High Noon

"Dew not forsake me, oh mah darlin," ran through my head as I waited for Matt, the ‘twenty-something’ counterman, to get around to me, "On this our wedding day-aaay." Memories are like that, woven through our consciousness like threads in the fabric of life. "Dew not forsake me, oh mah darlin’ – wait – wait along."

"Hey, enough already, Wil, ya ain’t waited all that long." I guess I’d been singing out loud. "I’ll get to you as soon as I can." Matt resumed his pretence of ignoring me.

Memories are like that, you know. You go and get enough of them, and they take over – ruling your thoughts and actions. It’s a survival mechanism. "Oh, sorry, Matt. It’s an old movie theme from way back when."

"The good ol’ days, huh?" Matt didn’t look up, but I knew him well enough; I had his attention.

"I’m sure you know it. The movie was High Noon."

BLANK FACE

"You know, Matt. With the old western star, uh…

"Clint Eastwood?"

"No, long before that. Uh, Gary… Gary Cooper. That’s who it was.

BLANK FACE

"Oh, come on Matt. You say you love movies. You musta seen it – won an Academy Award back in the black and white days. It’s considered the consummate Western. I hear tell Clinton watched it 26 times when he was in office.

Matt hadn’t, however. I went on to explain how it was a perfect representation of what we, as Americans, face today – the importance of visualizing context through the eyes of another perspective. Cooper was a lot like Tom Hanks in Catch Me if You Can. As the local no-nonsense law officer, he drove out the evil doers and cleaned up the town. Now, just as he’s turned in his badge and wedded the love of his life, he receives a telegram that the worst outlaw of them all has been released from prison and is arriving on the High Noon Train to face him down.

What’s he to do; turn tail and ride off into the sunset like his new wife, a Quaker, insists? "Oh to be torn twixt love and duty…" Or should he stand his ground, facing up to a responsibility only he still feels? "Sposin’ I lose my fair-haired beauty…" If so, she’s vowed to ride the High Noon train out of his life. And, since he’s married outside of his faith structure, will his former associates also leave him to face eternity alone? "I’m not afraid of death but, oh, what will I do if you leave me?"

"Matt, ya gotta go rent this movie!"

Matt promised to do just that, "uh huh," but I was left with a nagging discontent. How can the generations communicate without knowing who’s on first? Lacking common metaphors, it’s no wonder we’re beginning to see a disconnect between the Gen-Xers and the Baby Boomers. And, what of those called The Greatest Generation – the generation that saved the world for democracy? Might there yet be something we can learn from them – if we can find a common meeting ground?

I remember how my generation was going to change the world – alter "that time honored way things had been done?" But, what happened? We seem to have sold out for a false sense of security that crumbled in a heartbeat. But, we can still have a positive effect. The time has come to take on our proper roles as history’s conscience.

My oldest son recently pointed out that Grandpa’s traditional duty was to compile the family history preserving how things got to be and who was responsible for what. That holds true in both a societal as well as a tribal context. So, I have begun sharing old movies and other sacred ceremonies such as Abbot and Costello’s "Who’s On First Routine" with the kids. Their reactions have been inspiring.

George Orwell once penned (in 1984), "He who controls the past controls the future." Taking a cinematic look at the past and, in its context, extrapolating how we got here from there could very well empower ensuing generations. Movies such as 1984, To Kill a Mockingbird, Easy Rider, Fahrenheit 451, Little Big Man, It’s a Wonderful Life, and even Abbot and Costello Meet Frankenstein (the kids favorite) hold clues often overlooked. Another, Adam’s Rib, starring the recently deceased Katherine Hepburn, seems dated until one considers how women were still not permitted to sign legal documents (let alone be lawyers) in some states as recently as the 1970s. Viewed within that context, Adam’s Rib becomes metaphorical to the struggle for equality of the sexes.

In this context, the local Blockbuster becomes more valuable than the Library when it comes to fulfilling the grandfatherly role of history instructor. Reading is a private activity. But, the entire family can be entertained and enlightened while gathered around a movie. Scenes can be replayed as well if someone misses something. Afterwards, I’ve found my kids enjoy asking questions and sharing impressions. I’m already looking forward to the Christmas season. I want to share with my grandchildren the reasons why It’s a Wonderful Life, now considered the consummate American movie, was originally blacklisted as un-American and see where their reactions take us.

So, just what would you most like to share with your kith and kin? Pick out a representative movie, order up some pizza, and get on with it.

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