HAPPY THANKSGIVING
It is 6:09 a.m. and dark out and a balmy 37.3 degrees F. Patrick is still in bed.
Wal*Mart sells DVDs of crappy old films for a dollar. I've got a lot of these. Because I like crappy old films, most of them anyway.
Old westerns never dissapoint me. So anyway the other day I got this double feature--The Painted Desert with William Boyd (Hoppy) and a Tex Ritter film. They were both great! Patrick and I watched them yesterday, and they're only a little longer than an hour, so it's less of a time committment.
Hoppy was my favorite cowboy growing up, so I always enjoy William Boyd--but the interesting thing about this film is that the bad guy was played by non other than Clark Gable--In his first role in a talkie, no less.
Gable had a long and storied career, but is probably best known for his portrayal of Rhett Butler in Gone with the Wind. His final scene, in which he utters the immortal line "Frankly, My Dear, I don't give a damn" is arguably (don't know what it means, but sounds good) the most recognized clip from any film anywhere. So what?, you say? Well, guess what? His character in this first movie was named--yep--"Rhett". There are no coincidences!
There are a few events in my life that have been endelibly imprinted on my memory. I can remember exactly where I was and what I was doing 43 years ago when I found out that President Kennedy had been shot. And when Neil Armstrong supposededly, or should I say arguably, stepped out of his spaceship onto the surface of the Moon. And when I first saw Junior. And when I stepped out on the tarmac at Tampa International returning from Ft. Lewis and a year's tour of the Orient. And when the Towers came down. Those are the ones that come to mind at the moment.
The big city north of us has just passed a new non-smoking ordinance. Part of it proscribes smoking in Bowling Alleys except from 9:00p.m. to 3 a.m. Sunday thru Thursday nights (League Play). I didn't read the fine print, but I think when they are smoking, the bowlers have to be wearing orange sweat-pants and whistle "Dixie" thru red and white striped straws stuck up their noses. Who are the dildoes who pass this stuff? Democracy gone wild, but no nudity. Enuff to make you a Libertarian...
Wal*Mart sells DVDs of crappy old films for a dollar. I've got a lot of these. Because I like crappy old films, most of them anyway.
Old westerns never dissapoint me. So anyway the other day I got this double feature--The Painted Desert with William Boyd (Hoppy) and a Tex Ritter film. They were both great! Patrick and I watched them yesterday, and they're only a little longer than an hour, so it's less of a time committment.
Hoppy was my favorite cowboy growing up, so I always enjoy William Boyd--but the interesting thing about this film is that the bad guy was played by non other than Clark Gable--In his first role in a talkie, no less.
Gable had a long and storied career, but is probably best known for his portrayal of Rhett Butler in Gone with the Wind. His final scene, in which he utters the immortal line "Frankly, My Dear, I don't give a damn" is arguably (don't know what it means, but sounds good) the most recognized clip from any film anywhere. So what?, you say? Well, guess what? His character in this first movie was named--yep--"Rhett". There are no coincidences!
There are a few events in my life that have been endelibly imprinted on my memory. I can remember exactly where I was and what I was doing 43 years ago when I found out that President Kennedy had been shot. And when Neil Armstrong supposededly, or should I say arguably, stepped out of his spaceship onto the surface of the Moon. And when I first saw Junior. And when I stepped out on the tarmac at Tampa International returning from Ft. Lewis and a year's tour of the Orient. And when the Towers came down. Those are the ones that come to mind at the moment.
The big city north of us has just passed a new non-smoking ordinance. Part of it proscribes smoking in Bowling Alleys except from 9:00p.m. to 3 a.m. Sunday thru Thursday nights (League Play). I didn't read the fine print, but I think when they are smoking, the bowlers have to be wearing orange sweat-pants and whistle "Dixie" thru red and white striped straws stuck up their noses. Who are the dildoes who pass this stuff? Democracy gone wild, but no nudity. Enuff to make you a Libertarian...
-TR-
posted by Trader Rick @ 6:15 AM
1 comments
1 Comments:
You would salivate if you saw my Hoppy collection -- plus about 150 other old westerns. Now, if I could only find the time to watch them.
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