I'll Call It Like I See It

by sheila morris

Category: Random

  • last train from Gun Hill – and Ukraine

    last train from Gun Hill – and Ukraine


    In 1959 when I was thirteen years old, my daddy decided unexpectedly to take my mama and me to a movie in Houston, Texas. This was HUGE for me because (1) my daddy never wanted to spend any money on entertainment other than what entertained him which was bird hunting, fly fishing and shooting hoops (2) we lived in a small rural town in Grimes County where the nearest movie theater was 20 miles away in Navasota so movies were not just around the block (3) an excursion to Houston was 90 miles from our home – not an easy trip on back country roads leading to the big city. But Daddy knew that Mama and I loved the movies which seemed to be the magnanimous reason the three of us got “dressed up” to go to one of the theaters in downtown Houston that I thought was really a palace with a gigantic movie screen.

    Daddy parked our Chevy sedan a short walking distance from the theater district – Mama didn’t mind walking in her high heels; I was excited and did a fast trot to see the Loew’s marquee.

    Wow, I thought. A Western. Totally unexpected but Daddy and I watched westerns together every Saturday on our 14-inch television set – Tom Mix, Gene Autry, Roy Rogers and Dale Evans. Those westerns were a staple in our weekend activities.

    Mama, on the other hand, was not a western fan. When she clicked her high heels on the pavement to the theater, her expression seemed to change from smiling to frowning. I knew she thought Doris Day/ Rock Hudson in romcom was the surprise picture Daddy had for us. Instead here she was at Last Train from Gun Hill with Kirk Douglas and Anthony Quinn in what turned out to be not at all akin to Tom Mix trying to catch train robbers.

    Anthony Quinn portrayed the wealthiest and most powerful man (Craig Belden) in the Wild West town of Gun Hill. Kirk Douglas was U.S. Marshall Matt Morgan from a nearby town on a mission to catch two men who raped and killed his Native American wife. Spoiler alert: Belden’s son was the villain. Belden thought he was above the law, wouldn’t allow Morgan to arrest his son. The key question in my teenage mind was how could anyone be above the law? Was that possible?

    In the end, a woman of questionable occupation named Linda (Carolyn Jones) saved Marshall Morgan’s life by clandestine means including stealing a shotgun she hid under her scarlet red dress with wide hoops. She stood up to the most powerful man in Gun Hill which precipitated success for the Marshall in a tragic shootout when he was so close to the last train.

    I was enthralled and stole occasional looks at Daddy’s face which seemed less enthusiastic in his movie selection. Must have been the rape scene – mild by today’s standards, but probably a bit grownup for his thirteen year old daughter. Oh, well. No retreat, no surrender for him to Mama’s pouting.

    The Wild West images of America were exported and transported around the world via our movies in the Golden Age of Hollywood throughout the mid twentieth century. Guns were seen as necessary to preserve Good over Evil; maybe those images were partly responsible for the gun violence in real life six decades later that threatens American communities.

    Last night I saw another version of our hero Marshall Morgan recreated in the person of the Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy when he addressed a meeting of the joint houses of the US Congress to eloquently thank the American people and our Allies for our support of the Ukrainian defense against the tyranny of Vladimir Putin of Russia and to ask for additional aid from the United States to continue the fight to preserve democracy in his home country.

    Vice President Kamala Harris and House Speaker Nancy Pelosi

    (this image a symbol of the success of the women’s movement)

    Historic meeting on many levels – prior to Zelenskyy’s speech I was immediately struck with this image of two women who in the past six years have been the “Lindas” of their respective offices, two women who have stood for upholding the laws as set forth in their constitutional oaths. No shotguns required – their words are enough to cut through the spinelessness of their male colleagues who refuse to stand against a treasonous former president hellbent to be the equivalent of a modern day Craig Belden who is disrespectful of the law and those who seek to uphold it.

    During the past year I have had friends and family argue that Ukraine is a long way from our homes, that the billions of dollars we have used to help them in their resistance to Russia should be spent on the problems we have in America. I believe President Zelenskyy addressed this thinking in one of the most impressive manners in the first speech to Congress by a war time president since Winston Churchill on December 26, 1941.

    The Russians’ tactic is primitive. They burn down and destroy everything they see. They sent thugs to the front lines. They sent convicts to the war. They threw everything against us, similar to the other tyranny, which is in the Battle of the Bulge. Threw everything it had against the free world, just like the brave American soldiers which held their lines and fought back Hitler’s forces during the Christmas of 1944. Brave Ukrainian soldiers are doing the same to Putin’s forces this Christmas…

    Ukraine — Ukraine holds its lines and will never surrender. So, so, here the front line, the tyranny which has no lack of cruelty against the lives of free people — and your support is crucial, not just to stand in such fight but to get to the turning point to win on the battlefield…

    Your money is not charity. It’s an investment in the global security and democracy that we handle in the most responsible way...

    The lessons learned in Last Train from Gun Hill sixty-three years ago remain the same. Might does not, nor will it ever, make right. From Craig Belden to Donald Trump, from Marshall Matt Morgan to President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, from Linda to Nancy Pelosi and Kamala Harris – these are the courageous stories that must be told, that must be heard. No one was above the law in the fictional Wild West in days of yore; no one is above the law in democracies today.

    Slava Ukraini. For the children we want to see become adults in a free country.

  • twas the week before Christmas…

    twas the week before Christmas…


    and all through the house just one creature was stirring, for sure not a mouse.

    The colorful papers were wrapped into shape by Pretty whose hands never made a mistake.

    Her gifts were bought with the greatest of care throughout the year from here, there and everywhere

    But now came the question that brought such a fright amidst wrapping papers in the morn’s early light:

    What on earth did I do with all of those gifts for 2022?

    ******************

    Meanwhile, I offer support without stirring in front of the fire but cheering on Pretty whose care I admire.

    Ok. That’s enough. Somebody stop me. The Grinch in me is done.

    *************

    Pretty has always been the heart of our holidays.

    Pretty at Christmas on Canterbury in 2012

    Slava Ukraini. For the children.

  • I hope you dance

    I hope you dance


    (I looked over my posts in 2022 to determine which ones were favorites as decided by my followers in cyberspace, and then I picked one from your favs that was in my top three to post again. Enjoy.)

    I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
    You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
    May you never take one single breath for granted,
    God forbid love ever leave you empty handed,
    I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
    Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
    Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance,
    And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

    I hope you dance… I hope you dance…

    I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,
    Never settle for the path of least resistance,
    Livin’ might mean takin’ chances, but they’re worth takin’,
    Lovin’ might be a mistake, but it’s worth makin’,
    Don’t let some Hell bent heart leave you bitter,
    When you come close to sellin’ out reconsider,
    Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
    And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

    I hope you dance… I hope you dance.

    (Time is a wheel in constant motion always rolling us along,
    Tell me who wants to look back on their years
    And wonder where those years have gone.)

    lyrics to “I Hope You Dance” by Tia Sillers and Mark Sanders

    For my actual birthday this week, Pretty took me and our granddaughters to the zoo. She carried Molly in her car seat, diaper bag on her back, often carrying Ella in her left arm while I tagged along with my two bionic knees. We had a small parade of our own. Please know that I offered to rent a stroller when we entered, but Pretty said the line to rent one was too long to wait. There were two people ahead of me.

    The day was a memory maker, and Pretty deserves an award for creating a magical time for the four of us. I love all my girls.

    I hope they both dance…

    *****************************

    Slava Ukraini – for the children.

  • a child’s question

    a child’s question


    the Pride flag and the broom

    Last week I saw our 3 year old granddaughter Ella trying her best to strike our Pride flag with a broom she found in the back yard. I watched as she struggled to swing the broom handle several times in the air with increasing agitation each time she flailed without success.

    “Ella,” I said. “What in the world are you doing? That’s our Pride flag – it’s very important to your nanas.”

    “I’m waiting for the candy to fall,” she answered with a withering look in my direction.

    Lol.

    Ella and Pretty at the Gamecock Women’s basketball game several days later

    “Nana, did any candy ever fall out of your Pride flag?”

    We had to report no candy yet.

    ****************************

    Slava Ukraini. For the children.

  • a case of mistaken identity

    a case of mistaken identity


    We all make mistakes, and here’s one of mine.

    This is the cat formerly known as Bully Cat.

    When Carport Kitty (may she rest in peace) first started hanging around in our carport more than a year ago, a larger comparatively healthy looking gray cat which I now know is a type of Tabby attacked the smaller frail Calico we named CPK when she walked toward her food bowl one afternoon. I then jumped to the conclusion that the larger gray cat was malicious so I named this interloper Bully Cat. Later on I found it strange that CPK always left Bully Cat some of her food – she seemed to be friends with this cat I chased off every time I caught him lingering over her food bowl. And when I say chased off, I’m not talking about chasing in a nice way.

    How could Bully Cat be mean if CPK liked him?

    Regardless of my high drama trying to scare him away, the Bully Cat stayed close to CPK for as long as she lived. Since her death five weeks ago, Bully Cat and another CPK amigo I dubbed Tuxedo Cat have wandered through our carport periodically. I told Pretty they were grieving for her, but turns out they were interested in the reliable food chain that once belonged to Carport Kitty.

    No one will be surprised I put out a small amount of kibble in the morning for Tuxedo Cat when she triggered our security lights the way CPK used to do. Sigh. I miss that little creature every day.

    Tux usually shares with Bully Cat like Carport Kitty used to do.

    This morning, however, I looked out my kitchen door and saw the Bully Cat hissing at Tux, his back arched for battle, teeth bared. What in the world had gotten into him? And then I saw it: a pink rhinestone infused collar around his/her thick neck. A light bulb went off in my tiny brain that I had just seen Bully Cat sharing a morning meal with Tux in our carport. No sign of a pink rhinestone collar five minutes before.

    The only explanation I could think of when I told Pretty the story was the Bully Cat I had berated for months was really Carport Kitty’s friend – there was a mean Tabby in our neighborhood, but it wasn’t him. I felt awful for my mistake, my unwillingness to change my original judgment which was a simple case of mistaken identity. (Bully Cat has been renamed Belli Cat by Pretty, same initials BC.)

    No one lives to be seventy-six years old without making blunders, but this one was a doozy. I have no excuses, but I hope I’ve been reminded of a valuable lesson about looking twice before I jump to judgment…sometimes our mistakes have a ripple effect that hurts the innocent.

    If we’re lucky, we get a second chance.

    ******************

    Today is the 1st day of December. Pretty and I want to share a miraculous Christmas cactus we somehow managed not to kill in the five months since she brought it home from one of her treasure hunts. Enjoy.