January 28, 2010

 

 

I was stunned Monday night when I learned that Pernell Roberts had passed away. He was 81, so I knew that this day would come eventually; I just didn’t think that I’d feel quite this sad or shed tears.  

After my family made the move to Louisiana, I spent Saturdays watching westerns–Bonanza, Gunsmoke, The Rifleman, The High Chaparral, and Big Valley. We moved in the summer, so the heat and humidity were quite a shock. Spending the day with the Cartwrights, Marshal Dillon, Lucas and Mark McCain, the Cannons, and the Barkleys was way better than frying outside.

Only one cowboy caught my tween heart’s attention and kept it–Adam Cartwright, played by Pernell Roberts. His looks and his voice made my little heart pitter-patter at a higher rate of speed.

A few years later, when I started watching Trapper John, M.D. , I didn’t understand why the Trapper of M*A*S*H* and the Trapper of the new show didn’t look anything alike. Yeah–I was a stupid kid. I loved Pernell’s Trapper, just in a different way than I loved Adam.

Bonanza was my first love, though, and one I didn’t forget even when no TV stations carried it.   When Hallmark began showing the later seasons, I happily watched even though there was no Adam because Joe, Hoss, and Ben were still on the Ponderosa.

Several years ago on a Saturday, I was flipping channels and was overjoyed to see that TVLand was running Bonanza all day long. Turns out they did that every Saturday. Woo-hoo! Plenty of Adam episodes to watch! I began taping episodes and one day decided to harness the power of Google to find out if there were any Bonanza sites on the web. Much to my surprise, there were several. I joined a couple of sites and began to share my love of the series, Adam, and the Cartwrights with fellow fans.

The more I got to know about Pernell the person, the more I began to admire him. He championed Civil Rights and didn’t just talk about it, but joined the march from Selma to Montgomery and protested for equal housing for all. The studio machine couldn’t intimidate him into staying in the shadows and only giving lip service and/or checks to organizations that supported Civil Rights. Pernell stood firmly by his principles and walked the walk. At the height of his popularity on Bonanza, he decided he’d had enough of playing a 30-something year old son who was often treated as a child and announced that he was leaving at the end of his contract. He didn’t look back after leaving, but went on to do roles that he wanted to do–whether on television or in the theater. Unfortunately, the media doesn’t seem to want people to forget that he left Bonanza and the first sentence of his obituary on Yahoo mentions it.  Leaving Bonanza gave him the opportunity to play so many different types of characters–good and bad–and really use all of his acting talent.

Reading tributes from people who knew him or encountered him has been wonderful.  People write of how he served as a mentor when  they were trying to get into the entertainment industry.  Several people from his hometown of Waycross, Georgia, write of meeting him in the grocery store and chatting with him.  Those who knew him speak of how he was warm, friendly, caring, and genuinely interested in helping other people.   

Thanks to the magic of television and DVDs, Pernell will live forever.  I can put on a Bonanza DVD and watch a young Pernell ride the Ponderosa with the rest of the Cartwrights. Or I can put on Ride Lonesome and see pre-Bonanza Pernell ride alongside a young James Coburn. Or I can put on a Trapper John DVD and see an older Pernell in surgical scrubs. Or I can put on Centennial and see him dressed in a military uniform, playing a general stationed out on the plains in the 1800s.  Or I can put on Young Riders and see him in one of his last television roles before he retired.   Right now I’m just feeling too blue to even watch Bonanza.

For me, Pernell Roberts will always be the young, handsome, principled and honorable man who brought Adam Cartwright to life.

My condolences go out to his wife, on the loss of her husband, and to his friends.

December 6, 2009

In another Bonanza story library, there’s been a sudden switch to stories that are focused on children instead of Ben, Adam, Hoss, and Joe–the Cartwrights as envisioned by David Dortort.    I’ve not read any of these stories because I want to read about Ben, Adam, Hoss, and Joe–prequels or “timeline.”

The chilren in these kiddie stories are typically Adam’s children (biological or adopted) or a Cartwright little sister whose mother was Marie.  IMO, the only Cartwright parent should be Ben (it’s okay for Inger and Marie to appear since they’re canon) and the only Cartwright kiddies should be Adam, Hoss, and Joe. 

I can’t figure out what’s behind the sudden kiddie focus.  Is it because these writers really aren’t familiar with the Cartwrights and haven’t seen many episodes to know who they are?  Are these writers putting themselves or their own children into these stories?  Perhaps these writers are revising their own childhoods so Ben is their father?  No clue.  I just don’t get it. 

To me, these stories are no longer about the Cartwrights even though they appear.  It’s as if they’re cardboard cutouts being brought into scenes and posed around since the kiddie characters are the focus of the story. 

A challenge has been issued to get stories about the Cartwrights written and posted.  Hope writers will take up that challenge!  I don’t have much time for reading anymore but I’d love to spend the time I do have on stories about the Cartwrights I know and love.  Hopefully I’ll even find the time to finish up a few of the Cartwright prequels that have been languishing on my ‘puter for a while.

August 29, 2009

My latest story, No More Games, is a What-Happened-In-Between to sort of serve as an explanation for why Adam would even bother to haul Kane’s body out of the desert in The Crucible.   Stumbling  through the desert, pulling the litter carrying Kane, Adam giggles/laughs several times.  What brought him to that point?

Kane has spent the majority of the episode rationing Adam’s food and water while he slaves away in a “mine” in an attempt to force the man to kill (mind games); when it doesn’t work, Kane has to up the ante.  The new game involves both men going for a loaded gun and the first one to reach it killing the other.  Adam’s on the verge of murdering Kane with his bare hands, yelling, ”No more games,” when he comes to his senses and begins to run off into the desert; it’s only Kane’s reminder that Adam was left in the desert to die, too, that brings the MIB back.  

My premise was that starvation and dehydration contributed to Adam’s state of mind while dragging Kane through the desert.  Everything the man had done was part of a game to force Adam to kill so he doesn’t realize that Kane is actually dead—he thinks it’s just another one of Kane’s mind games. 

When I began this story, it was in third person omniscient (most of my writing is in the omniscient POV so the reader is more or less a fly on the wall).   That didn’t work so I tried 3rd person with seeing everything unfold through Adam’s eyes.  All of those “hes” and “hims” didn’t work very well for telling Adam’s story.  As soon as I switched to first person, the story practically wrote itself.   So many readers told me that they felt they made the journey through the desert with Adam since they were seeing everything from his POV.  One reader told me that the  1st person POV made the story that much more chilling and uncomfortable because they weren’t a passive observer seeing the story unfold.

First person POV isn’t one I’m that comfortable using and there’s very few I’ve written that way.  It’s something I may try again, if a character has a very compelling tale to tell as with No More Games.

June 4, 2009

Last Friday, I posted my latest story–Wisdom Comes With Age.  Adam turns 30 and his brothers decide to haul him off to town to celebrate.  Since the comedic muse was defnitely on my shoulder, Adam’s birthday turned into a disaster with him accused of cheating at poker and then beaten up in a saloon fight.   It was really fun to write and many times I was laughing out loud while scribbling away.

The comedic muse is hinting at another story but I kind of want to let it percolate.  Maybe I should just write while the muse is speaking. 

Wisdom Comes With Age is my 45th posted story over at Bonanza World.  When I wrote my first story 2.5 years ago, I never thought I’d post more than five.   When I add in short stories I’ve written as writing challenges, a couple that were just for fun, and the story that’ll be published this September in the Bonanza Anthology,  it’s over 50.  It’s hard to believe I’ve had that many story ideas! 

Keep talkin’, Muse!  I’ll make time to listen. 

It’s been 1 of those weeks!  Whew!  Glad it’s almost over!!

What’s been the theme of the week?  Drama, drama, drama.  So many divas (and divos if that’s the male version) and not enough cans of whupass in the world to take care of them all.  Grrr!

Not sure which is worse–to be completely blindsided by a backstabber or to be left with the mess they’ve made.   Either way, not pretty. 

Another theme for the week?  People only want to hear the version of the truth that suits their purposes.  They don’t actually want to hear the truth.  Must be nice to live in Delusia on a permanent basis instead of having to wait your turn to use the timeshare.

May 22, 2009

I’ve got some flu-like virus and the sinus crud, so I’m miserable!  At least there’s plenty of over-the-counter meds to help with the variety of symptoms–aches, low-grade fever, chest congestion–and antibiotics to help with the sinus crud.  Times like this make me thankful for modern medicine.  What would the Cartwrights have done, though?

Hop Sing could have brewed up some herbal tea and added plenty of honey and whiskey or one of the Cartwrights could go to the General Mercantile in town for something over-the-counter.  The patent medicine industry (the bottles, not the contents, were patented) got its start in the U.S. in the 1820s but really took off in the 1840s.  Most 19th century patent medicines had a base of alcohol and water in which some kind of herb was added.  The alcohol content of medications such as bitters was usually greater than 25%; the user got a pretty good buzz and probably forgot about their miseries.  Well, what kinds of “meds” would have been available if the Cartwrights were sick?

James C. Ayer of Massachusetts had a whole line of medicines.  His Ayer’s Cherry Pectoral was for weak throats, pain in the lungs, congestion and consumption (tuberculosis).  Ayer’s Extract of Sarsaparilla was supposed to purify the blood as well as treat anemia, nervousness, prostration, and dyspepsia (indigestion).   Ayer’s began publishing an almanac in the 1850s that westward-bound pioneers could carry along; those hardy pioneers could select their medicine of choice from the catalog and order it by mail. 

Perry Davis of Massachusetts created his own brand of painkiller that became popular with sailors.  People stricken with cholera thought his medicine was an effective treatment.   Since it was mostly alcohol and opium, the user probably did feel pretty good when using the “medicine.”

Udolpho Wolfe had offices in New York and New Orleans.  The bitters made by this company was advertised for rheumatism, gout, kidney stones, and dyspepsia. 

Dr. Thacher’s Liver and Blood Syrup was promoted as a medication for kidney/liver disease, dyspepsia, bilious colic, headache, jaundice, malaria, and constipation.  At 8% alcohol, it probably left the consumer with a nice little buzz.

Hoss was seen rubbing liniment on Joe’s back to help with soreness in Ponderosa Matador.  Turns out the liniment Hoss decided to use was for livestock, not humans.  Oopsie!  Mexican Mustang Liniment, though, was for humans and critters and was to be used for the treatment of sparins, sores, cuts, and bruises.   Production of this medication began in 1825 in Missouri.

Dr. Hostetter’s Stomach Bitters became one of the best-selling “medicines” in the U.S. and was even issued to Union soldiers during the Civil War.  With an alcohol content of 44.3%, soldiers were probably glad to be drunk when charging into cannon fire or the Southern lines.  Following the war, this bitters was sold by the shot in saloons.  This medication was supposed to cure diarrhea, depression, stomach ailments, and indigestion; no doubt it left the user pretty happy.

Children’s medicines were pretty lethal since they contained alcohol and either morphine  or opium.  Mrs. Winslow’s Soothing Syrup  to be rubbed on the gums to cure colic, diarrhea, and ease the pain of teething.   Sadly, many infants were overdosed on this because the baby cried (colic, pain, dirty diaper, restlessness, etc.), the mother rubbed some of the “medicine” on the gums, baby stopped crying, and then the cycle was repeated.  Toddlers were often overdosed as well. 

Even though a big glass of wine might be nice for combating my flu-like symptoms and leave me feeling less grumpy, I think I’ll stick with Tylenol, Nyquil, and Claritin, the modern versions of patent medicines.   

References:

Adams, Samuel Hopins (1906) The Great American Fraud.  Published by P.F. Collier and Son, New York.

Davoli, Elizabeth L. (1996) In the Name of Prevention: An Examination of Patent Medicines in Ethnic Communities in Late-Nineteenth and Early-Twentieth Century Louisiana.  M.A. Thesis, Louisiana State University.

Devner, Kay (1968) Patent Medicine Picture. Published by Tombstone Epitaph, Tombstone.

Estes, J. Worth (1988) The Pharmacology of Nineteenth-Century Patent Medicines.  In Pharmacy  in History 30(1).  Published by the Institute of the History of Pharmacy, Madison, Wisconsin.

Fike, Richard E. (1987) The Bottle Book.  Published by Gibbs M. Smith, Inc., Salt Lake City.

Holbrook, Stewart H. (1959) The Golden Age of Quackery.  Published by the MacMillian Company, New York.

Kaufman, Martin (1981) “Step Right Up, Ladies and Gentlemen”: Patent Medicines in 19th-Century America.  American History Illustrated, August.

Schultz, Peter D., Betty J. Rivers, Mack M. Hales, Charles A. Litzinger, and Elizabeth A. McKee (1980) The Old Bottles of Sacramento: A Study of Nineteenth-Century Glass and Ceramic Retail Containers, Part I.  California Archaeological Reports No. 20.  Department of Parks and Recreatin, Sacramento.

Wilson, Rex L. (1981) Bottles on the Western Frontier.  Published by University of Arizona Press, Tucson.

Young, James Harvey (1961) The Toadstool Millionaires: A Social History of Patent Medicines in American Before Federal Regulation.  Published by Princeton University, Princeton.

April 22, 2009

The owner of a Bonanza site has received permission from Bonanza Ventures’ attorney to publish Bonanza fanfiction from that site’s library in a series of 3 books.  YAY!!!  A call for stories was made earlier this week and authors were told to submit 2 stories for consideration.  I’ve been going through the libary, checking out stories by my favorite authors and thinking, “I hope she picks this one,” or “It’d be so great if she picked that one.”   There’s so much talent that even with a limited number of plot options (bank robbery, stagecoach wreck, S?S, ES?, classic Cartwright(s) vs bad guy(s), and WHN/WHI for episodes, there are so many fantastic variations! 

So many stories in one place, and extremely portable, means that I’ll be able to haul some great reading to doctor appointments, the airport when I’m traveling, to the beach, or just sitting in my favorite chair around the house.   I plan on ordering several copies so I’ll always have one at the house, one in my desk at work (it’ll be hard to limit myself to just reading during lunch), and at least 1 for traveling.  

The first book will be coming out later this year and I hope it’ll be announced in a couple of months which stories will be included.   I’m so excited!

April 19, 2009

The last comedy I wrote (Passing Time and Popping Corn) was back in October–6 months ago.   My 3 most recent stories–Seeds of Doubt, A Woman Cloaked in Scandal, and Upholding the Family Pride–have been What Happened Nexts for episodes.   Each one has been rather dramatic.  Seeds of Doubt came about because I was dissatisfied with the episode The Lawmaker and felt the need to add more suffering Adam as well as a better ending.  Adam has a severe concussion but after a few hours is riding home for the Ponderosa?  I don’t think so!  A Woman Cloaked in Scandal is a “missing scene” from She Walks in Beauty in which Adam tries to decide whether or not to tell Hoss about Regan Miller and her scandalous past; my story begins after Regan, Hoss’s soon-to-be-fiancee, kisses Adam to buy his silence about her past. 

The ending of The Ride left me extremely dissatisfied–Ben pretty much tells Adam that it’s great he stood by his convictions but we’d better get home and do those pesky chores.   After Bill Enders tries to call Adam out of a saloon and into the street for a showdown, Hoss makes a crack about Adam being scared of Bill.  Adam tells Hoss that he is scared of Enders (the man is faster with a gun) but if it’ll restore the family pride, he’ll let Enders take a shot at him after he makes the ride from Goat Springs to Virginia City.  That was the primary basis for Upholding the Family Pride–Hoss’s guilt over that remark and the possibilities of what could happen in a showdown between Adam and Bill Enders.  This has got to be the darkest story I’ve written.

I’ve got a comedy in the works that includes Enos and Cora Milford from The Hayburner; it’s just been sitting idle for a while.  Looks like it’s time to pick that up and give myself the giggles as I write.

February 24, 2009

Mardi Gras 2009 will officially end at midnight tonight–not when the street sweepers begin cleaning up after the last parade but when the King of the Mistic Krewe of Comus invites Rex to the Comus ball and the two “monarchs” meet.  The Carnival season begins on Twelfth Night and Krewes hold their parades and balls.   That sweet, yummy creation known as the King Cake also traditionally makes its appearance on the 12th day of Christmas and can be found in bakeries thoughout the Carnival season.

Today, Mardi Gras is associated with decorated floats pulled through New Orleans streets, strings of plastic beads sailing through the air to crowds yelling, “Throw me something, Mister!”, and women flashing in hopes of getting the best strings of beads.  What was it like in Marie’s time?

Mardi Gras was celebrated in the 1700s when France governed Louisiana and the wealthy held balls where the participants wore masks to “hide” their identities; there were no parades as we think of them today.  When Spain took over Louisiana in the late 1760s, that government banned the celebration of Mardi Gras.  After the Louisiana Purchase in 1803, the American government upheld the ban on masked balls.  In the 1820s, the French population of New Orleans convinced Louisiana’s governor that the masked Mardi Gras balls were harmless fun and the governor allowed the festival to begin again.  By the late 1820s, masked revelers were allowed to “parade” through the streets in their carriages, on horseback, or on foot.  The first parade (as we would know a parade) was held in the late 1830s.  By the late 1840s/early 1850s, Mardi Gras parades became associated with violence and the tradition was almost outlawed.

The oldest of the New Orleans Krewes, Comus, was organized in 1857 in an attempt to save Mardi Gras.  The Krewe created floats for their parade and showed that Mardi Gras could be safe and fun.  Their floats were lit by flambeaux who carried torches and walked alongside the floats; the flambeaux were slaves or Free People of Color and they would put on such a show that spectators would toss coins into the street in appreciation.   There are a handful of parades today that are accompanied by flambeaux, so it’s a tradition that’s still parading on.

Marie probably would have attended one of the masked balls and maybe even would have taken part in one of the early street parades.  She was an accomplished horsewoman, so she might have paraded on her favorite steed.  After moving to the Ponderosa, she might have missed the festivity of the Carnival season and maybe she convinced Ben to hold a party or two with plenty of dancing and good food.

January 27, 2009

Cat Mama is the feral cat my mom has been feeding for a little over a year.   In the past year, she’s become used to Mom and will now follow her around the yard, down to the mailbox and back to the house, out to the garden where she’ll supervise Mom working, and just about anywhere else.  Most of the time, Cat Mama meows away as she’s walking with Mom, as if she’s talking about things she’s seen that day.  Mom enjoys her company, especially when she’s working in one of her many flowerbeds or in the garden as she’s got another living creature to talk to.  Sometimes, Cat Mama will sit on the mat outside the back door, as if she knows her human is in there and hopes she’ll come outside.  If Mom is working in the sun room, Cat Mama will sit outside the screen door and meow for her attention.  If Mom is sitting on the patio, sipping coffee and reading the newspaper or a magazine, Cat Mama will sit or lie down nearby and keep her company.

I’d noticed on rainy days that Cat Mama slept on a shelf under Mom’s little gardening table.  Since the weather began getting colder around Thanksgiving, I got an inexpensive litter box that’s shallow on one end, put some newspaper in it, and set it up under the carport so Cat Mama would have somewhere cozy to sleep.  Dad didn’t like the idea of the cat sleeping close to the house, so Mom put the box away in the sun room.  A couple of days later, she put some old towels in the litter box and set it up on the shelf under the gardening table; Cat Mama got in the box shortly afterwards.  That box is now her bed and she sleeps/sits there on rainy days and sleeps there most nights.  She can sit in the box and watch the backyard or curl into a ball and sleep in security and comfort.

Shortly before Christmas, Cat Mama took the brave step of sniffing Mom’s pant leg after Mom put food in her dish.  That was the closest the cat had ever come.  A couple of days later, she barely brushed her head against Mom’s pant leg.  Mom said the cat seemed startled that she’d done that and quickly trotted off a couple of feet.  Since then, Mom stands perfectly still after putting kibbles in the bowl in hopes that Cat Mama will make contact again.

This week, Cat Mama lightly brushed up against Mom’s leg several times without feeling scared.  This morning, Mom put the kibbles in the bowl, Cat Mama brushed up against her leg, and Mom gently touched the tip of the cat’s tail.  Cat Mama didn’t know what to think of that, apparently, and was quite startled.  When I got to my parents’ house this evening after work, Cat Mama was sitting near the doormat, almost in hopes that her human would come outside. 

Over the past 6 months, I’ve shared stories with Mom of how I befriended a feral cat many, many years ago; that cat gave me one of the most precious gifts I’ve ever had–one of her kittens.   I’ve emphasized that Mom just needed to be patient and let her relationship with Cat Mama develop on the cat’s terms.  I’ve teased her for a while, telling her that she’s Cat Mama’s human.  Cat Mama has finally decided that Mom is indeed her very own human and it looks they’ve been able to leave a pawprint and a handprint on each other’s hearts.

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