If you've never seen the film, you're missing out. It's classic.
Strangely enough, my long bout with unemployment has made me think about this movie of late in several ways. My legs aren't broken, but they might as well be. Having time on my hands, I have become a watcher of the neighborhood..and discovered that there actually is one. I'll bet you have one too, and don't even know it. And there's probably no murderer there. Just people you don't know, some of whom you might like to.
In truth, I didn't discover my neighborhood as much as they discovered me. I live on a corner lot, and 4 years ago I decided to get rid of the lawn and plant either flowers or vegetables. The past 2 years it's been vegetables, but oddly enough I get as many compliments on the vegies as I do the flowers which preceded.
Strangers walk by and stop. And they talk. That most oddity of oddities in urban culture. They like what they see, and they stop to exchange a few words. Sometimes more than a few.
I've watched mothers walk their children to school, holding their hands, and seen them pick them up later in the afternoon. A couple of them call me by name when they see me and cry out "Hi Mr Keith"...I must admit, at 54 and having no kids of my own, and never really wanting any...there are moments when I wonder...children are so much more wondrous these days than they were when I was 27 years old.
But back to the neighborhood. I live in an inner urban area of Portland, Oregon...sort of working class. Nobody gets too close, but everyone says hello. You know the kind of place. But when I planted my garden, it was like a magnet. Like the Kevin Kostner movie..."if you plant it, they will come...."
And come they did. Some people give me plants. Others ask if I have any tomatoes I don't have a use for. I have 4 backyard hens, and I am able to give away a dozen eggs about every 10 days, which still leaves my wife and I with 18 in the fridge at any given time. I met an elderly lady in the neighborhood a year ago who limps along walking her ancient beagle...they keep each other alive. She barely gets by. When the garden is going strong, I give her corn and beans and greens. And eggs. She is so thankful...she was born in Trinidad, and she brings me homemade habanero hot sauce.
I would never have met her, or many other people...or even realized that this neighborhood I live in actually IS a neighborhood.
Say hello to someone on your street. Plant a garden. Get to know your neighbors.
You might be surprised.