Matthew Dillon stood about 6’6”. His
shoulders were impossibly broad, and his chin was chiseled from a mountain. He
cut a bad-ass, intimidating presence while talking straight, walking tall, and drinking
coffee black as night. He drew his pistol with speed and efficiency, and he
drew it with confidence pure.
Matt Dillon was a man’s man, and by that I
mean a man of integrity. A man of compassion. A man of principle. A man of
virtue. A man with an iron-clad set of ethics that he might have wavered from time
and again but never completely abandoned. He carried a gun, but he only drew it
to defend. He could have married Miss Kitty any time he wanted, but he didn’t because
he knew the pain a lawman’s life would cause her. Matt Dillon knew that
sometimes self-sacrifice is the only
choice.
Matt Dillon was a man of honesty. He didn’t
lie—not to friends, not to outlaws, not to himself. He didn’t quibble. He didn’t
make excuses. He didn’t placate the masses for his own favor. He didn’t hide
from controversy. He didn’t revise history. He didn’t deny the past. He didn’t
meander. He didn’t stray. He didn’t hem or haw. In no way was Matt Dillon full
of shit.
Matt Dillon was a man of honor. He lived by
his word. He used truth to filter muddy waters. He saw a phony a mile away, and
he didn’t hesitate to call him out. He was fair, but he was no pushover.
Add all his traits up and Matt Dillon was decent,
confident, and not to be trifled with.
We could use more people like Matt Dillon
right about now.
I spend a fair amount of my lunch hours watching
Matt Dillon police the mean, violent streets of Dodge City, Kansas, as a U.S.
Marshal. The streets he walked on “Gunsmoke” were rough ones, for sure.
Unapologetic murders rode into town without warning. The innocent routinely got
lead-forged holes blown into their bodies. Rapists roamed among the populace. Robbers
lurked around every street post. Swindlers. Cattle rustlers. Horse thieves. Card
cheats. Racists. Misogynists. Conmen. White-collar criminals. Blue-collar
criminals. Matt Dillon encountered them all with the same approach—steady,
fair, and true.
Damn, I admire the hell out of Matt Dillon.
Sometimes, after watching a “Gunsmoke”
episode, I’m left thinking, “What if Matt Dillon was alive today, walking down our
own city streets? How would we greet him?” More often than not, I conclude that
half the townsfolk would view him as a bleeding-heart, whore-loving, “Indian” sympathizer
who is ruining the country. The other half would see him as a gun-toting law
enforcement thug who shoots first and asks questions later.
I try to view Matt Dillon by not associating
him with any one mindset or ideology but instead as someone who wouldn’t give one
crap what any one group thought about him. He’d be too committed to remaining
on the path he’d chosen for himself. He wouldn’t and couldn’t be recruited. He’d
make up his own damn mind.
I tend to look at Matt Dillon as a sage. A guru.
A cowboy boot-wearing mystic who is always on point. Sure, he’s flawed, but he’s
flawed while living by his own moral code. He’s a samurai in a white cowboy
hat. A clear-eyed warrior with a heart pure. Someone who fights for those who can’t
fight for themselves. Someone who takes a stand and is willing to accept the fate
of doing so. Someone who won’t ask for permission to slap the piss out of the
mouth of some black-hat wearing punk who dares to touch a lady inappropriately,
who takes advantage of a child, who steps on the weak to get ahead.
I tend to look at Matt Dillon as someone who
isn’t worried about the damage that’s waiting on the other side of taking action.
He just sees that action needs to be taken and takes it. Matt Dillon doesn’t
suffer fools because he is no fool. He lives the way he believes.
Damn, I admire Matt Dillon.
Many lunch hours while watching “Gunsmoke,” it’s
painfully clear that many of the issues Matt Dillon and the people of Dodge
dealt with are the same ones people still deal with today, and in many
respects, it doesn’t seem like we’ve made much progress. Persecution for religious
beliefs. Gender inequity. Sexual assault. Racism. Poverty and the shame that goes
with it. Addiction. Mental illness. Illiteracy. Gun violence.
The majority of time, I admire how Matt
Dillon deals with the issues when they confront him. His tact and bravery and conscience
consistently leave me feeling inadequate in comparison—but inspired. Further, I’m
often left admiring the perseverance that’s demonstrated. The continued pursuit
of happiness under less than ideal circumstances. The fortitude.
I really do admire Matt Dillon.
The problem is that Matt Dillon isn’t real.
He’s fictional. An idea born in someone’s mind. He doesn’t really exist. He’s a
creation—a wonderfully ethical, strong, courageous creation, but still just
that. 59 minutes after appearing on my TV screen, he’s gone. Poof. And I find
myself missing him until the next day when he comes back to visit.
Importantly, though, he has a real, lasting impression.
The influence is real. The notions implied are real. Call me idealistic, naïve,
or even desperate, but I believe in Matt Dillon, or at least the idea of a Matt
Dillon-like existence. I believe in the possibilities he hints at. In the justice
and rightful execution of such. I believe in personal strength. I believe in
embracing confrontation when required. In living by a code. I believe in the
idea that compassion is the most powerful weapon of all.
If Matt Dillon was indeed real and alive today,
I have a hard time picturing him in front of a keyboard pissing and moaning via
half-baked, crowd-catering Facebook posts about the state of his country. He’d
do something constructive to better his community. Not seek approval from
others he already knows are going to pat him on the shoulder not matter what he
says.
I have a hard time picturing him picking fights.
Laying out unrealistic hypotheticals or shading the truth to paint a pretty
picture that’s nowhere close to ever having existed.
I have a hard time picturing him revising
history for his own benefit.
I have a hard time picturing him lobbing threats
he’s not prepared to make face-to-face.
I have a hard time imagining he’d see merit
in lies, bully tactics, and threats to quit at the first sign of conflict or criticism.
I have a hard time imagining he’d see merit
in repeatedly stepping outside the rules and not taking full responsibility for
it.
I sure in the hell have a hard time
picturing Matt Dillion blindly following along and taking up positions without
doing his own due diligence. I have a hard time picturing him dealing in
insults and putdowns. In buying into stereotypes. In seeing the world in shades
of black and white.
Real or not, he’d better than that. We can
and should be, too.
