Andy Griffith died today, and while millions remember him as television's favorite small-town sheriff or country lawyer, I will always remember him for "What It Was, Was Football," a monologue I first heard as a child. Even then I laughed. And tonight, listening to it again, I laughed again.
Andy Griffith was a classic: an actor, musician, comic who entertained people for almost 60 years without ever resorting to demeaning people or using profane language. That's quite a feat, one well deserving of the Medal of Freedom former president Bush bestowed on him a few years back.
When I listened to the recording on You Tube just now, eyes closed, I could hear ice tinkle in minted tea, feel the scratch of the living room's sisal rug on my bare legs and a warm breeze snake through the screen porch, and hear my father's laughter.
Tonight I feel like the child I once was.
Andy Griffith may be dead, but his story magic lives, just as my father's laughter does in memory.
No comments:
Post a Comment