Green Acres (1965–1971): Season 2, Episode 13 - An Old-Fashioned Christmas - full transcript

♪ Green acres
is the place to be ♪

♪ farm livin'
is the life for me ♪

♪ land spreadin' out
so far and wide ♪

♪ keep Manhattan,
just give me
that countryside ♪

♪ New York is
where I'd rather stay ♪

♪ I get allergic
smelling hay ♪

♪ I just adore
a penthouse view ♪

♪ darling, I love you,
but give me park Avenue ♪

♪ the chores ♪

♪ the stores ♪

♪ fresh air ♪



♪ Times Square ♪

♪ you are my wife ♪

♪ goodbye, city life ♪

♪ green acres,
we are there ♪

Here you are.
Get your Christmas trees.

Christmas--

hey, hey, pooch.

Get outta here.

Christmas trees!

It ain't Christmas
without a tree.

Hello, Harry.
How are you?

Been expectin'
you folks.

What'll it be?

A painted pine,
sprayed spruce,



or how about
a freshly flocked fir?

No, I don't--

I like the
frocked fir.

Flocked.

Yes, but I like it.
Uh, that one, how much is it?

$42.

Forty...

Come on, Lisa.

Oh, come on, Oliver.
We have to have
a Christmas tree.

That's not
a Christmas tree.

Christmas trees
are green.

Oh, you want
a green one?

Hold it. I don't want it
sprayed green.

I mean natural green.

Natural green?

Yes, that's the way
they grow.

You're puttin' me on.

What color do you think
they were before
you sprayed them?

I don't know. This is the way
they send them to me.

Lisa.

Wait a second.

Is this
what you mean?

Yes.

So that's what it is.

I couldn't figure it out.

I thought it was
a lousy spray job.

That's a real tree.

Well, what do you know?

How much
is that one?

Well, since Mr. Douglas
is a real tree lover,

$28.

Well, forget it.
I'm not paying $28
for a spindly--

what's wrong
with the frocked one?

Flocked.

Yes, but what's
wrong with it?

Well, I'll tell you.

Yeah, tell us.

You don't use a phonied-up
tree for Christmas,

you use a real one.

Well, what difference
does it make?

Lisa, which would
you rather have,

an artificial diamond ring
or a real diamond?

A real one.

There you are.

Is that what you're going
to give me for Christmas?

No, i--

a diamond ring.
What a present.

I didn't say I was
giving her a diamond.

Well, what are you
going to give me?

Lisa, I was just trying
to make a comparison that
you'd understand

between an artificial diamond
and an artificial tree.

I understand.

Well, good.

How big is
the diamond?

Lisa, I am not
giving you--

how about $39
for the frocked tree?

Flocked.

We don't want it.

These trees are
a travesty on Christmas.

Do you realize
that all over the country,

farmers are going out
into their own fields,
chopping down their own trees,

carrying them back
to their own farmhouses,

while in the kitchen,
the wives are
baking the fruitcakes,

mulling cider,

stringing their own popcorn.

These people are having a real
old-fashioned Christmas.

He's been hitting the eggnog
a little early, isn't he?

Harry, let me
tell you something.

One of these christmases,
I'm not gonna show up here,

and you're gonna wonder why.

And it'll be because
I'm on my own farm,

chopping down
my own Christmas tree.

Here's our
Christmas tree, Lisa.

It's very pretty.

Pretty?

It's beautiful.

And wait till
you see it decorated.

Do we have to come
out here to look at it?

Oh, no, no.
I'm gonna cut it down.

Well, won't that hurt it?

How else are we
gonna get a tree?

I could go back to New York
to Harry and get one.

Harry.

I guess
he thought I was kidding

when I said that one
of these christmases,
I'd have my own farm,

and cut down
my own Christmas tree.

So did I.

Ah, Lisa.

This is gonna be the best
Christmas we've ever had.

It doesn't feel
like Christmas.

The radio said
it was 81 degrees.

Yeah, yeah, I know.

It's snowing in New York.

Look--

they're skiing
on park Avenue.

Listen, we've got a lot to do.
I gotta get my axe,

gotta cut down the tree,
carry it into the house.
Then we'll decorate it.

This is going to be the best,
most wonderful Christmas, huh?

You're very happy here,
aren't you, darling?

Happiest I've ever been.

Then I ought to get
a pretty good present.

♪ Jingle bells, jingle bells
jingle all the ♪

Howdy, Mr. Douglas.

How are you,
Mr. Haney?

I just fine.

I brought over the, uh,
present you ordered
from me for eb.

I didn't order
anything from you.

You will
when you see it.

What does this
look like to you?

A necktie.

To the untrained eye, yes.

But to the untrained ear,
that's something else, again.

♪[Music playing]

What is that?

The world's first
transistorized necktie.

It's the atwater Kent
of cravats.

Oh, for...

If anybody says
your tie's too loud,

you can just tune it down.

♪[Music plays softly]

That's the silliest thing
I ever heard of.

If you wanna
change the station:

(Radio announcer)
Now for the weather.
The current temperature

outside beaully's car wash
in downtown pixley

is 81 degrees.

The temperature in Chicago
is minus 2 degrees.

In schenectady,
it's one above zero,

and in New York City,
rescue operations
are underway

for 3 skiers who are lost on
58th street and park Avenue.

Turn that thing off.

In the country, people are--

if you don't like this,

it also comes
in a 4-transistor bow tie,

that resonates
through the Adam's apple,

and you use your mouth
as a loudspeaker.

I'm not interested.

Well, I've been selling
an awful lot of them.

Did you lose somethin'?

Yes, my axe.

Oh, if you need
some firewood--

no, no, I wanna cut down
a Christmas tree.

You're puttin' me on.

No, I'm not.

Doggone, you sure
go out of your way

to make folks
think you're addled.

What do you mean?

Mr. Douglas,
nobody around here
would anymore think

of chopping down
their own Christmas tree

than they would of
baking their own fruitcake.

Well, that's
their business.

I want an
old-fashioned Christmas.

Maybe the heat's got you.
You heard my tie.

It's 81 degrees.

Mr. Haney...

Did you know any
of them fellas

that got lost
on the park Avenue?

No.

Ah, there you are.

There.

Now, will you
excuse me?

Mr. Douglas, you got
the tree picked out?

Yes. It's a beauty. I found it
over by the south fence.
It's 6 feet high.

And you're gonna
chop it down?

That's what I said.

You ought to have
a wonderful Christmas.

Well, I hope so.

Yeah, on Christmas,
the warden always treats
the prisoners real nice.

What is that?

That's where you'll
be spending Christmas.

Unless you wanna pay
the $1,000 fine.

What are you
talking about?

The state forest
conservation law

that prohibits
chopping down trees.

Mr. Haney,

that tree is mine.
It's on my land.

If I wanna chop it down,
I'm gonna chop it down.

Mr. Douglas, you know,
you ought to buy one
of these transistorized ties.

It'd be a lot of company
for you in solitary.

I don't believe
there is such a law.

Well, ask anybody.
Ask Sam drucker.

I'll do just that.

(Radio announcer)
You're listening to a recital
of Christmas music,

coming to you directly
from the east wing of
the new county jailhouse.

Ain't that timely?

[Knocking at door]

Who is there?

(Eb)
It's eb!

Oh, well, you can come in.
It isn't your present.

Mrs. Douglas,
Mr. Douglas said--

would you put
your finger here, please?

Mr. Douglas said to tell you
he had to go into drucker's.

Boy, was he mad.

Why?

Mr. Haney told him
he couldn't cut down
his own Christmas tree

because of
some law or somethin'.

Oh. Well, that'll do it.

Yeah, it sure threw him
into a swivet.

I've never seen him so mad.

His face was red,
his ears were red,

his lips were red.

He looked like a stuck
traffic signal.

Why would he want
to chop it down, anyway?

Well, Mr. Douglas wants
an old-fashioned Christmas,

with a home-made
Christmas tree,

home-made popcorns--

oh! Do you remember
where my cooksbook is?

No. Mr. Douglas hid it.

Well, why would he
do that for?

I'd rather not say.

Oh, that reason again.

How can I make
an old-fashioned fruitscake
if I don't have a cooksbook?

Maybe Mrs. Ziffel
could help you.

Yes, she may.

Wait,
what about my finger?

Give it a yank.

♪[Music playing]

Now you turned on
Mr. Douglas' necktie.

Well, i--

now, we've got to unwrap
the whole thing.

You just take
the branches

and you stick them in
like this. See?

Mmm.

Well, I don't know, Sam.

Mr. Drucker.
Oh, hello, Mr. Ziffel.

Ah, Mr. Douglas,

what do you like better,
this kind of tree,
or the old-fashioned kind?

Oh, the old-fashioned.

Fred, I told you I don't carry
those aluminum trees anymore.

Aluminum?

Oh, they was the greatest.

The branches were hinged.

You could fold up the tree
from Christmas to Christmas.

Uh, Mr. Drucker--

Fred, why are you so stubborn
about this plastic tree?

It's better than any
aluminum tree I ever carried.

It's got more features.

Uh, such as what?

Mr. Drucker--

just squeeze that bulb
at the bottom.

Uh, my...

I can't bend.
My stooper's
a little stiff.

Mr. Douglas,
how's your stooper?

Would you mind?

Hey, what's that?

That is genuine
spruce spray.

One squirt of that
will pine your room for hours.

You ever see
an aluminum tree do that?

Well, no,
but, uh--

now, look here.

Notice these holes
along the trunk?

These holes are
automatic oozers.

They ooze imitation sap.

They stick you up just as good
as the real stuff.

What do you think,
Mr. Douglas?

Oh, I don't, uh--

with the custom deluxe model,

you get this pound bag
of plastic pine needles.

You just spread 'em
on the carpet around
the base of the tree,

and they'll clog up
your vacuum better
than the real thing.

Well, ok, Sam,
I'll take it.

Fine. How about you,
Mr. Douglas?

You want one?
I got a couple left.

Please, no.
No, thank you.

Ain't--ain't you gonna
have a tree?

Yes, I'm gonna
chop down my own.

Oh, you're puttin' us on.

No, I'm not.

Oh, doggone it, Mr. Douglas,

just at the time
that I thought you was
gettin' to be one of us,

you turn city.

I'm not turning city.

I never chopped a tree down
in New York.

Then, what do you
want to start now for?

Because I want
an old-fashioned
Christmas,

with a real tree
that I can decorate
with strings of popcorn--

pop-- that reminds me.
You got any popcorn?

Uh, Mr. Drucker, i--

ain't that beautiful,
Mr. Douglas?

How many yards
you want?

Give me about
2 yards, Sam.

This is made out of wax.

You want
artificial butter for it?

Mr. Ziffel,
surely you're not gonna
use wax popcorn.

Why not?

You might just as well
use plastic candy canes.

They're fiberglass.

Fiberglass?

Those stripes
are waterproof.

You can suck on 'em
from one Christmas
to the next,

and they'll look
just as good as new.

You suck on them, not me.

Gentlemen,
I'm surprised at you.

The American farmer
didn't get
where he is today

by celebrating Christmas
with--with phony trees,

wax popcorn,
plastic candy canes.

Gentlemen,

to the American farmer,
Christmas is real.

He goes out
with axe in hand,

chops down his own tree,

brings it back, garlands it
with strings of popcorn

from his own corn crib.

Makes cider
from his own apple trees.

And when the Christmas Carols
ring out,

in the still of the night

he looks up at the sky
and he says:

"I'm proud to be
an American farmer
on Christmas."

Mr. Douglas,

you didn't have anything to do
with Sam not carrying
them aluminum trees, did you?

No, I didn't.

Mmm-hmm.

You just come over here
to stir up some general
kind of trouble, is that it?

Yes, i--

no.

I came in here
to find out if it's true

that there's a conservation
law that'll prevent me

from chopping down my own tree
on my own land.

I don't know.

Me either.

Well,
who would know?

You might ask
Hank kimball.

Mr. Kimball.

Oh, Mr. Douglas, uh,
sit down, sit down.

Thank you.

I was, uh, just giving
the office a holiday feeling.

We decorate
for all legal holidays,

uh, Christmas, new year's,
Valentine's day,

Abraham clodwell's birthday.

Abe clodwell.
Very interesting man.

He's a sort of a patron Saint
of the county agent.

Designed our official uniform.

Well, he didn't design it.

He wrote all those
nasty letters to congress

to get them to put pockets
in our pants.

Well, bully for clodwell.

You know the song?

What song?

Bully for clodwell.

We open all our county agent
conventions with it.

♪ Bully for clodwell,
the man of the people ♪

♪[whistling]

Mr. Kimball, please,
I need your help.

I want to know if I can
cut down a Christmas tree.

You're putting me on.

No, I'm not.

Nobody cuts down their own
Christmas tree anymore.

They buy plastic ones.

Boy, they're really great.

They, uh, spray spruce juice,

ooze imitation sap, uh,
shed plastic pine needles.

Boy, you never saw
such an artificial mess!

If I have a mess,
I want a real one.

Now, is there any reason
I can't cut down my own tree?

Yes, there is.

There's a conservation law
against it.

Nobody in this state
can cut down a Christmas tree
without a permit.

You can get one
from your county agent.

I have his address
around here someplace.

Mr. Kimball,
you're my county agent.

Oh, I guess I am.

We both have the same address.

Will you stop
beating around the bush

and give me my permit?

Yes, sir.

You want
a bush-beating permit.

No, I want
a tree-chopping permit.

Oh.

One tree-chopping permit,
coming up.

There we are.

Thank you very much.

And a happy clodwell's
birthday to you.

Yes, sir.

Clodwell's birthday?

I thought
it was Christmas.

(Eb)
Ain't that
hotcake batter?

Yes.

I thought you were
making a fruitcake.

Mrs. Ziffel's recipe says
to use batter,

and this is the only kind
I know how to make.

You sure get a lot of mileage
out of your hotcake batter.

You make
hotcake goulash out of it,

hotcake hamburgers,

hotcake fishcakes.

Last but not the least,

hotcake sink stoppers.

Is that
one of my hotcakes?

Yes, ma'am.
Mr. Douglas glued
this handle on it

with some of your coffee.

Well!

He didn't mean no harm.

He was just showing me
that they're waterproof.

Would you dry
the fruits, please?

Yes, ma'am.

What am I
doing this for?

Well, Mrs. Ziffel said
to use dried fruits,

and how can you dry it
unless it's wet?

This ok?

Ain't you gonna
cut that up?

What for?
It fits.

(Oliver)
Lisa, I've cut the tree.

Oh, I've got
to hide this.

I don't want
Mr. Douglas to see it.

Kinda wish I hadn't.

Here are the lights,
Mr. Douglas.

Do you want this
on top of the tree?

No.
Untangle the wires.

It sure looks pretty
this way.

Untangle the wires.

Yes, sir.

Eb, what
are you doing?

Untangling
the wires.

What for? That goes
on the top of the tree.

No, it doesn't.

Well, you put it there
last year.

I did not.

I did?

Those eggnogs really hit you
between the eyes, Charlie.

Untangle
the wires.

What should I do
with the corns
I strung for you?

Lisa, you're supposed to take
the kernels off the cob
and string them.

Well, don't blame me.
I never did it before.

In the old country,
we used to string caviar.

Caviar?

We have caviar on one string
and crackers on the other.

Oh, for...

Then we'd play
the Hungarian Christmas game

called "smear the crackers
with caviar."

Lisa,

just string the corn.

Ha, look at that.

[Grunting]

Arnold don't like it.

Well, he will when he gets
a whiff of this spruce spray.

[Squealing]

Now look what you've done.

I never saw
such a chicken pig.

Arnold!

Look, there ain't nothing
to be scared of.

Squeeze some
spruce yourself.

See that?
It won't hurt you.

Arnold, get your snout
out of those oozers.

You're getting
all imitation-sapped.

Oh, Doris.

Fred,
it's a shame.

Arnold's almost 3 years old
and he's never seen
a real Christmas tree.

Well, that don't make
no difference.

It does so.
I think Mr. Douglas
has the right idea,

having an old-fashioned
Christmas.

Fake tree.

Oh, Doris, I don't know why
you're carrying on like this.

Mrs. Douglas came over here
this afternoon

and wanted to know
how to make a fruit cake.

It's been so long since
I made one, I had to
look up the recipe.

Is she gonna
make a fruitcake
for Mr. Douglas?

She sure is.

Doris, that could make you
an accessory to manslaughter.

Fred, if city folks can
put themselves out to have
an old fashioned Christmas,

I don't see why we can't.

Oh, Doris--

we owe it to Arnold.

[Grunting]

Arnold. I believe you
think more of that pig
than you do me.

Remember, you're the one
that said it.

Lisa, we're ready
to light the tree.

(Lisa)
Wait a minute.
I've got the corn.

What's that?

You told me to take
the kernels off, so I did.

Yeah, you take
the kernels off,

and then you pop them
and string them together.

You want me to
string you some caviar?

No, just light up the tree.
Eb, light up the tree.

Yes, sir.

Now, is that pretty?

Oh, it's beautiful,
darling.

It'll look better with
my present under it.

Whatever that's
gonna be.

Eb!

[Knocking at door]

Now, who's that?

Oh, the ziffels.

Merry Christmas!
Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas.

Mr. Douglas,
we just come over

'cause Arnold's never seen
a real Christmas tree
in his whole life.

(Oliver)
No!

Go on, Arnold.
Take a look at it.
That's right.

[Grunting]

Arnold, get away
from there.

What's he
trying to do?

Oh, he thinks all trees
are squirters.

I hope you're proud
of yourself, Fred.

Oh, Doris.

Gosh,
it is beautiful.

You're right,
Mr. Douglas,

there's something about
an old-fashioned Christmas.

[Knocking at door]

Ah, Mr. Drucker,
Mr. Kimball.

Merry Christmas,
everybody

uh, it's a sort of
an official visit.

When you left
my office the other day,

you wished a happy
clodwell's birthday

and I wanted to be sure
you knew it was Christmas.

I was just kidding.

Oh, I wish I'd known that
before I took down
all my Christmas decorations.

Oh, tell the truth,
Hank.

About what?

Well, uh, me and Hank
being bachelors,

we always spend
Christmas Eve together,

and we were sitting there
in the store,

staring at that
plastic Christmas tree

squirting spruce juice
all over the place,

and we got to thinking
about what you said

about an old-fashioned
Christmas and, uh,

well, we thought we'd come by
and look at your tree.

You can look
all you want.

Mr. Ziffel, notice where
your wife's standing?

Under the mistletoe.

Why don't you
mind your own business?

Oh, go ahead, Mr. Ziffel,
why don't you kiss her?

Yeah, Mr. Ziffel,
go ahead, go ahead.

Pucker up, woman.

Ooh! Doggone it,
Fred. Ha!

You still got
a lot of Valentino
left in you yet.

Gee, this is like
the Christmas eves
I used to have

when I was
a little boy.

With all the neighbors
coming over and everything.

Hey, Mr. Douglas, how about
singing us a Christmas song?

Oh, I, uh...

Oh, come on,
Mr. Douglas,

come on.
No.

'Cause I don't know
where my guitar is.

Here it is.

Now where did you
get that?

Right behind the chair
where you stashed it

in case anybody
asked you to sing.

You people don't want
to sit around

listening to me
sing all evening.

We ain't got
nothing else to do.

Yeah, we got
all evening.

Go on, Mr. Douglas.
Nothing can drive us out.

Surprise,
surprise!

Old-fashioned fruitscake,
I baked myself.

I just remembered,
I've got to go home.

Me, too.

I left my oozers on.

Merry Christmas!

Happy new year!

Merry Christmas,
everybody.

Come on, Doris.

I've got to go
wrap a few things.

[Squealing]

Goodbye.

Well, that wasn't very
old-fashioned of them.

No, it wasn't.

Well, at least
you are still here.

Yeah, but, uh,
will I be here tomorrow?

Oliver, Christmas Eve
is no time to start
an argument.

Shh. I know.
I was just teasing.

You know, there's only
one thing that would make
my Christmas complete.

What's that?
Snow.

Snow!

What are you
yelling about?

There it is.

How could that...

Why, it was
81 degrees today!

Well, isn't christmastime
for miracles?

Yeah, but, you...

We're wasting a perfectly
good piece of mistletoe.

Oh, yeah.

Well, merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas,
darling.

City folks sure are peculiar.

Imagine a wife
givin' her husband

a bag of soap flakes
for a Christmas present.

(Lisa)
this has been a filmways
presentation, darling.