Silverado

When I take it into my head to slow down a moment or three, and reflect on life, I will, more often than not it seems, have some of the most singularly strangest ideas come into the forefront of my mind. But after the intial burst of ADD/ADHD obliges me with some mental chaos, I will find myself becoming ever more introspective, and existential, musing upon things, events that have happened, and events yet to come. And I find myself defaulting into the mode of playing a sweeping and indepth game of "connect the dots" wherein I connect memorable and impactful points in my life (as best as I can recall them of course) and flexing my logic and linear reasoning skills to conjur up a picture and definate exposition on the past, present, and the possible (or impossible) futures in relation to myself, the world as it stands, and the connections between myself and others.

I always have the funniest and/or strangest revelations when I stop long enough to really reflect in honesty.

For example; given my last two posts, I came to a realization that the one movie I can really say set me on the path I am now on, and the one I can say has impacted myself as a story teller, is a movie that came out July 10th, 1985, over 3 months before I was born, and I first saw about the middle of Febuary in 1991. Which, for you who know the right details, is both strage, creepy, and ponderously wonderful, and confirms the irony ans mystery of hindsight.

Silverado is a pretty straightforward classical style western story, made in what many film buffs call the "twilight of the Traditional American Western" meaning the dialogue, music, cinematography, and even the action are all pretty standard, and even downright tame compared to some. Sure there's blood, violence and colorful speech, but nothing terrible, it would barely earn its 80s PG-13 rating today.

And yes, before you gasp or pitch a fit, I was 6 when I first saw this PG-13 rated film, with both of my parents sitting next to me I should add. But it was, as was once the American way, the first morality play I ever saw, that wasn't a rank n file, copy n paste Bible story.

From that day on, I've always wanted to be a cowboy...

I begged and pleaded for, and got, a cap gun, I already had a cowboy hat and boots, and I would dash about the yard on my "horse" (either a broom or my bycycle) "shootin" the badguys, I practiced my quick draw, and I would hum, chant and whistle the theme music all the time to myself as my own soundtrack, between reciting my favorite lines and quotes from the movie.

I wanted to be that faithful friend, brother, son, wanderer... I wanted to go and see the world, make mistakes and then make up for them, righting a wrong only I could right. I wanted to prove to everyone that while I was a crazy cocky young guy who trouble always could find, I was still man enough to handle things, and to do what was needed. I wanted to find a girl, and fall in love, far from home, from what was expected. And I wanted to win her heart, because I wasn't like the other guys...

Looking back on my life, I'm more than a little surprised to see that I've somehow mannaged to do all of that, I've mannaged to walk all the paths of all 4 of the heros in that film...

Over the last 7 years, I have done all of that, and now so much more, and I can't quite wipe the smile off of my face when I recall playing in the floor while watching that movie.

A masterpice of American Film it is not, but it is now the sum total fanciful story of my life to date, and I can't complain.

Its not what a cowboy does.

We just do what we feel and know to be right.