” wasn’t all bad folk – some of ‘em I liked pretty well and got along with mostly. Some were worse than others, but that’s about the way it is I think, pretty much always. There’s reg'lar folk and then there’s bullies, there's princes and there's skunks. Some folks would say the Earps was bullies but I’d just say they was straightforward. They wouldn’t tolerate no rudeness. At the same time, if you got in the way of a "Cowboy’s" biness, they’d come down on you pretty hard too.  And that’s what the Earps done. So I reckon there was always bound to be trouble between ‘em.

I think that right off, the Earps just tried to avoid the Cowboys. They was wantin to be biness men, and stay out of the law biness. Then Virgil got into the law biness anyways by bein hired by Marshal White as a deputy and as the days went by, the Cowboys felt like the Earps was in their way. They didn’t like that and they run their mouths too much about what they was goin to do about it – and you caint threaten men like Wyatt or Virgil Earp too much. They was too accustomed to takin’ charge of things before they get too out of hand, havin been in the law biness before and bein pretty good at it too. Once they felt like they was threatened, well, that’s when hell come down the street with ‘em.

I think the Cowboys never knew what kind of men they was facin' – they kept thinkin the Earps would cut and run. They never did. It says a lot that ever' time the Earps shot a body, it was face to face and gunplay was the last thing that happened. Every time them Cowboys shot a body, it was from behind or from ambush in the dark. That’s what kind of vermin some of them was, at least those that was involved in the Tombstone fracas. That's a fact. Some of 'em just wassent decent men.

Things got worse when Curly Bill Broshus ac'dently kilt Marshall White. Most folks thinks it really was a accident – but the Earps never could see that. Even the Marshal said it warnt a'purpose before he died and he were in a position to know. Curly Bill was down around where the Bird Cage is nowdays – but then it was not built yet. He was some likkered up and was shootin off his gun in the air, just whoopin’ it up. He ain’t the only one that ever done that. But Fred White went down there to take his guns away and Curly Bill whirled one of ‘em around on his fingers to give it to him (just playin' the fool and bein' sassy, you know) and when Marshal White grabbed the biness end of it, that Colt went off and shot him below the belly.

A bunch of us had gathered around and was watchin – and it sure looked like a accident to me. Right off Curly Bill was regretful about it. He said he liked Fred White and didn’t mean to shoot him (he din't die till later). But Virgil Earp was Fred White's deputy and he took Bill to jail and kep' him there. That were a good thing. There was lots of folks that wanted to exact punishment on Curly Bill right there on the spot 'cause lots of folks around here liked Fred White. But Virgil kep' him outta sight and safe until things calmed up some -- then Judge Spicer turned him loose again after he ruled it was a accidental death.

I know some of them cowboys thought Curly Bill was treated bad by them Earps when most everbody else said Bill never meant no harm. They thought Virgil was against 'em then and they never forgot that. I ain’t sayin the Earps was bad men – but they was hard men and sometimes they made a mistake or two. But they done Bill a favor that night. He never did return it though, right up until the day he died. He never gave 'em so much as a "how do you do."

This is probly where I ought to say what I know about Ike Clanton. Not too many folks thought much of 'im. I always thought him a blowhard and a bragger from what I saw, and he were always quick to get mad about any little thing. I thought he was a bully and a coward as most bullies are. Later events proved me right in that I reckon and in the end he came to no good and it warnt very long neither.

Ike’s pappy was kilt by Mexicans he had wronged over to Skeleton Canyon, in August that year I think. The Clantons was involved in “international trade.” Most of the stock they run was acquired after dark down in Sonora, and most the time they never waited around long enough to pay or get a "bill of sale,” if you understand my meaning. This makes them outlaws, I s'pose, but in those days this warnt really considered a bad thing unless it was the Mex'cans gettin’ their cows and caballos from you that way. Them kinds of cross-border transactions was common, all along the border all the way from Texas and the Rio Bravo. After his daddy was shot dead, Ike kinda lost his good nature some. He hanged out a lot in the waterin holes around town, or over to Charleston where his pappy’s ranch was. And mostly he was just looking to start fights other folks could finish for ‘im.

Before that, back in the Spring I think, the Clantons got sideways with the Earps and some others because they had one of Wyatt’s favorite horses, stole from him in 1879 or 80 and they knowed it was a stold horse and didn’t give it back. This got under Wyatt Earp’s skin and itched him some. Then the deal with Curly Bill and Fred White come about, and pretty soon there warnt no good feeling at all between any of ‘em. Around that time, there was stage robberies and other crimes that the Cowboys din’t deny too strongly bein’ a part of, and that kind of behavior never set too well with lawmen like Wyatt Earp. So in the end neither one of 'em was inclined to give the other much rope.

On the night before the fight, Ike was hanging around at the Oriental, playing cards with Virgil Earp and John Holliday. “Doc” was in a foul mood, which was pretty normal for 'im, he warn’t ever very affable anyways. But that night he was pos'tively mean. He wasn’t well, you know, and was mostly ornery ‘cause of that, and he might never been very nice in the first place. So him and Ike was pickin at each other all night long and things got pretty tense a few times. Doc knew how to get to 'im and warnt afraid to do it.

By the first light of the mornin, the game was breakin up and Ike and Holliday got into it pretty bad and Ike stomped out talkin death to the Earps and to Doc Holliday. Doc didn’t care much about what Ike said, kep' him in front of ‘im all the time mostly, didn't get rattled too much but kep' eggin him on too. But then Virgil tried to calm Ike down some, kep' tellin him to go get some sleep. Virgil threatened to arrest both of 'em if they didn't stop it. I didn’t see any of this, but honest people I knowed did. The barman at the Oriental was a friend of mine and he saw the whole fi-esta.

The whole town was hangin around and waitin for something to happen that morning. It was a fair and sunny day, crisp in the mornin and warm in the later hours – and very clear like you only see down in this country. You never saw such a blue sky. But things was tense. Everbody knew things was goin to bust loose that day. The Earps wasn’t out early, but the Clantons was. And later the McLowrys too.

So, me and Swain Slaughter was sittin out front of Vogan’s havin a smoke and just talkin about things, when we saw the McLowrys and Billy Claiborne walk by down on 4th Street, heading toward Fremont Street. We was about a block away and we couldn’t see where they went after they crossed Allen. So, being curious we got up and moved down ter in front of the Occidental Hotel on that corner to see if we could see what was goin to happen.

Up until that day, I never heard the McLowrys say nothin about the Earps – I don’t know they had ever met until then. That morning though, they was real mouthy about what they was going to do to the Earps, and Ike Clanton was blowin around town the same way. The McLowrys was tellin the whole town that they was against the Earps and Doc and they was goin to DO something about it right then. It warnt long before the Earps and Doc Holliday got wind of it. Ike already got hisself arrested once that morning – carryin a gun in town – and got fined and released by Judge Spicer. He was probly still half-lit from the night before playin’ cards and drinkin, and Virgil finally jerked him up, beaned him and hauled him down to the court. As he was leavin’ he threatened the Earps s'more, face to face. Those cowboys din’t appreciate anyone tellin 'em that the law applied to them too – not just other folks. They even threatened the judge a few times. And the Earps din't 'preciate bein threatened.

Around that same time, I heard Frank Wolcott say that Wyatt had came across Tom McLowry in the street and hit him over the head with his pistol when Tom threatened to fight him -- or kill him. It goes without sayin' that if the Earps intended to kill those men that they coulda killed both of 'em at these times, they'd a been justified, but they din’t. The Earps was basically honest men. But a smart man won't threaten a good man -- not if he knows what's what -- not if he wants to live to be a old man. Heck, them Earps coulda kilt Ike at the gunfight -- but they dint 'cause they thought he warnt armed. Even Doc coulda kilt him then but he din't -- and he were a cold, mean son-of-a-cuss.

Tombstone’s streets started to look pretty empty about then. There was some folks out watching the goins-on, but not that many, not like usual. Folks was afraid of getting hit by wild bullets I reckon. Wyatt was sittin in Hafford’s. Me an’ Swain could see him sittin in there smokin cause it was right across the street from where we was. Virgil was standin out front with Morgan on 4th Street in front of Hafford's, watchin where Ike and Billy Clanton, Billy Claiborne and the McLowrys went ter. Doc Holliday warn’t around right then – he mighta bin over at the Can Can, we warn’t sure.

A few minutes later, a coupla folks came from over around Fly’s and said that Billy and Ike Clanton and the McLowrys was over by Fly’s yelling around and saying how they was going to kill all the Earps and Doc too. In partic'lar, Ike was still holding bad feelins against Doc Holliday. Doc had a room with Mrs. Fly and I think they figured they’d waylay him when he came home from wherever he was at, four or five against one. I don’t think they figured on all the Earp brothers comin with ‘im. Them was odds they didn't like and I think it sobered 'em up some. But it was too late by then as things turned out.

Me an’ Swain watched Wyatt come out from Hafford’s, and he and Virgil talked for a couple of minutes. It looked like they was arguin. Morgan didn’t say much, from what we could see. Then Holliday walked over – we didn’t see where he come from - din't see him until he got there. And then they talked some more, maybe a minute or two. Then we seen Virgil hand Doc a short scatter gun, Doc put it under his coat and they all walked down 4th toward Fremont.

They turned left onto Fremont, and went out of sight around the corner, all walking side by side. It was something to see, like right out of the Bible. They wasn’t moving fast, nor slow. Just steady and determined like. This only took a couple of minutes at most and me and Swain was talking about whether we should go inside or not. Next thing we heard was the shootin. There was a bunch of that; we heard the shotgun twice, we heard lots of pistol fire and we heard rifle fire. And then it was all quiet except for a bunch of yellin and screamin.

We din’t go down there right away, not knowin what was happenin. After a few minutes, curiosity got the better of us and since it was getting quieter, we cut over through the OK livery and toward the back, where we heard the shots come from. Ike was doing most of the yellin – Virgil was wounded in the laig and it looked like everbody else except Morgan and Wyatt Earp was dead. Doc was scraped up some, I think a bullet grazed him a little. Tom was a'layin out in the road, dead. Billy Clanton was crumpled up against a wall and he died pretty hard from the looks of it. Frank was shot to pieces. The Earps was takin Virgil away, and some other folks took the bodies of Billy and the McLowrys into the house there next to where the fight was, on the other side of Fly's. Later on, the undertaker came and got them and put them all in coffins.

Mrs. Fly said Ike and Sheriff Behan run from the fight into her store until the shootin was all done (aint that funny -- the big instigator wer too much a coward to even be in the fight he started!). Then he started runnin his mouth again as usual, tellin everbody around that the Earps had murdered his brother. He never told how it was his big mouth that got the whole thing to the point where it warnt to be avoided.

Henry Sills said that the Earps and Doc walked up to where they was at, and faced them one for one. Virgil said they was there to take their guns, but while they was chewin on that, Doc pulled back the hammers on that scatter gun. They all heard those two big clicks and they all knowed what they was, and right then everbody started shootin. Virgil yelled right at the last that he didn't want gunplay, tried to stop it, but it wer too late. It only took a few seconds and them lawmen was cooler and better shots in a clinch than them Cowboys was.

Johnny Behan said he was gonna arrest Wyatt on the spot, but Wyatt said he would not be arrested right then. The way he said it, it made me think he warnt never gonna let Behan arrest him, ever. He did though, in the end, but at the hearing Judge Spicer said that things happened pretty much out of the Earps' control until they had no choice and that they acted as they had to in defense of their lives and there was no possible charge after all.

So the Earps wassent charged or convicted of anything except mebbe bad judgment, and most folks around town agreed with that, 'cept the Cowboys. Some didn’t like it, of course, and Ike Clanton kept trying to stir up trouble for the Earps, but he never got anywhere with it. Most folks knew better. The ones that kep' agitatin wouldn’t have liked anything, from the very beginning, that didn’t end with all the Earps dead. But the Cowboys was still workin on that.

A couple months later, some of the Cowboys ambushed Virgil in the street at the corner of 5th and Allen, shot him from behind and he almost died. Then in the springtime, some of them shot Morgan in the back, through the back door of Campbell and Hatch’s where he was playing at billiards. He died on the billiard table there and afterwards the Doc said he was shot clear through his back bone.

After that, the fight seemed to go out of Wyatt for awhile – he mourned so for his brother. But that mournfulness turned hot purty quick. When they was takin Morgan back to California to his home to bury him, the Earps was nearly ambushed at the train depot in Tucson with all their women right there.

But Wyatt was watchin out and one of them assassins was shot on the station platform. The shooter kep' on shootin until he was sure the assassin was dead. I think it was Frank Stillwell that was shot there. Wyatt said back then he thought Stillwell was one that was responsible for Morgan's murder. He was probly right -- Pete Spence's wife said 'ol Pete and Stillwell planned how they was goin to shoot some of the Earps; planned it right there in her house.

I think Wyatt was goin to let it go up until that – but then he went right out and kilt all them skunks that he thought was in on his brother’s murder – Curly Bill, Indian Charley, John Ringo and some others. It seemed like for ever' outlaw that got killed for the next ten years, everbody said “Wyatt Earp done it.” About the only ones of 'em that didn't get kilt was Pete Spence and Ike Clanton.

Not too much later on Ike got shot and kilt by a cattle man's officer when he got caught herdin cows that warnt his. Spence probly died of old age, I don't know, I never heard for sure. Maybe he's sittin around somewheres, like me, thinkin of old times and wonderin how we got so useless.

I never saw Wyatt Earp again. He left Arizona, I heard up to Colorado with Doc. The only Earp I ever saw after that was Warren. He came to Benson a few years back and worked 'round there as a express guard for a while. Some folks say he din’t have the same good character his brothers had – was kinda a bully they said -- but I don't know about that. He finally got hisself shot in a bar scrape over to Willcox. But I wouldn't mind seeing any of them other Earps again -- they was honest men who warn't afraid of much and who din't bother anybody unless they was pushed and provoked. Men like that is good to have around. But now Wyatt is gone and I s'pose Virgil is gone too, by now.

That’s how that famous gun fight happened, the way I saw and heard it. None of them people are around any more – after the Earps went away things kindy went to hell for a while, until Texas John got elected sheriff and he cleaned things up his own way. Of course Tombstone purt'near died when the mines filled up with water, so now the county is quiet mostly.

I went back to Mr. Hooker’s place before then, once my laig was good again and worked there (and a couple other places later on) until I got too old to throw steers around much anymore. Hell, I caint even much fix a fence anymore, not that I'd want to. It's hell to git old. Things aren’t the same as they was then – I s'pose in most ways that’s a good thing.


Harley Joe and this story are nothing but fiction.

Lovin' Cuba

It’s time to normalize relations with our neighbor, Cuba. I don’t think we’ve been very good neighbors. Of course, Imperial Cuba under Castro in earlier years wasn’t such a good neighbor either. But Cuba is on shaky ground – why not attack them with kindness? We believe a communist system of government is not an effective or even a valid way to run a country – why not show them just how much better our system is? Smother them with it. Let’s trade with them, let’s help Cuban kids get enough to eat, let’s relax the rules on tourism. I have no desire to strangle my neighbors – and if they are happy, well fed and content, perhaps they will be less likely to want to upset the status quo and foment trouble in our backyard. It’s just a thought.

Plainly stated, if we want to foster change in Cuba – positive change that benefits Cubans and Americans -- then let’s quit being so damned afraid of the boogeyman and work with them where we can to foster peace, mutual survival and self-government – even if they DO cling to their extreme socialist beliefs (no negative context of that term intended). Let's do it with genuine friendship, not economic war. 

I really don't like that my nation is involved in the literal starving of the citizens of a neighboring land. It's against my religion. The citizens of Cuba may find that while they want to continue to be a socialist nation, some elements of the non-communist world can be adopted that will help make things better for them. I think Americans have an irrational fear of communism. It isn’t good enough to take over and control the world; why should we be so afraid of it. A huge nation with considerable resources couldn't even make it work. I think there is an opportunity right now for altering the path of the last 50 years in Cuban-American relations – and I think we're bozos if we don’t try it. Let's forgive them their past transgressions -- and see if we can get them to forgive ours.  Let’s love ‘em to death!  Besides, I want to go there before I die; I want to smoke a Cuban cigar on a Cuban beach; yeah, I'm an ugly American!

Two Things...

First, burning the Koran is a BAD idea. If an American citizen commits a crime, and then says “God told me to do it,” assuming the person is a “Christian,” we don’t go out and burn bibles, or blame the religion, because it wasn’t the religion that committed the crime. In a case like that, we ALL recognize that the crime does not represent Christianity.

No, we call the person a criminal and wonder just how insane they are. We prosecute the criminal. Al Qaeda is a group of criminals -- and Al Qaeda does not represent mainstream Islam. Their view of Islam is just as twisted as any wacko American mass-murderer that kills children in the name of "their" supposedly Christian God.

It is essential that we discern this fundamental difference. Burning the Koran is insulting in the extreme to 1.57 billion people* who adhere to Islamic tenets and an inflammatory act directed toward these people who mostly have no animosity toward us (not in any extreme fashion, anyway). There is nothing smart in doing that. I'm no rosy-lensed optimist -- I do recognize that there are resentments and mistrusts. And to date, we've done very little to lessen those resentments and mistrusts.

Second, planning to place an Islamic cultural center at the site of the World Trade Center would be inflammatory and stupid, when you consider the extreme sensitivity of the American people concerning the events of September 11, 2001. Do they have the right to place their mosque anywhere they choose? Sure. Should they place it anywhere near the WTC site? Not in a million years.

But... I checked on my map, and the proposed site of the Islamic Center is almost 1/2 mile from the nearest part of the WTC site -- in one of the most densely packed city centers in the United States. Just how far away would it have to be before it would be OK?

That said, if they truly want to build bridges of understanding and friendship, they will change their minds about this. If they continue with plans to put that center near the site of what may ultimately be the worst terrorist attack in the history of this country, I think you could almost guarantee there will be attacks on it. It will be a festering wound for some of the unwashed ignorant that will not go away. I’m not saying that’s right – I’m just saying that given the mental capacity and uneducated thought processes that are common in this nation, attacks on this place would be inevitable. Americans have their self-righteous "blood" up and not all of us are stable or even have functioning grey matter.

Update: The Imam says he hardly thinks the site of his Islamic Cultural Center would be anywhere close to being "hallowed" ground -- given the nature of other businesses in the area including a couple of dens of iniquity (my description, not his). Coupled with the physical separation I've already noted, which might as well be 100 miles when you are talking about the urban environment in question, I'd have to say I agree with him. I think perhaps the protests are ridiculous.

*Wikipedia, on 9/10/10, reports 1.57 billion people who profess Islamic beliefs; as a contrast, there are reportedly 2.2 billion Christians on our planet. These numbers are about 23% and 25% of the world's population, respectively. Uh... the Islamists are no more a fringe group than the Christians are. I'm just saying.

I Like Chick Flicks

Bob the Movie Guy

I like chick flicks… Maybe that makes me not such a manly man. I don’t know. Couple that with the fact that I do not care at all, not one bit, for tractor pulls and WWF wrestling and I think maybe that says something. I do like John Wayne and Clint Eastwood though so maybe I am not totally lacking in testosterone. And I yell at other drivers in traffic when they are acting stupid. I guess it kind of balances out.

I watched the film “27 Dresses” the other day and found it totally likeable. Every time I see beautiful, wondrous Katherine Heigl I think that every man who meets her has to be totally smitten – smart, funny, a knack for great physical comedy, and gorgeous in a funny-face sort-of-way. That’s what she is. And she’s not even my favorite! What about Kristen Bell? Or Jennifer Aniston? Or Emma Thompson, Kelly McDonald and SELMA BLAIR! Wow! Guys aren’t supposed to like those movies, but how could we not, really? I think maybe guys just don’t want to admit they like those chick movies. What’s so bad about looking at beautiful women for ninety minutes? Oh, there are some that aren’t worth the effort it would take to blow the master copies to hell – Prince of Tides comes to mind (what drivel) – or anything soap opera-ish that isn’t poking fun at itself (like that stupid Magnolia or Eyes Wide Shut – what was that all about?). But a well-done romantic comedy just makes me realize what I am missing in my own sorry-ass life! Of course, there are advantages to having my life…

I was thinking about my favorite movies, and I could never select just one. Or even ten. There are so many. One thing I hate about Hollywood these days is they seem to have run out of ideas – all these sequels and remakes – what a waste of time (for the most part). If they can’t take an old idea and make it fresh and NEW, then don’t bother. But I have seen formulaic films, the same story that has been told a thousand times before, made with a twist or a wrinkle that turns the story on its head. Those I can like. I cannot wait to see the Coen Brothers take on True Grit. So I guess I like SOME remakes...

Jeff Bridges' grittier Rooster

Anyway… my top twenty film favorites, as it stands today; I’ll try to pick just twenty, mostly sticking to those I have collected; just twenty. (OK, so I finally picked 37. So I have an honorable mentions category following the twenty!) Sorry, some are chick flicks. Others are not great art, but that is not always my criterion for a favorite movie. My favorites will always be about love, about adventure, or maybe the triumph of good over evil! They’ll be fun to watch or keep you on the edge of your seat. So without further ado, my top twenty….

#20

Phenomenon: Among my favorite John Travolta roles (along with Michael). I like John much better as a lover of humanity and life than I ever did as an “action” star – but he is an actor who almost always convinces in his roles. I think he’s underrated. And he was great in “Get Shorty” too!

#19

The Englishman Who Went Up a Hill and Came Down a Mountain: The story has been said to be true – and others say it isn’t. If it isn’t, it ought to be. I suppose the truth is in the middle? I like this for the performances of Colm Meaney and Tara Fitzgerald and the warmth of the villagers for each other was heartwarming. Their sly conniving to keep the British in town made the movie. I wish I knew someone named Morgan the Goat!  About as close as I can come would be my friend Molina the Dog!

#18

Waking Ned Devine: Comedic films from the lands of the United Kingdom are among my favorites and this one is near the top of the list. The humor in “Waking Ned Devine” is at once subtle and uproarious. The denouement with Lizzie and the phone booth was both evil and immensely satisfying; this is a film of contrasts!  I cannot help but laugh when I think of Michael buzzing along starkers on that ridiculous motorbike!

#17

Patton: Possibly the best character study I have ever seen on film and historically accurate enough to satisfy even my critical tastes. I cannot see a photo of George C. Scott without thinking of this film. What a great job the filmmakers did in re-creating both the grandeur and the misery of the stage that Patton strode across for those film-compressed three long years. I doubt that it was a simple task to succinctly capture the thoughts and actions of the greatest American military leader of all time but they succeeded. The one "error" is that Scott's voice is nothing like that of the character he played.  General Patton reportedly had a wheezy high-pitched voice, I guess maybe something like Andy Devine?  So George C. Scott has to be an improvement in that regard.

#16

Hunt for Red October: How could anyone hate Russians after seeing the story of Red October? We can hate the evilness of governments, we can hate the imperialist aspirations of individual men and the abuse of civil rights – but people are just people in the end. I doubt we’ll ever learn that completely. Some folks get it – but many more never will. What I like about the film – I love the sea and ships – I love the actors in the film whose parts show the good side of men – how they tried to give the positive possibilities the chance to prove themselves – the Admiral, the Defense Secretary, the American sub captain on the USS Dallas and of course the Harrison Ford character. One of my favorite scenes is right at the end of the film as the Red October sails slowly up the Penobscot River in the dark.  This is very romantic and reminiscent of any journey conducted in the dim light of night -- very much like the atmosphere surrounding Tom and Huck as they drift on the Mississippi; the darkness surrounds the conversation, makes it more intimate and focused.

#15

The Electric Horseman: I love cowboys. I love the west and western people. Americans love stories about doing what’s right and going against the grain to do that. We want to see the frauds and the hypocrisy of big business and hucksterism take the Big Fall. We want to see the “sell outs” get it right. This film touches all those soft spots, and we get to hear Willy’s wonderful, sentimental songs and see the majesty of the western landscape all at the same time. Perfection. Seeing a near-perfect horse strolling across a stage full of half-naked show-girls is pretty good too.

#14

Doc Hollywood: I want to live in a town where this David Ogden Stiers is the mayor. I want to be in the Grady Squash Festival and see fireworks over the town lake… I want to walk my pet pig all over town and I want Bridget Fonda to plant a big one right on me. This film made me want to find a small town like Grady and live there. It’s everything about the idea of the small town we love – and even made the negatives look pretty good (everybody being in your business). Too bad life really doesn't imitate art... I doubt there's a real town anywhere that is like Grady.  The film has a pretty good demonstration of effective fishing technique too -- although it is an old joke, that alone was worth the price of admission.

#13

A League of Their Own: One of the best sports films ever – I never tire of seeing Tom Hanks’ masterful and hilarious portrayal of roguish coach Jimmy Dugan as he slowly comes to terms with being forced to coach (sneer!) women. And who says Madonna can’t act? The friendship portrayed by her character and that of Rosie O’Donnell (whom I do not care for at all but who was a perfect fit in this role) is a triumph of talent and directorial art (Bravo, Penny Marshall!). Seeing this film makes me wish we still had women’s baseball… maybe it would be a more authentic game than what major league ball has become.

#12

Gettysburg: This was a great film, I think because it showed the humanity of the combatants so well. You could not help but wish both “sides” could have won. The music is magnificent, heart-swelling, noble and beautiful. The battle scenes are horribly authentic. If the human species ever gives up war it will be because we finally realize how horrible and devastating it truly is. This film portrays that – but also the love and friendship of the men on both sides. The peaceful glow of the evening camps, contrasting with the stark horror of the daytime battles, this film is a masterpiece of its genre. One small criticism; I can’t quite see Martin Sheen, great actor though he is, as Robert E. Lee. It’s the voice. Lee could not have sounded quite so effeminate.

#11

Fried Green Tomatoes: What a great story of friendship and community this one was, from every angle. It sucked me in from the beginning and held me until the very end and left me wanting to hear more of the story. I will never look at barbecue quite the same way again – at least not without a chuckle. Life changes though; people and even places come and go, even though we wish they wouldn’t. In a perfect world, we’d still be able to visit with Ruth and Idgie at the Whistle Stop café; we’d still be able to visit the family farm and see the old folks and our home town the way they “always” were. In this film, for just a few moments, we can.

#10

A River Runs Through It: Norman Maclean’s story of his boyhood and life in and around Missoula, Montana and the death of his brother would move the heart of any stone-man. It is fly-fishing the great rivers of the west as a metaphor for life – or getting through life. This one is more drama than comedy – but the script shows the nature of a good American family, their ideas of morality and right and wrong, in a time now passed. In the time of the story, the decisions of “good” people were not made as pragmatically as they might be today, things seemed more black and white to them. In addition to showing the struggles (and joys) of the Maclean men, the film is a poignant look back at the stock from which many of us came.

#09

The Unforgiven: Clint Eastwood doesn’t get the respect he deserves. He probably has more movies on my favorites list than any other director or actor. I love Pale Rider, Pink Cadillac, the “every which way” films, and others I’m forgetting right now – like Gran Torino and Heartbreak Ridge. Unforgiven is near the top – its gritty portrayal of violence for what it really was (and is) is sobering and thought-provoking. No glamour here. Through Eastwood’s lens we see the everyday humor of life, plus a thorough debunking and transformation of time-worn romantic “old-west” myths. We see the everyday mundane (like the sadly-lacking skills of the great gunman-marshal "Little Bill" as he "roofs" his house) superimposed on the great “glory” of those old west themes and gunfighters. This was one of Gene Hackman’s best roles, in my opinion. In the end, violence, whether perceived to be necessary or not, is just meanness, and life is just "ordinary."

#08

Second Hand Lions: Did I say I love Robert Duvall? I will go see anything he’s in. I feel this way about very few – even Morgan Freeman -- I haven’t seen all of Freeman's (although I might some day) – but Duvall, he’s my actor-hero. Michael Caine is not too shabby either. This is a manly man’s film – a swashbuckler sans pirate ship. How these two knights of the world choose to shuffle off this mortal coil is classic – especially as we get to see some of the fun they have in the red biplane prior to that exit… and they give salesmen their just desserts, so that’s a plus.

#07

Mystery, Alaska: This film is notable for Burt Reynolds’ wonderful job as the town judge, the bonking of an indiscreet hockey player with a frying pan, and “Bailey Pruitt.” You have to love Bailey Pruitt. Colm Meaney does a great job as the Mayor and Mary McCormack has one of the best lines I’ve ever had the good fortune to hear in a film.

#06

Love Actually: Several magically interwoven and related stories about the triumph of love – of them I doubt I could pick an absolute favorite – although the writer and the Portuguese housekeeper story line is probably that one that I liked most. “Thunder-thighs and the Prime Minister” is pretty good too… this film is an exercise in optimism and human warmth.  We do get it right occasionally.

#05

The Simple Life of Noah Dearborn: Sidney Poitier is one of the great actors of our time. The touching triumph of simple and good over the manipulative bastards in this film, of innocence over the world, is the way it ought to be in real life, but seldom is. That’s what Hollywood is all about though, isn’t it? At its best, it’s life as we want it to be. This film was my introduction to the wonders of Mary Louise Parker (or maybe it was Fried Green Tomatoes, I’m not sure); if she will just come to the house I would make her an apple pie and spoon feed it to her, just one American to another. Brenda Blethyn is also wonderful here, and Mr. Poitier is marvelous in the lead role.

#04

Lilies of the Field: I started this black and white film off near the bottom of my list, but it kept creeping toward the top. This warm, funny film completely endears itself to me each time I see it – the way Mother Superior bullies poor Homer (Sidney Poitier) and makes him her slave in spite of his righteous resistance. Slowly, we grow to respect her perseverance as we learn of her hard past, what she came through and what she and the other sisters accomplished. We know almost from the beginning that Homer Smith is a good, even a great man (in a normal, everyday way) – and as the film makes that plainly clear, we can feel good about ourselves for "knowing" that right up front. As the chorus of “Amen” fades away in the end while Homer drives away… well, never a chick flick moved me more!

#03

Lonesome Dove: I’m not sure there has ever been a buddy film that ever captured the wonderful nature of guy-friendship as well as Larry McMurtry did in Lonesome Dove. His story was also a showcase for hard American morality – the propensity of our fathers to do what they thought was right even if it was personally distasteful to them – what was “right” had to be done, no matter the cost. Men were more likely to stick to their word and didn’t need contracts to bind them. There was good in that – and evil as well. It is good that we remember that. The film was true to McMurtry’s novels in this regard – and the story is a masterpiece, both as written and as filmed.

#02

The Milagro Beanfield War: Robert Redford has made more than one of my favorites. This one is near the top. The love and care of a people in danger for each other and for their land is on display. Like we all want it to, but know it doesn’t always in the REAL world, it wins in the end. Throw in the help of ancient men, angels and maybe Kokopelli himself, and some great humor driven by the confrontation between developers, their supporters and the other resisting locals, and you have a film that will always be at the top of my list. We don't call New Mexico the Land of Enchantment for nothing.

Sheriff John T. Chance

#01

Rio Bravo: Howard Hawks’ definitive 1959 western… John Wayne, Dean Martin and Rick Nelson rock and stand off the bad guys against all odds. The interplay between the characters like Carlos and Chance, Stumpy and the jailed Burdette, and the sly humor that twists and turns between Chance and Angie Dickinson’s saloon girl Dallas… I can watch this one again and again. I never get tired of it. Many films like this one will be on this list – films with heart and humor.  But this one is Number One. The old west as film created it is best represented when Chance and Dude go out in the evening once more to patrol the town!

The Honorable Mentions… (not ranked)

Hitch: Will Smith is another of my favorites… and Eva Mendez totally disarms as the cynical sweetheart. This twist on the romantic comedy formula was a delight to watch.

Silverado: Another favorite – from the opening gunfight, to the loyalty of the four buddies for each other, the treachery of the bad guys and the culmination of the action in the final showdown – the storyline makes this a quintessential western – as it was intended to be. I love all the main characters – and especially Linda Hunt as the Evening Star.

The Sure Thing: Probably my favorite of all the Rom Coms ever! Daphne Zuniga is girl-next-door perfection, and while at this age she hadn’t yet learned to act very well, she was fairly convincing as an OCD nerdy-klutz! While predictable, the story is fun to watch. I love the performance of the college professor.

Bull Durham: This one I liked I think because of the charisma of Kevin Costner – and his mentor relationship with the young pitcher and the team. And I love the camaraderie of the team and baseball in general. Highlights for me were the attack on the clown prince and Millie. Kevin’s soliloquy was great too.  As a lover of both beisbol and roadtrips, I wish I could always be with the team on a baseball roadtrip -- riding along in the bus!

Shawshank Redemption: I think Morgan Freeman walking down the Mexican beach at the end, free and in friendship is one of my greatest-ever moments in film. All through the film, you wish and hope for these two friends to conquer in freedom and dignity – and when they do, the moment is sublime.

Starman: Hey, who doesn’t like a good alien film and this one didn’t come to eat us! We probably ought to be careful about inviting them to come here though – some others of them might not be so nice in the real world. Karen Allen had the prettiest freckled face in 80s films!

The Right Stuff: This is a film about America, in all its 60’s space program glory. I saw some of these people -- not the famous ones of course (and avidly watched every Space program launch that I could) -- but my Dad and his working peers at White Sands Missile Range were part of this. Our entire country was caught up in the excitement. And the flavor captured by the film is exactly the way it was (or at least the way it was presented to us). That’s why I like this one – it is large scale – it is magnificent – and it captured the spirit and heroism of those heroic and competent Americans in one of the most exciting decades in American history (despite the tragedies). The only negative is the false portrayal of Gus Grissom – nothing I have ever read about him shows him to be the simpering, bumbling wimp pictured in the film. His characterization in this film was in NO way factual.

Casablanca: The only Bogart film I currently own – and I watch it from time to time just for the glory of it. The filmmaking is dated – but I cannot help watching it again and again just to hear the classic words of the screenplay.  If you want to see just how far SFX has come in 70 years, watch the departing airplane sequences in this film. 

The Final Countdown: A nonsense film that is every schoolboy’s dream – go back in time and change (or try to change) the outcome of a major battle! Fight a civil war fight with M-16s… show up in King Arthur’s court with some hand-grenades or something… I’ve always been a sucker for the time travel flicks – like Timerider, or reincarnation films like Dead Again. Anyway, who could possibly resist Katherine Ross and Kirk Douglas. In this film, the USN cooperated with the film-makers and mixed up supersonic F-14s with actual WWII-era aircraft (AT-6's and SNJ's made up to look like Zeros and Vals).  It was a treat to see these marvelous machines flying together in the same airspace.

Paper Moon: My favorite Bogdanovich film – you pull for Addie from beginning to end.

Roxanne: I never felt like there could be any real love match between the two main characters – it just doesn’t work – but the humor of the film is second to none. Michael J. Pollard is fantastic – and the physical comedy never fails to make me laugh. That's not to say that Steve Martin and Daryl Hannah aren't good in their roles -- they are -- I just didn't think the romance was plausible.  Oh wait, now that I think about it that was kind of the whole point, wasn't it? 

Where the Heart Is: A sweet film that is stolen by Sister Husband (Stockard Channing). Pretty hard to do when your scene-stealing competition is Ashley Judd and Joan Cusack…

Nobody’s Fool: Paul Newman carries this film with help from Bruce Willis, Melanie Griffith and Jessica Tandy. All are believable in their roles, but Newman shines. You almost wish he had run away with Melanie at the end – or at least got the snow-blower for keeps.  This is the Newman film I love the most -- although I also own Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. I just don't like the ending of that one...  In thinking about this, I wonder if "Cool Hand Luke" should be on this list...

The Princess Bride: The whole story is great, but the highlight for me is the transparent love of the Grandfather for his grandson shown at the end. Billy Crystal and Carol Kane are a hoot -- I've never had an MLT and I probably won't.  I'm just not much for mutton, no matter how highly it is recommended.

The Original True Grit: Back when this one came out, I probably saw it 20 times.  To this day, I can recite the script along with the actors as they were filmed.  The cinematography was magnificent, the characterizations perfect, the humor uproarious. I like the Coen Brothers remake as well, and it may be truer to the author's intent and the tone of the original story, but John Wayne's film will always be one I go back and watch again and again. (Although I now own both films).

Swashbuckler: The best pirate movie of my generation – and is there anyone as physically magnificent as was James Earl Jones in his youth, or Geoffrey Holder, for that matter. Robert Shaw looks like he could have BEEN a pirate – and most people would never have dreamed that Peter Boyle could perform a role like this – if all they had ever seen of him was his “Raymond” role. This one is just pure, unadulterated fun!

Most of my favorites are not among the greatest films of their time – but they tell uplifting stories, warm the heart – or entertain. And that’s what I want to see on film – entertainment.  It has occurred to me that many of these are not chick flicks at all... I think I will go watch a movie!

Updated October 11, 2014