My friend, Anil, told me I had to see the Nebraska movie. I bought it today. Black and white. Could have been my brother and my dad. They had a trip like this the year before he died. Dad wanted to see something. There was no lottery involved. Just Dad wanting to go somewhere and my brother, Ron, taking him. It was a cross country trip like such trips could be with Dad. I travelled with him. Not a lot of words. He was military too, like this father. Didn’t waste words. Didn’t waste anything really. They’d seen a lot of waste in the war and had a lot of want in the depression.
The movie told the story of people. Farming people. Bruce Dern was great. But they all were. Acting parts we all grew up with. Anyone whose known farming people, that’s what they’re like. My friend, Anil’s farming folk are from half a globe away. I don’t think it matters. The small towns and the womenfolk. The minimalism of it all. And the big sky. God the sky was big when I was growing up on the prairies. The distances were immense. The spaces between people could be like that too. Especially when people had known war.
And history changes. The different memories. The lies and fantasies and the way the mind plays tricks. Old people. It was a movie of old people but young people too. Different now. Not the young people back then. Back then it was just about chasing somen and cars. Now it’s still cars but other stuff.
I loved the movie. Like I’ve grown to love my relatives and family as I’ve grown older. I really thank the folk who made Nebraska. They got a whole lot right about what I remember from my childhood. The last days with Dad were like this. The scene with the brothers all in the living room watching tv. I’ve been a kid in that room with Dad and his brothers. The women in the kitchen chattering away, a real contrast to the silences of the men.
I expect it will win the Oscars. Otherwise a hat and some love would do. All a man really needs is family, a place to call home and a new truck.
Watching this movie I missed my dad and mom, my farming grandparents and the uncles and their wives. I’m big city folk now compared to the last time I visited the farm. All the old folk are dead and us young folk are called old by another generation.
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