The Stumble Down Memory Lane Continues: Sesame Street & The Muppets

Since yesterday's post about Mister Rogers, I've been thinking a lot about another great mind of children's television (and one I enjoyed even more than Mister Rogers): Jim Henson. Both Henson's "Sesame Street" and "The Muppet Show" were staples of my childhood. Even today, I could ramble endlessly about the genius of these two programs, especially The Muppets. While the denizens of "Sesame Street" were undoubtedly tailored to kids, The Muppets definitely appealed to a broader audience. The originality of both casts of characters, though, is still of great interest and entertainment to me.

One thing I always used to ask people, as a way of getting to know them, as a sort of ice-breaker, was to ask who their favorite "Sesame Street" character or Muppet was. I believed I could tell a lot about a person by the puppet they chose. However, my beloved John failed this test miserably, and I've since retired it as a faulty indicator of the human soul.

Let me explain.

On our first date, I asked John the million dollar question. Our conversation went like this:

Fade in.

Me: Tell me, John, who is your favorite "Sesame Street" character or Muppet?

John thinks long and hard, which I take to be a good sign. Then:

John: Gordon.

Me (dropping my tofu burrito): Gordon?!? He wasn't even a puppet!

John: Yeah, but he was HOT!

Fade out.

Don't get me wrong, the big bald ebony yumminess of Gordon is obvious, but he wasn't really remarkable in any way. He was just a second fiddle, as all the humans were, to the puppets. I just couldn't analyze John's response. Thus, my perfect ice-breaker question proved itself fallible.

There were many characters I liked immensely, and others in which I found no appeal whatsoever.

Take Fozzy the Bear. I always found him really annoying, and I just wanted to take that vagrant's bowler hat of his and shove it down his throat. Then there's Rolf the Dog. I didn't mind him so much at first, but then a girl I used to know showed up at school with an atrocious Ogilvie home perm and she looked exactly like Rolf. That killed it for me. Oh, and Elmo; despite his popularity, I was never a big fan. All that baby babble and talking in the third person, it was like watching a mental patient off his meds.

Many of the more central puppets left me ambivalent. I didn't have much opinion on Kermit, Big Bird, Cookie Monster, or Gonzo. They were interesting enough, no doubt, but the ones I really came to see were these:

-Miss Piggy. I once knew someone who wrote her entire college thesis on Miss Piggy and why she is an icon of feminism, female revolution, and girl power. Miss Piggy was assertive, hilarious, and determined. By God, she was going to nail that pipsqueak frog if she had to lie, cheat, steal, kill, or ride out-of-control roller skates through Central Park. She could also be wonderfully sensitive and reflective, but her staunch optimism and drive were always intact.

-Mr. Snuffalopagus. We still don't know what the hell kind of creature he was, other than Big Bird's imaginary friend, but Snuffy was always so languid and loving and supportive. He had big droopy stoner eyes and an unhurried, lumbering gait. Cuddly and safe, Mr. Snuffalopagus was a comforting daydream that fueled my creative young imagination.

-Oscar the Grouch. As a kid, I was never much into Oscar, though I didn't dislike him. It's only as an adult that I started to identify with his anti-humanity attitude. Oscar hated just about everyone, wasn't ashamed or unapologetic about it, and wasn't afraid to say "That sucks!" (in so many words). I think he was a highly-evolved, self-actualized puppet. AND he had that kick-ass little worm, Slimy. Who couldn't love Slimy?!?

-Prairie Dawn. Without question, my favorite character on "Sesame Street". This hot little tramp was bright pink with straw-yellow pigtails and always wore the same gingham dress. She also played the piano, and is mostly known for one line: "And now it's time for the show." She would then proceed to bang out a virtuoso number on the piano...all with her two tiny pink felt fingers! Miraculous indeed! Prairie Dawn didn't need such trivial things as movable digits.

-The Count. The voice, the monocle, the European accent. *Sigh*

-Janice. Quite simply, the greatest Jim Henson creation. I. LOVE. JANICE. Perpetually stoned (she never opened her eyes!), massive lips frozen in a "Give peace a chance" grin, and a fabulous command of language that was typically little more than "Fer sure!", Janice has a special place in my heart. She was a musician, a tambourine player to be exact, often playing with the band; she dated the band's bass player, Floyd Pepper. She had some uproarious one-liners on "The Muppet Show" and in the Muppet movies. It's a little-known fact that Janice is the only muppet to ever swear (she said "damn" in one of the movies). My favorite Janice line will always be from "The Muppet Movie", in which she declares her artistic integrity when discussing what she will and won't do in the proposed film the Muppets intend to make. She says, "I'm not taking my clothes off for anyone. Not even for artistic purposes!" You see, our Janice was a lady.

Ah, Jim Henson. An undisputed genius of puppetry. Fer sure!