Some of my earliest TV memories are of watching The Andy Griffith Show. The familiar whistle rang in every episode with a wholesome familiarity that reassured. I was going to see a story about a family and community that loved and supported each other. I was going to laugh. I might even cry, but in the end, everything would be all right.
Lately I’ve been wishing for more of those Mayberry moments. My real life has very few days that smell like apple pie or sound like a guitar playing on the porch at dusk. People don’t always speak with a slow southern drawl that comforts and shows kindness. That’s what I’ll miss about Andy Griffith, who passed away today at the age of 86.
I’ve often thought that heaven might be a little like Mayberry. With Andy Griffith there, it’s sure to be.
That’s a wrap for this Toast to Cinema. Thanks for reading.