Today is my grandfather's eighty-first birthday. He has been a father for nearly sixty years, a grandfather for nearly forty, and has gallantly served as both to me for twenty-two years.
The eighty-first birthday isn't the one we traditionally celebrate. It's not seventy-five, it's not ninety, and it certainly isn't one hundred, but it is his eighty first birthday and there is a real western movie in theaters.
What? Yes, my grandfather is a die hard western fan. And there hasn't been a decent western since Unforgiven. Hot damn!!
It isn't just a western...because if you're like me you roll your eyes when the opportunity of watching a western is before you...it is a western with humor:
[Potter is getting ready to go and join the posse who have gone after the stage robbers]
Alex Potter, town drunk: Ain't cha gonna help catch 'em?
Ben Wade: Ah, wish I could.
Potter, town drunk: What'd they look like?
Ben Wade: Oh, they'll be easy to catch. That's three big men on three white horses.
Alex Potter, town drunk: [as he starts to ride off] Three white fellas... on three big horses, huh?
Though I doubt I could talk my grandfather into leaving the house, you all should. Go see 3:10 to Yuma it will be well worth your time.
Happy birthday, Gramps!