This movie was released forty years ago.
Forty.
In that time, children have become fathers. Fathers have become grandpas. And grandpas have gone to their graves.
And yet between fathers and sons -- and white-haired pastors and dark-haired parishioners -- we cannot seem to stop having the same, fierce argument.
Over and over again.
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It's big; we got it. It's a tree.
See? It's clever code.
Jah save us from clever.
I hate clever.
We are BETTER now, than we were before. All of us.
But, sad to say with THIS species, It Ain't Over Till It's Over.
N that's a long, long lotta miles to haul that baggage for us all, still.
But that baggage has been hauled a long way to here.
That clip-whew. IGBOBLAB.
Progress? DAMN YES!
More miles to haul? Oh FUCK yeah.
Miles past our times, for sure.
Just keep on hauling.
It's what we are SUPPOSED TO DO, as Sydney tells his dad.
N there's no cryin in baseball, either. Suck it up, Drifty. We Fight. You know that.