In a bold move that once and for all proves that those Hollywood types really do care about 'the little guy' in this world as well as in the next, a home-spun cultural icon and darn good whistler returned to the world of the living to help the 2nd smallest town in the State adapt to a frightening and turbulent decade filled with Mohawk hairdos, drive-in movie theaters and really weird skirts with poodles plastered all over them. Mr. Griffith, known in these parts as being that mean, mean man who would only give that hero Deputy Barney Fife one stinking bullet instead of a whole doggone magazine (Barney Fife is definitely a psychological and temperamental role model for males of all ages in these parts), as well as being the only guy on earth who could ever put up with that clingy, annoying and bossy "Aunt Bee" (Queen Bee is more like it! Oh, the Greater Lamont Metropolitan Area (GLMA) has a dozen just like her!). Oh, and he is indeed that unfortunate man who should have turned that anti-social miscreant "Opie" over his knee in almost every dadburn episode (sometimes twice!), for crying out loud! (or shipped the little brat off to military school or something!) (out of politeness we won't even mention Goober! Oh, now there is a fertile psychological field just begging to be plowed!). This man, who we will call "Andy" but only because familiarity breeds contempt, was and is a prototypical small town American icon during the post-WWII years and beyond (up until that really great 'Sonny and Cher' TV show swept the hearts of the nation!) and helped to forever put the supposedly irresistible charms of small town living at the top of the list of outrageous and totally bogus national delusions that we all bought into like so many lemmings racing towards the North Sea and thus can't help but be disappointed with - once we committed ourselves and all of our meager resources to that particularly mind-numbing, quicksand-like life choice. Anyway, this said 'Andy', a fictional sheriff of some stupid small town where no one ever steals gasoline and where dogs do not take up about 80% of the mayor's time, demonstrated his calm, well-reasoned, and even folksy manner when he suddenly materialized at a town meeting and began to sooth the frazzled, taunt piano-wire-like nerves of an easily spooked citizenry from the surrounding area (although that Southern accent of his was pretty darn hard to follow at times! I mean, how many syllables does the word 'well' have, anyway?) - a citizenry that is largely adverse to change of any kind, even change that the rest of the world (including most 3rd world nations, for crying out loud!) plowed right thru with very little difficulty 50+ years ago."Well, if it weren't for that stupid mayor and all of his 'Big City Ways', me and my family could be safely ensconced forever in the loving embrace of the 1890's" said Scooter Bodine, 63, an area farmer/rancher and one of the relatively "pro-growth' segment of the local body politic. "Heck, who doesn't long for a time before all them fancy zippers and new-fangled fire hydrants and fancy parking lanes and, of course, those doggone sidewalks put in all over the place by that fancy-pants Century West Engineering! A town can only absorb so much change and innovation in any given 100-year period, for crying out loud! And I ain't alone in these largely irrational and self-defeating views, neither!" he bellowed in a vain hope that his laggardly friends and neighbors would hear him and come to his emotional and intellectual rescue. (Sadly, given the inherent laziness of this backward looking segment of the so-called 'body politic', he could only manage one half-hearted head nod and one furtive, sideways glance from the group of his supposed core supporters.) "Things just move so fast now-a-days! Now the town just seems to be a blur of painting and paving and planning and improving! That is just so wrong, I say!" he screeched with a definite tone of panic in his voice - like some big sissy on a roller-coaster for the very first time - even those lame ones that show up around here from time to time.
"Well, I have to admit it was a little creepy when we were talking about ways to make Lamont more safe and all of a sudden Andy Griffith of all people just seemed to come out of thin air over by the office space heater" said the amazed mayor. "After about 45 minutes of catching up on how Opie and Aunt Bee were and if Barney ever caught that gang of thieves from the 'big city' and if Otis ever got off the sauce, Andy really laid into us on the inherent benefits of embracing the modern era, even if we are 60 years behind the rest of the doggone world" he said breathlessly, still excited by seeing an actual dadburn celebrity. "He told us how Mayberry had the same growing fears as Lamont, but that those fictional characters just bucked up, got out of the way, and the next thing they knew some dude was making a dadburn TV show about the whole dern mess of 'em! Heck, we all know that we can never be a Long Beach, I mean, who can ever aspire to achieve those Herculean Heights of good planning and overall livability, but Andy was very effective, I think, in encouraging the frightened citizenry to stop rejecting every single change - especially the ones that make their families and children more safe. And, of course, we all begged and pleaded with him to somehow sneak into one of those totally awesome "Gunsmoke" re-runs, just for the heck of it. He and Miss Kitty would make a really cute couple - although Marshall Dillon does carry a gun and knows how to use it!" he concluded insanely!
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