There I was laying on the golden shag carpeting in our living room, circa 1975 , watching the ABC movie of the week (it was, I now know, a rerun). I was glued to the little 17” set with the hand turn knob that went “chunk” when you changed channels by getting up and walking over to the TV and touching it and turning the knob.
On the set was a terrified guy in a fat tie driving for his life in a square car through dusty California Sierra canyons while being chased by a psychotic trucker. In the end the driver wins somehow, but I don‘t remember how. The craziest part was that the trucker was never seen, not even after he died. All you got to see was his quick moving feet changing gears and smashing down on the gas and then back to Dennis Weaver (that was the scared guy, I now know) and his mustache swerving around. It was so dope.
So I am driving back from Redmond to Bend today and the sun is out in the rain, which is always beautiful to me and I am sandwiched between crazed truckers and I am swerving and trying to run them off the road, and its all steering wheel clutch time and madness. And then I turn off at my exit for a latte, narrowly escaping with my life to write this for you tonight.
So (again, “so”?, I know, but it has to be this way) I am writing this up and I think I wonder if I can find out the name of that awesome thriller from way back when I was 11 and staying up til 10. In about 3 seconds I find out that I had the right network, because not only do I find it, but I learn that Duel is the best-known ABC movie of the week of all time. That must be fate or someone‘s will or have meaning right? That is what we humans think when something unexpected happens, that it had to be, that it‘s important, that I should pay special attention. Or maybe I was a kid at the right time who finished doing the dishes on a Wednesday and caught a rerun of the most famous Movie of the Week of all time (!).