When U2 pilot Gary Powers was shot down by the Ruskies I was 9. For long afterwards I was convinced that he should have taken his “cyanide pill.” After all, as I just wrote, “My grandfather was shot in a war and he didn’t cry.” It was Power’s duty to kill himself.
Such are the thoughts of innocent youth.
Claudia and I took in Spielberg’s Bridge of Spies last Thursday not expecting much. It did have something like a 93% approval on Rotten Tomatoes which was promising but other than knowing it was about the prisoner exchange bringing Powers back I didn’t know much more about the movie. It was so good that Claudia even said she didn’t wonder what time it was through the whole production. High praise from Claudia.
Don’t read the link at Wikipedia in the first sentence if you plan to see it. There are too many spoilers for those of you who don’t know your Cold War history and would like to get the movie fresh.
I long ago dropped my disapproval of Captain Powers but a week ago I saw shades of my earnest youthful conviction in my Grandson. He had just learned the National Anthem in Kindergarten along with the history of the bombardment of Ft. McHenry. After he sang the song to us flawlessly he told us he hated the British.
