(photo of television after the show ended.)
“They say that ‘Guns don’t kill people, people kill people.’ Well, I think the gun helps. If you just stood there and yelled BANG, I don’t think you’d kill too many people.”
Groan…another Western
I pull my hearing aids out of my ears. It doesn’t help. Someone on the TV in the living room must be ready to pull out a gun. The conversational tone screams it. I fill in the script. “You stepped on my toe. And I’m gonna kill you for it.”
Okay. I admit it. I’m a peace monger at heart. Worse. One who drinks iced tea and hasn’t had a beer in thirty years.
Yes. I am certain there is a plot somewhere in the black-and-white episode one room away from me. Perhaps it is worth the gunpowder to follow it. The dead actors could get up after the script and appear in another episode. Or at least they could during the 1950s when the film was created.
Another gun blast. “Do you hear me, Marshall?”
Ignore it, Terry. Pay attention to your world. Breathe… Now breathe again. Get it out of your system and move on. Murder never solved any genuine problem. Life doesn’t come with a script.
Peace.