Saddle Up and Move ‘Em Out; or Hello Again, My Gauchos

Whoa, buckos and buckorettes, a year? My, time flies when you’re working and developing projects that don’t, on the surface, seem to connect to westerns. But as we all know, everything that is anything actually connects–

Josey Wales: Are you gonna pull those pistols or whistle Dixie?

Right. Got it. STFU and write.

To paraphrase another Clint, Blondie in The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, I’m going to put my blog on and take my work Stetson off, offering no explanations, no excuses, except to say it’s been a long strange trip, and I’m glad to kick back on this dusty cyber-trail again.

Upcoming are some reviews of westerns and sort-of westerns that have piled up, and an incredible amount of western films that add a little more grit to the genre. And an up-close look at real grit. And a lunchbox, because only real cowboys use lunchboxes, by God.


(c) 2015 es




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