Friday, March 29, 2013

...and you can't plow a field by turning it over in your mind


The age old debate regarding the right blend of talk vs. action has always fascinated me. I suspect much of that interest comes from my father, who as a quiet veteran of WWII, abhorred people that talked a good game but genuinely admired those that just put their heads down and got things done. I suspect too that part of my fascination comes from being immersed for years in an over confident culture where we’d probably have saved the world had we’d actually accomplished even 5% of all we boastfully talk about. It reminds me of a line at the end of a David Brooks article I read awhile back that went something like…

It’s funny how the nation’s mood was at its most humble when its actual achievements were at their most extraordinary.

I was reminded of this talk vs. doing phenomenon in a rather simple way this past Saturday when I got up early, made a pot of coffee and flipped on the television to chill a bit before my weekly Saturday run (I wish talking or writing about the run had as much benefit as doing it). On one of the cable channels, they were running reruns of the old black and white show The Rifleman.” The classic American western starring Chuck Connors as widower rancher Lucas McCain and Jonny Crawford as his young son Mark was a staple when I was a kid, and though it’s rare anymore these days, it’s nostalgic to catch an old episode or two once-in-awhile to remind me of the simple but still relevant values I too often abandon today. The 30-minute episodes of the ABC program which aired from somewhere around 1958 to 1963 were set in the 1880s in the New Mexico Territory town of North Fork.

 

The dramatic climax of this particular episode took place in an abandon mine shaft, were the younger McCain (Mark) and a neighboring ranch boy Billy had uncharacteristically decided to skip class rather than face the continuing condescending taunts of a new high-browed teacher (Mr. Griswald…played by Arnold Moss) who had just arrived from the east to teach in the modest one-room country schoolhouse. The new schoolmaster is unimpressed with the plainspoken culture of the ranching territory, and routinely admonishes his students for their lack of academic and cultural polish. Griswald harshly criticizes the younger McCain after his father Lucas inadvertently drops his Winchester firearm near the school house while picking Mark up one day after school. The disgusted teacher also attributes Mark’s inability to get his homework completed to his father Lucas’s “preference for evening conversation over academic work.”  Rather than face continued punishment (Griswald had taken a switch to an innocent Mark…wrongly punishing the boy for allegedly defacing a textbook) and scorn from the dictatorial Griswald, the boys decide to play hooky and hide in nearby mine.

As often happens in Hollywood, the truant boys no sooner enter the otherwise stable abandon shaft when the timbers start to creak and ultimately give way. A part of the mine’s ceiling caves in,  seemingly covering Mark in a cloud of dust and rubble. The other boy Billy panics and runs out of the shaft, only to run into the elder McCain and the frightened teacher, who after being shammed by McCain earlier in the day, had joined forces with Lucas to go looking for the missing boys.

Upon entering the hazardous mine, the senior McCain and the terrified teacher don’t get far before realizing they are separated from the partially buried boy by a wall of fallen debris. Griswald stalls and starts to theorize about possible options, when McCain abruptly cuts him off and sternly shouts “we don’t have time for that now…just start digging.” As the supporting timbers above Mark continue to ominously weaken, McCain and the obviously out-of-place Griswald quickly begin clearing a path in a frantic attempt to reach Mark.

When seeing his rescuing father, the relived and bloodied Mark assures him he is OK… but notes that his leg appears pinned beneath an old mining car. As the supporting beams above bow and splinter signaling imminent doom, the teacher remains motionless and again beings to talk about possible moves while McCain jumps into action and tries to manually lift the small mining car. It doesn’t budge, so McCain frantically searches for and finds a piece of wood to help pry up the car. However after trying valiantly, his son remains hopelessly pinned. Then McCain screams “we need a rock for more leverage,” to which learned Griswald replies “ah yes…a fulcrum.”

Griswald quickly grabs a rock and frantically hands it to Lucas to place under the wooden lever, the teacher explains theory of fulcrums and opines on the appropriate placement of the rock to achieve the optimum leverage. As the supporting ceiling timbers begin to spilt and give way, McCain who is already desperately leaning on the wood turns to the pontificating Griswald and violently shouts something like, “Griswald…enough with the talk…just shut up and pull him out when I lift the car!”

Lucas puts all is weight onto the makeshift fulcrum, and Griswald tugs on McCain’s boy who is finally freed. They make a beeline from the collapsing area, just as the mine’s roof gives way in Hollywood avalanche of rock and timber that would have surely killed them all had they procrastinated and spent any more time talking.

 
 

The great thing about many of the old TV shows of my youth is that they always had a lesson. This particular episode had a few, but clearly the most vivid point was there is a time for deliberation, and a time for action. It reminds me of the old Andrew Jackson quote “Take time to deliberate; but when the time for action arrives, stop thinking and go in.”

Another cool thing about this show is that it was pretty balanced…and it didn’t attempt to make the case for action only. As the episode winds down, Lucas, Mark, Billy and Griswald are nestled at the mouth of the cave reviewing the day’s harrowing events when Lucas notes they’d better head back to the ranch. Mark laments the late hour, and stresses it will be “awfully dark to ride back now.” “No” contradicts Griswald, “tonight is the first night of a full moon…and we will have more than ample light to get us home safely.” “See Mark” says a smiling Lucas…”I told you all that learnin’ would come in handy.” As Andrew Jackson wisely noted, the marriage of deliberation and action can be a good thing.

Have a wonderful weekend and if you can, don’t just talk about it…actually do some things with the people and pets that matter the most to you.

 
If I'd had paid better attention in school, I'd be a better writer. Sorry for all the pour grammar, misspellings and lousy writing.

No comments:

Post a Comment