Morning Thoughts: March 21,

I have some pet peeves about films that drive anyone me around crazy. Take handguns. No, don’t “take” them. Just consider an example.

Make notes from this, by the way. It’s important. When a semi-automatic pistol fires its last round, it doesn’t keep going “click click” when you pull the trigger. After the last round, the slide stays back and it looks pretty silly, which is probably why they don’t portray it accurately in movies.

As an inside, and you won’t be charged an extra cent for this, an Army-Issue 45-caliber semi-automatic pistol has three safety devices: the regular kind, a pressure-sensitive bar on the handle, and a disabling feature on the barrel if you press it into someone.

When I was a star-garnished member of the United States Navy (that’s a LOL for those who don’t know me) the Army-Issue 45-caliber semi-automatic pistol was responsible for more accidental deaths than any weapon in history. A drunk discharged one while going through a checkpoint once that sent a slug whistling by a foot from my leg and embedding itself into a pile of sandbags. I was left to ponder the question forever whether, had the round nipped my leg, would I have earned the Purple Heart and the CIB?

Later, there was a Marine on our ship who killed his relief while showing him his “fast-draw” technique. It was a sad and tragic affair that should remind us that weapons of war are not playthings. I can still see the face of each Marine, both very nice guys.

Now how did I get off track? Oh, I remember. Pet peeves in movies. My most despised involves music. Incidentally, I have found no examples of accidental, or intentional, deaths from a musical instrument, even a banjo or accordion. I think Bing Crosby threw a sweet-potato whistle at Bob Hope once, but he missed.

No, my peeve involves bio-pics of the lives of musicians. Let me ask you. In all the films you’ve ever seen about the lives of great musicians, have you ever witnessed a scene in which they were practicing?

I doubt it. The scenarios generally run like this.

- A child witnesses someone playing beautiful music on some instrument

- The child is intrigued

- The child is too poor to obtain an instrument, but obtains one somewhere

- The child immediately plays music on a street corner but makes no money

- The child has to pawn the instrument

- The child works a series of meaningless jobs and, along the way, falls in love

- Love gets the instrument back somehow

- Love produces scene after scene of amorous adventure and disharmony

- Love triumphs and the couple spends a year abroad doing God knows what

- In the penultimate scene, the hero or heroine is playing a Paganini violin concerto in a packed concert hall

Scenes of passionate love: dozens. Scenes of bitter poverty and despair: dozens. Scenes of a musical performance: dozens. Scenes of practice: none.

It’s like a child can get a guitar for Christmas, open a tab book, and play the guitar break from Hotel California (both parts simultaneously) that evening for his family. We don’t need no stinkin’ knowledge or practice. Everything in life is simple and easy. Just ask a Libertarian.

Is it any wonder that we have elected such a bunch of clueless clowns to run our country?

I don't think he learned his craft
by running a reality TV show.