In my nomadic missionary childhood I visited some cool places. One of my favorites was Old Tucson, a mock old west town outside of Tucson, AZ, used as a movie set. While I was fascinated by many places in the world, I was, at heart, an American boy. What better epitomizes the American boy than the wild west? This place captured it in all of it’s glorious spur clinking, ideological detail. John Wayne walked these streets and to some folks that makes this place about as holy as Jerusalem. You can just hear that dusty drawl utter sentences that would make the outlaw wish he had a change of underwear. Of course now I know that when they yelled, “CUT!” Mr. Wayne grabbed his bottle of fizzy water and headed over to his trailer for a rubdown. Such is Hollywood. But when I was a kid, I didn’t care what famous muckity muck shot a movie here. I loaded my toy peacemaker with deadly plastic bullets, twirled it around a couple of times, and dropped it in my plastic holster. I cinched up the string on my blood red hat, and adjusted my blue bandana. My imagination wandered and before I knew it I was Wild Bill, standing in the middle of a dusty street, eyebrows gathered as my furrowed forehead pointed my imaginary enemy to make intense eye contact with his worst nightmare. Heart beating, sweat beading, I was only too sure that while he was fast, I was faster. There’s only two kinds of cowboy out here in the old west, the quick and the... “Biiiilllllllllyyyyyyy!” Mom’s voice broke my concentration. “We’re going to the pony rides and after that, we’ll get ice cream.” Was she kidding? Cowboys who trade lead with murderous horse thieves don’t go on pony rides. The attendant lifts me onto the back of ‘Lightning’. Mom and Dad watched while I was led around on the yard, at least that’s what they saw. In my mind, I was in full gallop on the back of a stallion, arrows whizzing past my head. The horse winces as an arrow pierces it’s left flank. It’s stuck fast, but ol Lightning isn’t gonna slow up and let his faithful friend lose his scalp, no sireee. I turn and empty my six shooter... “Ride’s over, kid.” says the attendant. What’s with these people? Right when it’s getting good. Adults just don’t understand that when you’re in the zone, you can’t just call the ride to a halt, have a potty break, or go get ice cream cones. Wait. Ice cream cones sound pretty good. “Hey Mom, wait up!”
So here I sit, 24 years later, in the parking lot of Old Tucson. It’s closed now. I got here a little too late. It just doesn’t feel quite right to drive all the way out here, and simply drive away. So I guess I’ll sit here and do some reminiscing for awhile. Wait a minute. An attendant just opened a gate. I have a hankering to be my dad for a sec and go ask him if I can just take a quick look around. After all, what do I have to lose? What would Wild Bill do? I’m getting out of the car...