MY TWENTY YEAR PROJECT

 Earlier this year I finished a project I began 20 years ago. I was a huge western fan when I was a kid. I watched reruns of Gunsmoke and Rawhide most back then, but I also loved Have Gun Will Travel and Wanted: Dead or Alive. I didn't get into Maverick until the Mel Gibson movie came out, but I fell in love with that series, too.

I noticed one thing about all these shows, though: the characters killed an excessive number of people, and they also got shot a lot. Some of these guys should be more scar tissue than person, in fact. So I decided to keep a tally of this while I watched every single episode of these five shows on the 50th anniversary of each one airing.

Here are those results.

I learned that the more cast members you have, the more these numbers get spread out among them. On Rawhide they weren't quite the prolific killers that shows with a more limited cast would be. Plus there was some turnover for this show, as there were so many cast members. Here are the tallies starting with the minor characters and moving my way up.

Jed never got shot, but he killed five people. Ian similarly never got shot, but he killed two. Simon didn't get shot, either, and he only killed one person. Forester, Haysoos and Teddy never got shot, and they never killed anyone. Joe Scarlet never got shot, but he killed two people. Mushy (!) got shot once and killed two people. It's hard to picture him killing anyone, but he did it twice.

Quince has been shot four times, and he killed seven. Only seven, considering he was the biggest troublemaker in the lot. Pete Nolan got shot three times and killed fifteen people. Wishbone got shot once (and was dragged by a horse once), but he only killed five people. Not bad for a cantankerous old coot.

And now for the two leads. Rowdy Yates was shot 10 times (once with an arrow), and he killed thirty-nine people over the years. That's a low kill count for Clint, who once killed more Nazis than anyone else in the movie, Where Eagles Dare. I'm certain the scene in Preacher where the Saint of Killers shoots a bunch of Herr Starr's men was based on Clint's deeds in that one.

And Gil Favor was shot seven times, once with an arrow, and he was whipped once. He killed a whopping fifty people. If Rawhide happened in modern times, he'd be considered a serial killer.

Maverick has had the longest life of any of the westerns not named Gunsmoke. Not only was there the original show, but there were also three (!) other Maverick shows (The New Maverick, Young Maverick and Bret Maverick) and the Maverick movie I previously mentioned. Even that movie is canon, as James Garner still plays that same Bret Maverick, and Gibson is Bret Jr. So these tallies count all of that.

Bret Jr. didn't get shot once, but he killed a couple of people. Not bad for Gibson. Usually he plays kill-crazy bastards.

Brent Maverick got shot once and killed one person.

Ben Maverick didn't shoot anyone and never got shot. Pappy would be proud.

Beau Maverick (Roger Moore!) never got shot, but he did kill ten people.

Brother Bart got shot five times, and he killed fifty-two people! But he was the darker, more violent of the brothers.

Bret Maverick only got shot three times, but he was stabbed twice, and he killed a mere twenty-two people.

Josh Randall got shot twelve times, which is kind of amazing, but he killed seventy-seven people. Even a bounty hunter today would be hard pressed to explain that to the courts.

Paladin got around quite a bit. When he wasn't enjoying the San Francisco opera or a good book in the lobby of the Carlton, he got shot sixteen times (once with an arrow). Despite doing his level best to never kill someone unless he absolutely had to, he killed 198 motherfuckers. Holy fucking shit. That's . . . that's insane even by a western's standards. Unless the standard is set by . . .

Wanted: Dead or Alive did have a movie made out of it in the 'Eighties, but it doesn't really count. It was modernized with Rutger Hauer and Gene Simmons. So yeah, no. Gunsmoke, however, started in 1955 and ended in 1975. There were five made-for-TV movies made after, thus making it *the* western TV show of all time. This is another ensemble cast with some turnover, so let's start with the minor characters.

Newly O'Brien got shot five times. He also killed five people. Thad got shot six times and didn't kill anyone (poor Thad). Quint (Burt Reynolds!) got shot twice, stabbed once and whipped once, but he killed six people.

Then there were the assistants. Chester Goode was shot ten times, dragged by a horse once, stabbed once, and he killed eighteen people. Hard to believe Chester was capable of that. Festus Hagen, on the other hand, doesn't surprise anyone with his abilities. He got shot fifteen goddam times, bitten by a dog once, and he killed thirty five* people. WOW.

Miss Kitty got shot twice, and she killed five people. Doc got shot twice (over 20 years, that ain't bad), stabbed twice, and killed seven* people.

And then there's Matt Dillon, US Marshal. He got shot with an arrow once and stabbed twice, but he got shot an awe-inspiring sixty-two fucking times. And not counting the opening credits, he's killed 438* motherfuckers.

That's an astounding number by ANYONE's estimation. The hero that so many people back then looked up to had killed literally hundreds of people. HUNDREDS.

Not even I expected him to be that prolific a killer. Also, could you imagine being shot 62 times? He was a big dude (six-seven), but how the fuck was there anything left of him after that? He should look like Deadpool after all that shit.

*These three numbers are estimates because of one episode in the final season. That deserves some discussion because, for the first 19 years of the show, Matt Dillon loved nothing more than the law and upholding it, and he only killed people if he had no other choice. Festus had more or less the same view, although he was a little quicker to kill than Matthew. Doc loathed killing of any kind EXCEPT for this one episode.

What happened was, these three characters found themselves in a town of criminals, and instead of escaping and siccing the US government on them (as the Matt Dillon of the first 19 years would have done), they decide instead to blow this town up and kill every single man living there. This is an act of wanton violence none of these characters would have ordinarily wanted. The asterisk is because so many people died I couldn't count them all. So 438 is the lowest possible estimation. I only counted the ones I saw die. At least a hundred people lived there, but I can't say for sure.

The real reason I was doing this was so I could compare to the kills of horror movie slashers. I'll bet if you combined Freddy, Jason, Myers, Chucky, Leprechaun, Pinhead and the Cenobites (a great name for a rock band, to quote Dave Barry), and hell, let's throw Pumpkinhead in there, too, you still wouldn't have as many deaths as those caused by Matt Dillon. Which is funny to me. The parents back in the 'Eighties horrified by these monsters killing people while Matt Dillon, the hero of *their* childhood, killed more than all of them combined.

For some reason Matt Dillon stopped caring about the law during that last season and the five movies after. I suspected it was because Clint Eastwood was the western hero of the time, and he was an anti-hero, so maybe the writers wanted one of their own instead of the John Wayne inspired Dillon. And that might even be the real reason his character did a complete one-eighty during that time. But I have another theory, and if there are any Gunsmoke fans reading this, I'd like to hear your thoughts.

What's the one thing that's different about that final season of Gunsmoke? That's right, Miss Kitty left. There was no longer a feminine touch on the show. That last season was a sausage fest. But think about it a bit more. I think Matt Dillon's love for Miss Kitty was the real thing that kept him in check, and when she left, he lost any desire to uphold the law. He felt the world had punished him, so he decided to punish the world back. That last season of Gunsmoke shows us a good man who was broken by the absence of love, and that's why he really blew up that town of criminals with Festus and Doc's help. The next thing you know, he's no longer the marshal, and he's living out in the wilderness, where we find him in Return to Dodge.

Gunsmoke wasn't known for character development, at least not in the main characters, more like in the guest stars. But if I'm right, that's one hell of a swing to take.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #750: WESTERN THEMES

 You all know I love westerns. Many of you know I also like punk music. It should surprise none of you that the Dead Kennedys version of "Rawhide" is in regular rotation in my life. I was listening to it the other day in my car when I thought, why don't we have more awesome covers of western TV theme songs?

Gunsmoke can't be done. There aren't any words to the theme. But I think a prime candidate would be Have Gun, Will Travel. I feel like there should be a metal version of this one. Maybe Megadeth could do it? I know Mustaine is a fan. They already a song called "Have Cool, Will Travel." I could see them doing a version of that song.

Maverick would be a lot trickier. Punk and metal wouldn't be able to do it justice. It's a bit more lighthearted than the others, so maybe hard rock? Here's an unconventional idea for this one. I think Sammy Hagar could do it. It's got to be someone who likes to party but doesn't like to get dark. Something a bit laid back. He fits the bill, I think.

Anyway, your thoughts? (And before you start thinking about classic SF shows from that time period, look no further than Monster Magnet. They get to do all of them.)

PS: If you're interested in the Dead Kennedys version of "Rawhide," here's a nice behind the scenes look at recording it.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #125: THE FENIAN BROTHERHOOD

Watching the Fenian episode of MAVERICK earlier this week reminded me that one of my ancestors was a Fenian. Nicholas D. Shannon, born in Ireland, moved to America, where he became a Chicago police officer. In his obituary, it says, "He was always an intense Irish Nationalist, belonged to the MacManus Circle, and the company of the Fenian Brotherhood, and went with the Fenian regiment to Canada at the time of O'Neill's invasion in 1866." Their mission was to take Canada by force and exchange it for Irish independence. They tried this three times.


So yeah. That episode wasn't fucking around. The Irish really did try to invade Canada. Weird, huh?


As a side note, his son was also a Chicago cop, and he wound up getting injured severely at the Haymarket Riot. The police report says that he received a "bullet wound in the back, [and] seventeen shell wounds in the lower part of both legs." It caused him pain for the rest of his life, which would turn out to be 12 years.


History is full of surprises like this. You never know what lurks in your family tree. Before this turns into a commercial for ancestry.com, I think I'm going to call it a night. Goodnight, fuckers.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #99: THINGS I DID TODAY INSTEAD OF WORKING

OK, so I had to go to a retina specialist today to make sure I wasn't going blind. My eye doctor said that he saw something that might be diabetic retinopathy, which eventually leads to blindness, so you can imagine the fear involved in going to the specialist. Luckily, the guy told me he saw nothing to indicate diabetic retinopathy, so it all worked out. However, it took me three hours to get that answer. Plus, they put a lot of drops in my eyes because I wasn't dilating properly. This took such a chunk out of my day that I might as well have not been off from work, since I didn't have a lot of free time to do things I wanted to do, namely write my ass off. It's hard to write with dilated eyes. I'd say it's near impossible. By the time clock I had in my head, the drops should have worn off by eight, and I could get to work. It wound up lasting a lot longer.


But never mind that. All of this happened in the afternoon and evening. When I woke up, I felt amazing. I had this whole day to myself, and it's only the first day of the week I have away from work. What did I do instead of working today?


Well . . . I had a couple of drinks, just to show the world that I could enjoy alcohol--strictly prohibited in the office--when I should have been at work. Then I looked at very questionable websites, which led to me jerking off a couple of times. Oh, how glorious it was to fuck around doing unimportant things when all of my coworkers were slaving away!


And then I watched MAVERICK while eating lunch. I washed up. I got some reading in before I had to go to the retina specialist. But goddammit, those first few hours when I woke up today were fabulous. I won't be doing that tomorrow, because I have a lot of shit to do, but just to do it ONE day was incredibly satisfying.


Hey! I'm 99 GF's into this thing. The 100th post will be something special. Maybe it will be tomorrow, if I'm not too busy. You'll definitely want to read the next one, though. It will be about my grandfather, and I know how you guys all love him.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #74: ERIC FLEMING

Those of you who have followed me a long time know that GUNSMOKE and MAVERICK have had a major influence on not just my writing but also my life. There are a few others, namely HAVE GUN-WILL TRAVEL and WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE, but there is yet another . . .


RAWHIDE is one of the best written western TV shows in history. It's not my favorite, but I have to admit that a lot more writing went into these episodes than any other show, at least in the first five seasons. After that, things went downhill, even though there were still great episodes.


That's not what I'm here to talk about, though. I want to discuss the unsung hero of RAWHIDE: Eric Fleming.


Most of you know me from my horror writing, so I'm pretty sure you'll mostly recognize Fleming from his work in a movie called CURSE OF THE UNDEAD. It was one of the very first Weird Western movies EVER. It was shit. I'm sorry, but it was. Yet it was the first outing of one of my favorite sub-genres.


To those of you with longer memories, you'll remember Fleming as the star of RAWHIDE. He played Gil Favor, trail boss. Clint Eastwood was equally billed, but let's face it. He was second fiddle to Fleming, the real star of the show for seven seasons.


Again, that's not what I want to talk about. I want to talk about Fleming, not Favor.


I knew he'd had a shitty life, but I didn't realize how shitty it was until I read the recent history of RAWHIDE by David R. Greenland. But before I get into that, let me give you my impression of Fleming as Favor.


When I was a kid, I hated him. I always sided with other drovers because I thought he was being unfair. He's the boss, and fuck him. But . . . watching the series as an adult, I understand him a lot more. Yes, he was stern, but he had very good reason to be. If he couldn't get these crazy drovers into line, he would never succeed at getting these steers to market. As an adult who wants to succeed at things, I totally get that. Fleming had the right stuff when it came to portraying a firm leader. He had a human side, but he didn't tolerate disobedience. He was fair, but he didn't let shit go. You had to do what he commanded, or you were out. Fair enough.


Fleming was an unlucky son of a bitch. Seriously. You'd think a TV star was in a good position, but he wasn't. Let me explain.


I was an abused child. You know that. I've also surrounded myself with people who were abused children. You probably also know that. However, Fleming was so abused that there's only one person I know who had it worse: Robert Tannahill, my partner on THE COCAINE! BROS. Rob had it rough, worse than anyone I know which is why I give him a lot more latitude than I'd give anyone else. I love him as I've loved no other male human being in my life. We've had our rough patches, but, well, you get it.


I don't know what Rob would be OK with me talking about, so I'll skip it. Instead, I'll talk about what Fleming had to go through. Fleming, who was born as Edward Heddy Jr., was once beaten by his father so bad it kept him in bed for a few days. Young Fleming got stuck with a bone disease when he was a kid, and his father didn't visit him in all the six months he was in the hospital. However, when Fleming came home, his old man had no problem beating the shit out of him, even though he needed crutches to get around. Could you imagine beating the daylights out of a kid who got around on crutches? Me, neither.


Fleming's dad was such a cunt that Fleming tried to shoot him once when he was nine. According to Greenland, the gun jammed. He doesn't explain the momentous beating Fleming must have gotten due to this attempt. I know my stepfather would have at least cut my balls off for something like that. Regardless, Fleming hopped a train to get away from his family and wound up in Chicago, working for gangsters during Prohibition. The poor kid wound up getting shot for his troubles, and the authorities decided to return him to his father. This happened AT THE AGE OF 11.


Luckily for him, the cops saw how afraid he was of his old man and left him with his mother instead.


Six years later, he ran away from his life of poverty to join the Navy. It was during this time that he wound up getting terribly injured in an accident. Two hundred pounds of steel fell on Fleming's face, completely destroying it. I'm surprised he survived such an accident. It took four plastic surgeries to reconstruct his face, including an eye he thought he was going to lose. From all accounts, he was ugly before, but this actually made him look better. Hollywood better.


Did I mention that he had a club foot that he had to wear a brace for? That would probably explain his life of going barefoot, since shoes tended to fuck with him pretty badly.


He gave acting a shot and got reasonably good success at that. However, I think he would have been happier being a writer. Whenever he wasn't in front of the camera, he was reading a book, which understandably put off other actors on RAWHIDE. Clint Eastwood was wrestling with the other actors--literally--and pulling pranks and generally having a good time, but Fleming was too busy reading. He wrote a couple of episodes of the show.


Fleming clashed with the supposedly creative forces of RAWHIDE often, but it wasn't for his own betterment. It was for all actors. At one point, he made some labor deals which benefited everyone on the cast.


He hated working in front of the camera. He wanted to write novels, and he was planning on doing just that. He had a few contracts to work through, and then he could retire to the home he'd built on RAWHIDE money. All he had to do was get through one last movie role, which he'd scored after being fired from the show that had made him a big name.


(Wrongly, by the way. Even Clint Eastwood, who had publicly feuded with Fleming many times, said that the network was making the wrong choice by firing Fleming and promoting Eastwood to the star of the show. It should be noted that Fleming was approached by Sergio Leone, who wanted an American actor for FISTFUL OF DOLLARS, the first great spaghetti western to ever be made. Fleming, along with other American actors, turned Leone down. However, unlike others, Fleming suggested that Leone might want Eastwood for the role. As all of you know, even my non-horror fans reading this now, Eastwood accepted the deal and became an international star because of his involvement with Leone. (For $15,000, no less!) Because of this moment, we have Academy Award-winning director Clint Eastwood. Instead of getting Eric Fleming as the Man With No Name--who really did have a name, by the way--we got Clint Eastwood, who really was the best choice. However, Eastwood wanted to get out of his CBS contract for RAWHIDE in order to make movies, which is why he suggested that CBS should fire him instead of Fleming. It didn't work out that way.)


Which brings us to the final moment in Eric Fleming's life. You'd think that a guy who suffered as badly as he did would get some sort of reward, right?


According to Charles Marquis Warren, the creator of RAWHIDE, Fleming was "a miserable human being." Greenland goes so far as to say that Fleming agreed with this assessment, calling himself "bitter" and "twisted."


Shortly after being fired from RAWHIDE, Fleming got a job for a movie being filmed in South America. He was filming a scene that should have probably been performed by a stunt man when his boat capsized, and he was dragged down by the undertow.


It is irrefutable that Eric Fleming was devoured by piranha. However, no one knows if he drowned first or was eaten alive.


I desperately hope that he drowned first, but from all accounts, he was very athletic. He was an able swimmer.


I personally think the piranha killed him.


I hope for his sake that I'm not right. I can't stand the idea of someone like him, abused from his earliest moments on this planet, dying in such a hard way.


He was forty-one and the first RAWHIDE actor to die.


I feel a great deal of kinship toward him. I hope his passage from this world wasn't as hard as I think it was.


But I know his luck was shit. From what I could tell . . . I can't say it.


If there's an afterlife--and I highly doubt there is--I hope Eric Fleming has found some kind of reward there.

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #65: CHANGING HORSES IN MIDSTREAM

I find myself in an odd situation. I'm watching three old TV shows on DVD, and they've kind of synched up so that they've all reached the point of changing casts near the end of their run. People lose their shit over TV shows that suddenly have drastic cast changes. Not me. I mourn for the past, of course, but I look forward to any new cool shit that might be in store.


Take STARGATE SG1, for example. (And STARGATE ATLANTIS, for that matter.) I always loved the show, but it went over several personnel changes over the years. I'm totally happy with how it turned out, though. Great characters were replaced with great characters. That's the key: you can't get shit shit to replace cool shit.


But with the changes in these three shows? I'm a bit nervous. Let's break it down a bit.


MAVERICK. I've been a huge fan of the show my entire life (for more evidence, see this old entry in the Goodnight, Fuckers series), but I've never seen anything beyond two episodes of the fourth season. Why? No one gave a shit about them. Not even Columbia House wanted to bring them back. Let's face it: James Garner is the best Maverick you can get. Jack Kelly is great, but he just can't match Garner's charisma. I just got season 4 on DVD, and Garner is only in one episode, which was filmed for the third season but got delayed due to contract disputes. He's replaced by Roger Moore, a cousin Maverick from abroad. I like Moore, but I just can't see how he can fill Garner's shoes. Not to mention the fact that there's another Maverick cousin that's going to be introduced soon. Jack Kelly's Bart Maverick is great, but I don't think he can carry the series without Garner's Bret.


21 JUMP STREET. I never thought I'd like this show, but I got the first season for a dollar. I can't express how surprised I was at how good it was. Yet the final season? Johnny Depp left after one episode (which was filmed for the previous season; sound familiar?), and Dustin Nguyen doesn't even make an appearance. Their replacements? Eh, they're less than inspiring. I don't have a great deal of hope for the rest of this final season.


SLIDERS. When this show was first being aired, I kind of made fun of my brothers for liking it. The production value was awful, and it had the fat kid from STAND BY ME as the lead. But . . . they turned me on this one. One of them got me the first two seasons for Christmas, and I couldn't help but be drawn into it. The production value is still awful, but the stories are amazing. The characters are top notch. But . . . we lost one of them last season. We lost another one this season. I've been warned we're going to lose yet another later this season, to be replaced by a brother. This sounds disastrous. When you use a sibling to replace a main character, it's always desperate. But I've made it this far, so you can be sure I'm in it until the end.


It's sad, because you know that such shake-ups are ALWAYS about the actors getting fucked in contract negotiations, but sometimes, it really does lead to great storytelling. Not often, but sometimes. I'll let you know how I feel about these three shows, when all is said and done. (And they really need to release the final season of MAVERICK soon.)

GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #15: RIP JAMES GARNER

Many of you who have known me for a while are aware of this: PREACHER is my favorite comic book of all time, but I got more fun out of HITMAN. What you might not know is this: my favorite Western TV show is GUNSMOKE, but I got more fun out of MAVERICK.


Let me shift for a moment. Not a lot of people know this, but MAVERICK creator Roy Huggins, who also co-created THE ROCKFORD FILES, was fond of saying that James Rockford is a direct descendant of Bret Maverick, and it totally makes sense. Sometimes, I wish Rockford would tell Angel (or any of his other friends/acquaintances) about things his grand(-grand)-pappy might have said.


All of that said, I'm almost certain that everyone who knows me now has no idea how much influence James Garner has had on my life. Maverick and Rockford are huge ingredients in my personality. I don't even know where to begin with this.


Let's start with cowardice. I can't tell you how many people I've casually admitted my cowardice to. Bret Maverick (and Brother Bart) did this on a routine basis. Here's the thing, though: none of the Mavericks were cowards, and neither am I. It's just that we hate violence.


Hold on a minute! You all know, through my fiction, that I depict a lot of horrible, psychotic violent scenes in my fiction. I'm sorry, but that's the way of the world. Personally, I abhor violence, just like the Mavericks. I am a pussy-hair away from being a pacifist. But the problem is this: violence exists, whether I abhor it or not. Like the Mavericks, I will resort to it . . . but only if I have to. Unfortunately for them, it's happened a lot. For me, I haven't struck anyone out of rage for more than twenty years. I still feel guilty about that last incident, because I heard that guy hasn't been the same since. It makes me sick to my stomach. But I had to do it, or someone I loved would be hurt even worse.


I'm also kind of mercenary when it comes to money. Maybe I learned that one from my father, because he's much the same way. Regardless, I have done quite a few things that went against my nature for monetary gain, just like the Mavericks and Rockford.


Like Maverick, I have siblings. Bret only had Bart (and there were cousins, but never mind that). In all actuality, my brothers and I have more in common with the Earps. Most of us look the same. Take a look at the Earps and try to point out Wyatt. Try to point out Virgil. Try to point out Morgan. Try to separate me from Dan or Alex or even Bob. (Frankie and Rachael look different from us, mostly because they had different parents. I love them both, but I've only seen them in person a few times, and on each time, they gave me the impression that they could handle anything that came their way. My father and Ann--my stepmother--really did a good job of raising them. My own mother and Bill--my stepfather--were fucked in the head. I loved Mom, but she was never ready to raise kids.) Here's the thing: if any of my brothers got into a fix, I'd let them figure it out for themselves. How many times did Bret abandon Bart to figure his own shit out? Even if Bret caused the aforementioned shit? At the same time, if it was really ugly, something beyond the respective siblings' abilities, Bret would step in and help. Just like me with my brothers. Whenever something happened with them, I'd feel an initial rage, but I knew that they could handle it themselves. If there was something (and there never was) that they couldn't handle, I'd handle it for them.


Rockford shared a lot of these qualities with his ancestors. I'm sure you don't need further explanation from me. You get the picture.


A lot of my friends say that they don't like westerns. It's all the same shit, and for the most part, they're right. For the wrong reasons, because they're blinded by the stereotypes, but still. For them, I recommend MAVERICK. The Mavericks were so unconventional for their time it was ridiculous. It was a western show where the leads were self-professed cowards who used their minds to thwart their enemies instead of quick-draws. They didn't even drink booze. Ask a common person what they think of when they think of westerns, and in the top five is whiskey.


I don't have any enemies today, but the ones I used to have? I never threatened violence. I always outsmarted them. That's the greatest lesson anyone can learn from the Mavericks. If you want to kick someone's ass, don't do it. Just fuck 'em over with your mental or social skills. That will work 100% of the time. No kidding. I've exercised this a lot of times AND IT WORKS.


A lot of my friends say they hate crime shows. It's all the same shit, and for the most part, they're right. For the wrong reasons, because they're blinded by the stereotypes, but still. For them, I recommend THE ROCKFORD FILES. Rockford, like his ancestors, was very unconventional. Given the choice between fighting crime and relaxing while eating tacos? He'd always choose the latter, even though the former would get him some money to survive. The guy lived in a trailer on the beach, for fuck's sake. For the most part, he had to come to a decision between hanging out with women he wanted to fuck or hanging out with his father, expertly played by Noah Beery, Jr. That's how most of his days went. (For those who didn't watch the show: he always chose his father.)


James Garner played regular guys, not superheros like Matt Dillon or whoever the fuck is in charge of LAW AND ORDER. That's why I identify with his characters over anyone else in Hollywood. Watch his episodes of MAVERICK. When he deals with dumb fucks or idiots of any variety, watch him. You'll know exactly how I would respond to the same dumb fucks and idiots. I recently watched an episode of MAVERICK with him in it that I hadn't seen before, and I literally--AND I MEAN LITERALLY--finished his sentences.


Wow. This went on for too long. Didn't mean that. I just meant to say that I'm sad Garner is gone. Did you know that Efrem Zimbalist Jr. died a couple of months ago? Neither did I, until today. I don't know why a big deal wasn't made about Zimbalist's death, because he was--once upon a time--an incredible actor. More importantly, he was one of the biggest villains/friends of Bret Maverick. He played Dandy Jim Buckley, who worked with the Mavericks several times but who always had his own motives. Sometimes, Dandy Jim won. Which is ridiculous for a Western back then. How could the good guy lose? Well, sometimes the Mavericks came up short, despite the well of knowledge Pappy left for them.


I like to think that James Garner found Jack Kelly in the afterlife, and that they're working together to bilk the devil for all he's worth. And I desperately hope the devil is really Zimbalist. Come on, he's got the perfect voice for it.


*sigh* All right. I'll go to bed. Goodnight, fuckers.













Are they gone? Good. This one is only for James Garner: rest in peace. You were great, and for the most part, you were underrated. Time will tell for you. If there's a motherfucker out there who disagrees, they're wrong. If they don't want to look into Bret Maverick or Jim Rockford, there is always SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL SHERIFF and SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL GUNFIGHTER. Those will change their mind.


Seriously, though. Thank you, James Garner. Without you, I wouldn't be the man I am today.








To those of you who have read this far, here's a bonus. My TV Western hero was James Arness as Matt Dillon on GUNSMOKE. He died not too long ago, and here's my tearful goodbye to him.
























You might also wonder why I led this piece with a picture of POKER ACCORDING TO MAVERICK. If you want to know the truth, I'm a really good poker player because of this book. At one point I decided to become a professional poker player, but I was too afraid of the slapdash lifestyle, so after winning about $3,000 at it, I chickened out. I mention this because I feel I would be lying if I didn't. But I saved it for last (and put it so far down in the piece) that I didn't think anyone would see it. Therefore, if I got involved in a poker game, no one would know about this . . . unless they paid attention to this. And who the fuck is actually still reading this? To those of you who have gotten this far, goodnight. Not fuckers. Goodnight, friends.
























You're still here? I'm glad. Thank you for reading this far. Here is the real emotion of what has happened. I'm crying my eyes out right now. Maverick and Rockford were heroes to me, and I can't stop the flood from my eyes. It is a bold reminder of my own mortality.


Goodbye, James Garner.