Mayberry Mondays #3: “The Race Horse” (10/07/68, prod. no. 0110)

In keeping with the equestrian theme of this episode, Sam Jones (Ken Berry) and his son Mike (Buddy Foster) are “strapping on the old feedbag,” finishing yet another delicious dinner prepared by their housekeeper, Beatrice “Aunt Bee” Taylor (Francis Bavier). (It’s a gourmet dish that Aunt Bee has difficulty pronouncing and I wasn’t even about to tackle spelling…so you’ll just have to trust me when I tell you it’s funny.) Dinner is interrupted by the ringing of the telephone, and upon answering it Sam learns that it’s his cousin Vince (OTR vet Jack Grimes) on the line, who announces his intention to pay them a visit since he’s passing through.

SAM: Oh…you know, I didn’t tell him how to get here…I’ll bet he’s forgotten after all these years…

AUNT BEE: Well, he just has to ask somebody…

SAM: Yeah… (With a chuckle) Hunh…

MIKE: Have I ever met your cousin Vince, Pa?

SAM: Well, yeah—just once, when you were about…oh, two years old…he put you up on a horse with him…he rode you all around the track…

MIKE: I don’t remember…what track?

SAM: A racetrack…this one was up in Maryland…

So Vincent is a racetrack tout? He hardly seems a proper role model for the impressionable young Mike. No, I’m kidding about that—Sam tells Mike that Vince is a former jockey, prompting Aunt Bee to remark: “You know, it always amazes me how those little men manage to steer those great big horses.” Sam patiently explains to her that horses are reigned, not steered—and besides, Vince is now a horse trainer. Aunt Bee then announces that she’ll have to get the guest room ready, and asks Mike if he’ll donate a picture of horses romping in the meadow that’s in his room to make Vince feel more at home. (Hell, why not just make him sleep in the barn?)

Cousin Vince drives up to Rancho Jones in a station wagon with a horse trailer in tow, as Mike excitedly announces to his father and Aunt Bee of Vince’s cargo. After the perfunctory meet-and-greet (Vince observes that Mike is “almost as tall as I am”), Sam’s relative asks if his passenger—who’s named Gingersnap—can get out and “stretch his legs a bit.” Sam, acting the proper country squire, assigns this task to a hired hand who answers to “Hank”—giving the audience the much-needed information that his farm is being looked after when he’s in town, mucking around Emmett Clark’s fix-it shop. (Unfortunately, Hank doesn’t get a screen credit…despite the fact that he has three lines. I wonder if SAG came down on the show like a ton of bricks.)

Sam is treating Vince to a cup of coffee when his cuz fills him in on the reason for his visit—he’s on his way to Baltimore, where a friend of his owns a restaurant that he wants Vince to partner in. As for the horse, Vince obtained the yearling when his former boss was unable to pay his back wages. He explains to Sam and Aunt Bee that Gingersnap isn’t a bad horse—he’s just never won a race, despite being the scion of Fairmont the Second (a horse that nearly won the Triple Crown) and Princess Wassein, an imported brood mare. (“Oooh…Gingersnap’s practically royalty,” coos Aunt Bee. “Yeah—almost calls for a curtsey,” returns Sam.) Vince asks Sam if he’ll keep the steed and if he’ll ask around to see if anyone needs a good saddle horse—the asking price being 300 clams. “Well,” observes Aunt Bee, sounding somewhat distraught, “a mother who’s a princess and a father who almost won the crown…and soon to be a saddle horse. Doesn’t seem fair.”

Well, we’re six minutes into this thing and Sam hasn’t been seen neglecting his orchards by jawing with Emmett (Paul Hartman), so the scene shifts to Mr. Clark’s bidness—where Mayberry’s fix-it savant is making a key and informing Sam that he may have located a buyer for the horse:

EMMETT: You know that fella that runs the stable over at that fancy girls’ boarding school in Walnut Hills?

SAM: Yeah…?

EMMETT: Well, he was in here this morning…he said he might be interested…

SAM: Oh, gee…that’s…that’s great, Emmett—I was beginning to give up hope of selling him…thanks, I appreciate it...

EMMETT: Oh, I always figure one hand washes the other… (Pointing to a repaired radio) If you happen to know anybody that’s interested in a Stromberg-Carlson radio…perfect condition…send ‘em around…

For those of you not up on your Mayberry arcana, “Walnut Hills” is the tonier section of television’s most famous small town—so why this guy is hanging out at Emmett’s is a question left unanswered. Fortunately for Sam, Emmett got the guy’s phone number and the gentleman—known as Mr. Bowers (Byron Morrow)—goes out to Sam’s farm to give the horse the once-over. Aunt Bee, it would seem, has other plans:

SAM: Uh, as I was saying, Mr. Bowers, he’s got a nice easy walk—and I know that’s very important with a saddle horse…especially at a girls’ school…nice, easy walk…

AUNT BEE: And he runs a lot, too…

(Sam looks surprised at this remark)

BOWERS: You did say he was gentle…

SAM: Gentle? Oh, gosh yes…why he…I’ve seen a lot of horses in my day, Mr. Bowers, but…this animal is without a doubt the gentlest horse I’ve ever seen…

AUNT BEE: Except when he gets charged up…

(Sam stares at Aunt Bee a second time)

BOWERS: When, uh…he gets charged up?

AUNT BEE: Oh, yes—he’s a very spirited animal…and when the mood strikes him, he likes to kick up his heels and buck and paw…

SAM (interrupting): Aunt Bee…

AUNT BEE: You know, those horses at the rodeo…

BOWERS: Yeah…yeah…Mr. Jones, I tell you what—I’d better sleep on this a couple of days…

SAM: Oh, now look, Mr. Bowers…

BOWERS (getting into his car): I’ll see you…

SAM: Yeah…well…he’s…really…

If this were real life, Sam would be having Aunt Bee committed right now. But because this is a wacky situation comedy, Sam resists the urge to give his housekeeper a necklace of fingers—in fact, he hands her the sports page of the paper later that evening when she asks to see it…because she wants to race Gingersnap at Morgan Downs, the local racetrack. (Maybe he should have her committed.) Sam tries to dissuade Aunt Bee by telling her of the prohibitive expense (it’s going to run her anywhere from fifty to a hundred simolians, and she is on a fixed income) but she dismisses this as a mere bag of shells and the next day, she and bakery doyenne Millie Swanson (Arlene Golonka) show up at the racing commissioner’s (Judson Pratt) office:

AUNT BEE: Yes, I have a very nice horse…and I’m wondering if you have any other horses he could run against…

BRICE: You have a horse?

MILLIE: Oh yes—four legs and everything…

AUNT BEE: Would Saturday be convenient? I imagine there’d be quite a crowd who’d like to come from Mayberry to see Gingersnap run…don’t you think so, Millie?

MILLIE: I do…

AUNT BEE: Hmm…Saturday, then…how much do I owe you?

BRICE: Well, just a minute, ma’am—are you the registered owner of the horse?

AUNT BEE: No…but Sam’s cousin is—Vincent Jones…and Sam said you might want to look over these papers…

(An incredulous Brice takes a sheath of papers offered to him by Aunt Bee and gives them a quick glance…)

BRICE: Gingersnap…two-year-old…well…everything’s in order here…now just what kind of a race did you want him to run in?

AUNT BEE: Well, I’m not particular…uh…maybe one of those seven furloughs you mentioned?

BRICE: No, that’s just for four-year-olds and up…

AUNT BEE: Oh…well, don’t you have something for horses around Gingersnap’s age on Saturday?

BRICE: Uh… (He looks over a piece of paper on his desk) Well, uh…how about the Blue Ridge Stakes for two-year-olds? Third race…

AUNT BEE: What time is that?

BRICE (after giving her another puzzled look): Three o’clock?

AUNT BEE: Oh, that will work out wonderfully…we’re going to have turkey for dinner…we can put the turkey in just before we leave and when we come back it’ll be all ready… (To Millie) I hope you’ll join us, Millie…

MILLIE: I’d love to…

AUNT BEE: Got to have a victory dinner, you know…

Aunt Bee coughs up the thirty-five dollars for the entry fee and Brice, though still unconvinced that Bee hasn’t escaped from the state cracker factory, agrees to find her a suitable jockey—“I think the smaller the better,” adds Millie helpfully. Brice also asks Aunt Bee about the name of the stable and the racing colors (for the program); she in turn informs him that she will call him later on with this information because she’s going to convene a meeting of the Mayberry think tank. (Well, that’s not precisely what she tells him—I embellished a tad.)

Wired on punch and cookies, Mayberry’s best and brightest are all in attendance at Sam’s home that evening…and they even allowed Goober Pyle (George Lindsey) in, too—who asks “Isn’t Andy coming to the meeting?” Rather than tell his pump jockey friend that Andy doesn’t live there anymore and he’s left everyone to fend for themselves on this sorry show, Sam makes up some fable about him being at a sheriff’s convention in Raleigh. (And the idiot buys it. Oddly enough, Howard Sprague is missing from this episode as well—which means he’s smarter than I previously gave him credit.) When the discussion turns to what name should be assigned to the “stables,” it’s out of the mouths of babes—young Mike suggests “Mayberry Stables,” and the adult react as if the little mook just split the atom. (That kid should already be in bed.) But what colors should be assigned to the horse?

“I got an idea,” Goober pipes up. “Red, yellow, pink, purple, orange and blue—them’s my favorites.” Realizing that the town should have put Goober to sleep a long time ago, Emmett counters: “You’ll never get all those colors on one jockey.” But when Millie lets slip that the Pom-Pom Girls from Mayberry High are coming along on the bus to watch the race (yowsah!), Aunt Bee suggests that the stallion be cloaked in red and green…and it’s passed with unanimous consent. “Hey, how ‘bout makin’ up a special victory cheer like…uh…clippety clop/clippety clop/don’t you stop/Gingersnop,” suggests Goober. (I wonder if that hot Dorothy girl he dated from last week’s episode has dumped him yet.)

It’s Race Day at Morgan Downs, and our Mayberry contingent is seated in the stands (I found it hard to stifle a chuckle when I saw Emmett chatting up a couple of the Pom-Pom Girls—he’s such a hound…). Goober spots Aunt Bee with Sam’s binoculars; she is giving Gingersnap’s jockey (Lou Wagner) a last minute set of instructions. When the jockey asks Bee how she wants him to ride the horse she replies: “Well, anyway you’re comfortable—just as long as you don’t fall off.” But she imparts to the confused jockey two specific requests: he is not to use “the whip” during the race (even if the horse has fallen behind) and he needs to give Gingersnap a lump of sugar just before the start (provided by Aunt Bee).

Back in the stands, Emmett reads in his program that the winner of the race will receive a $3000 purse—“That horse could be worth more than you and me put together,” he informs Goober. (Brother…you don’t know the half of it.) And…they’re off! Gingersnap is slow getting out of the gate, and Sam is certain that the horse is going to end up dead last. But Aunt Bee’s faith in the horse never falters, and as the race continues Gingersnap begins to pick up speed and catch up to his equine brethren and sistren. (There’s a nice bit of physical comedy as Goober grabs for Sam’s binoculars…and Sam ends up being pulled toward the Goob, since the binocs are around his neck. It made me misty for the bygone days of F Troop.) I don’t have to tell you experienced sitcom students that Gingersnap emerges victorious, and when Sam phones Vince to let him know he’s richer by three large (well, before the entry, barn and jockey fees) he decides that the restaurant business isn’t for him.

In the coda to this episode, Aunt Bee is approached by a neighbor—a Mr. Stebbins, another poor schmoe who doesn’t rate a mention during the closing credits—who wants to know if she can do the same thing for his horse, Smokey Dan, that she did for Gingersnap. Bee gives the filly the once-over and sadly tells Stebbins that the horse was bred for farming. “Better listen,” imparts Sam sagely. “She knows horse flesh.”

“The Race Horse” is an excellent example of the kind of Mayberry R.F.D. episode that has given the series the bland reputation it maintains to this day—or to use an observation by someone at the TV Party website: “If Mayberry R.F.D. was anything, it was evocative and insular. Even if there was no whip behind the cream, before you realized it, you were soaking in it.” Most of the Aunt Bee-centered episodes rightly deserve that description, but fortunately by this time actress Frances Bavier (sixty-five years old at R.F.D.’s start) had expressed an interest in working less, not more. According to the IMDb, Bavier only appears in twenty-five R.F.D. episodes…but because the information there is notoriously unreliable, I have decided to keep a running tally of Aunt Bee appearances with the state-of-the-art technology that I’d like to call the “Bee-O-Meter.” (Okay, smarty pants—you try inventing something with the math and science background I had.) With “Horse” and “Andy and Helen Get Married,” that adds up to two—which will henceforth be designated with the photo on the left.

Mayberry Mondays #2: “The Harvest Ball” (09/30/68, prod. no. 0102)

As our second episode of Mayberry R.F.D. opens, we find Mayberry’s think tank—grease monkey Goober Pyle (George Lindsey), pedantic civil servant Howard Sprague (Jack Dodson) and fix-it savant Emmett Clark (Paul Hartman)—hanging out in Mr. Clark’s shop…apparently these three men aren’t required to keep an eye on their respective businesses (save for Emmett). Sam Jones (Ken Berry), dirt farmer and Mayberry town council head, enters the establishment (nearly knocking Goober into a wall…the idiot was standing behind the front door) and asks its proprietor if he can put up a poster advertising the social event of the year in Mayberry…the Harvest Ball…

SAM: And, uh, Emmett…uh…try and sell a few tickets, too, will you? We want a full house…

EMMETT: Oh, sure…uh…whose music have we got this year?

SAM: Uh, same as usual…Carl Benson’s Wildcats…

HOWARD: Oh?

SAM: Yeah, only they’re going to add a saxophone this year and bring it to three pieces…

HOWARD: Oh…well, that could make a world of difference…

GOOBER: Who you takin’ to the Ball, Sam?

SAM: Oh, I’ll probably just go stag…

HOWARD (grinning): Gonna play the field, huh?

SAM (chuckling): Uh, yeah...

(Sam gives out with a nervous laugh and Goober joins in, giving Sam a nudge…)

EMMETT: How ‘bout you, Howard? Who’re you takin’?

HOWARD: Out of town girl…

EMMETT: Oh…new talent, huh?

HOWARD: Yeah…met her in a health food bar in Siler City…

Howard…you gay dog! You don't have to take your mother this year! As for Emmett, well, he’s going to stick with his usual—Martha (Mary Lansing), the old ball-and-chain. But his lack of enthusiasm for being Mrs. Clark’s escort is explained thusly: “It’s just after twenty-six years of being married it ain’t exactly that gay, romantic world you see in those Ginger Rogers pictures…it’s work, brother, it’s work…”

Sam has to be moseying (that town council doesn’t run itself, you know…or does it?) and Howard gets around to asking Goober the $64 question…namely, who is he going to take to the ball?

GOOBER (grinning foolishly): No comment…

EMMETT: She’s that bad, huh…?

GOOBER: It just so happens, Mr. Emmett Clark, that I ain’t asked her yet…

EMMETT: Well, what are you waitin’ for?

GOOBER: I will ask her at the proper place and time and besides it is none of your business…

Goober says every word in this last sentence slowly and deliberately…and I haven’t been able to discern whether he did that for Emmett’s benefit or if he’s just slow. After Goober flounces out of the shop, Howard confides in Emmett that he’s pretty certain the Goob is going to ask Millie Swanson (Arlene Golonka), the counter girl at Boysinger’s Bakery to the Harvest soiree. There’s just one teensy snag…Goober is suffering from stage fright, and can’t get up the nerve to ask Millie to the Ball—even when the opportunity presents itself while she’s filling up her ride at his service station. In the meantime, Sam has stopped by the bakery to ask Millicent about pimping the Harvest Ball with a poster in her store window and selling some tickets to boot. As he hands her the tickets, he is captivated by a strange, enticing aroma:

SAM: Say, that’s…that’s very nice, that perfume you’re wearing…it’s very different…

MILLIE (smiling): Well…thank you…but it’s not perfume…it’s fresh bread…

SAM: Oh…well…they ought to bottle it…

Schmuck… Oh, who am I kidding—there’s clearly an attraction between these two crazy kids, the point being driven home when Sam accidentally knocks the poster out of the window while exiting stage right and how the two of them reach to pick it up off the floor at the same time. There is an awkward pause, and the two of them address each other as “Miss Swanson” and “Mr. Jones” as Sam beats a hasty retreat. (It’s just like a Jane Austen novel.)

Meanwhile, back at the fix-it shop, Goober laments the fact that he doesn’t have the nuggets to ask Millie to the dance. Emmett suggests that he write a letter asking her to the Ball, but because Goober can’t read or write anything past the level of a comic book he cajoles Emmett into doing it for him. Keep in mind, of course, that the last time Emmett had to seriously think about chasing women was back when Teddy Roosevelt was in the White House, as witnessed by the letter he’s written (Goober hands the missive to Sam in the town council office, asking him to read it out loud):

SAM: Uh…”my deep regard for you is such that my feelings have become—as Shakespeare once said—‘a fever in the mind’…”

GOOBER: To me, that’s where he starts goin’ overboard…

SAM: “I am emboldened to ask the pleasure of your company…so, if you should deign to honor my humble request I will evermore remain your ardent admirer”…oh, yeah…yeah, I agree with you, Goob…all you really need is a straightforward letter…

…and that’s when Goober hits Sam up with the request to be his Cyrano de Bergerac via written request—because let’s be honest…if he uses Emmett’s letter Millie will think he’s as gay as a French tangerine. Sam amiably agrees to put thoughts to paper on his friend’s behalf…but when Goob tells him that the recipient of this mash note will be Millie, the town council head is a bit crestfallen. (Sam was trying to reach Millie at the bakery via Mayberry Bell to ask her out before he was interrupted by Goober’s arrival.) He tries to cover up his disappointment by asking: “You really go for her big, huh?” “Real big,” a grinning Goober assures his newly-designated patsy. Sam tells Goober he’ll type up the letter and he can just make his “X” sign it…

Sam is busily typing away when he gets a call from Howard that threatens to take him away from doing Goober’s dirty work…so he puts out the old familiar “Back in 5 minutes” sign and heads out. (With the amount of time the principals on this series spend in that fix-it shop of Emmett’s, it’s safe to assume that everybody in town has one of those damn signs.) And who should come moseying down Mayberry’s main thoroughfare from the opposite direction but the object of both Sam and Goober’s affections—Millie Swanson herownself. Ms. Swanson, apparently uninformed of the “back in five” concept, gingerly opens the door to Sam’s office…almost as if she expected him to leap out from behind a file cabinet, yelling: “Back in five minutes…? Just kidding!!!” She wanders around the office like a proper snoop…and zeroes in on the letter Sam left in the typewriter to move this clumsy plot along. She resists temptation to read the missive…for about fourteen seconds, and then it’s Katy-bar-the-door…

SAM (voice over): Dear Millie…I’m sure it often happens that a person who has felt strongly about someone for a long time…keeps his feelings to himself for fear of being turned away and made to look foolish…and I know that I run that risk by writing you this letter…but I’ll just have to take that chance…if you have no plans as yet…

That’s as far as Sam got with the Goober letter…but for Millie, that’s plenty. She’s as giddy as a kid on Christmas morning, and she grabs Sam’s name plate from his desk and plants a big kiss on it…and then dances about the room like a demented Disney heroine…ah, love. Just at that moment, Sam returns from his errand to find Millie waiting for him in the office. She gives him eighteen dollars in ticket money and squeals “Goodbye!” to him twice before ski-bopping out the door. Sam stands there with a puzzled look on his face.

The scene shifts to Boysinger’s, where Millie is so distracted by the prospect of a little Sammy lovin’ that she’s unable to do simple math in the presence of her friend Dorothy (Stefanianna Christopherson—the voice of Princess Dawn on Here Comes the Grump and the original Daphne Blake on Scooby Doo, Where are You?). The tension is broken with the arrival of Mailman Jimmy, who hands Millie what she’s been waiting for…and she rips open the letter, reading it out loud:

MILLIE: He is asking me to the dance…listen…”If you have no plans as yet to go the Harvest Ball this Saturday…perhaps you would consider going with me…” (giggling) “I’ll wait to hear from you…sincerely…” (She stops suddenly…)

DOROTHY: What’s the matter?

MILLIE: Goober Pyle…

DOROTHY (happily): Goober? At the gas station?

No…Goober at Goldman Sachs…ditz…

DOROTHY: Oh, he’s very sweet…

MILLIE (sadly): I don’t understand…unless he must have been writing it for Goober…

DOROTHY: What?

MILLIE: Oh…n-n-nothing… (She folds up the letter and wipes away a tear…) nothing…

DOROTHY: You’re going to accept, aren’t you?

MILLIE (resignedly): Why not…?

DOROTHY: Oh, I know you’ll have a wonderful time…Goober’s always so…pleasant…

Girlfriend, he reeks of gasoline! And as the sounds of the swinging saxophone of Carl Benson’s Wildcats fills the Harvest Ball hall, the upper dregs of Mayberry society are present and accounted for. Howard introduces his newest conquest, Grace (Pat Carpenter), to Sam, who greets her warmly. “Gee, the band sounds real good,” observes Howard. “A lot more body than last year.” Howard then grabs his partner and heads out in the direction of the dance floor, because it’s the kiss of death in Mayberry to be too chatty with a guy who couldn’t get a date.

Goober and Millie arrive at the Ball…and by the merest of coincidences (and the fact that she already had a speaking part), Dorothy is taking up the tickets. Millie is sweet enough to offer to fill in for her friend in case Dorothy wants to take a turn on the floor later on—but she’s not fooling anybody…she’s being escorted by the village idiot, and would rather people not stare.

Emmett’s only been waltzing for one dance and he’s already pooped, much to Martha’s dismay. The couple are joined and greeted by Goober and Millie, and then Goober calls out for Sam to come over and join them, setting in motion an awkward moment waiting to happen. But the Wildcats have launched into another number, and it’s time for Goober and his date to get down with their bad selves on the dance floor. Sam asks Martha if she would like to boogie, an idea Emmett heartily endorses. Goober dances up a storm as if he were an epileptic trying to stamp out a forest fire…and Sam and Martha look over to see that Emmett high stepping with a sweet young thang. “He’s never danced that way with me,” Martha grumbles to her partner. “Must have gotten his second wind” is Sam’s only defense…I’m sure Mayberry’s divorce attorney will be getting a call in the a.m.

SAM (showing Martha to a chair): Thank you, Martha…

MARTHA: It was a pleasure… (Emmett makes his way over to where Sam and Martha are standing, mopping his face with his tie…) Well, I hope you enjoyed yourself…

EMMETT (laughing): We-e-e-ll…she’s…uh…a very good customer at the shop…it’s something I had to do…

Speaking of the shop…I hope you didn’t get rid of that old Army cot, ‘cause I have a sneaking suspicion that’s where you’ll be bunking tonight, Clyde. Goober and Millie venture over to join the others, and when Goob asks his date if she like some punch she doesn’t hear him because she’s too busy staring at Sam. Millie acquiesces to a thirst, and when Goober goes off in search of a beverage for his squeeze Emmett seizes the day and suggests that Sam and Millie take a turn on the floor. “Goober will be right back with the punch,” Millie alibis…but Emmett isn’t buying her bit o’blarney. “That’s a pretty long line over there,” he observes. “I’ll tell him I gave you my permission.”

And having received Emmett’s blessing, the mating dance commences. Out on the dance floor, Howard is sweet-talking his date with promises of heading up to Myers’ Lake after the dance…I just hope she’s got a can of Mace handy. Goober, on the other hand, has no sooner poured a couple of cups of punch when from his point-of-view he notices Sam and Millie in mid-waltz, staring into each other’s eyes like a pair of moony-eyed teenagers.

Now, Goober may be an idiot…he may be stunted intellectually…he may be Mayberry’s buffoon-in-residence…he may be…where was I going with this? Oh, right—Goober’s an imbecile, but he’s certainly no fool…he’s also no good at being noble, and can see that it doesn’t take much that the problems of three people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world. When Sam and Millie finish their dance, Goober tells his date that he’s feeling sick after eating a large dinner and that he needs to go home…he also asks Sam to see that Millie gets home okay. Goober heads for the dance hall exit, but Sam follows to confront him about this sudden “illness” that’s come over Goob (you do not get to be head of the town council in Mayberry by not seeing through a gas pump jockey’s painfully transparent ruse):

SAM: Goober…Goob…are you maybe angry with me because I danced with Millie?

GOOBER: Gosh, no…but I decided to face facts…

SAM: Facts?

GOOBER: Yeah…you know, when two people are right for each other there’s a certain look that passes between ‘em…you can see it clear cross the dance floor…it’s a look like…well, like when you and Millie are dancin’…

SAM: Aw, now Goob…you know I wouldn’t do anything…

GOOBER (interrupting): Oh, she’ll never have that look for me…maybe some girl will…someday…not Millie…I’ll see ya…

Okay, so it ain’t Casablanca…but it would appear that Goober is getting on that plane. Nah, I’m just kidding about that…he ends up leaving the hall and once outside, he spots Dorothy seated on a bench at the bus stop. She tells him that since all the tickets have been taken up that’s her cue to head for home—and of course, Goober explains his departure with the “I’m-so-sick” crapola he gave Sam and Millie. He then notices that Dorothy is giving him “that look”…and he offers to drive her home, beaming that “I suddenly feel a whole lot better.” Sam and Millie are in the process of going after Goober…but upon seeing that the Goob has got himself quite the consolation prize (sure…Millie may be hot but Dorothy’s no slouch in the cute department) the couple head back inside—still doing that Jane Austen-shtick of calling themselves “Miss Swanson” and “Mr. Jones.”

In the coda to this episode, Sam enters Emmett’s shop…where we find Emmett fixing a music box and Howard rifling through the newspaper. Sam is there to take down the Harvest Ball poster, remarking that he “might as well save these for next year.”

EMMETT: You know, that was the best Harvest Ball we ever had…

HOWARD: Yeah, I’ll go along with that…

SAM: Yeah, everybody seemed to have a great time…

EMMETT: Hey, where’d you disappear to, Howard?

HOWARD: Well, after the dancing was over…Grace and I took a little spin up to Myers’ Lake…

…and her body was never recovered. Howard then asks what became of Goober, and Sam replies that the man whose girlfriend he macked onto wasn’t feeling well. “That’s funny,” muses Emmett. “We saw him later at the diner with that girl Dorothy.”

“Hey…a new twosome, huh?” is Howard’s leering response. But who saw Millie home, Howard wants to know. It is at that point that Sam fills his friend on the details that he escorted Miss Swanson safely to her domicile, agreeing with Howard that “she’s a very nice girl.” (And a tigress in the sack, though a gentleman never reveals the details…)

So how does Howard know Millie is “a very nice girl?” Earlier in this episode, when he tells Emmett about Goober’s interest in the bakery doyenne Emmett remembers: “Hey—you used to go with her, didn’t you, Howard?” “Yeah,” Howard smiles. “We were quite an item as they say in the columns, but…well, we decided it would never work out on a long-term basis, you know…” (Yeah, I’m sure that whole “living with your Mother” thing never entered into it.)

But those parties interested in the Howard-Millie saga must return to the halcyon days of The Andy Griffith Show, as their steamy romantic story is told in two episodes: “Howard’s Main Event” (10/16/67) and “Howard and Millie” (11/12/67). The latter episode is particularly amusing because it is revealed that Millie hails from Wheeling, West Virginia—she accepts Howard’s marriage proposal and the two of them, with Andy and Helen as best man and maid of honor, take a train trip to Wheeling where they’ll join her parents. At one point during the trip, Howard is meticulously planning the details of their honeymoon:

HOWARD: Okay…let’s run it up the flag pole and see how it sounds… (He takes out a pad of paper from his suit jacket)

MILLIE (giggly): Oh, I know it’s going to be wonderful…

HOWARD: Now, after the reception in Wheeling…we’ll catch the 4:45 for Morgantown, arriving at 6:08…just in time for a wash-up and a leisurely dinner and then…on out to their annual King Arthur Pageant… (To Andy and Helen) We’re lucky in hitting the right week for that…

Faithful TDOY readers have heard me speak often of my days in exile in Morgantown (from 1992 to 2000), so I found that dialogue exchange a bit risible (though to my knowledge, the “King Arthur Pageant” was a fictional creation of Joseph Bonaduce, the writer of the “Howard and Millie” episode). But one thing remains a mystery: in both of these Andy Griffith Show episodes, Millie’s last name is Hutchins…not Swanson. Is there an explanation for this? That’s up to television historians—and influential boob tube bloggers—to decide.

Mayberry Mondays #1: “Andy and Helen Get Married” (09/23/68, prod. no. 0101)

It was a spring day in March of 1963 when the sheriff first made her acquaintance—the circumstances of their meeting having been dictated by his young son’s refusal to do his history homework. She came charging into his office located in that sleepy little North Carolina town with blood in her eye, demanding to know why he wasn’t more supportive of her efforts to impart a little scholastic knowledge in his offspring.

His first words to her were: "You ain't, uh...you ain't Miss Crump...?" (He had envisioned the schoolteacher as being somewhat older, owing to the fact that his son not-so-affectionately referred to his instructor as “Old Lady Crump.”) Hardly what one would categorize as smooth talk…but with the passage of time (and his success at convincing his progeny of the importance of learning American history), he became more self-assured (he even walked her home shortly after their first meeting!) and the two of them began a whirlwind courtship. From that moment on, Helen Crump became Sheriff Andy Taylor’s “steady”…accompanying him to movies, dances, dinners and picnics. Sometimes the two of them would date in tandem with Taylor’s loyal (if bumbling) deputy, Barney Fife…who would usually be escorting the mysterious female known only as “Thelma Lou.”

Five years after their first meeting, Andy and Helen decided to make the whole thing legal…and while we never saw him propose to his eventual wife, we were honored to be among the invitees to their nuptials—telecast on the premiere episode of Mayberry R.F.D. Before the wedding, however, Sheriff Taylor’s friends threw him a bachelor bash that you just know was a pretty wild affair. (They had macaroni and potato salad, for starters.) Wild, if intimate—only the crème de la crème of Mayberry’s leading lights were in attendance: county clerk Howard Sprague, gas station magnate Goober Pyle, fix-it savant Emmett Clark…and the head of the town council hizzownself, Sam Jones:

SAM: Somebody once said that the perfect bridegroom at a wedding should be like the garlic in a spaghetti sauce…present, but not too noticeable…so, if he’s going to be in the background at the church on Saturday—it’s only right that he should have his moment in the spotlight here tonight… (He raises his glass as in a toast) Gentlemen…the groom…

(The bachelor party attendees, who are situated on both sides of a long dining table, stand up with glasses raised as the camera cuts to the individual seated at the other end…Sheriff Andy Taylor, who stands up, smiling…)

ANDY: Thank you, Sam…everybody…this has been a…a great evening, and I appreciate it…that is, somebody once said—probably that same feller who knew so much about grooms—he said his bachelor party got his marriage off to such a slam-bang start the next fifty years were all downhill… (The attendees laugh at this observation…) Now, great as this evening’s been, if, uh…if I know the lady I’m marrying…and I should…the years ahead are going to be no letdown…and again…thank you…

The festivities conclude with a rousing rendition of For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow because you sort of get the feeling that the stripper who was supposed to jump out of Andy’s cake probably cancelled at the last minute (having to work a double shift at the diner). Later, over coffee, Andy and his friends discuss his honeymoon (they’re off to Florida; Howard tells Andy that he shouldn’t miss the wildlife sanctuary in Orlando, a place he and his mother attended during a 1962 holiday) and the fact that Goober will be “taking over” while Mr. and Mrs. Taylor are visiting the Sunshine State. (“Well, we’re safe at last,” observes Emmett, Mayberry’s resident rain cloud.) Andy’s marriage, unfortunately, will be dictating major changes in the life of his aunt/housekeeper, Beatrice “Bee” Taylor:

SAM: Aunt Bee and Opie going to hold the fort while you’re gone, Andy…?

ANDY (after a sigh): As a matter of fact, no…

SAM: Hmm…?

ANDY: Opie’s going on a camping trip with the Hutterfields, and…Aunt Bee is…moving back to West Virginia…

SAM: Moving?

ANDY: Yeah…

SAM: Well, that sounds permanent…

ANDY: I’m afraid it is…

SAM: Oh, no…

HOWARD: Gee, that’s too bad…

ANDY: Yeah, she’s going to live with her sister…Helen and I begged her to stay on with us, but…you know Aunt Bee, she says two women in one household is one woman too many…

As it would happen, Sam’s housekeeper has floated off to Fayetteville (“family problems”) so he’s temporarily without someone to do the cooking and cleaning—and from the looks of his attempts at cuisine (his hamburger and potatoes are practically inedible) a replacement can’t come soon enough. His son Mike expresses a wish for somebody to stay with them “like Opie has.” Sam tells the boy that Opie won’t have his aunt much longer, owing to her plans to move in with her Mountain State sis…but when Mike asks his father why Bee couldn’t stay with them instead, the ol’ thought processes are set in motion:

AUNT BEE: Oh, move out to the farm with you and Mike?

SAM (nodding assent): Right…

AUNT BEE: Hmm…I don’t know…I never lived on a farm before…of course, I’m very, very flattered, but…my plans are all made and my sister Laura is expecting me and…it’s very, very sweet of you to ask me but…no, no—I’m going to live with my sister…

SAM: Well, I understand…it was just a shot in the dark…

The day of the big wedding arrives. Aunt Bee and Opie are seated in the front pew (Bee is upset because she can’t find her “spare handkerchief”; Opie asks his aunt if “she’s going to cry a lot”) and Andy emerges from the rectory with his best man—Barney Fife—in tow. It promises to be a beautiful ceremony (Helen’s father, from Kansas, gives her away)…but things hit a snag when Barney clears his throat after the minister asks if there’s anyone present who can show just cause as to why Andy and Helen should not be wed. (This gives guest star Don Knotts—in his only appearance on Mayberry R.F.D.—the opportunity to do what he does best, his patented nervous shtick.) Barney further complicates matters when he temporarily misplaces the ring during the ceremony (“I knew he’d blow it,” mutters Goober to Howard)…and then for reasons unexplained, breaks tradition by accompanying Andy and Helen as they make their exit down the aisle—hand on Andy’s shoulder, waving to the crowd.

Okay, we’ve accomplished what we’ve set out to do, marry off those crazy kids. The minister talks with Aunt Bee after the ceremony about her decision to relocate, musing that it stems from Bee’s inclination to go where she can be “useful.” As such, Bee is inspired to take Sam up on his offer to move out to his farm to keep house for him and Mike. Things don’t progress as well as one would hope, however; Aunt Bee goes out to the kitchen and is “spooked” by the noises emanating from Irma, the family cow. (Ivan’s note: This woman has family in West Virginia and she’s never encountered a cow before? Look, I’m from WV—it ain’t exactly cosmopolitan.) Furthermore, Bee can’t adjust to the concept of farm-fresh eggs (she’s squeamish about reaching under the chickens) and a “stampede” of cows on the farm makes her downright skittish. So Sam lugs her hefty trunk down from her bedroom when she reverts to her original intention of moving back to West Virginia. While Sam does the heavy lifting, Aunt Bee sadly sits down with Mike (she’s upset about having to leave them both) to look at some photos from the Jones family album:

MIKE: This is my great-great-grandpa…he started the farm… (He turns a page) There’s my great-grandma…she was from Charlotte…

AUNT BEE: Ohhhh…isn’t that a bear?

MIKE: She shot it! (Points toward the window) Right out there in the yard!

AUNT BEE: Heavens! She must have been terrified!

MIKE: Pa says she shot first…and then fainted later…once she talked some Indians out of burning down the house and barn…

AUNT BEE: Indians?

MIKE: Yeah…

AUNT BEE: Ohhh…well, Mike…you come from a very remarkable family…

MIKE: Yeah, I guess so…

AUNT BEE: Women seem to have courage…they didn’t flee in the face of danger, did they?

How dangerous could it be taking an egg from a chicken? (It’s hard to believe that this is the same woman who took flying lessons in an eighth-season episode of The Andy Griffith Show…) Well, it doesn’t take too long to find out—Aunt Bee, inspired by these acts of bravery in the Jones family, marches out of the house and into the barn, where she presumably removes some hen fruit from some unfortunate pullet’s keister. Because back inside, Sam answers a ringing telephone—it’s Andy, calling from sunny Florida…so Sam puts Aunt Bee on the line:

AUNT BEE: Oh, Andy, I’ve got something to tell you…this is the proudest day of my life…

(The scene cuts back and forth between Aunt Bee and Andy and Helen, who are seated in chairs inside their hotel room…)

ANDY: Why…what happened, Aunt Bee?

AUNT BEE: I lifted up a chicken with my bare hands! A live chicken!

HELEN: Well, what is it?

ANDY: She lifted a chicken…

So, okay…maybe it’s not taking down a bear exactly…but baby steps, baby steps. The coda to this episode occurs inside Emmett’s fix-it shop, with Sam reading a postcard from Andy to Emmett, Howard and Goober:

EMMETT: You know…I believe that’s the nicest wedding I ever went to…

SAM: Ah, yeah…it was perfect… (He chuckles) Except for Barney…did you see him trying to find that ring?

(The four of them begin laughing…)

EMMETT: And trying to hold Andy’s hand…

HOWARD: Yeah, and then he walked all the way down the aisle with them…

EMMETT (laughing): He certainly tried to stay close to Andy…

SAM: Yeah…

HOWARD: Hey, Goob…looks like Andy and Helen are still staying at the same hotel…

GOOBER (walking over to get a better look at the postcard): Yeah…Helen and Andy…

The scene then cuts to a shot of Andy and Helen, with the groom serenading his lady love on guitar. His mellifluous voice soon blends with another—that of his ever-present deputy and best man…you-know-who. But back in Mayberry, Sam observes: “I’d say the whole wedding worked out great…Andy got Helen…and Mike and I got Aunt Bee.” (I hope he kept the receipt.)

“Andy and Helen Get Married,” penned by writer John McGreevey, was an auspicious debut for the new Mayberry R.F.D. series—which would soon become the second-most popular sitcom on television at the time (the other spin-off from The Andy Griffith Show, Gomer Pyle, USMC, was first). It also allowed the former Griffith Show star to gradually disappear from Mayberry—Andy would turn up in three additional episodes during R.F.D.’s inaugural season…and make one more appearance in Season Two before it was explained that he and the new Mrs. Taylor had relocated to Charlotte. (This means that the town was now in the hands of part-time sheriff Goober Pyle…and don’t you think Mayberryians were frightened by that prospect.) As for myself, I’ve been curious as to the fate of Opie (this would be Ron Howard’s only R.F.D. guest shot) at this point…his absence was always conveniently explained away but this seems to suggest that Andy and Helen may not have been as attentive parents as one would like to believe.

KenBerry, R.F.D.

Back in April, my good friend Rick Brooks wrote a blog post entitled “The enigma that is Ken Berry”—a tongue-in-cheek musing about how the celebrated television personality “was all over the tube when I was growing up.” Special attention was given to his co-star status on the sitcom Mama’s Family, as well as his guest appearances (Rick counted seven in total) on Fantasy Island.

When I was a mere sprat, F Troop and Mayberry R.F.D. were the two television series that allowed Mr. Berry to display his formidable acting and comedic prowess—and maybe the occasional singing-and-dancing guest appearance on The Carol Burnett Show, which was responsible for his landing the Mama’s Family gig. He was a fixture on several other shows that have since fallen by the wayside: he was Woody on The Ann Sothern Show, Lt. Melton on the short-lived sitcom Ensign O’Toole and Dr. Kapish on the TV version of Dr. Kildare. He even got the opportunity to headline his own series—The Ken Berry ‘Wow’ Show, which I would write about at length were it not for the fact that I don’t remember a damn thing about watching it.

I’ve mentioned in the past that I’m a big fan of F Troop—I’ve seen all sixty-five episodes, due to the fact that Warner Home Video was good enough to release the entire run of the series to DVD. But I’ll be damned if I can remember anything about Mayberry R.F.D. other than the opening credits, in which Berry plays catch with his TV son (Buddy Foster) to the strains of “The Mayberry March”…and the little bastard ends up breaking a window in some storage shed, much to Berry’s chagrin.

“Why do you care about Mayberry R.F.D.?” I’m certain you’re asking at this point—and to be honest, I’m not entirely positive I know myself. If I had to hazard a guess, it’s because that with The Andy Griffith Show and Gomer Pyle, USMC available on DVD, the third series in the “Mayberry” trilogy—R.F.D.—is clearly due for a disc debut as well. But with WHV’s reluctance to release their classic television backlog to DVD (let’s face it—if you owned the rights to series like 77 Sunset Strip or Maverick…would you sit on your hands and let them languish in the vaults?) it looks as if we’ll be old-and-grey before we get access to the show that chronicled what life was like in that famed sleepy North Carolina town once Sheriff Andy Taylor and his new bride Helen (nee Crump) made tracks for greener pastures in Charlotte. (According to the entry for Mayberry R.F.D. on Wikipedia, the show ranks seventh among those series copied from the networks and resold as “rootpeg” DVDs.)

And besides that, I’m looking for a weekly project to embark upon…and watching the entirety of R.F.D. is as good a prospect as any. (Yes, I’m one of those individuals who owns the seventh-ranked show on discs…are you happy that you shamed it out of me?) You have to admit—“Mayberry Mondays” is pretty catchy, alliteration-wise. So consider this the inaugural Mayberry Mondays post…but before we start shoving the show into the DVD player, a little history is in order…

In television history, only three sitcoms—I Love Lucy, The Andy Griffith Show and Seinfeld—finished their final seasons on the air ranked #1 in the ratings for the entire season. As to why Lucy and Seinfeld were still phenomenally popular as they were taking their final bows—well, those are posts for another day (though I wouldn’t hold my breath). Our concern is for The Andy Griffith Show—how did a series that had a phenomenal eight-year run on the air chart its biggest ratings numbers during what would ultimately become its seasonal swan song?

This question is even more intriguing when you stop to consider that if you were poll any fan of Griffith, dollars to donuts would say that they would consider the early black-and-white shows (particularly those co-starring Don Knotts) the peak of the series’ output. The Andy Griffith Show, which debuted over CBS-TV in 1960, was a character-based situation comedy that celebrated small-town life and mined big laughs by having its star play straight man to a hamlet populated by zanies. By 1967, Griffith had become a completely different series—a show that eschewed its broad, farcical beginnings (the Barney Fife years) in lieu of a dry, quirkier humor not unlike that of the radio classic Vic & Sade.

Even the main character of Sheriff Andy Taylor had changed dramatically. In the earlier years of the show, he was a man constantly bemused by the peccadilloes and eccentricities of his town’s admittedly off-the-wall inhabitants. But when the series switched to color, he began to morph into a carbon copy of Oliver Wendell Douglas of Green Acres fame—a man frustrated and visibly annoyed by the zanies in Mayberry (though considerably more subdued than his Acres counterpart). It’s been suggested that a lot of this had to do with star Griffith’s disenchantment with the series and wanting out—but whatever the case, it didn’t do the show any favors. Sheriff Taylor had become the town’s most notorious grouch.

I’ve spent the past few days watching every single episode of The Andy Griffith Show’s final season, thinking that maybe I could delineate something in the shows that would explain the top-ranked popularity it enjoyed as it was ringing down the final curtain. But I’ve come up with bupkis. I’ll be the first to say, of course, that the show was still funny—episodes like “Howard the Bowler,” “The Mayberry Chef,” “Opie’s Drugstore Job,” “Goober Goes to an Auto Show” and “Helen’s Past” can compete with any of the earlier Mayberry classics—and that even though I enjoyed the maturity evident in these later installments, entries that attempt to recapture the flavor of the earlier years, like “Barney Hosts a Summit Meeting,” (the highest-ranked episode in the series’ history) were entertaining as well.

As production on The Andy Griffith Show was winding down, the decision was made to continue on with the good folks in Mayberry despite the star’s clearly-stated intentions to pack it in. So with the 246th episode of the series, “Sam for Town Council” (03/11/68), the groundwork is laid to introduce Griffith’s replacement—Ken Berry, who essays the role of Mayberry citizen/farmer Sam Jones.

“Council” commences with a devastating announcement destined to shake Mayberry’s political landscape, delivered by none other than gas pump jockey Goober Pyle (George Lindsey) himself:

GOOBER: Hey…hey, guess what I just heard…

ANDY: What?

GOOBER: …I’m the first one to know…

HOWARD: Know what?

GOOBER: …he just stopped in for gas and he told me…

ANDY: Who stopped in?

EMMETT: This better be good, the way you’re draggin’ it out…

GOOBER: Herb Bradshaw!

HOWARD: Oh, you mean about him resigning as head of City Council…

GOOBER: Well, how’d you know that?

HOWARD: It was in the paper this morning…

GOOBER: Well, I was the one who got it from him direct…

ANDY: Well, you can’t blame him for moving away…offer like that…head teller of the Raleigh Security Bank…

HOWARD: Yeah…job like that; the world’s your oyster…

ANDY (in agreement): Hmm…

GOOBER: What…?

HOWARD: Just an expression, Goob…

GOOBER: Boy, they’re sure comin’ up with some crazy ones…

Fix-it man Emmett Clark (Paul Hartman) asserts that the departing Bradshaw did a lot for Mayberry, but county clerk Howard Sprague (Jack Dodson) demurs, arguing that the council head practiced the fine art of patronage, parceling out favors to his cronies. Emmett counters that that’s the way the game is played—and when the talk turns as to who will replace Herb, he begins to have visions of a political career…so much so that he announces to Andy, Goober and Howard his intentions of running to fill Herb’s vacancy. “I think it’s a man’s duty to serve when he’s called, “ Emmett explains. “Well, who called you?” is Goober’s queried response.

The reaction to Emmett’s decision to run as head of city council amongst his friends is—well, “measured” would be a slight understatement. Actually, it’s “kind of frightening,” in Andy’s opinion—the sheriff opines that Emmett lacks experience, but this could just be a tactful way of expressing that Emmett is a complete doofus and that city government is the last place he should be. (Not that that ever stops anybody in real life.) The three men decide to “caucus” at Andy’s house later that evening to find a candidate that can beat Emmett—and the suggestion that they reach (along with Aunt Bee [Frances Bavier] and Helen [Aneta Corsaut]) is a hero who sneezed and abruptly seized retreat and reversed it to victory…

Whoops! Sorry about that…wrong sitcom:

HOWARD: …I’ve been going over it all morning, and there’s one name that’s a real standout…a man who’s done his share for the community—he’s solid, and a real hard worker…Sam Jones…

GOOBER: Hey!

ANDY: Now Sam Jones is a good idea!

HELEN: Oh, yes…he’s been a big force on the school board!

HOWARD: And he’s always been active in civic affairs…

AUNT BEE: Yes! And I can promise a Garden Club plurality!

GOOBER: He’s a veteran, too—he’s got a sharpshooter’s medal…that ought to draw votes…

He’s a political hack’s dream come true! The only thing that goes unexplained is how this force to be reckoned with has managed to keep such a low profile in Mayberry for so many years. (Had I been scripting this episode, I would’ve gone the route of having the Jones character just arriving in Mayberry and maybe being comically dragooned into running for office.) But there’s no time to assess the logic of this episode—Goober suggests that he and Howard go out to Casa del Jones to soften Sam up, prompting Howard to pontificate: “A certain amount of preconditioning is always a good tactical maneuver.”

“You always gotta change my words, don’t you,” replies Goober, a little hurt.

Goober and Howard begin Operation Soft Soap on Sam, but before they can go in for the kill Andy arrives on the scene to pop the political question. Sam is a bit reluctant at first, but all three men stress that he’s clearly the best candidate for the job…and he finally agrees. Meanwhile, his worthy opponent, Emmett Clark, is in full swing—putting up banners and treating the voters to cookies and lemonade. But when his friends tell him that they’ve recruited Sam to run against him, a rift naturally results…to the point where Emmett puts the kibosh on Goober’s snagging a cookie, informing him: “Those are for my real friends.” “Boy, politics can really get dirty,” returns the Goob.

As the campaign gets underway, it would seem that Emmett has the inside track if only because he’s borrowed a page or two from the Herb Bradshaw playbook by promising favors to potential voters: arranging to have the town’s bus stop moved to outside the diner to beef up the establishment’s business; moving the Cub Scouts meetings back to the school, etc. This “one-hand-washes-the-other” method of campaigning is frustrating for Sam—“That’s the very thing we’re trying to keep out of the government,” he explains to Andy. But as difficult as this effort not to promise the voters anything would be to believe in real life, Sam emerges victorious on election night, trouncing Emmett by 405 votes…and Emmett takes his loss in stride. Unfortunately for Sam, his supporters—Goober, Howard…even Aunt Bee, who tries to bribe him with a homemade pie—begin to hammer him with requests to “do them a solid.”

ANDY: You know, Sam…I’ve been in public office a long time myself, and I’ve been faced with that same problem…and you know what happens to people sometimes, they get confused with the meaning of favoritism…sometimes they think that favoritism is anything somebody else gets…

SAM: Hmm…anything somebody else gets, huh?

ANDY: Yeah…

SAM: Yeah…well, I guess it’s…just going to be part of my job to convince folks that what’s best for all is also best for the individual…

ANDY: I think you can handle that, Sam…

That’s easy for you to say—you’re not replacing the star of a number-one rated situation comedy, law enforcement boy…

The Sam Jones character appears in three additional Andy Griffith Show episodes—the first of these three, “Opie and Mike” (03/18/68), tells the tale of Sam’s young son (the “Mike” of the title) and his subsequent hero-worship of Andy’s son when Opie stops a bully (Russell Shulman) from pummeling young Master Jones at school. “A Girl for Goober” (03/25/68) puts Sam only on the periphery of the plot, choosing to concentrate instead on the hapless auto mechanic and his attempts to romance a female doctor (Nancy Malone) in charge of a computer dating service.

It’s the final episode of The Andy Griffith Show—fittingly titled “Mayberry R.F.D.” (03/25/68)—that allows Sam to grab the baton from Sheriff Andy Taylor and become the focal point of the spin-off to follow. But this pilot—written by Griffith script consultant Bob Ross—spotlights a situation that, curiously enough, is abandoned once the official R.F.D. series gets underway.

The plot revolves around Sam’s old war buddy Mario Vincente (Gabrielle Tinti), whom has been asked by Sam to venture to Mayberry and help out on the vast Jones estate. The wacky complications ensue when Mario invites his affectionate sister Sophia (Letitia Roman) and non-English speaking father (Bruno Della Santina) along for the ride—and it’s not hard to guess what kind of culture-clash craziness erupts from this arrangement (Papa Vincente cracks up the tractor, Sam’s housekeeper [Almira Sessions] ups and quits, etc.). Sam decides to evict the family Vincente from his bucolic environs and banish them to a similar ranch in Mt. Pilot (owned by an Italian family who would provide a more suitable surroundings)—but he becomes overcome with a mixture of emotion and guilt at a town meeting where Mayberry’s denizens are clutching the Vincentes to their communal bosom, and decides that maybe he can make the arrangement work after all.

So does Mayberry R.F.D. become a show in which a North Carolina farmer and his son must bridge the cultural gap between them and an Italian family unaccustomed to small-town ways? No, it does not—the Vincentes disappear before the first official installment of R.F.D. and for all intents and purposes are never heard from again. But the series does manage to tie up an important loose end or two, and when Mayberry Mondays officially begins next week…you’ll understand in more detail my cryptic statement.