I never set out to be Floyd. For that matter, I never set out, nor did I ever intend, to live in Mayberry. Well, I am not Floyd. I am Kevin. This isn’t Mayberry, it’s Republic. This is not the 1950’s, heck, we are in a complete other millennia, far removed from Andy Griffith’s little town in the deep south, at least, but not really. We aren’t them, we are us, but deep down everyone here who is familiar with the story knows, we really are them.
I am the town barber. I wasn’t always the town barber. I was actually one of many barbers in a couple of different cities with fierce competition all around. Now I man a shop with two chairs, one barber. The second chair is for me to take a nap in should that need ever arise. There isn’t any real competition. There are a couple of beauty shops in town. They are awesome. There are even a couple of dog groomers. But for right now, I’m the only barber.
I love walking down the main street in town. It’s only a few blocks long, at least the town part. I feel like I’ve been transported back to 1955. I wasn’t around in ’55 but it is what imagine it was like. Way different from what I was living. People you don’t know, or don’t even know if you know, wave at you from across the street or from their cars. People remember your name, your story, and the last time you talked. The kids are polite. Heck, there doesnt even seem to be any stray dogs sauntering through the shadows. People shovel their sidewalks, mostly, and often times shovel yours just to be neighborly.
The town has a herd of mule deer. They don’t actually belong to the town, but they are convinced they belong in it. It is against the law to feed them, but they seem to find enough forage in yards and around local businesses to keep them interested. They move about town freely, crossing the main street, always using the crosswalk. Seriously!
Did I mention we only have 2 police officers? No Barney here. They both are very well trained and professional, and though I never asked u am sure they both have all their bullets and they are where they belong. Oh, and there is Karma, the police dog. Oh yeah, there are plenty of puns about Karma catching up with you.
To be sure, there are some curmudgeons and the local gossips meet almost daily to discuss and solve everyone’s problems over acuppa. There are grumpy folk, recluses and there are those who keep anonymous in order keep their freedom. They aren’t apparent. They are there. Like in Mayberry, the make the occasional appearance then fade back into the background to be replaced by the wholesomeness of a community that love and respect over discord and disharmony.
I know full well that I am the new guy. I do not have a staring roll. I am not Andy, Barney or Opie. Shoot, I ain’t even Aunt Bea. I am the barber, a bit actor that adds a hint of seasoning to the main dish that is our town. I only have a small part, but I have a part!
The folk here welcome you to make it your town. They don’t much like it when folk try to make it like their town. You know, the one they came from. Why would anyone e want to? Welcome back in time. Welcome to our town. Welcome to my town