I Used to Like Clint Eastwood

As we have previously established, Uncle P is old. Old enough to remember when actor/director Clint Eastwood was hot. Seriously. In those Sergio Leone Spaghetti Westerns and on "Rawhide?" Damn! Hell, even in Unforgiven. I have not watched his current wife's 'reality' show on the E! network (though I generally loathe those kinds of programs), so it's been a while since I've seen him.

Last night, however,  Mr. Eastwood was the much bally-hooed "Surprise Guest" at the Republican National Convention, where he proceeded to ramble on to a empty chair for nearly 12 minutes (he had been given 5) and nearly caused Twitter to break down. If you haven't seen it, here it is:

Honestly, if any other 82 year-old had been caught talking to an inanimate object in public for 12 minutes, they would have been sent to a home. Still, I don't understand how an avowed Hollywood liberal (as illustrated in the graphic above) can support a platform of homophobia, misogyny and science-denial. Is this what happens after one turns 75? Does one suddenly change political parties and lose all sense of fashion at the same time? If that's the case, then please shoot me when (and if) I turn 70.  Better dead than poorly-dressed and ill-informed (or something like that). Oh - and no matter how old I am, if you ever see me with a comb-over, you have my permission to slap me as hard you can (hopefully dislodging the comb-over in the process).

I can only hope that dementia has set in. It's the only explanation for Eastwood's behavior last night that makes any sense to me. Of course, maybe someone slipped him some acid just before he went on. 

The whole thing makes me tired, angry and sad.

More, anon.
Prospero

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