I’ve had many business trips to North Carolina over the years and on each one, I’ve wanted to make my personal pilgrimage to Mount Airy - the birthplace of Andy Griffith and the model for Mayberry. The closest I ever came was purchasing Aunt Bee’s Mayberry Cookbook (it has a wonderful recipe for Roadkill Possum). But this trip would be different. It was a vacation and the first stop would be Mayberry.

Actually, the first stop was a bed and breakfast in Pilot Mountain ("Mount Pilot" in the TV series). Kathy kept calling it Mount Pilot and the locals never corrected her but just smiled knowingly. We arrived at dusk so there wasn’t much of a view of the "knob." But the next morning, there it was outside our bedroom window, in all its quiet beauty. I wrote in the guestbook, "Now I know why Barney always took his vacations in Mount Pilot!"

Mayberry was just 10 miles down the road (remember - Mount Pilot was the "big city" to Mayberry). As we approached town, we started to see the "signs" - Aunt Bee’s Restaurant, The Bluebird Diner, Floyd’s Barbershop.

Floyd’s Barbershop. There really was such a place. I could feel my curiosity and excitement start to build.

But first things first. We followed green signs which led us to the Tourist Information Center. Not surprisingly, it was really more of an Andy Griffith Museum chronicling his life from the displayed birth certificate (1926) to his Matlock tan business suit. More interesting to me was his brief videotaped interview:

Mayberry was an idealistic small town where in the span of 30 minutes, they invented a small town problem with a small town solution. Mount Airy is a real town with real people and real problems.

He seemed to be warning me not to live life in a delusion but I didn’t care. I finally had made it to Mayberry and I wanted my biggest decision to be whether to have the porkchop sandwich or fried chicken at the diner. We were just about finished studying Andy’s life when a church bus filled with elderly church ladies pulled up and that was our cue to move on.

So we headed straight for Main Street, parked the car and found ourselves in front of Floyd’s Barbershop. Now mind you, this is the actual place! It just celebrated its 75^th anniversary and Russell Hiatt, the 70-year-old owner, has been cutting hair for 52 years. So we sat on the chairs with a few of the locals and soon I was having my hair cut by the same man who cut Andy’s hair 50 years ago. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the church bus start to unload the church ladies. And this was really cute - one of them whipped open the door and yelled in, "Hey Floyd!" Without missing a beat, Russell responded "Hey Ladies!" and kept on clipping. I just smiled. In my own little way, I was living in the black and white, carefree reality that still existed in Mount Airy.

Listen. "Floyd" spent at least 30 minutes cutting may hair and chatting about North Carolina; just when I thought it was over, he lathered up my neck and face and gave me a shave using a straight edge razor just like our grandfathers used. It was another first for me. And all this cost just $6. Kathy had her hair trimmed by Donna. $6. And before we left, "Floyd" took a Polaroid picture of us, then used his own camera to take another picture which by now is displayed on his wall along with a thousand other happy customers. I’d show you the Polaroid picture of Kathy and me but unfortunately, I sort of looked like Goober so I’ll use a picture Kathy took instead.

After Floyd’s, we wanted to eat at the Snappy Lunch but it was filled with church ladies, so instead we went to a gift shop. The friendly lady behind the counter explained that this was the original home of the Bluebird Diner and because of that, she called herself "Juanita." The thing about North Carolina is that everyone is so incredibly friendly and genuine, so to call Juanita "friendly" is actually redundant. But she was and we enjoyed that tidbit of memorabilia.

Having bought our postcards and refrigerator magnet, we peered in the Snappy Lunch. Still filled with ravenous church ladies.

So the next stop was the Mayberry Jail with Barney’s 1962 Ford Fairlane squad car parked out front. Since nobody was around inside, I snuck behind the barricade and sat at Andy’s desk. I couldn’t get an outside line, though because Sarah was off tending to her bursitis. We were going to hang out in the jail cell for awhile longer but it looked like Otis threw up again. So we wrote out our postcards, found the Post Office and mailed them. One more trip back to the Snappy Lunch and finally it was clear of people.

Now let me tell you about the Snappy Lunch. The "porkchop sandwich" is its specialty and of course, what Barney always ordered. I suppose they serve other southern food as well but what’s the point? This sandwich is legendary, with or without onions. The price? $2.50 - I really didn’t know what to expect and by the second bite, I was ready to order a couple more "to go." The only way I can describe it is that you just want more.

In Kathy’s fashion, she asked our friendly (I know, "redundant") waitress to take our picture. But get this - our waitress instead spoke to the owner, Charles Dowell, who was busy up front frying porkchops on the open grill. He stopped what he was doing, came back to our booth and escorted me, past the ½ dozen customers waiting to pay their checks, past the 30 or 40 people eating porkchop sandwiches, past the large black and white glossies of famous people eating porkchop sandwiches, past all this to his grill where he proudly held up a porkchop and posed with me. The entire diner went silent while Kathy nervously took my picture, then everything returned to normal. It was my 15 seconds of fame in Mayberry.