Commentaries by Cynthia

*Note* Finally, a new column!

Decades after the television show first hit the airwaves in the 1960's, the Andy Griffith show continues to pull in audiences and fans through the fine art of syndication.

North Carolinians in particular love the show since it portrays our state in a wholesome light. Times seemed simpler and quieter then, and all disputes could be settled amicably by a kind-hearted sheriff who always knew the right thing to say or do regardless of the situation. There was only one criminal in town and that was the town drunk, Otis, who was really just a big ol’ loveable misfit. In Mayberry, there was no profanity, the streets were always clean, and neighbors looked out for each other. By the end of each episode, you turned off your television set, believing that having faith, family, and friends were what life in a small North Carolina town was all about.

Of course, during this time period, the actual state was undergoing great changes during the Civil Rights movement, and the demand for equality was being strongly resisted by a Southern born and bred group known as the KKK. In Mayberry, women had not yet joined the workforce, but in reality, many ladies of this era were working for scant wages in textile mills all over the state. According to the show, people didn’t get divorced, those with alternative or gay lifestyles didn’t exist, husbands didn’t beat their wives or vice versa, and no one had a drug problem so rehab centers weren’t necessary. No, in Mayberry things were peachy most of the time. You could even make a decent living for yourself by working at the corner drug or dime store. Perhaps no one was rich, but no one was homeless and living on the streets, either.

I realize that it was not the show’s intentions to show us the controversial aspects of living in a small southern town. Granted, topics like gossiping neighbors or moon-shining would occasionally crop up, but for the most part, the show steered clear of subject material that wasn’t appropriate for younger audiences. It was a family show that tried to portray us southerners as honest, loyal, and deeply caring of each other. And maybe as children we watched the show, buying into this ideal fantasy of how things were or should be in our home state, only to later enter the real world with a sense of disillusionment. Mayberry, as lovely as it seemed, was only the figment of someone else’s imagination, and it was sadly about as real as Cinderella and Star Wars.

As Billy Joel once said: “The good ol’ days weren’t always good and tomorrow’s not as bad as it seems.” Although there are groups that would like to take this country back to the “ideal” days of simpler times - those times are gone and were never all that ideal in reality. Underneath the innocent facade, in many households there was child or spousal abuse present, pedophiles roamed the area, people stole from each other, and other crimes against humanity were being committed, often in secret or under white-sheet disguises. No, when you take a hard look at the past, you begin to see that the good ol’ days in the South weren’t always good.

With that being said, I will also say that I caught a brief glimpse of Mayberry this past weekend. It was a beautiful May night, and I was sitting on a porch with a group of friendly neighbors, sipping on cold beverages. From a nearby park drifted in the sounds of bluegrass music and the scent of barbequing chicken. And for several minutes, I fully took in the sights, sounds, and aromas, then I suddenly realized why so many people from other areas of the country move to some small southern town they’ve never heard of before. We may not fully believe in Mayberry, but we still long for it. And every now and then, we find a way to re-create it, if only for a moment or two.

No matter where you live, if you have faith, family, and friends - you’ve got your own Mayberry RFD. And yes, it can be a very peachy place.