We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
The sons and I went yesterday to the Gene Autry Museum Of The American West, in north Griffith Park in Los Angeles. I'd heard good things but in all my decades in Southern California hadn't been there. If you are looking for a truly wonderful experience, go. There are costumes and homages to all the Western film cowboys from the silents to recent, including many Black ones in films you probably never heard of. The museum has the complete Colt company collection of firearms from the 1800's forward, including those specially made for US Presidents. And much more.
There was one room showing clips from Gene Autry films. One clip only showed the song below, without the intro or follow-up. The jaws dropped among some of the women in the room, while the men (if they could get away with it) smiled.