“You beat everything, you know that,” is the exasperated phrase Deputy Barney Fife used whenever his boss, Sheriff Andy Taylor, played a joke on him. This week, one of America’s founding television fathers, Andy Griffith, passed away at the age of 86.

“The Andy Griffith Show” has played almost continuously on television since its beginning back in 1960. TAGS is the often-funny television show about Andy Taylor, the sheriff of friendly Mayberry and the people in his and the town’s life.

But the show is much more than a sit-com, and a large part of that is due to the excellent writers and the high standards set by Griffith.

Born in 1926 in North Carolina, Griffith began his acting career on Broadway and later in films. He was featured on “The Danny Thomas Show” as a small-town sheriff who gives Thomas a speeding ticket.

The character was well received, and “The Andy Griffith Show” became a reality. Originally, Griffith was to be the comic and fellow actor and friend Don Knotts would play the straight guy.

But Knotts’ comedic talents were quickly realized, and the two switched roles for the betterment of the show. Throughout its long run, Griffith allowed other characters to have the limelight but he remained the central, stable character of the show, and my generation loved him.

We baby boomers grew up with TV dads Andy Taylor, Jim Anderson and Ward Cleaver who dispensed sage advice. By today’s standards, these shows might seem hokey, portraying an America that existed only in Norman Rockwell paintings.

But the timeless lessons Andy Taylor taught his son, Opie, still ring true, such as the episode “Opie and the Bully.” Andy finds out his young son is being bullied for his milk money on the way to school every morning.

Instead of filing a lawsuit against the family, Andy tells Opie about the time he was bullied and how he had to stand up for himself against the bully, swinging like a “windmill in a tornado.”

There’s no way to stay dry eyed when young Opie looks up at his father, asking for reassurance that the fight really won’t hurt. That’s a tough situation almost every parent has faced.

Andy also taught us another life lesson when Opie claims to have a friend, Mr. McBeevee, who walks in the trees. Opie’s story is preposterous, and Andy thinks he’s lying. But when Opie asks his father to believe him, Andy finally does for only one reason – he trusts his son.

Andy taught us a lot about friendship. Even though the bumbling Barney deserved to lose his job dozens of times, Andy found ways to boost Barney’s self esteem and regain his faith in himself. Those timeless lessons cross racial, gender and cultural lines.

Many episodes ended with Andy, Barney, Opie and Aunt Bee relaxing on the Taylor’s front porch at the end of the day. Andy would be strumming his guitar as they quietly sat together, seemingly without worries or fears.

For the 1960’s, that scene was far from reality – protesting hippies, assassinations of political leaders, the turbulent Vietnam War, economic woes and fighting for civil rights filled the nightly news.

Perhaps we used Andy and Barney to escape, and many of us still use the show to hide from life. Whenever I’m having a tough day, I pop in one of my well-worn DVD or search for Andy Griffith on YouTube, sit back and escape to Mayberry for a half hour with these cherished friends from my childhood.

Andy, one day, we’ll see you down at the fishin’ hole.

Thank you for the memories.
 
This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.