Yesterday, my man invited me to a Western Fest
of Wanted Dead or Alive. I've always enjoyed his
Westerns although they might not be my usual
first choice of genre. I can't help but wonder, what
it is about Westerns that tug at us? Is it a secret
longing for the past? Do they fascinate us when
we see the changes, the differences, between
then and now? Perhaps, we are drawn to the
fashions of yesteryear. Or maybe, it's the quickly
settled justice that seems to prevail 'mongst the
villains of yore. The marshal as hero or even the
clear differences between the good buys and the
bad guys that make for good storytelling. For me,
I appreciate the reminder . . . good ultimately
triumphs over evil; the good guys always win.
Looking at the fact that I've chosen to upend my
entire life, move into a 120 year old cabin, decorate
it solely with familial antiques and forego most
conveniences, I have to wonder if I'm not somehow
trying to re-birth myself into a past long forgotten?!
Me things you best doff the hat when next greeting
me and please don't mind my side holster . . .
tis rebirthing me
in order to find myself
process most painful
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