¢ÝAmazing grace¢Ý
Once upon a time, our country was founded upon...
Faith.
Faith in all its forms.
But during the late nineteen-sixties, people...
Began looking heavenward... For new answers to old questions.
And we have lift off of Apollo thirteen.
The bravest among us... Journeyed into the unknown.
While the rest of us stood by with our support.
Our goodwill. And of course...
Damn!
Our taxes.
Already?
For my father, April was the cruelest month...
I bust my hump all year for this?
It wasn't that Dad didn't have faith in Uncle Sam.
He belive the taxes
Here ya are, honey.
It was just the part about paying them he resented.
So, from the moment the ol' ten-forty's arrived in the mail, life around the Arnold house...
Shifted into kind of a state of emergency.
Here, Daddy. Have a seat.
We all knew the drill.
And each of us...Had an assignment.
Apollo thirteen astronauts report smooth sailing on day one of their mission to the moon.
Kevin, turn down the damn TV!
My assignment was to turn down the damn TV.
Wayne's assignment was to be...
Well...
Invisible.
After that, it was all kind of up to Mom.
I'll put these in the file with the other forms.
See, even though Dad filled out the forms and...Signed the checks...
It was Mom who kept the receipts, organized the paperwork...
Stockpiled the bi-carb...
And generally...
Anyone for dinner?
Kept Dad from eating us alive.
I bust my hump all year for this?
Still, for all his grumbling, on some level...
Dad knew taxes were inevitable.
Death.
I think you'll find this very interesting.
Miss Stebbins was teaching us creative writing.
And we were learning that creative writing wasn't a book report...
Or "how I spent my summer vacation".
Creating writing was...
The end of your life.
What will they say about you in the newspaper?
Yes. Harold.
Which newspaper?
Any newspaper you like.
What did you do?
What did you accomplish?
What's the point of this?
Good question, Kevin!
We became engaged in Captain Ahab's obsessive quest...
We cried when Jane... And Rochester finally got married...
Why?
Yes, Harold?
Cuz they were dead?
Because...you cared about the characters.
Now, how do we write a character?
We start...
With the one we got to know about first.
Ourselves. Who are you..who were you...and where are you headed?
Faced with such profound... And disturbing questions...
One thought sprang immediately to our minds.
Yes, Susan.
How long does it have to be?
Oh...About a page.
One page?
One...page?!
Paul - it's not that bad.
How do you cram a full and productive lifetime into one page?
Kevin, don't you realize how deep this is?
Paul...aren't you taking this a little too seriously?
Heck - this wasn't brain surgery. We were just writing our obituaries, here.
So many decisions to make, here!
Fr'instance...do I go into business with my dad, or marry Marsha Brady?
Or both!
Kev?
I don't want to die.
My best friend had...What you might call...a malleable mind.
Me? I wasn't worried.
What was the big deal?
It was just a page - one lousy...little...page.
Thirty three lines.
Two hundred and ninety words.
If ya wrote big.
What's that?
Oh! Nothing.
Which was true.
I'd been staring at that page for an hour-and-a-half without coming up with a single word.
Some kind of writer's block, I guess.
An obituary? Oh, lemme see...maybe I can help.
Wayne...
Let's see...
"Kevin Arnold."
"Born a butthead."
"Lived a butthead's life."
"Died..."
"A butthead!" Did ya get any of that down?
Wayne! Stop teasing Kevin.
Your father's trying to watch the news.
Mom was serious. Every year...
The night before he paid his taxes, my father had a ritual...Of watching the news.
We figured it made him feel better... To know that others were suffering.
And he listen have keep has mind off.
Astronaut John Swigert today joked he'd forgotten to file his Federal income tax returns.
Manned-spacecraft Center officials assured him...he'd get an extension.
Oh, abandon couch.
Bi-carb, Jack?
Too late - the beast was stirring.
Did you get those receipts together yet, Norma?
Don't worry honey. Everything...is under control.
That was Mom. Always the picture of calm.
Saturday we'll fill out the forms - get it over with.
Norma?
Right.
I'll get your bi-carb.
What's wrong with her?
Hard to tell. I guess Mom had problems of her own.
Meanwhile, I had a deadline.
And I do mean "deadline".
Dad...
Have you ever thought about your life?
Huh?
Uh, well...it's for school.
I mean, if you had to write about it, what would you say?
OK. Time for a meaningful father-son exchange here.
A thoughtful summing up.
I get up at five in the morning. I fight traffic.
I bust my hump all day...I fight traffic again.
Then I come home.
Then I pay my taxes.
The End.
In a way, it kinda made ya feel ya knew the guy.
My only consolation was I was pretty sure no one else was gonna do this assignment, either.
The world mourns the loss of a great poet, Susan Kelley,
whose work made her lots and lots of money.
The minute he got out of high school,
he joined the service, to fight...for his country!
After he won the Grand Prix...there was series of empty relationships.
When he spoke...
People listened!
She brutally murdered her little sister and was cleared of all charges.
Chapter seven, age thirty-six.
"The Harvest Ripens".
Poised on the very cusp of young adulthood...
I venture forth from the secure hallways of academia...
And into the cut-throat world of opthamology.
Before the age of forty, I invent the strapless sport spectacle.
Ah...thank you very much, Paul.
But we have to have time for everyone.
Now! Who's next?
Kevin?
How about you?
He was born of humble parentage, and grew up living a simple life.
He served several years in the Virginia legislature...
Then went on to become...President of the United States.
There! Short-and-sweet.
Honest.
To the point.
That was very nice, Kevin...
That was also George Washington's life.
Rats!
Now, I suggest...you get a life of your own, and write about it.
It didn't seem fair.
When you're thirteen years old... The last thing you want to have to worry about...
Is your life.
That's what you have parents for.
Sure...
Let her worry.
Only let's not overdo it, here.
Mom?
Is everything alright?
I'm sorry, Kevin. What were you saying?
Something was wrong.
Mom could usually talk on the phone...
Cook dinner, yell at Wayne and help you with your homework...
All without missing a beat.
Mom?
How could I be so stupid?
The whole point of taking them to make copies was so we wouldn't...Lose the receipts.
You lost the tax receipts?
They're just...
Gone.
This was unbelievable! My mother?
The most organized woman in the world?
Oh, don't worry, honey!
They're bound to turn up...
You really think so?
I wanted to believe her. I did.
Something about the way she was staring at that TV.
Gave me the distinct impression that...well...to put it mildly...
We interrupt this broadcast for a CBS News special report.
Uh, Houston, this is Apollo thirteen...we've had a problem here...
OK, Houston, we've had a problem, here.
This is a CBS News Special Report.
Trouble has developed aboard Apollo 13.
Trouble serious enough, to jeopardize the continuation of the mission.
So much for emergencies in space.
It was just a grocery bag full of receipts.
We had a few of our own right here at home.
No?
....Oh, dear...
Well, thank you, anyway.
Tax day at ground zero. Situation...Grim.
Mom had tuned the house upside down looking for those tax receipts.
With no luck.
Norma?
Time to get started...
Gee, what was he gonna do - hack those W-2's to death?
Thought I'd sharpen these clippers out in the garage.
Oh...That's a good idea.
Sure, good idea. Distract him with tools.
Then after dinner...we'll go to work on those taxes.
- Honey? - Hmmm?
I was just thinking...why waste a perfectly good Saturday night on paperwork?
Why don't we...go out to a movie?
It's been ages since we all went out together.
Come on, Dad - I think it'll be fun.
Maybe tomorrow.
We're doin' taxes tonight.
It made ya wonder.
Do moms...Ever actually sweat?
Are you OK, Mom?
Oh...
I think I'll take a shower.
Well - that answered that.
Those poor astronauts.
Their families must be worried sick.
Well, somebody's family, anyway.
Still, maybe I was blowin' this all out of proportion.
I mean, what's the worst that could happen?
He's gonna kill her.
Dad?
I was just wondering...
What happens if you don't pay your taxes?
What are ya talkin' about?
Well, say you...Forgot.
Or, you couldn't, for some reason. What would happen then?
There. A reasonable question.
You go to jail.
And a reasonable answer.
Oh...
Unless, of course, you have a legitimate excuse.
OK - that might apply here.
What if...say, uh...like...you...
Lose...your, your receipts...And stuff?
What?
Through, uh, somehow by a...freak accident.
Oh, my gosh.
He knew.
Now I get it.
You know what, Kev? You worry too much.
I do?
Your mom would never lose those receipts.
She guards them with her life.
Uh-huh. That's exactly what I was afraid of.
It was becoming pretty clear... Mine wasn't the only obituary that needed writing.
Norma?
Time to get to work. Put it off long enough.
What, honey?
You got all the forms together?
You got the state...and federal...my W-2's...the receipts?
Of course.
I'll get cleaned up, and we'll start.
Uh, Jack?
Well, the moment of truth had come.
Mom was gonna have to come clean.
She was gonna have to...
I have an...errand to run in town.
I'll be back in a bit.
Run for her life.
It was kinda like watching Custer turn tail at Little Big Horn.
I-I gotta go.
Can I have a ride?
And I alone...Was left to tell the tale.
Well...Maybe I'll get started without her.
Well, that was that.
In a matter of hours, my family was going to explode.
And there was nothing I could do about it.
Except, of course...
Head for the hills, myself.
I wasn't sure whre I was going.
All I knew was - I couldn't go home.
I guess Mom was feeling that way, too.
It was strange. I'd never seen her in church before.
Except for weddings...
And funerals.
But there she was.
Lighting a candle for those stupid tax receipts.
I wanted to help her.
To make everything right. But I knew I couldn't.
All I could do was hope that, somehow, she'd find an answer here.
Mom?
Yes, honey?
Do you think your prayers will be answered?
One way or another.
We drove for quite a while.
I guess neither of us were in a hurry to get home.
The emergency rules out any chance of a lunar landing...
Faced with the inevitable... Mom seemed so calm. And brave.
Norma?!
Norma? Where the hell are those receipts?
Mission control has given no official word on what will be done, but has declared...
The second rocket engine will be used in aborting the mission, and getting the astronauts safely back to earth.
And now, the world holds its breath as the brave astronauts of...,
Apollo 13 prepare to swing around the dark side of...
The Moon, in their disabled spacecraft.
I stood in the yard for a long time.
Looking at moon and thinking. About Mom and Dad, and the receipts...
About those astronauts.
About how things in a life can get lost...
without any certainty of ever finding them again.
I said a little prayer for all of us.
I was prepared for the worst.
Tears. Rage. A family in shambles.
Or...
That's when we went to Omaha. You remember the plane fare?
A hundred and fifty bucks.
I couldn't believe it. I'd never seen them quite so close.
Like they didn't have a care in the world.
But watching them, together...
Loving each other...recreating the past year from memory, I felt...a bond.
A promise that things would work out.
So where'd ya go today?
First I went by the post office to see if anyone had turned in the receipts...
Ah...
And then I stopped by a church.
Said a prayer for the astronauts.
Unh...
And suddenly, a lot of things made sense.
So how many days were you in that hotel in Omaha?
Three days...
Three days. What, at about...?
Thirty bucks a day...
As I looked at that blank page, I knew that whatever I wrote would be a lie
or at best, a wild guess. It didn't matter.
Whatever life lay ahead of me -
a life of hope, of possibility, of uncertainty -
I felt sure I knew what it would take to survive.
I guess what I'm saying is...for the first time,
I understood that some things are bigger than death and taxes.
Like family.
Like faith.
I could only hope Miss Stebbins would understand, too.
Mom?
Hmmm?
Do you think the astronauts will get home?
I don't know, Kevin.
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