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Neptune’s moon, Triton, orbits the planet in reverse.
Triton is gradually getting closer to the planet it orbits.
WELCOME TO PAGE 579 - ROLLING, ROLLING, ROLLING, RAWHIDE !!!
Swinging saloon doors were real — not a Hollywood invention
Speaking of whiskey: it was God-awful.
Forget dysentery — but don’t drink the water.
The leading cause of death for folks in the Old West was not dysentery, snake bites, shootouts with rival gunslingers, or attacks by Native Americans. Nope. It was cholera. Cholera is caused by waterborne bacteria that thrives in stagnant bodies of water, like ponds, puddles, and slow-moving creeks.
Pioneers in the Old West didn’t have fancy water filtering straws that today’s hard-core hikers have, so when they got thirsty, they drank water from the closest available source.
The Old West had an opioid problem.
Think opioid abuse is a modern issue? Think again.
Chinese laborers who came to California during the Gold Rush and to seek jobs building the Transcontinental Railroad brought their opium smoking with them.
For the first time, opium — which had long been an ingredient in medicine — was used as a recreational drug. The Chinese immigrants passed the opium pipe to the Americans they worked with, and starting around 1870, opium use boomed in the Old West.
It wasn’t just gamblers and prostitutes that enjoyed the opium pipe either. It was average farmers and ranchers — and their wives. Here’s a twist. Many of the estimated 250,000 opium addicts in the late 1890s vocally supported the temperance movement.
Alcohol, they declared, was so evil and destructive it should be banned, but opium, well, there’s nothing to see here.
The West was ripe with price-gouging.
When gold was discovered in California, it set off a massive migration of people who headed to the West hoping to get rich quick.
They soon realized that the only ones who were really getting rich during the Gold Rush were the price-gouging merchants who took advantage of the situation — and the lack of government oversight.
The cost of items sold at the Gold Rush camps were mind-bogglingly high and makes our current inflation problem seem trivial. A dozen eggs, for example, cost about $3 in 1851 — comparable to a dozen eggs today — but when you adjust the 1851 price to today’s equivalent, that carton of eggs would be $105.
Merchants also charged $20 for a pound of butter — more than $700 today. That is one expensive ass breakfast.
Breakfast on the trail was grueling work.
Speaking of: breakfast on the road meant something entirely different for westward pioneers than for people today. It certainly wasn’t Starbucks and a bagel.
Traveling in a wagon train required waking up at about 4 o’clock in the morning to prepare breakfast, break camp, saddle up the horses, and round up the cattle. Coffee and bacon were staples.
The womenfolk (insert eye roll about gender roles here) stirred up the fire so they could roast green coffee beans in a skillet. The roasted beans were put through a coffee grinder then brewed with water over the open fire. And I complain that my Keurig takes too long.
Slabs of bacon were tossed in the skillet and fried up. On a good day, you might also get some cornmeal gruel. Bacon wasn’t just morning candy: it was such a mainstay, pioneers ate it two or three times a day. Well-smoked and cured bacon could, in theory, last the whole journey. I’m skeptical.
Frontier folks embraced poop-powered cooking.
Know what the Great Plains didn’t have? Trees.
Know what the Great Plains had a lot of? Buffalo poop.
Since trees are a rarity in the prairies of the Great Plains, folks had to get creative with ways to fuel their camp fires, so they turned to dried buffalo dung. Seriously.
As gross and unsanitary as that seems, it got the job done. When burned, the “meadow pies,” as they were called, produced a quick, hot, and — shockingly — odorless fire, perfect for cooking that bacon.
The “prairie chips” (another catchy euphemism) were plentiful and easy to pick up. The secret was to look for ones that had dried out in the hot sun, and not the juicy, steamy fresh one.
The Army declared war on buffalo.
The United States Army declared war on buffalo in the 1830s. They commissioned people to go west and slaughter as many buffalo as they could and encouraged settlers in the West to do the same.
What did the buffalo do to bring the wrath of Uncle Sam down on them? Nothing, except for being a delicious major food source for Native Americans.
White Americans, in a total jerk move, wanted to oust the Native Americans from their ancestral homes and take the land for themselves. Since the Native Americans weren’t exactly on board with this plan, the government decided to go after their most valuable resource – buffalo.
It’s been estimated that there were between 10 and 30 million buffalo in the early 1800s. By 1889, only 256 buffalo remained, and they were in captivity.
The West had strict gun control laws.
Hollywood movies would have us think that folks in the Old West ran around with their guns half-cocked, ready to bite the bullet and jump in lock, stock, and barrel with guns a-blazing whenever they dodged a bullet (okay, that’s enough of the gun phrases).
The reality is that most Old West towns had super strict gun laws, even notorious boom towns like Deadwood, Dodge City and Tombstone. It was illegal to carry a gun within the city limits of these towns and others.
Anyone coming into town was required to stop at the sheriff’s office and check in their guns before settling in. It was the Old West version of a coat check, except America doesn’t have a coat control problem.
Requirements for sheriffs were pretty loose.
In the Old West, as it is today, sheriff was an elected position — and not a particularly appealing one.
The pay was paltry, if there was one at all. Sometimes a sheriff only received a percentage of the fines he imposed on people, or taxes collected from locals. Does anyone else think a system like this is just inviting corruption?
Each state or territory had their own requirements for sheriff, and none of them had anything to do with experience, education, or background checks. Most places only required that a man be 21 years old or older and a U.S. citizen.
And no one really checked on that last part.
Some states had no requirements at all. Take Texas, for example. The 1876 Texas Constitution only noted that sheriffs were to serve two-year terms. Nothing at all was mentioned about age, citizenship, gender, race, or previous criminal record.
That’s how Moses Burton, an African American, was elected sheriff of Fort Bend County in 1869, a year before the 15th Amendment granted African Americans the right to vote. Burton was the country’s first black sheriff.
“Five hundred. Must be a peach of a hand.”
Doc Holliday’s opening lines set the tone for his character in the movie: strangely confident and whimsical despite his sickly appearance due to tuberculosis. It’s a fitting opening scene for Doc, who sits across from Ed Bailey, a larger, more able-looking gambler. A sprawling pot lies spread on the table between them.
“Isn’t that a daisy?”
This is the first of several times Holliday utters an iconic line involving “daisy” or “daisies” and again sets the tone for what’s to come. You don’t need to know the exact meaning of the phrase to know what it’s meant to do to Ed Bailey, who falls hook, line and sinker for Doc’s southern slang.
“I calculate that’s the end of this town.”
The real Doc Holliday sometimes wore out his welcome in small frontier towns, and moved across the West with stops in towns in Texas, Colorado, New Mexico and Arizona. After the fictional fight with Ed Bailey, Doc Holliday and Big Nose Kate know the drill: grab the pot and get out while the goin’s good.#
“Wyatt, I am rolling.”
It’s no coincidence that Doc and Wyatt first meet up in Tombstone when Wyatt is in potential (though unlikely) danger, this time from disgruntled gambler Johnny Tyler. Doc’s entrance in Tombstone isn’t the last well-timed arrival to help his friend Wyatt, slyly foreshadowing what’s to come.
tombstone doc holliday quote
“In vino veritas.”
One of Holliday’s best lines is uttered almost as an afterthought, a candid retort to Wyatt’s keeping of the peace. It also reveals Ringo’s own knowledge of Latin, and Doc knows the Cowboy’s more like himself than he imagined, though he’s still not alarmed by Ringo’s bravado.
doc holliday quotes
“I have two guns, one for each of ya.”
Doc Holliday once again hits the streets of Tombstone just in time to help Wyatt, who’s fending off a potential mob led by brothers Ike and Billy Clanton. The underestimation of Holliday continues with Billy, who doesn’t think the gunslinger’s in any shape to fight.
WRONG AGAIN BILLY CLANTON.
Fred White’s death at the hands of Curly Bill Brocius also marks the turning point of the movie, where things for the Earp brothers go from hey, this is uncomfortable but still manageable to damn, we really need to do something about the Cowboys.
“I’ve not yet begun to defile myself.”
Despite being on a two-day bender, Doc Holliday believes himself to be in gambling shape, and who’s to say otherwise? Wyatt offers a half-hearted attempt to send him home, but to no avail.
When Ike accuses Doc of cheating, the game falls apart, Virgil Earp restrains Ike and Doc collapses in the saloon, the first time we see the true extent of Holliday’s physical condition.
“That is a hell of a thing for you to say to me.”
Pale, sweating and barely able to stand, Doc Holliday rambles his way to Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan as they plan what to do with the Cowboys near the O.K. Corral. When Wyatt tries to talk Doc out of fighting, Doc’s damn near offended.
“You’re a daisy if you do.”
The Earps’ and Holliday’s infamous march through Tombstone to the lot near the O.K. Corral ends with a tense standoff between the lawmen and the Cowboys, leading to the infamous but short-lived shootout.
When Frank McLaury appears to have the jump on Holliday, the dentist spreads his arms wide for a clear shot, but McLaury can’t get one off before Doc and Morgan both bury a slug in him.
When the dust settles, Billy Clanton, and Tom and Frank McLaury lie dead.
“I’m your huckleberry.”
Doc Holliday’s famous quote is also one of his least understood, and viewers have argued over the line’s meaning for, well, nearly 30 years. There are a few theories floating around – that the term really is “huckle bearer,” or pallbearer – but Val Kilmer’s aptly titled memoir and his answers in interviews makes it clear that “huckleberry” was the intended term.
Here’s the real meaning of “I’m your huckleberry,” though you really don’t need to know the specifics to understand what Doc’s telling Ringo. Like many of Holliday’s best lines, the technical meaning isn’t as powerful as the message behind it.
Make no mistake. It’s not revenge he’s after. It’s a reckoning.”
The Earp Vendetta Ride was more than just seeking vengeance for the attack on Virgil, and Morgan’s death: it was an epic quest for justice. It represented the battle between good and evil on the biggest stage, and though the members of the Vendetta Ride were technically wanted men for their vigilante actions, they believed themselves to be on the right side of the moral law.
“Why, Johnny Ringo, you look like somebody just walked over your grave.”
When Wyatt leaves bed-ridden Doc to go duel Johnny Ringo, Holliday asks, “what’s it like to wear one of those?” pointing to Wyatt’s marshal’s badge. And when Holliday shows up to duel Ringo in Wyatt’s stead, we see the reason behind his clever question: to make the killing legal.
Holliday’s appearance is surprising both to Ringo, who knows he’s in for trouble, and later to Wyatt, who didn’t know the dentist wasn’t “quite as sick” as he appeared to be.
“It appears my hypocrisy knows no bounds.”
The story of Doc Holliday is the story of contradictions, paradox and – as he’s aware – hypocrisy. It’s a heartrending final scene between Doc and Wyatt, and the culmination of their often flawed but unforgettable relationship on the frontier.
“There’s no normal life, Wyatt. There’s just life. Now get on with it.”
As the two men come to terms with the way their lives have played out, Doc encourages Wyatt to go after what he wants.
“I already got a guilty conscience. Might as well have the money too.”
It doesn’t take long for U.S. Marshal Crawley Dake to approach Wyatt about his plans in Arizona, and Wyatt’s focus on business ventures over peacekeeping is clear from the get-go. This line alludes to Wyatt’s previous law experience in Dodge City, and he’s ready to move on.
“We’ll make our fortune, boys.”
The Earp brothers – Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan – and their wives, including Mattie Earp, all group together at the train station, building the themes of family and loyalty that lie at the heart of the Tombstone story.
“Go ahead, skin it! Skin that smoke wagon and see what happens.”
Wyatt’s first challenge in Tombstone is lowly gambler Johnny Tyler, and he dispatches him with the trademark confidence that made Wyatt effective in Dodge City. “Smoke that skin wagon” is also something everyone should yell at least once in public.