“Is it bigger than a breadbox?”

The night that I wrestled with the meshuggeneh desktop computer—the one that eventually had to be hauled into the repair shop so that the hard drive could be replaced—I was stuck for something to do while the diagnostic tests were running, so I grabbed the bedroom TV remote and started in with the channel surfing.  Imagine my delight when I learned that DISH has added a new channel to its lineup: BUZZR (channel 245), the Fremantle Media-owned subchannel that offers up classic game shows to those couch potatoes jonesing for a fix of Match Game or Family Feud.  Wikipedia says that DISH added BUZZR in May of this year but I’m still a little skeptical about that only because I go “round the horn” on a frequent basis if I can’t sleep at night, looking to see if I can find anything that won’t require a lengthy time investment.  It seems to me I would have come across BUZZR sooner, but…what the hey.

I’m not a big game show fan as a rule.  I watched a lot of them as a kid, and then eventually grew to understand that most of them are vacuous, insipid, and a clear threat to my logging as many classic movies under my belt before I’m summoned to that Great Movie Palace in the Sky.  Still, I have a soft spot for the panel shows of the classic TV era like What’s My Line?, I’ve Got a Secret, and To Tell the Truth…because there are celebrities on these vintage telecasts that are idolized by your humble narrator like Fred Allen (a panelist on Line from 1954 until his death in 1956) and Henry Morgan (Secret).  The Game Show Network used to run these repeats in the 1990s until Sony’s contract ran out…but by that time, GSN was starting to shift toward their own homegrown programming anyway.  (This resulted in people of my vintage reclining in our porch rocking chairs and grumbling about how great things used to be “back in the day.”  “Remember when AMC and TVLand used to be good?  Those were the days…”)

I can’t quite put my finger on it…but something tells me that unless you subscribe to one of DISH’s major packages (America’s Top 200, America’s Top 250, etc.) BUZZR isn’t going to be around Rancho Yesteryear for long.  (We have the Flex package, see, which—thanks to member of the TDOY faithful Barry—allows us to get channels we’ll actually watch and insulates the ‘rents from any potential danger resulting from my succumbing to The Greatest Cable Channel Known to Mankind™ withdrawal and running after them with a butcher knife.  Okay, I am kidding about that.  Nobody runs in my family unless we’re chased.)  So I am currently DVRing every episode of Truth, Secret, and Line that I can lay my hands on; it will make marvelous filler for when I’m dubbing off movies to discs.  That’s three down and seven to go…Arlene?

Color my world

The post you’re reading now was composed on Wednesday evening of the previous week—and before I begin, I apologize to everyone who may have already been clued into this news (I talked about it on Facebook…but not everyone in the TDOY faithful is into the whole [anti]social media thing); an article that I read at the MeTV website sort of planted the seed of inspiration, and I knew I needed to cobble together something fast and economical because of the weekend busyness.

Back about this same time last year, I mentioned that our DISH network system started carrying WGTA (channel 32), a local TV station in Toccoa (the “GTA” stands for “Greenville to Atlanta”) …and because WGTA’s programming consisted of the substations Heroes & Icons (32.1), Decades (32.2), and Movies! (32.3), our DISH had the full Heroes & Icons lineup—a rarity in the world of DISH, since they don’t usually carry substations.  In January of this year, there was an announcement that MeTV would be available on our DISH Channel 32 starting March 25, because WSB-TV—which originally carried MeTV as a substation—had dropped it, switching to Escape.  (And not the good kind—“designed to free you from the four walls of today.”)  The addition of MeTV as a WGTA substation meant all the other substations moved down a peg in terms of OTA (off the air)—Heroes & Icons is now 32.2, Decades 32.3, and so on.

The news that MeTV would once again be available in the House of Yesteryear was, as you may have guessed, warmly welcomed; sure, I experienced a small amount of initial disappointment (I was only a handful of episodes from a complete collection of Broken Arrow) that gave way to me being extremely jazzed because MeTV offers a good deal more variety in their classic TV programming.  (Also, too; I would gain access to reruns of Our Miss Brooks and 77 Sunset Strip—two series not yet released to DVD.)  I’m not happy that these shows are heavily edited in order to cram in the commercials my father constantly bitches about…but a thirsty man never turns down a glass of water.  I’m not joking about the ads on MeTV, by the way; I tried to persuade His Lairdship to start watching Gunsmoke on MeTV at 1pm EDT weekdays because they show two of the half-hour episodes back-to-back and he’s seen all of the color hour-long episodes they run on TVLand at that same hour.  (He claims he hasn’t…but this is incorrect, because I’m usually in the living room with him and I know I have.)  He gave up after one thirty-minute episode.  “Too many commercials,” he griped.  (I’ve been away from TVLand too long—I was not aware they were now ad-free.)

The amusing thing about MeTV is that on their current schedule, they run back-to-back episodes of The Andy Griffith Show at 8pm EDT weekdays (7pm EDT Sundays)—but only in selected areas.  If they’re running TAGS on another station in your viewing area, MeTV substitutes those reruns with…wait for it…Mayberry R.F.D.  (“Every time I think I’m out—they pull me back in!”)  Now comes an announcement that the network is going to work the TAGS episodes from 1965-68 into the rotation.  That’s right.  The color episodes.  The Mayberrys That Dare Not Speak Their Name.

I know many people—I think we even heard from them in the comments section when I was doing the Mayberry Mondays posts—who will not only refuse to watch The Andy Griffith Show in color…they vehemently deny the period ever existed.  And I get this—I really do.  There are a lot of TAGS episodes from the color era—a lot of episodes—that clearly illustrate that sitcom was running on fumes once Don Knotts said “I’m off like a prom dress.”  I think Don’s departure is the chief explanation for the hostility toward the Mayberry color era—replacing the Barney Fife character (even though Knotts returned on several occasions in a guest-star capacity) with that doofus played by Jack Burns was an idiotic decision that would not be equaled until they rolled out New Coke.  And I say this as a guy who likes Jack Burns…I just believe his "Warren Ferguson" was not a good fit where Mayberry was concerned, and in the MeTV article (“The Color Seasons of ‘The Andy Griffith Show’ are Great and Here’s Why”) the author amusingly notes “the character only appears in 11 episodes before mysteriously vanishing to wherever Chuck Cunningham went.”

The article makes some good arguments…and some not-so-good.  Their first bullet point, “Howard Sprague is a wonderfully milquetoast character,” is the strongest argument they could make (I’m going to assume that’s why it was first); it’s no accident that, as I have stated in the past, Howard is usually at the center of the one laugh-out-loud moment in every episode of Mayberry R.F.D.…and the subject of that show’s funnier episodes (“The Panel Show,” “The Caper,” “The Mynah Bird,” etc.).  My fellow Facebook denizens and I discussed this article a bit, with many of MeTV's points greeted with all the enthusiasm of drinking warm beer.  I believe it was Andrew “Grover” Leal who had his flabber gasted at #4, “Road Trips”—personally, I didn’t have a problem when Andy, Opie, and Aunt Bee made the trek to Hollywood…because if it was good enough for Lucy and Ricky Ricardo, it was good enough for the Taylors.

The only item on the MeTV list that found me searching for where in my skull my eyes had rolled to was #7, “Aunt Bee Gets to Do a Lot More.”  Mr. Leal persuasively argues: “[They] were trying too hard to fill the ‘Barney does something wacky’ gap,” and I have to agree (while at the same time believing “The Mayberry Chef” to be one of the stronger final season episodes).  I might be persuaded to side with MeTV if I stopped to consider that with every “wacky” Aunt Bee installment that meant less time spent with Mayberry’s resident fix-it savant and wife-batterer, Emmett Clark.  As I told Facebook chum Jason Beard: “…I have stared into the R.F.D. abyss, and I know that even on its worst color-saturated day TAGS was better.”

I think that last part might be the number one reason I’m not as filled with revulsion with a color Mayberry as some.  You see (this is the portion of the blog where I tell a sad childhood story—please, no tears), we didn’t get a color TV set until 1976.  Mayberry was always in black-and-white when I was a kid.  Sure, some of town’s residents either vanished (Otis, Ernest T.) or moved away (Barney, Floyd), but for the younger Ivan, that sleepy little North Carolina hamlet remained in its monochromatic state until the day my father decided that color TV was no longer a fad and was here to stay.  (Yes, he never misses an opportunity to ride me about my love of black-and-white TV shows and movies—completely missing the irony that my childhood might have had something to do with that.)

So bring on the color episodes of The Andy Griffith Show, MeTV.  The channel is also running announcements of the return of Rhoda (yay!) and Remington Steele (snore) …I just hope this isn’t going to interfere with my burgeoning Our Miss Brooks collection.

The state of the blog (with fabulous prizes!)

It seems like every time I return to the blog after an extended absence I always find myself profusely apologizing for that absence.  So I won’t ignore tradition, and I’ll get the act of contrition out of the way: mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.

The disappearance of posts for over two months can be attributed to a number of factors…but chiefly among them is that I have been sidelined with a lack of motivation.  A few years back, I made a casual observation that with the onslaught of the social media phenomenon, the art of blogging was in danger of being threatened; platforms like Facebook and Twitter allow individuals to accomplish pretty much the same as a blog post without having to expend a great deal of energy.  (And for someone like me—who has raised inactivity and laziness to an art form—it’s a siren song that’s mighty hard to resist.)

I don’t want to sell myself short, however: I’ve kept in the game with both blogging for Radio Spirits and my “Where’s That Been?” column at ClassicFlix…so don’t pour salt on this slug just yet.  But both of these (plus the lucrative liner note projects for RS) do keep me occupied—here’s an example: I had wanted to contribute to the Classic Film and TV Café’s “National Classic Movie Day” blogathon in May…but that event coincided with my wrapping up some liner notes for a Green Hornet set (which you should check out—it contains a number of uncirculated episodes), and when I completed that I was just too wiped to work on anything else.  (So a “mea culpa” to friend Rick for bailing on that.)

As such, until I can get back into the swing of blogging again, this post will be a “catch-up” on the comings and goings here at Rancho Yesteryear.  As the cliché goes—there’s good news and bad news.  The jubilant bulletin is that my sister Kat and her family have relocated to North Carolina (after spending the past three years in the Pacific Northwest); stemming from the fact that her partner has obtained gainful employment in the Piedmont.  To say that my mother did cartwheels (and with her recent back surgery, this was a revelation) at these developments would be an understatement, since she has missed her grandson so.

To a dee-luxe apartment in the sky.

Speaking of my nephew, he has just returned from a two-week engagement at summer camp…where it appears that every photo of him taken during that experience found him participating in some sort of water activity.  (I joked to his moms that they might want to check between his fingers and toes for webbing.)  He talked non-stop for two hours on the drive home to the new Double K Ranch, then crashed hard in the last hour.  Davis has also apparently developed a taste for Cheerwine, the bubbly cherry soda concoction that has been a regional favorite since 1917 (though it can also be purchased in other sections of the U.S. of A.)

Sister Kat hasn’t made the complete transition to NC yet; she will finish up her camp director duties for the summer and then…quien sabe?  Seriously—Mom asked her what her plans were and Kat replied: “I don’t know…but at least my hair will be perfect.”  (This is a reference to the fact that during her sojourn in the PNW, she searched high and low for a decent haircut; she missed the stylist in Athens who maintained her perfect coif, and now will have the opportunity to continue her patronage since the salon is a little closer to her new address.)

Sadly, into every life a little rain must fall.  (This is the “bad news” portion of the post, so if you want to skip the next seven paragraphs to get to the swag giveaway I won’t think any less of you.)  Los Parentes Yesteryear and I just recently celebrated our first year anniversary of moving to Pixley Winterville, and the latest bill from DISH confirmed what we had been dreading for some time: they are raising the rate on our service.  (Gigantically, as character veteran Don Barclay might say.)  Since the ‘rents and I are all subsisting on what is often referred to as “fixed incomes,” there just wasn’t going to be any way of reconciling such an increase in the family budget.  (I have railed about this in the past, as you may well be aware, but it bears repeating: both the cable TV and satellite companies are staffed with human-weasel hybrids.)

I only wish mi padre had let me conduct the negotiations with DISH, which occurred this past Saturday; I had previously done some first-rate horse trading with AT&T U-Verse when they wanted to spike our TV bill (though for reasons that I to this day can’t figure out they kept our monthly service the same once we agreed to put in an extra phone line…that we never, ever used).  But unfortunately, once my father gets on the phone, he’s transformed into one of those unpleasant old men constantly yelling at kids to stay off his lawn.  (No offense, Bill.)  He wound up cutting our TV package to the bare bone, and the two most important casualties were getTV and The Greatest Cable Channel Known to Mankind™.

I’m not going to lie to you.  I was a little pouty at this news.  (Okay, more like a lot pouty.)  I realize that “living high on the hog,” TV wise, is not a viable option for the Yesteryear Trio, but as I explained to Mom once I had finished a few stiff belts: we don’t have too many entertainment options here in B.F.E.  The only other service available to us (we’re too far out for cable, and U-verse doesn’t service our area either) is DirecTV, and they’re an even bigger band of pirates.  At the time I signed us up, I took special pains to explain to her that DISH was probably going to gouge us once the year was out.  She told me—“What else can we do?  We have to have an Internet connection, and we have to have cable.”  (A lot can happen in a year, I guess.)

My Facebook pal Kingo Gondo suggested sometime back that I look into the option of getting an outside antenna so that I could receive those substations DISH refuses to carry (MeTV, Antenna TV, etc.).  I looked into this seconds after I found out about Dad’s DISH dealings.  Helpfully, the website at which I was pricing the antenna directed me to another website that would let me know what stations we would receive.  They ask you: “Will this antenna be installed 30 feet above ground level?”

Since I wanted to avoid those hassles (I had planned on getting an indoor one) I didn’t check that box…and when I pressed the “send” button, I learned that we would only be able to receive one channel.  Okay, says I, I’ll try it again—maybe I can con someone into installing the antenna outside.  “Send.”  The answer remained…one channel.  That station is WGTA, our Heroes & Icons affiliate…which we get on DISH already.

I probably would have taken this news a little better—oh, who am I kidding; I’m a TCM junkie, and I remember the days when we didn’t have it…they were dark ones indeed—were it not for the fact that most of the crap my father watches (local news, History Channel, MSDNC) remained intact in the whittled-down package.  What a coinky-dink!  (The ‘rents did lose their beloved Braves games…though an occasional contest will show up on ESPN and “Big Fox” every now and then.  To say that my mother was pissed doesn’t even begin to cover it, though.  (Earlier today, my father switched over to TVLand—as is his habit—to watch Gunsmoke reruns and then remembered we said hasta la vista to that channel as well.)

Because I had a little time this weekend to reflect on these developments, I came away with the take that while I’m not jumping for joy at how all this turned out (particularly since I was helping out a few cable/satellite-deprived folks by grabbing and burning to disc programs/movies that had attracted their interest) perhaps there is a silver lining on all this.  After all, it’s not like I’m starved for entertainment around here.  I already socked away a lot of Tee Cee Em/getTV programming on the DVR (I think the gauge was at 49 percent), so there’s that to get through…and I have what scientists have measured as a metric “buttload” of material in the dusty Thrilling Days of Yesteryear archives.  I’m not humblebragging, you understand—it’s just that a lot of these DVDs have yet to be liberated from their shrink wrap; that’s how terrible my habit is.  I’ve been meaning to get the blog up and running again, so this might provide a much needed kick-in-the-pants.

So to celebrate the return of the blog (okay—everybody back to the post!) how about I give out some Radio Spirits freebies?  Back in August of last year, I was tapped to do the liner notes for Suspense at Work—a 10-CD collection of broadcasts from “radio’s outstanding theatre of thrills.”  The shows in this set all have a common theme: they’re set against a background of the workplace, where ambitious individuals resort to murderous mayhem to get ahead in the company…or the mundane monotony of punching a time clock is interrupted by robberies, embezzlement, etc.  You can always count on Suspense for first-rate radio drama, and some of the stars gracing these broadcasts include Bonita Granville, Edmund O’Brien, Ann Blyth, Van Heflin, Ronald Colman, and Richard Widmark.  (I’m partial to “To None a Deadly Drug,” a nail-biter from October 25, 1955 that features OTR veterans like Harry Bartell, Jack kruschen, Barbara Eiler, and Eve McVeagh.)

It’s been 2-3 months since I did a giveaway here at TDOY…so the usual “thirty-day rule” won’t apply here.  What will apply is that if you’d like an opportunity to win one of these sets (I have two to hand out) just drop me an e-mail with “Suspense at Work” in the subject header (that way I know your intentions are honorable, suh, and you’re not some bit of spam from the wrong side of the tracks) at igsjrotr(at)gmail(dot)com.  The deadline for this contest will be 11:59pm EDT next Monday, July 18; I will select two winners via the all-powerful numbers generator at Random.org and inform them of their good fortune so that they can provide me with snail-mail details (so that I might send their swag on its way).  Remember, faithful readers—Thrilling Days of Yesteryear is the phrase that pays!

Here’s what we thought you should know

An e-mail that I received from my saddle pal Toby at 50 Westerns from the 50s last night (he’s also got another blog of interest—more on this in a sec) prompted me to sit down and compose this post, because there are some blogathons around the corner that I thought fellow classic movie/nostalgia bloggers might be interested in…and I always like to give these good people a shout-out when possible.

Our U-Verse system currently doesn’t carry the digital network offering GetTV—which is rapidly making a name for itself as an oasis for folks who treasure old movies but who either can’t afford or avoid on principle ponying up the extra simolians for The Greatest Cable Channel Known to Mankind™.  (GetTV is very similar to MOVIES!...which AT&T U-Verse doesn’t carry, either.  Swine…) The channel is able to draw deep from the extensive film library owned by Sony Home Entertainment, and though there is an Atlanta affiliate that carries the network (WUVG) it’s one of those stations you have to pick up with an antenna.  (Ask your folks what that is, kids.)

Anyway, GetTV—for reasons known only to them—is offering a tribute to the late Mickey Rooney in September…first with a marathon this Labor Day, and then with showings of the Mick’s movies on Thursday nights all month.  Now…keep in mind that since Tee Cee Em pretty much owns the majority of Rooney’s cinematic contributions lock, stock and barrel, the GetTV offerings are going to be along the lines of Sound Off (1952) and Everything’s Ducky (1961)…and I wouldn’t wish films like that on my worst enemy.

Okay, I promised to be positive about this and I see I’ve backslid a bit.  GetTV has partnered with Aurora at Once Upon a Screen, Kellie at Outspoken & Freckled and Paula at Paula’s Cinema Club to honor Mr. R on what would have been his 94th natal anniversary with The GetTV Mickey Rooney Blogathon in September.  (Again, I don’t pretend to understand what motivates these kids…but I don’t blame them—rather a society that tells its youth that the answers are on the MTV video games.)  It’s no secret here at Thrilling Days of Yesteryear that I consider Mickey Rooney to be the celluloid equivalent of prickly heat, but if you’re curious to participate, skate on over to either of those three blogs and present the proper credentials at the window.

Over at Silent-ology (with an assist from Fritzi at Movies Silently), Lea will host The World War I in Classic Film Blogathon, an experiment that’s just what it sounds like—focusing on movies that deal with “The Great War” and optimistically hoping that it will be a learning experience as well.  (Crazy, I know.)  I kind of came to this one late and so most of the features I would have written about had already been snapped up so I decided to sit this one out and just be in the sidelines, rolling bandages.  But if you’re interested…then off with you, my lads and lassies.  (The WWI in Classic Film Blogathon takes place on September 6 and 7.)

On to October!  Kristina at Speakeasy raps the podium for attention with this earth-shattering announcement:

“Sorry to break it to you, but the Hollywood movies you love owe a lot to Canada…”

You do realize your ‘Canadian bacon’ is ham, right?  But it's Sunday and nice out, so I’ll take your word for it…anyhoo, Kristina and Ruth at Silver Screenings will co-host The O Canada Blogathon from October 4-9, focusing on films and movie people with roots in The Great White North.  TDOY has already RSVP’d for this event, and will offer up as its modest contribution an essay on the Technicolor noir Niagara (1953).  Plenty of movies and movies stars up for grabs, though—so if you’re interested click on this linky and sign up.

The last blogathon announcement involves the Toby I mentioned in the opening paragraph, who when not a-ropin’ and a-ridin’ at 50 Westerns chats up non-oaters from the 50s, 60s and 70s at his new blog, The Hannibal 8.  As a blog warming—because he cannot afford pizza and beer once we've volunteered to help move his stuff—Toby is going to host The Jack Webb Blogathon at his new digs from October 17-19.  Any and all things Webb will be the focus of the ‘thon, from his seminal police procedural Dragnet to his cinematic output to any of his other radio/TV offerings like Pat Novak for Hire or Adam-12.  I’ve informed Toby that TDOY is so up for this, and I’ve chosen as my text a look at the film that laid the groundwork for Dragnet, 1948’s He Walked by Night.  I know people like Our Lady of Great Caftan would love to get involved in this, and the rest of you should follow suit as well.

One of the perks of participating in the Classic Television Blog Association’s Summer of Classic TV Blogathon in June was that because it was in partnership with the channel responsible for transforming the once-proud TVLand into one of those bar dames who’ll sing a torch song for the price of a Jell-O shot—I am referring, of course, to the magnificence that is MeTV—public relations rep Melissa Kennedy was nice enough to send all the participating bloggers some swag in the form of a MeTV T-shirt.  But the nicest surprise was, since I was going to give the shirt to mi madre (as you know, most of my clothes come from Tents by Omar), Melissa threw in a MeTV ball cap as well.  So many, many thanks to her.

Melissa also sent me an e-mail announcing the new offerings on MeTV beginning tomorrow (September 1—Central and Mountain individuals click here); sadly, we have one of those U-Verses that refuses to carry the digital substation of WSB-TV that features MeTV (I have spoken on the Twitter machine with AT&T subscribers from other localities, and they tell me they do receive it on their system) so I will miss out on the premieres of programs like CHiPs and Saved by the Bell.  (Yes, that is sarcasm—I’m sorry, Melissa…but this is how TVLand started its decline.)  The curious thing is that MeTV will also introduce The Andy Griffith Show to its programming ranks…but (this is your big but) due to contractual reasons, MeTV can’t air TAGS in every city—so some cities will get in its place…wait for it…

…yes, The Not-Andy Griffith Show, Mayberry R.F.D.  When our Charter first introduced MeTV to its lineup I remember that we were treated to an extra half-hour of The Dick Van Dyke Show on weekday nights because those same contractual reasons kept the network from showing its regularly scheduled offering, Cheers, in Atlanta.  (Not that this is a bad thing, for those people who know how much I worship the Van Dyke show.)  Despite the fact that WATL shows TAGS reruns at 7:30pm weeknightly, WSB-DT (our MeTV affiliate) will be running TAGS at 8 and 8:30pm.  So WSB viewers will be spared lesser Mayberry; I would have bet differently (and lost a substantial amount of money).  Many thanks to TDOY cub reporter Tom Stillabower for giving me the heads-up on the TAGS/RFD situation.

Mayberry Mondays #78: “Emmett’s Invention” (03/29/71, prod. no. 0322)

In the end…it comes to us all.

This week marks the final episode of our three-year blogging experiment entitled Mayberry Mondays, which I began back in May 2010 after being inspired by a post at Cultureshark by my good friend Rick Brooks.  I know some of you are probably thinking: why did it take you so long to finish only seventy-eight episodes?  Well, from December 2010 to February 2012, I took an extended sabbatical (partly because I was burned out—and partly because I misplaced the disc that had “Goober and the Telephone Girl” and I didn’t want to skip over it) but from that point on I did continue the rest of the series when weather (and free time) permitted.

If I may be reflective for just a moment—it hasn’t always been easy.  I don’t think Mayberry R.F.D. is a good show…but I don’t think it’s terrible, either.  It’s just…well, at the risk of wearing out a cliché, “it is what it is”: a bland, boring, and relatively inoffensive (well, through 70s eyes, anyway) program that Nielsen audiences apparently clutched to their bosoms because American Idol had yet to be invented.  Keep in mind, also, that the copies from my collection were bootlegged from TVLand (and in abysmal quality, too)—which means in many instances there’s about three minutes missing from each show (to accommodate extra commercials)…and I’m sure that robbed us all of some grade-A USDA choice comedy, he said, attempting to maintain a straight face.   These episodes were apparently taped during some sort of TVLand “Fandemonium” weekend, which meant having to hear Harry Shearer attempt to do funny voiceovers at the end of each set of episode credits…that’s given me a new reason to hate him.  (Sorry, Shearer fans.)

This week’s episode, “Emmett’s Invention,” isn’t going to be particularly revelatory in the way that we’ve come to expect from series finales—the reason for this I’ll get to at the end of the write-up—but in all honesty, it’s actually fairly representative of your typical R.F.D. outing.  (It just isn’t very good, and in fact makes my Top Ten list of “Episodes to Avoid” at the end of this essay.)  The proceedings begin with an establishing shot of the Mayberry City Council office for the last time, and inside, poor-but-honest-dirt-farmer-turned-town-council-head Sam Jones (Ken Berry) reads a letter while pedantic county clerk Howard Sprague (Jack Dodson) and fix-it savant Emmett Clark (Paul Hartman) look on in astonishment.  (Well, you know what I mean.)

HOWARD: Emmett—do you mean to tell us that someone’s actually interested in purchasing an invention of yours?

“Why, you can barely walk erect!”

EMMETT: Big companies like Amalgamated Dynamics don’t send registered letters just to say “hello”…read it to him, Sam!

SAM: Uh…”Mister Clark…a search of the records by Amalgamated’s patent attorneys has discovered an allowance of patent file number 16222547…issued to one Emmett Clark…April 8, 1932!”

HOWARD: A patent?

(Emmett nods)

SAM (continuing): “We should like to discuss this matter with a view…to acquiring same”…well!

HOWARD: Well!  That is news!

EMMETT: Yeah!

SAM (still reading): “Pursuant to the above I shall be in Mayberry on Wednesday the sixteenth…”

EMMETT: Hey…that’s the day after tomorrow!

SAM: Yeah…uh…”Hoping you will be available to meet with me at that time I am sincerely yours…T.J. Fowler, patent counsel, Amalgamated Dynamics!”

HOWARD: Gee whiz, Emmett!  I’m impressed!

And well you should be!  Both Howard and Sam are amazed that Emmett could even fill out a patent form, and he explains that he’s filed for multiple ones over the years due to his invention hobby.  “Us inventors have got to protect ourselves, you know,” he beams.

SAM: Yeah…well…well, which one is this…it’s 1932, and it’s number 16222547…that ring a bell?

EMMETT: Thirty-two…

SAM: Yeah…

EMMETT: Oh!  That could be my gum-free theater seat…

HOWARD: Gum free?

EMMETT: Yeah…special theater seat I invented…I coated the underside of it so that anyone who stuck a wad of chewing gum on a seat—BOOM!  Dropped right off…

HOWARD: Well…that would mean that it would fall on the floor…what then?

EMMETT: That ain’t my problem…

Every episode…one laugh-out-loud moment.

EMMETT: Maybe it was my magnetic napkin…oh!  No—it could be my automatic goldfish feeder!

HOWARD: That must have been a fertile period…

EMMETT: Oh, I was very hot in the early thirties…

And now that we’ve all put away our lunches because nausea has overtaken us, the conversation continues with Sam’s observation that Emmett should know which invention the company wants to discuss.  “If I had brains enough to invent it, I have brains enough to remember where I put it after I invented it,” Emmett assures him.  (There are no words, friends and neighbors.)

So the scene shifts to Emmett’s fix-it shop, where we find the great inventor carrying box upon box out of his store room, looking inside at each container’s contents and then going back for more.  There is also a great deal of newspaper scattered over the floor, which means one careless match and the insurance money would all be ours.  He pulls a curious-looking object out of one box, which looks like a sugar dispenser, and starts to fiddle with it when bakery doyenne Millie Swanson (Arlene Golonka), all sweetness and light, enters the establishment.

MILLIE: Hi, Emmett!

EMMETT: Oh…how are ya, Millie?

MILLIE: Oh, fine…uh…except for my hair dryer—it won’t work…all it does is blow out cold air, and instead of drying my hair it freezes my head… (She giggles)

Since it’s the last episode and all, I guess I should mention that the crush I had on Millie at the beginning of the series has now dissipated and we’ve agreed to see other people.  There will be individuals who’ll accuse me of being superficial (and there is evidence to support that; after she grew out her first season bob my interest began to wane), and others will ascribe my motives to the fact that she completely ignored a Facebook post I sent her way…but the main reason is that a woman who continues a three-year relationship with a drip like Sam Jones probably has some other mental disorders I’d be wise not to inquire about.  Anyway, Millie and Emmett discuss his big invention news and he tells her he’s having a little trouble locating the gadget he patented because of all the crap he’s collected in the backroom over the years.

You and I and the rest of the people reading this know that Emmett became a cast member on The Andy Griffith Show in its last season, where he became—as commenter rockfish so memorably described him—“the anti-Floyd.”  Yet this R.F.D. scenario seems to suggest that he was around in Mayberry as far back as 1932, and we simply know this not to be so.  At the most, he’s been around four years—so if he got that much junk stored away in that amount of time he might want to contact the Hoarders TV show.

The object Emmett pulled out of the box is actually a salt shaker—or he describes it, “The Sure Shake.”  On paper, it’s supposed to measure out precisely the necessary amount of salt one needs to flavor one’s food…on sitcom, Emmett fails miserably to get it to work.  So he tells Millie that her hair dryer will be ready in a day or two, and she thanks him saying: “I hope you find whatever it is that’s going to make you famous.”

Sam and Howard then walk in—because neither of them apparently works for a living.  Emmett continues to rummage through his crap, and Sam suggests contacting the Patent Office to find out which invention it was.  But there’ll be no need for such correspondence—Emmett finally locates it and brings it out to the counter with a flourish!

SAM: Well…an old wind-up phonograph!

EMMETT: Yeah… (He sets it down)

HOWARD: Yeah, but you didn’t invent the phonograph—that was Thomas Alva Edison!

Edison patented the phonograph.  Knowing what we now know about Edison (a man with the morals of an alley cat), whether he actually invented the phonograph is speculative at best.

EMMETT: I know who invented the photograph!  I sure fixed enough of these babies…people were always winding them up too tight!

HOWARD: Yeah…that’s the trouble with those spring-driven motors…

EMMETT: You see, there’s a long screw that goes into a doohickey in here…I-I took it out and…I got mad and whacked it with a hammer and a chisel…

Unpossible!

EMMETT: …sliced all the threads off one side of the screw…when I put it back, you just couldn’t crank up the spring too tight…

SAM: Well!  How about that!

I could make an observation about the correlation between Emmett and the phonograph being wound too tight…but people will start thinking I have a reputation for meanness.  Howard helpfully points out that many revolutionary ideas have come about by accident—like penicillin and shatterproof glass—and Emmett rhapsodizes how he thought the invention would put him on easy street.  As sitcom luck would have it, he finds the drawing for his invention concealed in a cabinet in the phonograph.

EMMETT: It’s my application—with the drawing and everything!  Let’s see…hey!  See the file number?  (He shows it to Sam and Howard) Same as the letter from Amalgamated…

SAM: Well…

HOWARD: Hey, did you draw this yourself, Emmett?

EMMETT: Oh, no…no…I paid Old Man Talbot ten bucks to do it…he used to teach mechanical drawing at the high school in them days, and he drew it up for me…stuck in a few fancy words…

HOWARD (reading): “Lathe-cut cylindrical screw utilizing a demi-helix as an impediment…hmm!

EMMETT: Pretty fancy, huh?

What navigated Emmett away from the avenue of dream fulfillment was the fact that before his patent came back from the office, America had become infatuated with the electric phonograph.  If it were anybody else but Emmett…this might be a sad story.

HOWARD: And now after all these years…Amalgamated Dynamics has recognized your vision and wants to buy the rights!  Heh…

EMMETT: Yeah…and if the price suits me, I just might sell…I ain’t gonna jump at the first offer—I’ve been waitin’ since 1932…I guess I can wait a while longer…

Emmett cranks up the phonograph and drops the needle, prompting a recording of “I Wanna Be Loved by You” to play.  When Howard expresses amazement in that the phonograph still works, Emmett indignantly shouts: “When Emmett Clark fixes something, it stays fixed!”  (If that were the case, Emmett would have closed up shop years ago.)

The scene shifts to Casa del Clark, where the Laird and Master has returned home and is being helped off with his coat by his long-suffering wife Martha (Mary Lansing).  I’ve mentioned here in the past that Martha is one of my favorite characters (some of the lines she’s delivered in episodes past literally had me on the floor) and I always thought it was a shame she was so under utilized.  (I also feel sorry for her because of my long-held theory that she was a battered wife.)

MARTHA: I’m glad, Emmett…real glad…

EMMETT: Is that all you gotta say?  One of the biggest days of my life and you’re takin’ it as calmly as all I told you is that I made fifty cents fixin’ a toaster…

MARTHA: Now, Emmett…

EMMETT: A big company is after one of my inventions!  I’m finally gettin’ a little recognition!  How many other women do you know that can say their husbands have been contacted…registered mail by Amalgamated Dynamics!

MARTHA: I’m proud of you, dear…

There is then a syndication-mandated edit (though to be honest, I think they just removed the part where Martha runs to the safe room to escape her husband’s wrath) to the council office, where Emmett is helping himself to some taxpayer-funded Sanka.  He proudly boasts to Sam that he’s thinking about setting up a scholarship fund that will inspire other impressionable Mayberry youth to “follow in my footsteps”—i.e., park his butt on a bus bench for the better part of a day.  Howard enters the office, and mentions to Emmett that he was looking for him over at the shop…and Emmett has a line that made me laugh: “Aw, I was in no mood for petty tinkering.”

EMMETT: Hey—Sam tells me that you were gonna write a newspaper story about my invention…

HOWARD: Right!  Yeah…and in doing some research on the yarn, I did a little checking up on Amalgamated Dynamics…

EMMETT: They ain’t bankrupt or nothin’…?

HOWARD: No!  Far from it!  It developed that Amalgamated Dynamics is very big in the space program!

EMMETT: Space?  You mean goin’ to the Moon and Mars and all that?

HOWARD: That’s exactly what I mean!

EMMETT (over his shoulder): You hear that, Sam?  Somethin’ I invented all those years back is gonna help man conquer space…

Well…it was revealed that Goober (George Lindsey) had an older brother who was an astronautics engineering genius.  I suppose lightning could strike twice.  Howard tells Emmett that his editor thinks this story is so important he’s to “give this story all the coverage it deserves—even if it runs over into the recipe page.”

EMMETT: Emmett Clark…space pioneer…

HOWARD: This town’s going to discover it’s got a very important man in its midst!

EMMETT: That’s me—another Thomas Albert Edison!

Ah, nothing beats Emmett when he’s a regular balloon of pomposity.  He’s floating around the fix-it shop, setting up a display of all the inventions from his past like an inventor’s museum…and in walks the pin prick that’s going to deflate him.

The character answers to “T.J. Fowler”…but couch potatoes know him as Bill Quinn, character actor extraordinaire.  This is Bill’s second visit to Mayberry; he earlier played a judge in the episode “Sam Gets a Ticket.”  (Scroll down to the end of that post to read one of the funniest show business anecdotes involving Quinn…who was also Bob Newhart’s father-in-law.)  Quinn is pitch-perfect for this part: Emmett starts in bragging and boasting about his various invention accomplishments and Quinn’s killer deadpan response…

…indicates that he could care less what Emmett did with his spare time.  So he gets right to the point:

FOWLER: We have a standard offer in these cases…

EMMETT: Of course, I’m very honored to think that one of my inventions…a dream that was born here right in this very shop…

Was that when it was still a barber shop?

EMMETT: …is gonna help Man reach the stars…

FOWLER: I beg your pardon?

EMMETT: You know…penetrate the mysteries of outer space?

FOWLER: (sighing) Mr. Clark…perhaps I should have explained…we will not actually be using your concept…

EMMETT (after a pause): You won’t be using it?

FOWLER: No…we’ll be using a device created by our own engineers…

EMMETT: Well…I don’t get it…why did you write to me?  Uh…what are you doing here now…?

FOWLER: Well, let me put it this way…there is a…distant family resemblance between your drawing—submitted in 1932—and a much more sophisticated device, patented by Amalgamated…now in order to avoid the…possibility of future litigation…we’re prepared to purchase the world wide rights to your…um… (Looking at paper) Lathe-cut cylindrical et cetera et cetera…for four hundred dollars…

For those of you who nodded off during the exchange of dialogue between Fowler and Emmett, Fowler is a company shark sent out to neutralize potential nuisance lawsuits.  And I don’t think I’m too far out of line here to suggest that Emmett fits “nuisance” to a “T”.  “Four hundred dollars isn’t too bad for signing your names in two places,” Fowler tells Emmett quietly.

EMMETT: You do a lot of this?  Payin’ off professional inventors?  So they won’t be a bother to the company later on?

FOWLER: Well, it’s…it’s an important part of my job to make what we refer to as these…nuisance settlements…actually, we feel that everybody gains…Amalgamated is secure from courtroom skirmishing, and…you’re four hundred dollars richer…

For the record, $400 back in 1971 would be about $2237 today.  As Emmett starts to sign the contract, he says to Fowler: “I was wonderin’ if I should sign this ‘Emmett Clark—$400 nuisance’.”  (“No, ‘Emmett Nuisance’ is fine.”)

Back from commercial break, a forlorn Emmett is “petty tinkering” in his shop, with Sam and Howard in attendance.  Both men are anxious to hear the skinny on Emmett’s windfall—Howard, as is his comic wont, is carrying a camera around his neck.

SAM: Tell us how you made out with Amalgamated Dynamics!

EMMETT: Oh…ho ho…nothin’ to it…I just signed on the dotted line and Fowler handed over the check…

HOWARD: Boy, I sure would have liked to have a picture of that exchange!

EMMETT: I don’t think Fowler woulda gone for that…

HOWARD: Well, I can still get a picture of you holding the check…

EMMETT (irritated): Like I said, I’m very busy…I got a rush order on this hair dryer—I gotta fix it…

HOWARD: Well, how can a man be thinking of a hair dryer on a historic occasion such as this?  (Gesticulating wildly) Mayberry Man’s Invention Speeds Mankind Into Outer Space!  (To Sam) That’s my headline…

Oh, Howard…you will truly be missed.

EMMETT: Howard…you’re makin’ me sound too important…

HOWARD: Nonsense!  (To Sam)  Success sometimes reveals a hitherto hidden humility in a man, huh, Sam?

SAM: So I’ve heard…

Howard starts goading Emmett into having his picture taken holding up the check…and Emmett, not wanting to reveal to all and sundry that his revolutionary ideas are only worth four hundred smackers, turns the check around so that only he can see the amount.  When Howard protests, Sam points out that no one will be able to tell what the amount is from the newspaper photo anyway.

Emmett poses for a couple of snaps and then insists he has to get back to work.  When Howard presses him for the amount of the settlement, Emmett is reluctant to provide the information—and Sam, sensing that something is not quite kosher in Mayberry, suggests that Howard back off a little since he’s putting Emmett “on the spot.”  Howard reasons that if they do disclose the actual amount, it might set a precedent for future dealings with companies…so he’ll just write “a substantial sum.”

HOWARD: Now…uh…one more thing—I’ve indicated that your invention is going to be used in the space program…

EMMETT: Don’t quote me as saying it’s gonna be used on the space program!

HOWARD: But 95% of Amalgamated’s product is space-oriented…

SAM: Well…th-that’s probably why most of what they do is considered…classified information…

EMMETT: Yeah…that’s right…it’s…it’s top secret!  They don’t want to tip their hand to the competition!

HOWARD: Hey…that’s even more intriguing than specific details!  I think I’m going to file this story with the Raleigh papers!

EMMETT: Howard—nobody in Raleigh is gonna be interested!

HOWARD: Everybody’s interested in seeing talent and patience finally recognized and rewarded!

SAM: Yeah…well…uh…we’ll see you later, Emmett…come on, Howard…

So Sam bum rushes Howard out of the fix-it shop.  Howard is still perplexed at Emmett’s modesty—“The unpredictability of human nature…today of all days, you’d think that Emmett would be strutting and bragging and full of self esteem…”  Sam hasn’t quite doped out why Emmett is acting in such a peculiar fashion, but he definitely knows the big lug has a sad.

EMMETT: Four hundred dollars…that’s what they offered me…take it or leave it…

MARTHA: Well…four hundred dollars—I’d call that a substantial settlement…

EMMETT: I’d call it a slap in the face…they didn’t want my invention!  They just wanted to pay me off like every other crackpot who might cause trouble!

MARTHA: Now you’re not a crackpot…

EMMETT: That’s all you know about it… (Sadly) It ain’t the money that bothers me so much…it’s all the braggin’ I done…like the big story Howard’s writin’ about Mayberry’s inventor…Mayberry’s loud-mouthed nuisance…

Yeah, I’ll bet there are a passel o’people in Mt. Pilot who’ve never heard that story before.  “There’s only one thing to do, Martha,” Emmett laments.  “Close up the fix-it shop and clear out of Mayberry lock, stock and barrel.”  Yes!  This is turning out to be the best R.F.D. ever!

Oh, you know this isn’t really going to happen—though I have to admit, a spin-off entitled Emmett Clark, Public Nuisance wouldn’t be the worst thing to ever hit TV.  We then get a change of scenery—Sam and Millie are at the diner, noshing on a milkshake and…well, it looks like Sam is just having ice cream (if he were drinking a milkshake, he’d need two straws).  Somehow the two of them have learned of Emmett’s payoff--because it’s a small town, it’s probably a secret that didn’t stay kept too long (I’ll bet Martha told a few of her gal pals, laughing her ass off in the process).

MILLIE: I just think it’s plain mean…

SAM: Hmm?  What?  What’s mean?

MILLIE: Well, for Amalgamated Dynamics to treat a nice man like Emmett this way…just downright mean…

SAM: Look…Millie…if some…person had hurt Emmett…then maybe we could sit down and talk about it…but…you can’t just sit down over a cup of coffee with Amalgamated Dynamics…

MILLIE: Well, why not?

SAM: Because it’s too big!  It’s a…huge, impersonal organization…

MILLIE: Well, I’m sorry—I don’t agree with you!  The corporation may be impersonal, but it’s made up of people, isn’t it?

In case you were wondering where Mitt Romney got his “corporations are people, too, my friend” nonsense…it would appear that Millie was one of his advisers.  Here’s where this episode makes a left turn at Albuquerque Fantasyland.  Millie says all Sam has to do is talk with a person at AD, and explain how hurt Emmett is, and the company will kiss it and make it all better.

SAM: Millie—if I thought it would do any good at all I would be more than happy…

MILLIE: They have a plant in Raleigh…I mean, Sam—you think nothing of driving all the way over there to get…parts for your farm machinery…

There’s the tell right there.  Everybody knows that Sam never goes to Raleigh for machinery parts—he goes to Raleigh because too many of the Siler City cathouses know him by first name.  Sam finally acquiesces to Millie’s demands when she accuses him of thinking more about his tractor than Emmett’s feelings.  (That’s why Millie and I are splitting up.  She’s too high maintenance.)  He argues that there’s no way Amalgamated Dynamics is going to take the time to listen to him, but Millie counters: “They’ll be so impressed that you took the time out to drive all the way over there to talk to them that they’ll say ‘By golly, we better do something about this!’”  And they will, too—they’ll give Sam a fifteen-second headstart before siccing the security Rottweilers on him.

Of course, Sam has to ruin all this optimism with a lame crack: “You know something…if we had used feminine logic to get to the moon—we might have gotten there ten years sooner.”  (Oy gevalt.)

The scene then shifts to Sam hauling ass and elbows toward a high security fence, with a pack of security Rottweilers nipping at his heels.  No, I’m sorry—I only wish that had happened.  As sitcom luck would have it, he’s been granted an audience with Mr. Fowler:

FOWLER: The Clark file is closed…we have his signature…he has our check…

SAM: Well…it’s not quite that simple…

FOWLER: Are you a lawyer, Mr. Jones?

“Smithers!  Release the hounds!”  Sam is very quick to deny any ties to the legal profession…he also stays away from bringing up the farming thing, because in a fit of laughter Fowler might press the dog button by mistake.

SAM: You see…Emmett had…such…high hopes when he got your letter, Mr. Fowler…

FOWLER: Well, four hundred dollars seems like a fair settlement…

SAM: Oh, no…no quarrel about the money…

FOWLER: What else is it about?

SAM: Well…Emmett’s…position in Mayberry…

FOWLER: He had a fix-it shop before…and now he has a fix-it shop and four hundred dollars…

SAM: Well…if he could just…feel that his invention had some…value…

FOWLER: Mr. Jones…

SAM: Nothing earth shaking, mind you…just some little proof that…outside of Mayberry, Emmett Clark’s work is considered…important…

FOWLER: He actually believed that Amalgamated meant to use his device?

“What a rube!”  I’m going to skip over the rest of this nonsense because I simply refuse to believe that a mega-corporate company guy like Fowler gives two shits down an outhouse hole that Emmett got butthurt.  I will bring your attention to this, however:

This guy who taps at Emmett’s shop door and then shoves mail into the slot is our old friend Norman Leavitt as Mayberry’s up-at-the-butt-crack-of-dawn postman, George Felton.  The last time we saw Mr. F was in the episode entitled “Millie’s Dream”—and at the time, I mentioned that it was his swan song as the town’s mail carrier.  Well, I was mistaken.

You see, in the IMDb credits for “Emmett’s Invention,” Leavitt is credited as “Ollie”…and before we go blaming the IMDb, he’s legitimately billed that way in the actual episode’s credits, too.  Now—why they’ve chosen to call him “Ollie” is a question that I can’t answer; in fact, I don’t why the R.F.D. people didn’t just call him “postman” and let it go at that…particularly since he’s never addressed as “Ollie.”  I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that it is possible he’s referred to as that in the three minutes missing from this program.  But that still doesn’t make it right—he’s Postman Felton, and should be credited as such.

Okay, Felton drops a letter in the slot…Emmett, inside packing up the last vestiges of his dignity, starts going through the mail until he finds a letter that makes him grin.  He runs over to the council office, where Sam, Millie and Howard stand around in various stages of not working, and after a brief exchange of pleasantries starts to read the letter out loud.

EMMETT: “Dear Mr. Clark…Amalgamated Dynamics is proud and privileged to purchase world wide rights to your…er…lathe cut…cylin…” (Handing it to Howard) Here…you read it, will ya?

HOWARD (continuing): “To your lathe cut cylindrical screw utilizing a demi-helix as an impediment…it is gratifying to be associated with such designers of dedication and integrity such as yourself…in projects so vital to all…sincerely, J. Philips Osborne…executive vice president!”  Hey!

SAM: Aw…that’s great, Emmett!

MILLIE: Oh…who’d expect a big company like Amalgamated…uh…whatchamacallit to send you something like that?

HOWARD: Yeah…but it’s no more than you deserve, Emmett!

EMMETT: Yeah…I guess you’re right…I had it comin’…I bet I’m one of the few inventors in the whole wide world who ever got a letter like this!

SAM: You might just be the first…

Oh, someone please stop this now…I think I just threw up in my mouth.  Okay, here’s the coda to this one: Emmett puts the bedbug letter he got in a frame and hangs it prominently in the fix-it shop.  And then it’s back to the old inventions game, as he demonstrates for Sam and Howard his latest creation.

The grapefruit shield.  “You see, you stick this in the grapefruit rind…and no matter where you jab your spoon, you can’t get squirted in the eye.”

Needless to say, Sam and Howard are underwhelmed by this—but Emmett remains undaunted: “I don’t expect the world to appreciate it now—us dedicated inventors are used to being forty, fifty years ahead of the rest of the world…besides…I gotta iron out a few delicate details in the design.  But when the rest of the people catch up—I’ll be ready!”

He jabs a spoon into the grapefruit, and the juice hits Howard squarely in the eye for the punchline.  (It would probably have been more fitting if the damn thing had blown up and emitted sparks despite its lack of electricity.)

Epilogue

In a recent Entertainment Weakly Weekly article online, the magazine did a slide show entitled “TV Finales: Most Frustrating Ever”—and one of the shows mentioned was the series finale of Gilligan’s Island.  The critic who wrote about this episode, Lanford Beard, had this to say: “Instead of wrapping up the world's longest three-hour tour, this island-bound installment might as well have been any old episode, with unremarkable zaniness distracting from any actual plot momentum. It was barely worthy of a season ender, forget an unexpected series finale.”

This goes toward proving something that I have long argued about a magazine that’s really only suitable for wrapping fish—there are relatively few people on that staff who have any television or movie knowledge before 1975.  If Mr. Beard had done a little research, he would have learned that Gilligan’s Island had actually been renewed by CBS for a fourth season. 

While its ratings weren’t what one would call phenomenal, it was still holding its own (its Monday night competition was NBC’s The Monkees)—what killed off its bid for a fourth season was a little TV western called Gunsmoke.  Gunsmoke’s ratings had taken a dip since its reign as the #1 TV program from 1957 to 1961, and the network had made plans to put it out to pasture, so to speak.  But lobbying from network affiliates and fans—not to mention Babe Paley, wife of CBS President William S. and West Virginia Senator Robert C. Byrd, who even entered a plea in the Congressional Record—convinced CBS to move Gunsmoke into Gilligan’s assigned time slot.  (For what it’s worth, the Monday night switch revitalized Gunsmoke, and vaulted it back into the Top Ten.)

So the creative minds (stop snickering) behind Gilligan never got to do an actual final episode until the 1978 TV-movie Rescue from Gilligan’s Island—because at the time of the final third season episode, everybody just assumed they’d be working again in the fall.  (That’s why it feels like “any old episode,” EW critic—it was.)

I know that was a little long-winded, but I use it as an illustration to explain why the finale of Mayberry R.F.D. is so unremarkable.  The show’s creators no doubt assumed they’d be back for a fourth season—heck, the sitcom was still doing well in the ratings (ranked #15 overall).  And the production number of this last episode is “0322”—meaning there were four episodes filmed after it.

But CBS embarked on a crusade to rid itself of programs that, while popular, appealed mainly to rural audiences—what would legendarily become known as “the rural purge.”  Fellow bucolic sitcoms The Beverly Hillbillies and Green Acres were cancelled, as was the countrified version of Laugh-In, Hee Haw.  (Hee Haw got the last laugh, however—it went into syndication, where it became an even bigger success.)  There was an outcry over the cancellation of R.F.D. (though you have to wonder why) but CBS was not going to budge.  They had seen the future in shows like Mary Tyler Moore and All in the Family, and that was the freeway they were taking.  (Pat Buttram, a.k.a. Mr. Haney on Green Acres, later famously said that the network cancelled “everything with a tree in it.”)

Mayberry fans know that in April of 1986, NBC scheduled a mega-successful TV movie called Return to Mayberry—which reunited as many of the still-living cast members from The Andy Griffith Show as possible.  Both George Lindsey and Jack Dodson reprised their characters of Goober Pyle and Howard Sprague, respectively—but they were the only regulars from Mayberry R.F.D. who participated (Paul Hartman had left this world for a better one in 1973, Hope Summers passed on in 1979, and Frances Bavier was too ill—she died three years later in 1989).  I’ve heard conflicting stories about Ken Berry—a few accounts mention he wasn’t asked, others say he declined because he was too busy at the time with Mama’s Family.  But Arlene Golonka clearly got snubbed, and if Sam and Millie weren’t going to be around it stands to reason Cousin Alice Ghostley wasn’t getting a call.  Buddy Foster probably checked his messages…nada.  (Then again, Elinor Donahue and Jack Burns from TAGS didn’t get asked, either.)  And of course, we have already talked about how Opie Taylor’s little brother Andy mysteriously vanished—making Ron Howard a two-time loser in that he also lost a brother on Happy Days (though I have long theorized that Chuck Cunningham actually died at the hands of Arthur “Fonzie” Fonzarelli).

In the final analysis, perhaps it’s best that R.F.D. never bothered to wrap things up in a blaze of glory or tidy little bundle—other than the town succumbing to a cholera outbreak, I really can’t think of any other finale that would have satisfied fans.  I’m not sorry I embarked on this experiment (though I am glad it’s over) but I still have many unanswered questions—the first being: why was this show so popular in the first place?  Somebody out there had to be watching it, and they need to fess up for the good of their immortal soul…as my father has said in the past, “If as many people as I’ve talked to who say they voted for McGovern did vote for McGovern that essobee Nixon would never have been re-elected.”

To close this out—a brief Mayberry R.F.D. primer.  These are ten episodes that I would recommend to anyone who’s never watched the series or to people who won’t watch because, color (not necessarily in the order of preference, bur rather in order of broadcast).

“Andy and Helen Get Married”

“The Panel Show”

“Howard’s Hobby”

“Goober and the Telephone Girl”

“The Caper”

“The Mayberry Float”

“The Mynah Bird”

"Community Spirit"

“Howard the Dream Spinner”

“Howard the Swinger”

And the worst (same as the first):

“Youth Takes Over”

“Sister Cities”

“Millie and the Palm Springs Golf Pro”

“Millie and the Great Outdoors”

“Sensitivity Training”

“Howard’s Nephew”

“Millie’s Dream”

“Millie’s Egg Farm”

“The City Planner”

“Emmett’s Invention”

If you disagree with any of the choices on this list—or would like to lobby for your own…as always, the comments section is at your disposal.

Later this week, I’ll be laying the groundwork for our new TDOY Monday feature, Doris Day(s).  I know a few of you have expressed reluctance about getting on board with this…so I will try to make a case as to why you should give it a try.