Maybe We Could All Use a Little Mayberry

There’s an old episode of The Andy Griffith Show that makes a pretty good argument for leaving a few things undone on a Sunday.

It’s called “Man in a Hurry.”

A businessman named Malcolm Tucker has car trouble while passing through Mayberry. He has somewhere to be, business to conduct, and absolutely no interest in spending his day in a little town where nobody seems particularly concerned about the clock.

Unfortunately for Mr. Tucker, it’s Sunday.

And Mayberry has other plans.

Or, more accurately, Mayberry is perfectly comfortable without many plans at all.

The mechanic isn’t treating Sunday like another workday. People are spending time together. There’s room for a meal, a visit, and some sitting around.

Tucker can’t understand it. His day has been interrupted, and he wants somebody to appreciate the seriousness of the situation.

Preferably immediately.

But the harder he pushes, the more frustrated he gets. Everybody around him seems to possess something he can’t quite get his hands on: the ability to enjoy the afternoon they’re actually having.

Andy and the people around him welcome Tucker into their Sunday. Eventually, he begins to settle down. By the end, the man who couldn’t bear the thought of being stuck in Mayberry has begun to appreciate being there.

The hurry finally loosens its grip.

That’s a pretty good lesson to fit into a half-hour television show.

And I think it has aged awfully well.

We’ve gotten very good at making ourselves available.

People can reach us in the house, in the car, at dinner, and while we’re supposedly relaxing. We carry a little device that makes sure an unanswered question or an unfinished task is never more than an arm’s length away.

Mr. Tucker had to have car trouble to bring his workday to a halt.

We can keep ours going from a lawn chair.

That’s progress, I suppose. Although sometimes I wonder who’s getting the better end of that deal.

Working online makes it especially easy. There’s always another email to write, another idea to chase, another tool to figure out. You sit down to check one thing, and somehow an hour disappears.

Meanwhile, somebody you love is in the next room.

The afternoon is slipping by.

And that cup of coffee you were going to sit and enjoy has gone cold again.

I understand the pull. I enjoy building things. I like learning, creating, and seeing an idea turn into something useful. Retirement hasn’t cured me of having another project in mind.

Julie could probably confirm that.

But I also know how easy it is to let a business occupy every available corner of a life.

We tell ourselves we’ll relax when we get caught up.

I’d like to meet the person who has actually reached that point. I have a few questions.

There will always be something else to do. Another loose end. Another opportunity. Another very convincing reason to open the laptop.

At some point, we have to decide that a few of those things can wait.

Sunday seems like a fine place to practice.

Have the long breakfast. Call an old friend. Sit with your spouse without keeping one eye on your phone. Spend time with the neighbors. Take the dog for a walk and let him conduct his very thorough investigation of the same patch of grass.

Wrigley takes that responsibility seriously.

Let a conversation wander. Let an afternoon go by without requiring it to produce anything.

You don’t have to turn the whole day into a self-improvement exercise, either. Even relaxing seems to come with instructions these days.

Sometimes you can just sit.

What I like about that Mayberry story is that Tucker gets a chance to discover something he had nearly hurried past.

A pleasant afternoon. Good company. A little peace.

Those things were available before he recognized their value.

I suspect that happens to a lot of us.

We work hard because we want a good life for ourselves and the people we love. It makes sense to spend some time enjoying that life with them.

So if you find yourself rushing through this Sunday, mentally halfway into Monday, maybe think about Mr. Tucker.

Set something aside.

Pull up a chair.

The people you love are here now.

That’s as Jack sees it.

Episode reference: “Man in a Hurry,” The Andy Griffith Show, Season 3, Episode 16. Paramount+ episode listing.