Being a child of the 50’s, I love a good old shoot em up western. There was nothing better on a Saturday morning than watching Roy Rogers or Hopalong Cassidy or the Lone Ranger chase after the bad guys while you munched your Corn Flakes or Rice Krispies. A few years later I had Cheyenne, Bonanza, Sugarfoot, and Gunsmoke to continue my love affair with the western.
This love of the Old West has continued into my adult life. I enjoy a good western on the big screen. Unfortunately, I can’t recall a real good one since The Lonesome Dove series but I’ll watch Rio Bravo every time it reruns on TV. And I love reading Old West stories written by the likes of Zane Grey and Louis L’Amour.
Westerns are great for one main reason; you can always tell the good guys from the bad. The good guys wore white, rode white horses, could sing a good song, and were clean shaven, usually. The bad guys wore black, smoked cigars, and had moustaches. Now that I think about it, though, Hopalong was an exception to that rule because he actually wore black. You cheered for the good guy and you booed the bad guy.