I had a chance to meet one of my hero's a few days back. If I had to capture the experience and draw it in the form of a graph, it would look an awful lot like a giant check mark. I say giant because heroes are always larger than they seem. Growing up I was drawn to cowboys and super heroes. I new all the super heroes lived in New York and therefor all the cowboys lived out west. There I was, trapped in the Mid West, a virtual no mans land. I don't want to get into name calling, but as Bob Dylan sang it, I was stuck in the middle with you. I made quite a few contacts with more cowboys than I did super heroes. I established a friendship with western writer and artist, Bob Boze Bell, Mark McPherson and the wife of the Fastest Gun alive Becky Munden. (Bob and Becky by mail) Years later I had a chance to meet Bob Munden in person. I was headed out to his house in Butte,Montana. I was with a friend that was going to have some work done to a six shooter and for what he wanted, Bob was the man.
Bob had a house in town that served as an office. When we pulled up outside the address, it didn't look like a cowboy lived there. A quick nock on the door and there he was, in the flesh,Bob Munden. I had watched Bob on many of Saturdays on TV doing quick draws and trick shooting and I couldn't wait to see what would happen. After the initial introduction and 15 minutes into the conversation I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Bob was all business, PERIOD! What a gip! Bob talked softly, took my pals six shooter, worked on it while we both looked on in silence and that was it. I was heart broken, my hero was not so super after all. He finished the gun, handed it to my pal for inspection and brief small talk, cash exchanged hands and that was that.
Just as soon as the work was done, a switch got flipped. Bob came alive, as though he stepped into a phone booth or something. Before you know it we were laughing and listening to stories. Great stories! A few minutes later, Bob was dragging out pictures of famous celebs, sharing stories and then..................out came the hardware. Bob had two, matching gold colts with ivory handles. He drew them out of their leather holster, even as the rig rested inside a duffel bag. He gave them a quick twirl, flipped them around and handed them to me but first. "Check these out", he said. How cool was that? The big iron just kept coming out, from coach guns to lever actions. It just went on and on. Eventually some friends of Bob's came over, (all dressed as though they walked of the set of an old western). The outcome? More holes in the breeze. Bob turned out to be a great guy and still remained my hero. If you get a chance to see Bob on TV or in person I have one simple piece of advice,Don't Blink!
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