Issue #43
SPRING 2013
PIXELCHATTER Kevin Brown, Photographer
TM
Texas The
Sweetwater
Issue
Snakes, snakes, and more snakes.
The Stars at Night Deep in the heart...
Am I Blue? Turning day to night.
Cowgirl Chicks
They’re tougher than you. Prettier, too.
Two-Headed Calf
Got milk? A real life horror story.
Read all the fine print in this issue for a chance to win an iTunes gift card.
I love Texas. Giddy-up. “
P
Scott Anderson
erhaps one cannot be called a true Texan if one doesn’t own a cowboy hat. I do not. Come to think of it, I never have. I’ll leave the hat wearing to those that wear them well and aren’t trying to be something they clearly aren’t. No drugstore cowboy here. I’m reminded of the Lyle Lovett lyric, “you can have my girl, but don’t touch my hat.” Well said, Lyle. But despite my non-cowboy hat wearing ways, I am indeed a Texan and proud to call myself one. Born in Irving, I’ve lived 37 of my 47 years in the Lone Star State. Arlington has been home since ’85, but I’ve traveled corner to corner, from Texarkana to El Paso, from Texline to Port Arthur. And yes, Texas is big. How big? Well, the past few weeks I’ve been on the road a bit, shooting down in San Antonio and out west near Big Spring. When I was in Big Spring there was a sign on I-20 that read El Paso 345 Miles. That’s hard to imagine, considering I was already in west Texas. If you’re not from Texas, I’m sorry. I’m sure where you’re from is great (sure it is), but it ain’t Texas. And if you haven’t visited Texas, why the hell not? We don’t all wear cowboy hats and boots (I do have boots and wear them quite well, thank you) and no, there are no tumbleweeds blowing down Main Street. Well, I better take that back...I actually have seen tumbleweeds blowing down Main St. The fact is, you won’t ever find a better plate of mexican food, a better slab of beef brisket, or a colder Shiner beer than in Texas. The people aren’t bad either; they’re the best. And Texas is a helluva place to run a photography business. Whether I’m shooting in cosmopolitan Dallas or on the brick streets of the Fort Worth Stockyards, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. New York. L.A. Chicago. Fine cities indeed. But I’m fine right here, in Texas.
Kevin Brown
KB Kevin Brown, Photographer and Chief Chatterer ON THE COVER Cowboy Tommy Knotts with his trusty buffalo gun, at Enchanted Springs Ranch, near Boerne, Texas.
PixelChatter is photographed, written, and created in-full by Kevin Brown.
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For the best viewing experience, click on the two arrows at the top of the screen that look like this:
A shot from my ‘Texas’ archives. Model Emily outside Fort Worth’s Stockyards Hotel. Shot for Lane Boots/Creative Magma.
The stars
From Dallas to the dusty plains near Big Spring...from Stephenville to historic San Antonio, Kevin Brown puts his camera to work, deep in the heart of Texas.
at night...
Camera Data: Nikon D4. ISO 3200, 25 seconds, 21mm @ f4.5. Pumpjack lightpainted with 2,000,000 candle power spotlight for 5-8 seconds at a distance of 50 yards away, off-camera left.
A Breitburn Energy pumpjack near Big Spring, Texas. Shot for their Annual Report.
Sunrise in Big Spring
A cowboy, Dennis, gazes out the window of a saloon at Enchanted Springs Ranch, near Boerne, Texas.
The Sheriff, at Enchanted Springs Ranch. And of course, his name is “Buck.”
A violinist in the San Fernando Cathedral Plaza in San Antonio.
A future rodeo star sits on his dad’s knee, on a ranch near Stephenville, Texas. This was a spontaneous moment. I managed to get off one photo.
The ‘heeler’ of a team roping duo shows off his skills near Stephenville, Texas. Shot for Tarter Farm and Ranch Equipment.
THE ALL AMERICAN COWGIRL CHICKS
T
housands of people have appeared before my camera over the years. Some I’d be hard-pressed to recognize a week after photographing them, and some I could never forget in a hundred years. The All American Cowgirl Chicks certainly fall into the unforgettable category. The Cowgirl Chicks bill themselves as an equestrian drill team. In short, they’re trick riders. They travel the rodeo circuit all year long performing to tens of thousands of people all over the country. In 2012 they logged 100,000 miles as they took their show on the road. I spent two full days shooting with the Cowgirl Chicks for one of their sponsors, Tarter Farm and Ranch Equipment. Overflowing with personality and politeness (I’ve never been called ‘sir’ so many times in my life), the Chicks are both beautiful and brave. Their work ethic and dedication to their craft was certainly on display the two days I spent with them. It was like watching the X-Games, only with horses. The shoot was a combination of portraits as well as action photos of the girls on horseback.....and horse-side...and horse-rear for that matter. I used a variety of gear on the shoot. All photos were shot with a Nikon D4. The action shots were lit using four Nikon SB900 speedlights, off-camera, and grouped together on a mount called a Foursquare. A Nikon SU800 commander was used to control the strobes. The commander was outfitted with a Radio Popper Opposite: Sadie stands atop three horses as they perform a transmitter. The Radio Popper converts the jump. Above, Sadie stands tall in the saddle as younger sister Hattie stretches backward. Left, Sadie gears up for a ride.
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SU800’s infrared signal to a radio signal that is received by a Radio Popper receiver that is then connected to the four speedlights. Four speedlights are used to get maximum power when shooting in full sun. The use of speedlights as opposed to shooting outdoors with studio strobes allows for high-speed sync. The photo of Sadie jumping atop the three horses was shot at 1/2,500 of a second with full flash sync during the exposure. Normal flash sync would be 1/250 of a second. The high-speed sync ensures a totally crisp image, freezing every little clod of dirt in mid-air with no ghosting or blur of the action. For the portraits, we set up in a barn. The lighting in the barn was not great, so I lit the scene using three Profoto D1 Air 500 watt monolights. The main light was shot thru a 7 foot parabolic umbrella. Then I added a gridded spot to put a little light on the flag. And lastly, I added a snooted backlight to give the hair a little shine to offer separation against the background.
Opposite: Cowgirl Chicks founder Trish Lynn poses with horses. That was the last shot of the two days. Above, Trish in the barn. Top left, a behindthe-scenes look at the portrait set up. Assistant Zac adjusts the flag.
S S S S S SWEETWATER! Home of the World’s Largest Rattlesnake Roundup
Photos & Story by Kevin Brown Photos and article originally appeared in the April 2009 PixelChatter
SWEETWATER, TEXAS - The city limit sign along a lonely stretch of two-lane blacktop at the edge of town shows the population in Sweetwater to be 11,415. No word on whether or not that number includes the scaly residents that slither around on their bellies and pile up by the thousands in rocky dens or not, but it’s unlikely. No census taker in their right mind would go door-todoor, or rather den-to-den, to count. But more than a few folks might argue that not everyone in Sweetwater is in their right mind, unless of course those folks like rattlesnakes. While “life is sweeter in Sweetwater” for many, for the rattlesnake population, March spells trouble. And it has since 1958 when local ranchers and cattlemen decided it was time to join forces and do something to rid the red dirt landscape of the tongue-flicking critters that had plagued their livestock since the area, about 40 miles west of Abilene, was settled. This past March marked the 51st annual event hosted by the Sweetwater Jaycees that is billed as the “world’s largest rattlesnake round-up.” And 2009 was a record-breaking year in terms of attendance. Jaycee’s president Kevin Sager estimates the crowd at about 40,000. And there were a few snakes on hand, too. Officially, 5,199 pounds of rattlesnakes were brought in. That’s more than in 2008, but a little below average. Each year, teams of rattlesnake hunters scour the countryside prior to the actual round-up event looking for snakes. Hunters, who now must have a license to hunt, use various methods for searching for rattlesnakes, but one of the most common is to use a small handheld mirror to reflect sunlight up under rocks and other hiding areas to spot their prize. Some hiding spots may just have a snake or two and some dens have hundreds of snakes. Some hunters pump gasoline fumes into a den and then wait for the snakes to escape the fumes. As the rattlesnakes emerge
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from the den, hunters pick them up with large tongs or golf clubs modified with a hook on the end. Snakes are put in boxes, barrels or sacks and are ultimately transported to the round-up for weighin. Only live snakes are accepted. Hunters are paid $5 per pound up to 2,000 pounds, with the amount decreasing per pound for extra large hauls. The average snake weighs about three pounds. As the hunters anticipate the annual round-up, so-to do the non-hunters. Visitors from across the country and around the world - flock to Sweetwater for four days each March to soak up the sights much like a diamondback might soak up the sun on a west Texas afternoon. And there’s a lot to take in including a flea market, a carnival, and a gun, knife, and coin show. But inside the Nolan County Coliseum lies (er-uh, slithers) the main attraction: rattlesnakes. And specifically, these are western diamondback rattlesnakes. The infamous creature of many-awestern movie that plays on our fears with the simple rattle of its
tail and flick of its tongue is center stage. And for $7 ($5 for kids) visitors can face those fears and see this rock star of the snake world by the thousands. On the floor of the coliseum, amid myriad exhibitor booths hocking everything from snake heads in mason jars, to snake head key rings and snake skin belts, are several fenced-off areas where various snake demonstrations take place. These small octagonal arenas each have a four foot high solid wall perimeter where folks can come right up and rest their elbows and peer over to see the rattlers and their handlers. And don’t leave the kids at home. They can see all the action thru plexiglass windows scattered around the perimeter wall. There’s the rattlesnake milking area where members of the Sweetwater Jaycees carefully milk snakes to collect venom. One by one, each snake is milked by hooking the snake’s fangs over the edge of a glass funnel and applying pressure to the snake’s poison glands. The venom, which slightly resembles an orange sports drink, is released and collected into a bottle. The process only takes a few seconds per snake. For 2009, 1.75 liters of venom was collected. The venom is sold to a lab where it is used for research and to make antivenin/ anitvenom. Another small arena is dedicated to rattlesnake research. Over the course of the four-day event, hundreds of snakes are measured and weighed. The number of rattles are counted as well as the number of stripes on the “coon tail.” The coon tail is a black and white striped area just above the rattles and is one of the things that distinguishes a western diamondback from other rattlers. A quick test to determine the sex each snake also takes place. The data is recorded and shared with the Texas Department of Parks and Wildlife. An area not for the squeamish is where snakes are beheaded and skinned. A team of two beheads each snake. One man grabs a snake with a set of tongs about three to four inches behind the head and places it on a stump. With one swift motion, another man chops the head off with a machete. Snake heads are put in a bucket where they can be seen wiggling and biting for hours. Snake bodies are skinned by a team of rotating volunteers. It should be noted that no part of a snake, except for the organs, is wasted. (A group of Chinese is said to have bought organs in 2008). kevinbrownphoto.com
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Rattlesnake meat sells for about $20 per pound and the heads, skins and rattles are sold and used to create items of all kinds. But the big buzz in the coliseum is the main arena. And the buzz isn’t just from the excitement of the crowd, it’s from the rattlesnakes that call this area home. It’s also home to David Sager. A thirty-one year veteran of the rattlesnake round-up and a Lifetime member of the Jaycees, Sager conducts several shows per day to bleacher-filled standing-room only crowds of folks itching to get a glimpse of rattlesnakes in action. As he calmly walks around the arena, stepping inches from rattlesnakes coiled up and ticked off, Sager rattles off diamondback facts to a spellbound crowd. He’ll pick up a snake and let young and old touch its skin and feel its rattles. Occasionally, a snake in the pit will strike at him, but he never flinches, never blinks. He knows the tall boots he wears will protect him from these strikes, but the crowd oohs and ahhs. Cell phone cameras are at the ready as Sager taunts a rattlesnake with a balloon, much like a bullfighter waves a red cape at an angry bull. In a split-second, the snake strikes, the balloon pops, and the crowd jumps. Sager, and all of the Jaycees, promote safety at every opportunity. They tell tales of those who have been bitten and have suffered the pain from a rattlesnake bite as well as the pains from the doctor bills that can approach $40,000 or even $50,000. The four day event starts with a parade and the crowning of Miss Snake Charmer...and it culminates with the awarding of prizes for the biggest individual snake captured as well as the most pounds of snakes brought in by an individual team. The first place team led by Andy Lee brought in 1,378 pounds of snakes and the big snake for 2009 was 68 inches long and was brought in by veteran hunter Herbert Hoover. Hoover has participated in all 51 rattlesnake roundups. This was his second big snake award. “Snake hunting is a lot of fun,” he says with a smile. With an estimated 1,700 snakes brought in for the 2009 round-up, who’s to say what the population of Sweetwater is now. The sign says 11,415. But somewhere, deep in the rocky dens outside of town, a few thousand snakes lie patiently waiting. Waiting on that census taker to come a-knockin’. The Sweetwater Rattlesnake Roundup is held each year during the second weekend of March. Sweetwater is located about 225 miles west of Dallas. Slither on over and check it out.
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The Tale of the Two-Headed Calf A true horror story.
I
remember getting the call, “My mother died. Would you mind taking her picture?” I was still in high school at the time, but I mustered the courage to do the job. The pay was $25 as I recall, plus film and processing. Thankfully, I’ve never been asked to do anything like that since. I’ve photographed fatal car wrecks, and even a murder scene once. I covered the Delta 191 crash at DFW Airport. But there was one dead body that found its way in front of my lens in 1982 that I’ll never forget. I was 17 and on-staff as a photographer/writer for The Paris (TX) news. I was actually living in Hugo, Oklahoma at the time, just across the Red River from Paris. I did features around Hugo and also had regular assignments in Paris and surrounding communities. I worked at The Paris News when a big tornado hit the town killing eight people and making national news. But one summer day I heard a Murder scene in Paris, TX - 1982 rumor that a two-headed calf had been born and was being raised by a family out in the country not too far from Hugo. I did a little investigative work and located the family and asked if I could come and photograph the calf. They were excited by the idea. I called the Editor at The Paris News, David Sullens, and told him about my discovery, and asked if he would let me make the trek out to photograph this oddity of nature. I thought it would make a great little feature story. Reluctantly he agreed. I think he was only swayed by my enthusiasm. Early the next morning I loaded up my camera gear and, directions in-hand, struck out in quest of this animal and its caretakers. At this point I pretty much equated this assignment to photographing the elusive Bigfoot or maybe the Loch Ness Monster. After all, who else had ever photographed a two-headed calf...or even seen a photo of one. Keep in mind, this was 30 years ago. There was no Google. No internet. Scarcely was there cable TV. As
far as I was concerned this was going to be a real photographic scoop. I arrived at the location. It was a dilapidated single-wide mobile home out in the middle of nowhere. There were a few junk cars out in the front yard. A covered wooden porch ran the length of the mobile home and was piled high with, strangely enough, hundreds and hundreds of potatoes and empty Coors beer cans. I didn’t even have to knock on the door. I was met by the head of the family. I don’t recall the last name, but his first name was Huck. We talked on the porch a second and then I asked if he could take me to the barn or wherever his prized two-headed calf was. I could hardly wait to see this thing. Surprisingly, he said to come on inside, that the calf was in the living room. Okie dokie. I made my way inside and met Huck’s wife and their two little girls, probably ages 4 and 6. The interior was pretty stark. There was a simple dining table and chairs in the kitchen area. I looked towards the living room. The only furniture was three or four green vinyl bench seats. They looked oddly familiar, with their spindly chrome legs. Then it hit me; these had obviously been salvaged out of an old school bus. These folks are very poor, I thought. And there, in the middle of the living room floor, sprawled out on an oval braided country-style rug was my subject, a black and white calf. With two heads. I didn’t really know what to expect a two-headed calf to look like. I imagined two completely separate heads, maybe even two necks. As it turns out this calf was more like a single-headed calf that had two snouts. It had four eyes, with the left eye of one head right next to the right eye of the other head. Strange? Yes. It was quite a sight for sure. I’d never seen anything like this. I was eager to shoot photos, but I didn’t want to get ahead of myself so I pulled out my notepad and began interviewing Huck and his family, the calf on the floor at our feet. I asked all the questions one might ask a family that was taking care of a two-headed animal. (Okay, so I really had to wing it. (continued next page)
The Tale of the Two-Headed Calf A true horror story. Let’s face it, this wasn’t the typical interview about “everyday life on the farm.”) Huck told me that he had called Ringling Bros. Barnum & Bailey Circus and told them that he was the owner of a twoheaded calf. He thought it would make a great attraction for them to take on the road with them. His hope was that they could sell their prize for a nice little sum of much-needed money. As the interview moved along I asked how the calf ate. After all, it had two mouths. I wondered if perhaps the calf nursed from its mother or if 1982 maybe they bottle fed it. No, Huck said that they had to put a feeding tube down one mouth and into the calf’s stomach. I tried to imagine what this might look like exactly, so I thought this would be a good time to bring out the camera. As the family prepared to feed their calf, I pulled my Nikon FE and flash from my bag and was ready to capture a feeding session on film. Everything was moving along nicely at first. Feeding the calf was a group effort. They had a long piece of rubber surgical hose attached to a glass bottle of milk. Huck held the bottle upside down, IV style, so that the milk would flow down the tube, which was held in place by the wife and kids, and into the calf. A minute or two after the feeding started, the calf became very distressed. It began squirming around on the living room floor. The girls started crying. The wife was upset. They could not calm the calf. After a bit of thrashing around the calf became still. Then Huck realized what had happened. The feeding tube had gone into the calf’s lungs, not the stomach. They had drowned that calf right there on the living room floor. Huck panicked and picked up the calf by the hind legs and hoisted him up as high as he could. He was trying to ‘empty’ the milk out of the calf. He was shaking it about and up and down. I remember him struggling to lift the calf up. Milk was stringing out of one of the calf’s mouths and splattering on the rug in a nasty mess. His girls were hysterical at this point. The wife was beside herself.
I didn’t really know what to do, so as any good photojournalist would do, I just kept shooting photos. I knew this wasn’t going to end pretty. There was nothing pretty about any of this. What a horrific scene it was. Within about a minute or less, Huck gave out. He lowered the calf to the floor. It was dead. This calf had been alive two minutes ago and was the pride and joy of this family. It was their ticket to fame and a better life, or at least they had convinced themselves that it was. And now it was gone. No Ringling Bros. No big check. It was an awkward moment to say the least. They had more or less fed this animal as a photo-op for me. I’d only shot a few photos of this scene as it unfolded and perhaps Huck felt obligated to allow me more opportunity to shoot. He grabbed a small pillow and gently placed it under the calf’s head(s) and said, “well, I guess you can take all the pictures you want now. He ain’t gonna mind.” The photo above is the result. And so that’s how it went in the summer of ’82 when I went off to photograph a twoheaded calf. Needless to say, no photo made the paper. No story was written about it, until this one. I’ve shot other oddball stuff, but that assignment still takes the prize. Coincidentally, 25 years after this incident I was on assignment for Ripley’s Believe It or Not and had to photograph a stuffed twobodied, one-headed calf. I’ve always wondered what they paid for it. ~ Kevin Brown 2007
Am I blue? Despite appearances, this shot wasn’t made at a time of day you think it might have been. Turn the page to see what the environment looked like to the eye, and learn how this shot was made.
This is the scene as it appeared to the eye. The model, Paulina, poses at Mission San Jose, in San Antonio, in the open shade of a wall around the Mission during the middle of the afternoon. How was the shot on the previous page made? To achieve the blue tint of the overall image seen on the previous page, the camera’s white balance was set at a very cool color temperature of 2550 Kelvin. A softbox with speedlights (strobes) was placed behind the column at right to illuminate the wall behind Paulina. There were no blue gels used on the lighting. The softbox was simply used to light the background. The scene was underexposed in the camera by about a stop and a half or maybe two stops. Then, orange ‘warming gels’ were placed over the speedlights in the softbox that illuminated the model (top right of image above), to balance the skin tones back to the appropriate color temperature. The result is a striking, stylized image that added a bit of drama to an otherwise flatly lit environment.
Put your best face forward. Your headshot says a lot about you. Make sure it says the right thing. It may be the first impression that people have of you and you know the old saying, “you only have one chance at a first impression.” Don’t blow it. My headshot business is geared towards bringing the studio to you. I’ll set up a studio environment at your offices and can photograph you and your colleagues in a half-day or full-day session. So, regardless of the style you want to shoot, let me help. We’ll get you some great shots.
Email or call to book a session. kevin@kevinbrownphoto.com 817-454-6252
OFFSHOOTS
RAMBLINGS, RANTS, AND RAVES ABOUT STUFF, AND OTHER STUFF...
A
s a photographer it’s nice to see things turning green. Winter is behind us now and it won’t be long until we’re knee-deep in Bluebonnets. I’m ready. If the wind will settle down a bit and the temps will just hover in the mid-70s a while, all will be good. A little rain would be nice, too. Looking forward to getting out on the lake more this year. - 1.4 Anybody else have a Nike+ FuelBand? It’s essentially a watch (that looks sort of like a bracelet) that, in each 24 hour period, counts how many steps you take, makes an estimate of how many calories you burn, and awards you with NikeFuel (a number that goes higher with increased activity). Every day at midnight, the numbers all reset and the counting starts all over again.You can then look at your Nike+ FuelBand activity on a graph after syncing the FuelBand with your smart phone and look back on your activity history, right down to the hour. I’m not a fitness nerd, but I am a technogeek. I will say that the desire to drive my NikeFuel number higher does inspire me to get moving....and that’s the whole idea. You can also compare your activity with your friends who might also happen to sport
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a FuelBand to get a friendly little competition going. I bought one for my wife and myself a couple of weeks ago. Pretty cool and all-inall I like it, although there some features I’d love to see that it doesn’t have. GPS for one. And as long as we’re talking watches and the like, this reminds me of some of the rumors and speculation about what may be next on the horizon for the folks at Apple. Rumors started circulating a few weeks ago about an iWatch and whether this might be the next big thing that Apple will unveil. I hope it is. - 2.8 We interrupt this programming for a word from the National Association of Learn How to Shoot Video America: For all of you that shoot video from time to time with your iPhones, please turn that thing horizontally and shoot in a nice landscape format as opposed to a tall skinny screen. Until I decide to turn my computer monitor or my TV on it’s side and then tilt my head 90 degrees, I’m reasonably sure that the video will look a little better if you’ll simply rotate the phone. Thank you. We now return you to our regularly scheduled programming. - 3.5 Although I’m a veteran Fantasy Football player of about 16-17 years, I’ve never played Fantasy Baseball. Until this year.
Kevin Brown
Yes, I was recruited (coerced) by a couple of friends (term used loosely) who had two open positions in their league and so here I am, awaiting draft day and the beginning of my first Fantasy Baseball season (train wreck). I inherited a few keeper players (have never heard of any of them) from the person who used to manage (abandoned) my team, and my friends (opponents) that recruited me to play assure me those players are solid (wink-wink). All I have to do is show up on draft day with a small entry fee ($200) and I can assemble (throw together) a Fantasy roster that’s sure to be a winner (not). My team name is Life’s a Pitch. I’ll let you how it goes (crashes and burns) next issue. -4Random prize for reading all this nonsense: The first person to email me and tell me how many images appear in the ‘Motion’ gallery at my website will receive an iTunes gift card. Thanks for playing. - 5.6 The theme of this column, OffShoots, is intended to be ramblings about this and that and things that really don’t have anything to do with my photo shoots. Hence the name. However, I’m looking for inspiration for some personal projects and would welcome ideas from anyone that has any ideas they’d like to share. I’ve considered starting a 365 Project (where you shoot a photo-a-day and post
What’s On My Feed? them on a blog) but I just don’t know if I have the staying power for that. The thought of having to commit to something on 365 consecutive days looms over me more than making the bed every day. In other words, it ain’t happening. I realize personal projects should be self-inspired, but I’m looking for help from you folks. Shout with any ideas. And if there are things you’d like to see more of in PixelChatter, let me know. I’m at almost 2,000 subscribers, not counting those who might access PixelChatter thru my website, and I really enjoy feedback from readers. -8Random prize number two (assuming some of you bailed out after reading random award number one): The first person to email me and tell me how many different people appear in the images in the CEOs gallery at my website will receive an iTunes gift card. Sorry, no two-time winners; you can only win once. Good luck. - 11 I, for one, am waiting for the next big thing in social media. Facebook is (mostly) a meaningless time suck. It’s much like being hungry for something and going again and again to a refrigerator only to be repeatedly disappointed that the same ol’ stuff is there and none of it is what you’re hungry for. Sooner or later something will come along and knock the 900 pound gorilla from the top of the mountain. I hope it’s worth the wait. - 16 If you’ve read OffShoots before you know that I’m a fan of the movies. But I’m not a big fan of remakes. I’d almost always like to see a fresh story put on film. That said, and just for fun, here are some old movies that I wouldn’t mind seeing remade. The originals are great, but here goes: The Great Escape The Stranger (Edward G. Robinson, Orson Welles) Tora! Tora! Tora! The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance North by Northwest
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