Subconsciously Seeking a Maverick

by Catherine Lee... You remember Maverick, right? Two brothers, Bret and Bart, handsome, roving gamblers wearing fancy, vested suits, instead of grungy cowboy clothes.

I realized that Bart Maverick ruined my whole adult love life from binge-watching Maverick TV westerns recently. I was crazy about Bart when I was a pre-teen back in 1958. Oldest of four girls, I didn’t have brothers and Daddy always working. TV was the only place I learned how boys act when they like you.

You remember Maverick, right? Two brothers, Bret and Bart, handsome, roving gamblers wearing fancy, vested suits, instead of grungy cowboy clothes. I liked Bart better and craved that one deep kiss he’d suddenly plant on a lady friend when he first got sweet on her.

The rest of Bart’s conduct in a couple was harder to see, though. On ‘50s TV, only dancehall girl flirtations hinted at sensuality. A couple might snuggle once in a while, fully dressed. Besides that was only that close-up, intense kiss. Any woman would fall instantly for the kisser, fall hard.

Every so often, Bart might offer a few deeper embraces, indicating commitment. But that gal would always be killed off by a bad guy.

If a woman chose Bart, though, that was a no-no. I identified with a teenage girl in one episode who kept chasing him. Bart humored her, but he thought another woman — who turned out to be married — was more his type. When the girl exposed her rival’s plot to protect her guilty husband by framing Bart for murder, the grateful gambler did reward her with the buggy ride and picnic she kept pestering him about. But no big kiss. A hug, then he left town, maybe to return someday when she was older.

I’m sure I’ve been subconsciously seeking Maverick all these years. How else to explain? I always choose self-sufficient, distant men. I pined away for several jazz musicians on the road. It’s true, trumpet players are great kissers. Sax players too. One proposed marriage if — no, not if, when I lost 50 pounds.

And you know how Maverick would sleep out on the trail sometimes? For two years, I slept on the floor, to have a psychic connection with a roving mushroom expert I thought was my soul mate.

I also up and moved to Texas from Boston. Nobody from back East could fathom that move. I wanted to change my lifestyle in a completely different ecosystem, get married.

So here I am, relocated to the state where Mavericks actually live, both cattle and people. I’ve had two more episodes with losers: one short-lived marriage to a guy who believed what’s mine is mine and what’s yours is ours. The other live-in boyfriend invited a different sweety to move in the summer he was housesitting while I was visiting out-of-state.

Were there any positives? I suppose I learned to be tolerant of narcissists and infinitely patient. But, damn, I can barely remember the last time I had one of those life-changing, deep kisses.

Maybe that’s why I started taking acting classes… To start acting.

🩷🩷🩷

Catherine Lee, a neo-Beat, writes using a percussive jazz voice. All her writing engages in social change activism. Widely-published as a creative writer and producer, Lee collaborates with media artists to create educational multimedia. Lee began working with theater folks in 2014, and is an active member of Seniors In Play, a reader’s theater group based in San Antonio, TX. Lee secured city arts funding twice to write dramas. She completed a poetic drama, “Mentor Wonders” in late 2022. Lee is currently finishing “Maverick Secrets: Decoding Early TV Westerns,” an expansion of this “Quickie” theme. Examples at VIMEO and Soundcloud.