I was so tiny I hardly remember the stories, but near lunch each day I used to listen to the Lone Ranger on the radio while my mom fixed lunch. Once he said, “Hi yo Silver and away!”, I knew lunch was about five minutes from the table. Clayton Moore’s Lone Ranger and Jay Silverheels’s Tonto on the television is my stronger memory. I sat on my living room floor in front of the tube waiting for the famous white steed’s heels galloping across the screen in “cloud of dust and the speed of light”. I have waited over a year for the new Lone Ranger movie. Even after I learned it was a tongue in cheek version of how the legend came about, I was anxious to see the movie.
I wanted to be sure and see this movie because at least twelve of the filming locations were set in New Mexico. I wasn’t disappointed by what I saw. The film had beautiful scenery capturing the thrill of the Old West. When I saw the characters pounding out the spikes on the railroad, I could almost feel the red dust on my face.
While I would have preferred a real western drama, I was not disappointed in the film since I knew what to expect. I mean a bird on a Comanche’s head? I don’t think so. But Johnny Depp did a fine job with that crow on Tonto’s head, although my favorite roll of Depp is still John Dillinger. (Women would consider becoming bank robbers for sure if they followed Johnny Depp’s Dillinger!)
I was entertained all along, even during the scenes that rang of mediocre melodrama, the kind where the damsel was tied to the train tracks. The ivory leg hiding a soiled dove’s gun was believable to me But the final chapter of the story was outstanding and worth the ticket price. When that William Tell Overture began to pound in my chest, I felt like standing up and waving our heroes onward. Runaway train, impossible escapes, thrilling maneuvers to match any Bruce Willis stunt was engrossing and even finishing off with a silver bullet! It was a summer movie after all, the kind where you engage your willing suspension of disbelief, gorge on popcorn, and come out trilling the Lone Ranger song; I got my money’s worth!
There are a lot of markets opening up right now. I think I got the following from the OWL web site for those writers who are interested.
CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS: Maine writer seeking personal essays and poems on grief/grieving for loss of person, pet, or figurative “loss” of someone to Alzheimer’s and the like for anthology in progress. Essays each no longer than 2,000 words; poems any length each up to 4 pages double-spaced. No limit on number of submissions; cutoff date, Sept. 30, 2013. All submissions acknowledged. Queries and submissions by USPS to M. Leamon, PO Box 113, Casco ME 04015, or e-mail to: firstname.lastname@example.org
"We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, but of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry."
William Butler Yeats