Harriet Nelson

When syndicated newspaper columnist Bob Greene flew into Orange County from Chicago recently to spend a few days in Laguna Beach, he was surprised to learn Harriet Nelson lived there and did her own shopping in the local grocery store. The idea that you could go into a supermarket and actually see "America's Mother" wheeling a shopping cart down the aisle simply floored Greene, a Midwestern native.

"Homer, Marge and the kids visit Itchy and Scratchy Land, a violent theme park." "A thief infiltrates a neighborhood watch meeting." "Al ejects a customer for nursing her baby." "A gunshot is heard at school." All four of those scenes are taken from this week's TV listings. All four are from programs depicting family life in America. And you wonder why Harriet Nelson's death was front-page news?

They had survived their first raw winter in the new land--a harrowing time of scarce food, hard work and sickness that killed nearly half of the tiny band of 102 Pilgrims who had settled in Plymouth, Mass. And so they gathered in the autumn of 1621, having been befriended by their Indian neighbors and blessed by a bountiful harvest, to rejoice and give thanks, as was their custom, with a harvest festival.

Long before Instagram and Twitpics, there were Kodak Coloramas -- 60-foot wide, 18-foot high transparencies that greeted visitors and commuters at Grand Central Station in New York City from 1950 to 1990. Deemed the largest pictures of their day, the images were clever Kodak ads that emphasized an idealized post-war American life, one that required a camera to capture family photos, leisure time and vacation travel. Now, they're back -- and in the same venue. Thirty-six photographs from the original collection are being shown at the New York Transit Museum Gallery Annex at Grand Central through Nov. 1. The photos are smaller than the originals, but large enough to convey the visual impact the enormous images would have had. (See a sampling in this photo gallery .)

Harriet Nelson had died, and somehow it seemed appropriate last week to visit the house. Across 14 television seasons, this graceful Cape Cod Colonial had served both as the Nelson family home and as an exterior prop for "The Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet." It was painted white then. Today, the wood siding is blue. There were white picket fences in the show. Today, the house is surrounded by a barrier of black iron. Signs hung from the fence deliver a warning: "Armed Response."

It was a perfect little paradise for a wedding. Except that I'd promised the out-of-town guests a picturesque lake of blue fronting the seminary where we were married. Instead the water was a foot thick with ice, covered with so much snow you couldn't tell the lawn from the lake. I should have remembered how cold Minnesota could get in November. . . . Please pardon a column smothered with hugs and kisses. Today is my 20th wedding anniversary.

The South Coast Repertory's program notes for Sam Shepard's "Buried Child" quote Shepard as saying, "One of the weird things about being in America now is that you don't have any connection with the past. . . . You've got this emotional thing that goes a long way back, which creates a certain kind of chaos, a kind of terror."