Old Gene Autry Movies
August 12, 2009 - by
When I was nine years old my ten year old cousin Jennifer was an Amazon â she could hit a baseball, throw a football and run faster than any boy. When it came time to choose up sides there wasnât any question whether sheâd play with the boys. The only question was which side was going to be lucky enough to get her.
Later, when her prowess on the neighborhood tennis courts would reduce some sixth and seventh grade boy to tears her mother would call out, Jenny, mind your manners and stop picking on those poor boys.
That was the balm that restored harmony and tranquility in those days: Good manners.
Nearly five decades later thereâs a forty year old Amazon loose on the tennis courts of Raleigh terrifying the men in the menâs city tennis league. Sheâs thrashing them so badly hardly a man in sight wants to play her â so sheâs having trouble getting matches. Her solution: She sued the city (on the theory not making evasive males play her â so she can trash them, again â is a form of discrimination).
At the same time over in Africa a student â who apparently never heard of female liberation â made the blunder of asking the Secretary of State her husbandâs opinion on foreign policy. Hillary gasped, then roared, âYou want me to tell you what my husband thinks? If you want my opinion I will tell you my opinion. I am not going to be channeling my husband. My husband is not Secretary of State. I am.â
It probably didnât help that Bill just flew back from North Korea decked in laurels and, in the process, stole the glow of Hillaryâs African trip right out from under her. But, whatever her reason, it apparently never occurred to Hillary to just smile sweetly and say, Young man, Iâve long since given up trying to figure out what goes on in Bill Clintonâs brain. But if you want my opinion Iâll do my best to answer your question.
The word channeling strikes me as odd too â isnât channeling what mediums used to do in séances so grieving widows could talk one last time to their husbands whoâd passed over to the other side?
At any rate modern times have come to the Congo and to the tennis courts of Raleigh â so weâve got a judge deciding a tennis dispute and Hillary boxing a poor Congolese studentâs ears, and to an aging male who grew up in a small southern town the memory of âJenny stop picking on the boysâ is fast becoming a fading glimmer of an all but extinct courtesy that, mostly, can only be seen these days in old Gene Autry movies shown Saturday mornings on TV.
Old Gene Autry Movies
August 12, 2009/
When I was nine years old my ten year old cousin Jennifer was an Amazon â she could hit a baseball, throw a football and run faster than any boy. When it came time to choose up sides there wasnât any question whether sheâd play with the boys. The only question was which side was going to be lucky enough to get her.
Later, when her prowess on the neighborhood tennis courts would reduce some sixth and seventh grade boy to tears her mother would call out, Jenny, mind your manners and stop picking on those poor boys.
That was the balm that restored harmony and tranquility in those days: Good manners.
Nearly five decades later thereâs a forty year old Amazon loose on the tennis courts of Raleigh terrifying the men in the menâs city tennis league. Sheâs thrashing them so badly hardly a man in sight wants to play her â so sheâs having trouble getting matches. Her solution: She sued the city (on the theory not making evasive males play her â so she can trash them, again â is a form of discrimination).
At the same time over in Africa a student â who apparently never heard of female liberation â made the blunder of asking the Secretary of State her husbandâs opinion on foreign policy. Hillary gasped, then roared, âYou want me to tell you what my husband thinks? If you want my opinion I will tell you my opinion. I am not going to be channeling my husband. My husband is not Secretary of State. I am.â
It probably didnât help that Bill just flew back from North Korea decked in laurels and, in the process, stole the glow of Hillaryâs African trip right out from under her. But, whatever her reason, it apparently never occurred to Hillary to just smile sweetly and say, Young man, Iâve long since given up trying to figure out what goes on in Bill Clintonâs brain. But if you want my opinion Iâll do my best to answer your question.
The word channeling strikes me as odd too â isnât channeling what mediums used to do in séances so grieving widows could talk one last time to their husbands whoâd passed over to the other side?
At any rate modern times have come to the Congo and to the tennis courts of Raleigh â so weâve got a judge deciding a tennis dispute and Hillary boxing a poor Congolese studentâs ears, and to an aging male who grew up in a small southern town the memory of âJenny stop picking on the boysâ is fast becoming a fading glimmer of an all but extinct courtesy that, mostly, can only be seen these days in old Gene Autry movies shown Saturday mornings on TV.