As a big fan of old westerns and film noir, the black and white detective thrillers of the thirties, forties and fifties, it’s always amazed me how somebody gets shot with a bullet like a .45 caliber. The wounded guy sucks it up and asks: “is it bad, Joe?” Joe looks at it, sticks a rag on it and says: “Nah, it’s only a flesh wound.” And, together, they get the bad guy. Another case in point was when Magnum P.I. was shot with the equivalent of an elephant gun in the last scene before the finale. This bullets created caverns rivaling Carlsbad. But ol’ MAGNUM is playing Beach Volleyball and has NO scar tissue at the wound site during the finale. It’s a miracle worthy of endless repetition at Lourdes.
