The Night of the Wild and Woolly

I was really getting tired of looking at ugly old Omer's mug, and if there's going to be a wild eyed, wacko Mission resident at the top of this blog it's going to be that dude on the upper right. (No comments on that profile shot? What's the deal? Okay, all those hours of posing while listening to Miles Davis' In a Silent Way were wasted.)

W is my favorite letter, especially when it is pronounced properly and not in the manner of that sewer maggot holding the White (as in W) House hostage. Double U not Dubya, puh-leeze! Doesn't it just sound cooler when properly pronounced with all three syllables not with that lazy Texan two syllable drawwwwwwl? Why isn't M called double n? Or should it be double-upside-down-V? Double U is one of those simultaneously abstract and concrete concepts like the words sweater and pullovers. How long does one sweat into ones sweater until knowing it's time to shift to light weight linen? Double-U is so Dada, Cocteau and Duchamp all at the same time. Man Ray and Kiki did a very erotic commercial for the letter W that was too hot for Sesame Street.

My favorite use of the letter Double U is the Wild and Woolly West. The Wild, Wild West is a favorite use as well. I've been watching the second season (released just before the Summer of Love or was it the Somer of Luv?) The dreadful Will Smith/Kevin Kline movie of the same name diminished that wonderful series of the same name. Robert Conrad was very appropriately woolly back in the days when men waxed their hair and not their chests. I'm all for back and balls waxing, but I prefer just a little bit of appropriate chest trimming not waxing. I recently wrote a piece in my Old Fag's Writing Group about the influence of Bonanza on my sexual orientation, but WWW amped it up a bit more. Did any straight boys watch that show?
There were a lot of good West shows in the 1960s when they turned the whole concept on its head and left Death Valley Days in the desert dust. Did someone say....

Honey West....

Was there ever a greater opening theme? Who could not love a chick named Anne Francis? I love people with just a string of first names. Anne Francis was up there with Ann-Margret not to be misnamed Ann Margaret. Judy Julie Lulu Zza Zza Eva Lily Marie! A string of first names in a female moniker is so proto-feminist, announcing that she needs no phallic family name to define her. No wonder Babs forced William Wyler (double double yoos there) to excise most of Anne's scenes from Funny Girl. She knew competition when she saw it. I think her only line left in the flick was "Did he fire ya?"

Honey is a great name too. I hate it when men call me sweetie, dear, or darling. But I swoon when they call me honey. It really brings out my drone devouring instincts. Drip it on me, you drone!

More than Dune or Blade Runner, the original Wild, Wild West was the most Steampunk, post-modern, beefcake fagfest of all time. Besides wild woolly chest shots, Conrad usually strutted around in Grant Administration leotard dress pants that helped me ace my middle school male anatomy class. I could identify all 3,304 muscles below the waste line as result. He had more brocade and silk vests than Prince, Wendy, Lisa Apollonia, Sheila E and Vanity combined.

I also dug that all the episodes were titled "The Night of the..." In season 3, Junk Thief TV may call each episode "The Winter of the..." Whadya think?

Oh, and if you're looking for the definitive rendition of the theme song of the show, Cartman's version is the best. I know South Park is so 1998, but this is one that is worth diving into the archives. I feel so woolly and wild just dipping into the recent past.