What lessons have you learned from movies or tv?

Jericho

COUNTRYSIDE: The weekly tv series "Jericho" was a real thought provoking show. A series of nuclear bombs were set off in the United States, and it showed how the people in the town of Jericho, Kansas reacted. It showed the struggles the people faced in the aftermath of the explosions. This show has caused me to think of how our household would manage in the same type of situation. What can I do to prepare my family for any type of disaster, power outages, terrorist attacks, loss of jobs or even illnesses?

Even though the series is finished for the season, it is available through NetFlix.--April, Hersey, Michigan 

The Rifleman

COUNTRYSIDE: Like millions of American children, I grew up watching "The Rifleman," the story of a widower rancher and his son setting up a new home in 1880s New Mexico Territory. Each week's episode would spin out as a little morality play, with the challenges to Lucas McCain finding a child's corollary in his young son, Mark's own adventures, as father and son ranched and went in and out of the little town of North Fork, then wrapped it all up in a heart-to-heart talk. For more than a few of us spread over tv land, "Home Ranch" really was home. There is no doubt in my mind that the show provided the first seeds of my life-long passion for simple country living. As a child of the burbs, I learned that, like Lucas and Mark, you could start over, if you had the right tools, and the right tools were not so much what you could bring with you out to the ranch in a buckboard, but what you carried in your own heart, what comprised the threads of your moral fiber. It taught principles.

Lucas and Mark chopped plenty of wood, had warm talks by the fireside, cooked on a woodstove, took care of horses and livestock, put up fencing, repaired the pump, lit the kerosene lamp, studied hard, and milked their cows the next morning even after a long hard night of unexpected adventure. Mark raised a pig for market and made calculations for his egg business. Being only small ranchers, before the days of the mega-spreads like Bonanza and Big Valley, father and son drew up budgets--and stuck to them! They built, and as often repaired, their own house and barn. They helped their neighbors, not counting the cost. But behind all these everyday scenes of a fairly accurate portrayal of rural life was something more vital, the real tools of the trade, as it were.

From Lucas and Mark and their neighbors, I learned what no one hoping to make a go of it on the land can do without: principles such as the value of honest sweat, loving kindness, fortitude, a sense of purpose, thrift, and large measures of courage. I learned what it means to stand up tall even when others have more and still say, "I'm satisfied." I have not always practiced these principles as well as I'd like, but when I have faltered out here in the boonies, I have returned in my mind's eye to North Fork or to the tapes, and had the McCains inspire me anew.

Skills can be learned from books or by cussed trial and error, but these other foundational "tools" can only be passed on from a principled teacher to a willing heart. In episode after episode, Lucas opened our hearts through his talks with Mark. He was our Pa, and his principles of living on the land, practical and enduring.

I recall one episode in particular, in which a land speculator attempted to squeeze him off his ranch. Even Mark wanted to sell out, but Lucas held firm, at great personal cost. His wisdom reminded Mark of the way you must see what you've worked for--"the hill, the valley, the herd" "every rock, every blade of grass" as your own, through the eyes of your heart--as not just a word, but "a thing we live" a special word we call "home."

That one lesson is why I came out here, why I am out here, and why I hope to remain out here until I breathe my last. It has been interwoven with every part of simple rural living I've tried, failing or succeeding. And it still instructs me. As "Pa" said, "One thing we'll always have is the land." I return, again and again to a little place called North Fork, for all I ever really need to live on and fully appreciate that land, to be truly in possession of it, and, like Lucas and Mark McCain, be in possession of my own better self.--Dorothee Skeehan

The Egg and I

COUNTRYSIDE: My favorite farm movie was the adaptation of Betty MacDonald's "The Egg and I." Her after WWII-back-to-something-simple movement--experience was in setting up an egg farm on a scale more like today's backyard and local markets, over the monster operations commercial egg houses have become today. The chicken parts of the movie still ring true, especially for the new flock raiser.

The culture shock of living with new neighbors took over the cultural aspects of the movie, as country ways clashing with new City Slickers erupted with a series of Ma and Pa Kettle movies, and the original "Egg" got lost. I liked the characters more in the book, as they ring just as true these days. In the book, the Kettle's did have knowledge of certain country living ways that were helpful even to the City Slickers, even if their lives were not those that the City Slicker would choose.

It echoes today, when a neighbor pokes a face over the fence and asks "What's that you're using there?" By the next rime you get to the feed store, you are known as the guy with the first round baler or blue piece of equipment in "green" country, or someone who has an animal species no one knows. A lot of your conversations over the next few months start out with someone coming up to you and saying "So, how's that blue thing workin' out for you? By the way, I'm Fred and I live to the north of you in that red house." You meet a lot of folks after you've been different in public, even if it is in the "privacy" of your own field. Just because you haven't talked to them doesn't mean they haven't talked about you!

Of course, on this cycle of farm to city to farm of my journey, the country folks are more at a disadvantage now because of the lack of party lines. When my parents did their "Egg and I" journey after WWII, making a phone call was an art in keeping private details to one's self.--Mike Reid, Sheridan, Oregon 

All Creatures Great and Small 

COUNTRYSIDE: While I was in college, I used to watch a program on television called "All Creatures Great and Small" based on the memoirs of a British veterinarian. British television is much more graphic than American television, so they show actual calvings, lambings and farrowings. I was a "city girl"--well really suburban--going to a state land grant college for agriculture, so seeing such made it easier on me in class and animal jobs where many of the others came from farm backgrounds. I was more confident than they were.

Even today, 30 years since gradating and unfortunately currently not on a farm (sniffle, sniffle, boo-hoo!), I watch the re-runs to keep fresh in my mind what to do in animal midwifery situations, incase I get the opportunity to go back on a farm.--Theresa Todd, Salisbury, Maryland

Old Yeller

COUNTRYSIDE: I cannot remember how young I was the first rime I saw "Old Yeller," but I remember that I cried as much or more than little Arliss. Through the years, I have watched this film several rimes with my family and with students that I have taught. First produced in 1957 by Walt Disney, the film is based on a book by Fred Gibson. The rime is post Civil War in Texas. The Coates family is struggling to survive, barely keeping food on the table. There isn't much about life to enjoy for the two young brothers until an old yellow dog comes into their lives. Immediately, the boys find love, adventure, and pleasure as they teach their new friend a few tricks while roaming the countryside with Old Yeller. There is a tense moment when the rightful owner appears to claim his dog. Fortunately, the man is tenderhearted and makes a trade "of sorts" for the dog.

What I learned from watching this movie is the seriousness of rabies. I was always bringing home orphan animals as I was growing up. My parents tried their best to explain the dangerous possibility of rabies in wild animals. After watching this movie, I finally understood what the danger was all about as well as the signs and symptoms of rabies. I learned that a suspect animal must be contained by itself for several days until symptoms are manifested or the absence of signs is revealed. This knowledge has proved invaluable to me on several occasions. In the beautiful north Georgia mountains where I live, the wildlife literally roams in my front yard. My love for animals has always precluded good judgment. Now, I have learned to enjoy the raccoons, opossums, rabbits, and deer from a distance. There have been eight reported cases of rabies in and around my county this year. Rabies is alive and thriving in the animal kingdom and makes appearances in city limits and rural areas.

I suppose every adult knows by now that Old Yeller contracted rabies by defending his owners against a gray wolf. I learned that no amount of love or wishful thinking can make something painful go away. There are some things in life that must be dealt with however much it hurts. Even so, by venturing out and living life to the full, precious memories are gained to sustain us in rimes of letting go. My husband and I loved the movie so much, we almost named our son Arliss. We decided against doing so because the name is associated with sadness.--Barbara Stanley, Georgia

Jurassic Park

COUNTRYSIDE: When my four children were young, we didn't have much discretionary money lying around. I was a single mom, attempting to create a homestead on my one-acre lot, in what was then a mostly paper subdivision. We lived in a dilapidated trailer, while I used my less-than-stellar carpentry skills to create outbuildings, fences, a garden, and barn.

The kids felt deprived and were not shy about telling me so. They thought homemade goat cheese with garlic and herbs, whole grains, homegrown vegetables, and pork or lamb chops were poor people's food, and the rich folks who lived in town were the lucky ones who got to eat Top Ramen, Hamburger Helper and boxed macaroni cheese. I paid the bills with minimum wage jobs, a very modest amount of support provided by the children's father, and whatever came to hand, even welfare at times. I became a master of making do, doing without, and improvising.

For our livestock, I was able to obtain free grazing leases on about 18 acres adjoining our land. I obtained the names and addresses of the properties' absentee owners from the county tax records, and wrote some letters. The owners were glad to have me graze my goats and sheep and the kids' ponies on their parcels, thereby reducing the fuel load of grass and weeds that constituted a tire hazard during California's long dry season.

To contain the stock I used jerry-rigged electric fencing, which naturally required ongoing monitoring and maintenance. There were a couple of times when we had to stop what we were doing and go collect animals that had escaped because a fallen branch or a deer had downed the electric fence.

We didn't have a tv. The kids had their chores to keep them busy, and learned to entertain themselves with books. Going to the movies was a rare treat indeed. But when I knew a movie was coming that the kids might enjoy, I made a special effort to scrape up money for a matinee, and maybe for popcorn, too.

After what seemed like months of hype, "Jurassic Park" came to the local theater. Some of our friends had seen it and spread the word that it was very scary, but did not want to spoil it, so they did not tell us the details of the plot. The kids could hardly contain themselves when I announced one Saturday morning that we were actually going to see "Jurassic Park" that very afternoon. This was especially exciting for Jay and Johnny, who were in middle school and were crazy about dinosaurs. Even Clara and Vinny, who were in high school, were enthusiastic.

We got there plenty early, so that everybody had their popcorn, gummy bears, and a soft drink, which was an even more exotic treat than a movie. We got good seats and settled in to watch all the loud, chaotic previews, and finally, at long last, the main feature.

As the drama began to unfold, I thought I detected some nudging and snickering from the seats near me. In the flashes of lightning coming from the screen, I could see smirks and broad smiles on the faces of my kids. It hadn't taken them long to figure out the plot line. Keeping huge, carnivorous dinosaurs in an electric fence? Any kid in the audience whose buttermilk breakfast pancakes had gotten cold while he rounded up escaped sheep didn't need to watch the rest of the film to guess the nemesis.

When the movie was over and we were blinking in the bright sunlight outside the theater, I said, "Well, kids, how did you like it?"

"They should have called it 'Cretaceous Park,'" said Johnny, who had done his homework. "Tyrannosaurus Rex, Velociraptor, Styracosaurus, Triceratops, Microceratus, and most of the other dinosaurs in the movie lived during the Cretaceous period."

"'Jurassic' sounds better, dummy," said Jay, giving him a shove.

Now full of sugar and soda pop, punching, poking and giggling, the kids piled into the car, and homeward we went, back to the real life drama of the barnyard.

What we learned: Michael Crichton, author of the novel that the movie was based on, and his screenwriter, David Koepp, were probably not farm boys. If either of them had ever chased livestock escaped from an electric fence, they would have realized what a lame plot device it was.--Anonymous via e-mail