I first saw Clint Eastwood on the Big Screen in 1966. He was 36 at the time, and I was 11. Me and a buddy went to see “The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly.” I had watched clean-shaven Clint in Rawhide on black-and-white TV, but in “The Good…” flick, Eastwood with his stubble and quick gun, hat hanging low, was as cool as Sean Connery’s 007 (also making the theater rounds in those days); only one was driving an Aston Martin while the other was riding a horse. Up until then, though, the mid-1960s, there hadn’t been any Western ...