Death had a goddamn field day this week. Today I learned that Tom Laughlin, creator of the Billy Jack character/films, passed on Thursday. This is one of those deaths that affects me more deeply than most. I first saw Billy Jack when I was around nine. It was the first adult film with a strong political/societal message that got me in the gut. I’m certain the director Peter Weir felt the same, because the famous
is pure homage to the final scene of this film. I became a little obsessed with the movie, and the song, One Tin Soldier, which did — and I just learned, still does — make me cry upon every listen. Plus I had a huge crush on Tom Laughlin. Or Billy Jack. That might have been the imprint of my “ideal man”: fair minded, stoic, tender, dark eyed, and one will stop at no means to stop — rather, will beat the shit out of — anyone who threatens who or what is dear to him.
It’s so random. Why do some things, some people, affect us so very uniquely and profoundly; and the random chance of simply those things entering our life. How the hell did “Billy Jack” even get on my 9-year old radar? Trust me, it wasn’t my parents or my brothers. I’m just grateful it did.
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