Andy Griffith - a cure for anxiety?

I find myself drawn to Andy Griffith lately. I skim through the dozens of channels, but again and again I'm pulled to Mayberry. I've never been a big fan of the show. Lately, though, spending day after day in the benumbed, cruel, dark world of modern teenagers, I feel overwhelmed with anxiety and depression, and I seek the refuge of false simplicity. In many ways, I suppose I'm rehashing the cold comfort of the Cold War t.v.-watchers. Every other channel over-stimulates my countless neuroses, adding to the gnawing in my stomach as I lie in bed at night, dreading. Everything seems too much, too fast, too harsh, too ugly, too mean, too far gone. I remember a line from a Edna St. Vincent Millay poem - "we've gone too far." We've gone too far. We become, it seems to me, each day, a more disturbing nation, a more disturbing world. It makes me sad, and I wonder where there is to go. I'd bet money that even Mayberry has had a Wal-mart shoot-out.