I Loved You, John Wayne

I loved you John Wayne! I wished you were my father or maybe an older brother who’d tutor me to be tough when manners weren’t enough and toughness was needed that civility be heeded and not to brag or complain. O I loved you John Wayne! As soon as I was old enough to earn the price of admission I saw your films in succession at the first run houses down in the big deal part of town and enshrined each one on a list taped to my bedside wall and read about the ones I’d missed. Shucks, I loved you most of all! Fort Apache and Red River took pride of place on the page; they’d eaten up my weekly wage. I missed the Yellow Ribbon; I hoped I’d be forgiven. At the Rio and the Broad (in a dicey neighborhood) I atoned with films you’d done before I was even born. Western after Western and tales of oil and whiskey and scheming ladies, O so risky! I hoped I’d be excused when I compromised my muse by adding well-built gals to Duke and all his pals. Montez, Russell, and Lake made my hormones quake. O I loved you, John Wayne. I could feel your bashful pain When the pretty lady roped you and hat in hand you’d bow, the furrow deepening on your brow, and utter monosyllables plus “Ma’am,” no longer a ram, more like a lamb. O I shared you pain, John Wayne! And still I loved you John Wayne, your true grit and donnybrook, your menacing brow, the look that said, “Enough, my friend. “This bull is going to end!” You swaggered? (not quite it-- as if your boots didn’t quite fit?) You took him by the horns and shook; Plomp! Down went the snook! How I loved you, John Wayne! And I love you still when again I see the doughty Duke on my smart TV as much as Papa’s lone old man, with fish chewed down to the bone loved Joltin’ Joe Dimaggio when the Clipper’s legs began to go and he was hobbled by his heel. John Wayne, you were the real deal.