desperadoes
one of the things that being dumped in this country when I was twelve brought me was after-school television: Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, Wild Bill Hickok, Hopalong Cassidy. amazing stuff. the good guys had sixguns that never ran out of bullets. they could shoot and shoot and shoot all day and never need to reload. bad guys had sixguns that ran out, but sometimes not until after twenty shots or so. good guys could ride, run, or walk, dodging between bullets. bad guys caught in a crossfire got shot. some deadly wounds aren't, mostly if the good guy gets one. a hug and a kiss are potent medicine. if you force a girl to kiss you, she will love you forever. real good guys don't fall in love. I cain't help it. I noticed these things. I thought the good guys were stupid and the bad guys were stupider. how come they played by those rules? didn't they have anything to say about the rules? but that was in St. Louis. Perryton and Clovis didn't have television. can you imagine? but we moved to Albuquerque and it had after school television, and it was just as stupid. and then I discovered Westerns! I mean books you could read, books that lasted longer than half an hour, longer than an hour even, some of them longer than two hours. if you picked the right ones, sixguns shot six bullets. period. the bad guys were a lot more real. the good guys had to do a lot more than just be so everlasting good. they had to outthink the bad guys, sometimes without much to go on. but in the end, they always did, so it was just a better kind of foolishness. then Sergio Leone came along and saved the Western for me. and Clint Eastwood proved to be such an adept student. and Linda Ronstadt sang that achingly beautiful song. (okay, she covered an Eagles song, but I didn't know that.) "yes!" I thought while she sang it, but around five minutes later I would recognize she only almost had it. what was a desperado? a mighty strong man. prison couldn't break him the desert couldn't stop him. the law couldn't stop him. somehow he made it through whatever the world threw in his way, and he imposed his will on the world. not like the mighty corporationist in Ayn Rand, but like Tom Joad meant to be in _Grapes of Wrath_. a man determined to get justice despite what's stacked against him. (okay, ladies, there are probably women desperadoes too, and they have to be much cleverer, since they have to get their way walking backwards in high heels. I acknowledge that, but it was the guys who fueled my dreams.) I especially liked the ones who got away with it when they finished the task. Shane. Clint Eastwood's Man With No Name. the gunfighter in "Unforgiven". I probably have never examined my fascination with them very much mainly because I can't imagine my taking on a suicide task with enough conviction to stay alive til I accomplished it. but I like the idea. especially if he gets to ride away in the end, with the girl.
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