For many of us, that sweet, soothing, softly whistled ear-worm of a theme song will always be the first thing that springs to mind when we think of Andy Griffith.
And then the evocative imagery: A father and his son, fishing poles in hand, casually strolling toward a lake, about to embrace a carefree day full of promise.
Ah, if only we could escape to that fishing hole in a bucolic slice of heaven called Mayberry (no matter that the scene was actually filmed in Southern California). Heck, if only stouthearted Sheriff Andy could be our Pa …
Griffith, who died at 86 on Tuesday in Roanoke Island, N.C., personified “comfort TV” before the term became popular. First as an aw-shucks lawman on “The Andy Griffith Show,” then much later as a cagey defense attorney on “Matlock,” the actor consistently exuded a strong sense of justice and decency.
Indeed, he was the kind of trustworthy guy you wanted to have in your corner.
Born an only child in Mount Airy, N.C. — the model for Mayberry — Griffith began his career as a comic monologuist in clubs and on records, honing variations of the good ol’ country boy persona. It paid off on Broadway, where he earned Tony nominations playing a Southern bumpkin in the Army-based comedy “No Time for Sergeants,” and a sheriff in the musical “Destry Rides Again.”
After taking a turn on the big screen with Elia Kazan’s “A Face in the Crowd” and a film adaptation of “Sergeants,” Griffith tried his hand at television, following the path of Tennessee Ernie Ford, another warmhearted country boy who made it big.
“The Andy Griffith Show” debuted in 1960 and became an instant success. Unlike anything else on television, it was a kinder, gentler sitcom, one that chronicled the small-town lives of sheriff and widower Andy Taylor, his precocious little son Opie (Ron Howard), matronly Aunt Bee (Frances Bavier) and jittery Deputy Barney Fife (Don Knotts).
It must have, at times, seemed like a thankless role to Griffith, who failed to win an Emmy nomination for the show that bore his name. He not only had to play the straight man to the scene-stealing Knotts (who won five Emmys), but to an array of oddball characters including Floyd the Barber (Howard McNear), goofy gas attendant Gomer Pyle (Jim Nabors) and town drunk Otis Campbell (Hal Smith).
Still, Griffith stood tall — literally and figuratively — as the conscience of his mythical little berg. Stoic, but also tolerant, affectionate and reassuring, he seemed to represent all that was right with the world, as corny as that might sound. He conveyed to viewers that one of the most important roles is to serve as a solid role model for your child.
“The backbone of our show was love,” Griffith once said. “There’s something about Mayberry and Mayberry folk that never leaves you.”
“The Andy Griffith Show” was a ratings powerhouse for eight seasons — and one of the few sitcoms to call it quits while still riding atop the Nielsens. But it’s difficult to imagine it even existing in this era of edgy, in-your-face television. Sheriff Taylor spewing flatulence jokes? Never.
Fortunately, the show lives on in reruns, serving as a reminder of a more gentle and innocent time. Thus, it’s comforting to know that Andy Griffith will always be around to provide us with common-sense life lessons as that chipper little theme song continues to run through our heads.
Read Chuck Barney’s TV blog at http://blogs.mercurynews.com/aei/category/tv and follow him at http://twitter.com/chuckbarney.