A confession: My wife and I have become a part of that technology-advanced option known as "binge watching."
Binge watching occurs when an online streaming service (see, I know some of the lingo) makes several episodes of a popular program, like "House of Cards" or "Call the Midwife," available all at once. In other words, you don't have to wait for weekly episodes like in the good old days of black-and-white TV.
Our access to the wonderful world of movies and TV shows is through Netflix and an Apple streaming device. There are other such services that are as good or even better, but that's how we reach this mysterious "cloud" that holds the vast deposits of the digital world.
As we use these online services more and more, we are discovering that they are smarter -- far, far smarter -- than we are. They use something called algorithms to detect the kinds of programs we most like to watch. Then these services recommend more programs like those.
That's how, believe it or not, we now have access to umpteen seasons of "The Andy Griffith Show."
When Mayberry was a weekly destination, via black-and-white TV, each season consisted of 20-something episodes. So we have lots and lots and lots and lots of "The Andy Griffith Show" available to us. If we started binge watching that show right now, we could probably come up for air sometime next March. That's just a guess.
The very first episodes, if you don't have them memorized already, introduced us to the sheriff of a small town, his deputy, his son, his aunt and the good-looking love interest, the town druggist.
I would give a spoiler alert here, but surely you have seen all the episodes of "The Andy Griffith Show" by now, particularly if you're over a certain age. If you weren't alive in the 1960s, I suggest you take a look at those old TV shows that were favorites of millions of Americans at the time, shows that established -- in their own way -- a certain standard of values whose foundation is the family and the community.
So here is a spoiler: The first episode of the Mayberry show established that Barney Fife got his job as deputy through nepotism. He was Sheriff Andy Taylor's cousin. I didn't remember that. And Barney's mother was on one of the early episodes.
Something else I noticed: The actor playing Floyd the barber in the first few episodes wasn't the actor we came to know and love in the following episodes. I didn't remember that.
Something else I noticed: Otis, the town drunk, pretty much represents the attitude that excessive drinking is OK. However, I haven't seen anyone smoking on the show, and in those days most everyone in movies and on TV smoked. A lot. This was about the time the U.S. surgeon general issued his first warnings about the connection between smoking and cancer. Until them, smoking was widely promoted as a healthy addiction. Actor Ronald Reagan, later president of the U.S. of A., promoted smoking as an aid to digestion recommended by doctors. Ah, the good old days.
Something else I noticed: Older women were portrayed on TV in the Mayberry era as plump if not downright obese. Aunt Bea obviously ate way too much of her own cooking. Deputy Barney Fife, on the other hand, must have been bulimic. Really. Go see for yourself.
When we watched one of the first-season episodes of "The Andy Griffith Show" the other night, we noticed that some recommendations of "shows like this" from Netflix appeared on our TV screen. One of the suggestions was "The Twilight Zone." Rod Serling wrote the very first episode, but he didn't appear onscreen. In later episodes, if I remember correctly, he introduced each episode -- while smoking. He died at age 50.
All of this -- Mayberry and the Rod Serling years -- became a part of our American fabric more than 50 years ago. I know, because I was there. As a matter of fact, Father's Day this year fell on the same day as our wedding anniversary. We both said "I do" 52 years ago.
Does anyone else remember "The Avengers"?
Joe Sullivan is the retired editor of the Southeast Missourian.
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