Income tax season is one of the most stressful times of the year. The pressure of the looming April 15th filing deadline often brings out some of the most duplicitous, underhanded, and unethical behavior imaginable -- and that's just from the government. (This would be a good time to mention to Uncle Sam that I am a loyal and prompt taxpayer.) However, like many of us, I find the process overwhelming.

Fortunately, we have help. If television can teach us how to survive being stranded on an uncharted desert isle, or how to adapt when a meteor storm leaves your craft adrift in outer space, it can teach us how to get through income tax season. Here are valuable tax tips gleaned from some of our favorite classic programs and characters:

Pay your fair share: In 'Death and Taxes,' Bat Masterson strolls into Hard Rock, Colorado, looking for business opportunities. While searching for the proprietor of an empty casino/hotel, he meets newly elected sheriff Tim Lockhart, who is both the tax assessor and the tax collector. Apparently the term 'conflict of interest' was not common in the Old West.

The owner of the local railroad line, John Minor, is fighting Lockhart's radical plan to make everyone actually pay their taxes. Hard Rock is decaying as property owners shirk their payments, and Bat decides to help out, seeing a chance to build up the casino by partnering with its owner, Lily. It's always 'Lil' or 'Lily.' Weren't there any saloon keepers or hotel owners named Hortense or Bertha in the Old West?

It takes about 30 seconds for Bat to convince Lockhart to search Minor's private vault to see if he's hiding money to avoid taxation. Should this guy really be the town's main lawman? OK, he doesn't directly rob anyone in this episode, but I guarantee you he'd have his hand on Hard Rock's till by the end of the episode if Bat Masterson were an hour-long show.

Minor is scheming to move his money out of the county, but after a few twists and some fisticuffs, he ultimately learns it's hopeless. 'Death and Taxes' proves Americans are proud to support fair and equitable taxation...as long as someone else pays it. In the end, Hard Rock expands its tax base, Bat expands his faro tables, Sheriff Lockhart expands his power, and series star Gene Barry expands our enjoyment of the show by showing off and using his patented cane to tap out Morse code. I'd call it a win for everyone.

No, really, pay your taxes: Let's go back to the Western genre for another lesson in the futility of skipping out on duties. In 'The Tax Gatherer,' from season four of Have Gun Will Travel, Paladin drives a hard bargain with the mayor of Bad Dog, Oregon, to collect from unwilling residents. He insists on getting half of what he gathers instead of the mayor's proposed third, reminding him that half of something is better than two thirds of nothing. With that kind of mathematical inclination, I think Paladin may be a natural for this business!

I must confess 'The Tax Gatherer' offers few sharp insights about personal finance or even about the economics of assessing value on rustled cattle. We do see that lives would be saved if people would just pay up, but this isn't necessarily one of the better episodes of HGWT. It's worth it, though, for the beginning, when Paladin struts down the staircase at the Hotel Carlton in a top hat and cape, obviously ready for a day on the town. There may be no finer example of Paladin's essential suavity.

Perhaps the tip here is, if you're someone who lets a professional do your taxes each year, why not liven up the process by showing up in a top hat and cape? You won't get any extra money back, but I guarantee your preparer won't misplace your return.

If you're moving to California, travel light: 'The Taxman Cometh,' a second-season installment of The Real McCoys, opens with a frantic Grandpa (Walter Brennan) hurrying to get furniture out of the house. The tax assessor is coming, and Grandpa Amos tells Luke and Kate you have to pay taxes on your furniture in this county. (Only in Californy, kids, only in Californy!)

Luke and Kate are resigned to paying, saying the law's the law, but Grandpa insists he won't. After all, the furniture came from 'West Virginny.' They can pay taxes on THEIR stuff, but he's going to hide his things in a haystack. 'Where else would I put it?' he asks a confused Pepino. When the farmhand balks at the ruse -- he also says 'the law's the law'--Grandpa threatens to tell Pepino's lady friend he took another woman to last night's dance. Yes, we can add blackmail to Grandpa's transgressions, along with tax fraud and mangling the English language.

The tax assessor is played by Richard Deacon, so you know he takes his job seriously. When the reverend happens to visit when the taxman arrives, he assumes the furniture is missing because the family had to sell it due to financial setbacks. Well, it's a much more logical assumption than 'Grandpa hid the couch in a haystack.'

A combination of pride (when being considered a charity case) and shame (when informed that some of the tax revenue helps the needy) makes Grandpa confess and pay up. The show is trying to teach a strong lesson about honesty and following the law, but I think the real message is, don't take your nice stuff to California. Buy new things after tax season is over, or at least make sure you have a really big haystack.

Talk to Gracie Allen: Do you find the modern tax code too complicated, if not impenetrable? If you feel oppressed by the prospect of hunting down all the newest deductions, talk to Gracie Allen. After a few minutes of conversation with her, the most elaborate form will seem like a breeze.


Witness 'Income Tax Man,' a hilarious episode of The Burns and Allen Show. Visiting George and Gracie's home is Mr. Hanley from 'Business Administration,' who says he is there to take care of their taxes. Gracie thanks him, saying, 'We're tired of paying them ourselves.' And we're off!

There is other action going on in this story, but the highlight is the increasingly perplexed Hanley (Joseph Kearns) staggering back to the den after hearing each explanation of Gracie's daffy deductions. Does it make sense that she should deduct a phonograph because she puts the fishbowl on it so the fish can exercise without swimming? Maybe not, but after hearing 4 or 5 of these examples you'll be a lot more confident tackling those mortgage deductions. Actually, one of Gracie's ideas makes some sense. She asks, if we pay the salaries of all our Congressmen and therefore support them, why can't we mark them all down as dependents?

Incidentally, I'm skeptical about this Ralph Hanley fellow. Maybe I'm exposing my ignorance from having not been around in 1951, but if a stranger came to my door to do my taxes, claiming to be from 'Business Administration,' I might do a little due diligence. Do George and Gracie buy their food from 'Retail Grocery' down the street? Any would-be con artist is no match for Allen's illogical logic, but I still think I'd tell this Hanley to take a hike, even if he did look just like good ol' Mr. Wilson.

Hang onto your receipts: The mere sight of the title 'Bilko's Tax Trouble' should fill you with anticipation. Who doesn't want to see Sergeant Ernie Bilko take on the IRS? It's no surprise this sector of the government doesn't look any more efficient than the U.S. Army does in the course of the series. The only reason Bilko is audited is because of a careless clerical error.

Ernie doesn't know this, though, so naturally he goes on the attack, bursting into the office and, affecting a limp, demanding to know why the Bureau is picking on poor soldiers about income taxes from a few years ago. He suggests the military was caught off guard at Pearl Harbor because everyone was busy going over their 1940 returns! The tax folks aren't one to back down from a challenge, so they give Bilko one day to get his 1953 info in order.

Ernie is most worried about the staggering amount of dances he holds for the men as 'fundraisers.' So after reviewing all the scams he has perpetrated, he realizes his whole life has been an affront to good citizenship and fair play, and he throws himself on the mercy of the suits, offering to pay restitution and dedicating himself to legitimate public service.

Nah, of course he does nothing of the kind! Although he declares he's a non-profit operation - all that he gets from the dances, he gives away to 'the horses' - and realizes he needs to account for all the dance ticket money he supposedly gave back as prizes for the attendees. So he creates a series of new schemes designed to make everyone think they actually got the prizes: an Atlantic City trip for Paparelli, a loving cup for Colonel Hall, and more.

One fascinating aspect of 'Bilko's Tax Trouble' is the premise that Bilko must go to all this trouble because if the men are called into the investigation, they'll tell the truth and reveal all the money went into their sarge's pockets. Suddenly, in the Bilko universe, everyone's worried that soldiers won't attempt to deceive the government?

It's an outstanding episode, though, and a practical lesson becomes clear when Bilko hauls dozens of boxes marked '1953' into the tax office. The more paperwork you have, the less they actually want to investigate you. Inside the office, the heat isn't on the shady con man who stages a 'Forgive and Forget' dance to commemorate Benedict Arnold's birthday; it's on whoever is responsible for bogging everyone down in all this bookkeeping. If you're ever audited, print everything out and mail it to the IRS. If Bilko's experience is any indication, they'll pretend to exhaust all resources going over it, but in the end they'll be happy just to see you go away.

Check your work: It doesn't take much to excite Ralph Kramden in The Honeymooners, and in 'The Worry Wart,' when he sees a letter telling him to report to the tax bureau in the morning, he's a bundle of nerves. Alice tries to calm her worried husband, saying, 'You're not the first person who was ever investigated.' Ed Norton quickly agrees: 'You're darn right. The jails are full of them!' During this mini-crisis, Ralph throws Ed out of his apartment so many times, he eventually just points and says, 'You know what this means, don't you?' and Norton throws himself out.

The prospect of being investigated by the taxmen is a particularly sour note for Ralph, who was counting on blowing his 2 refund on a fishing vacation at Fred's Landing. He sits down with Norton to go over his return, scrambling to think of unreported income that might have raised a red flag. My favorite is the five bucks he won at the raccoon picnic for winning the three-legged race.

The entire episode is one of the series' best, somehow energetic and fast-paced even though all but the last scene occurs in the Kramdens' apartment. It's full of great jokes about tax delinquency, outbursts by Ralph, and great reactions by Ed and Alice to those outbursts. I don't want to spoil the resolution, but just be careful and deliberate when you fill out your return.

'The Worry Wart' is so funny, I now feel more relaxed about doing my own taxes. If you seek out these classic TV shows, you'll be armed with plenty of useful tips to carry you through the filing process. If nothing else, you'll at least have a fine way to pass the time while you're putting it off.

Rick Brooks is the proprietor of Cultureshark, a blog in which he uses an often irreverent approach to express his reverence for the classics and the un-classics.