Sometimes a Great Notion

He's been

over there a while.

Do you think

he's doing any good?

I got payments to make

on a Chevrolet.

God damn scabs over there.

Is that Floyd?

What's he running for?

Get your buggin' ass

out of here,

you buggin' socialist!

They're after him!

All of 'em.

What are they up to?

You union creep, get lost!

Whoa!

I'll blow your belly

right out of your dang head!

Hey, wait a minute,

Floyd--

None of you live bets

gonna tell me what he loves.

What are they--

They're trying

to kill him!

Sands!

What about that, Floyd?

Pansy socialists!

God damn traitors!

I'll get every last

one of ya! Whoo!

Hang in there!

Floyd, come on!

Easy, Floyd. Easy.

God damn,

strike-breaking bastards.

I got you, Floyd.

I got you, Floyd.

It'll be OK.

My God...

They could've killed me.

Did they get you?

Are you hurt?

You all right?

You lousy gypo

scabber bastards!

We'll get you!

We're gonna

pull you down.

Look!

...with the dynamite...

Boom! I though you put

it right in the boat!

God damn union freaks.

Teach you to go

snoopin' around.

And then someone

over there is yelling,

"Look out!"

How's he gonna look out,

if the boat's going

all over the damn river?

He's screaming

and yelling,

"What's happening to me?

What's happening to me? "

What'd I tell you?

The holy signals

are hanging over us

right now, Hank.

I mean,

everything's going

to be milk and honey.

We're in God's own

fat pocket.

Brother Walker

told us that.

He told us.

Yeah.

And he don't hand out

any crap

Iike some of them

other preachers do.

God damn, some people

would rather talk than eat.

Ah, it's washing out

down here, Joe.

Give me a hand, will ya?

Hank, Joe B.!

You boys planning on a stag

party here tonight?

We got women inside.

This ain't no party,

bub.

This here is

Mr. Jonathan Draeger.

Pleasure to meet you both.

He's the whole works,

bub. He's the president.

Not just Oregon.

The whole damn

freakin' union.

Yeah, I think

I know that, Floyd.

Boy, you sure picked

one hell of a night

for a moonlight cruise.

Yeah, it is that.

I was working over

in Portland today.

And I thought

I might stop by

and chat for a few

minutes before we left.

OK. Go ahead.

Well, is it asking

too much of an old buddy

if we get in

out of the rain?

Come on.

No sense in tracking

all of this water

into the house, Floyd.

We can talk out here.

Henry,

it's Jonathan Draeger.

How are you?

How you do, sir?

Viv, bring out

a couple of six-packs

of cold ones, will ya?

Oh, boy.

This weather up here

really plays hell

with my athlete's foot.

Seems like any time

I come up to Oregon,

it just crawls right up

to my privates.

Yeah. Well, I hope the

trip will be worth it.

Could we cut the fun and games

and get to the point?

Well, you got to think

I'm kind of arrogant

to barge in here

to plug up the holes, Hank.

Is it all right

if I call you Hank?

What do you think, Henry?

It's OK by me.

He's the boss.

Well, I was just wondering

if maybe you can hold on

to everything you've got now

and then sell it all later on.

Sell it

to somebody else maybe.

Sure.

Sure. We'll tell

the O'Connel Company

to go screw themselves.

I guess that gives us

the privilege

of selling our logs

to somebody else.

I get you.

Well then?

Well then what?

Can't do that, Floyd.

By God,

you've got to do it.

Look, we got a contract,

Mr. Draeger.

How do you handle that?

I mean, that's our word.

Shouldn't have

gave your word.

No, thanks. Listen, I know.

We've got nothing against

you independents.

We're not out to put

the family operations

out of business.

Thanks.

That clears that up.

I mean, they're

your friends and neighbors.

Don't you think

you owe 'em something?

That depends

on what they'd owe us

if they were

on the other end.

Oh, come on now. You know

what I'm talking about.

See, I don't think

I do know

what you're talking about.

You come on pretty folksy

with that athlete's foot

and those first names

and everything.

Why don't we cut through that

crap and get straight on it?

That suits me fine.

But what am I going to tell you?

You got a town full of people

here who are hurting.

Now somebody is going

to have to give up something

somewhere along the line.

Don't you agree?

Henry, you answer that.

Well, now,

it just so happens, see,

we get ourselves up

at 4:
30 every morning,

go out and chop wood.

It's every morning

but Sunday for sure.

And Saturday maybe.

We've been doing that

for a hell of a lot of

years with no stink.

So when you or Floyd here

or General Motors

or some Commie-pinko

or my hound dog tells us

we're not going to get

up at 4:
30, I tell you--

you haven't got a whisper

of a bare-ass clue what the hell

this family's all about.

Not a whisper.

Nothing.

Well, that's just about

as clear a statement

of 1 9th-century philosophy

as I've ever heard.

Fine. Give us a look

at the 20th.

Your slots and compartments

you stash people away in.

You gonna tell us

when to stop cutting

and when to start cutting.

and who to sell to,

and pat our little bottoms

and tell us

what good little boys we are.

Well, not yet, bub.

Not yet you don't.

I'm only asking you to hang onto

the logs you already have.

Let me tell you something.

Might gladden your heart

and dry up your

athlete's foot overnight.

We might not make that deadline.

We got three weeks of the worst

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