davy crockett. i was sitting indian style right in the middle of my mother's gray carpet in the living room, my parents behind me, and all the sudden as if like a run away train, crockett came crashes out of that 12 inch screen tv of our 1950 tv model rca victor set. as they say, i was a goner. with only moments after this larger than life crockett appeared wearing buck buckskin and that coon skin hat, i had been won over, and my fickle 9-year-old heart pounded. i must tell you, that was an incredible year. that past summer, just months before, on two separate occasions down at famous and barr, at the mother's store, now long defunked department retail store in st. louis, my mother brought me down to meet some people there on that big parking lot, and there i was, ten o'clock op a saturday morning, and i look up, and it's william boyd, it's hop-a-long cassidy standing there with topper, that fine horse of him. i thought it was top drawer, that hoppy. hi always kept that hat on, never lost it in a fight. i liked him very much. it's a one-two punch, and then i go next saturday and there's the cisco kid s