Welcome home, Steven

Welcome home, Steven.

We would have missed you, but you never gave us the chance. Your films are like parts of our families.

Actually, I like some of your movies better than I like some of my relatives. I mean, I don’t know anybody as cool as Indiana Jones. I had a boss once that I think of every so often when I watch “Jaws.” And doesn’t everyone want a role model-uncle like Lincoln?

Clearly, there’s only one Steven with credits like that: The Valley’s own Steven Spielberg. Oh, you didn’t know he was a Phoenix kid, the pride of Arcadia High?

Well, actually he was born in Cincinnati, Ohio, but the family traveled a bit before settling down for a few years in Scottsdale.

Even as a kid and young teen he made movies – really good movies – but while he remembers those days fondly, he also remembers the bullying of the little Jewish kid.

When he appears with composer John Williams this Saturday night with the Phoenix Symphony, wouldn’t it be great if some of those tormentors showed up at Symphony Hall wearing signs that read, “I’m sorry, Steven!”?

The rest of us are just happy to say, “Welcome home, Steven Spielberg.”

I’m Pat McMahon.

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