28 Routes in the Midst of Hatred and Violence

           28 routes at the Minnehaha Station.  Each with a regular carrier.  Probably at least 8 city carrier assistants as well.  Perhaps 10 clerks, some distribution, some retail.  Probably 2-3 supervisors.  One manager.  And thousands of customers, people who depend on the mail.  Businesses of all shapes and description, churches, clinics, assisted living centers.  People who rent or own houses or live in apartments.  Families, grandparents, mothers, brothers, fathers, sisters, cousins.

           

28 routes for delivery with about 17,000 total stops.  Now, that’s not to ignore the thousands of people who walk in the door to purchase stamps, to send packages, to pick up their PO Box mail, to track packages that haven’t arrived yet, to bring up delivery concerns, to change their address.  People from every single background, every culture, every orientation.  Everyone equally gets mail.  Everyone equally gets delivery.

28 routes in that building.  The same goes for those working behind the scenes, bringing that mail to your doors each and every day.  You’d be hard pressed to find a more diverse workforce.  From retail clerks to carriers, from mailhandlers to maintenance, from distribution clerks to supervisors, from postmasters to managers.  People of every race, color, creed, background, culture, orientation all working together to bring a common goal: to bring the people of the United States their mail.

28 routes came out of a building that constantly brings other cultures to the national social consciousness via the people, images, and historically important events that are acknowledged by being placed on US postage.  For instance, previous African-American individuals who have been honored on US postage include Booker T. Washington, Frederick Douglass, Sojourner Truth, Oscar Micheaux, Duke Ellington, Jesse Owens, Rosa Parks, Nat ‘King’ Cole, Mahalia Jackson, and Maya Angelou.  This year alone had a Black Heritage series release honoring Gwen Ifill and the Voices of the Harlem Renaissance tribute stamp sheet came out recently in May.  And this is just one of the cultures and events so honored by US postage.  The contributions of these individuals, the importance of the historical events, the terrific influence felt by so many lives touched cannot be understated.

            28 routes of delivery where even a worldwide pandemic didn’t stop the mail.  While other businesses closed, the post office didn’t.  While others went to curbside service or pick-up only, postal delivery still went out.  Every single person in the United States with an address continued to receive their mail.  The carriers took extra precautions, the clerks took extra precautions, the management took extra precautions.  The lobbies, the plants, the retail counters all took extra precautions to provide the continuity of service for the American public.  Some semblance of normalcy was gained from seeing that carrier in that truck coming to your home or going to that office to buy stamps.  Despite the face masks or plastic shielding, it still was a touchpoint back to what everything was prior to this virus taking hold.

28 routes.  Probably close to 50 employees bringing thousands of people their mail during the week from that office.  Until this week.  This week the mail actually stopped coming from there.  Now it takes quite an amazing event to prohibit delivery.  Wildfires or a flood for instance.  A bridge collapsing or an epic dangerous blizzard or a polar vortex.  Hurricanes and tornadoes.  Usually, the mail goes back out the next day or a week later depending on the veracity of the event, but it goes back out.

28 routes where thousands of people depended on that lifeline of mail.  Especially in Minnesota, where the COVID restrictions were tight, people relied more and more on the mail as they were under stay at home orders.  It was a way to receive items needed for daily life, a way to receive medicine, a way to send a letter or a gift card or just some way to connect in a far more personal way than the internet could ever provide. 

28 routes went up in smoke this week.  Righteous outrage and peaceful protest disintegrated into mob rule, chaos, and violent rioting.  One hears a lot about collateral damage as an excuse for this violence.  Yet this certainly wasn’t collateral, this was deliberate damage.  It was done on purpose.  And now the original protest message has been distorted and molded into destroying lives from all walks of life, all backgrounds, all cultures, all races.  When you attack the mail, you attack everyone.  Everyone suffers equally.

28 routes in a town where just weeks before these same carriers and clerks and thousands like them nationwide were lauded as heroes for working during the pandemic.  And now?  A burned out shell.  The PO Box section where their neighbors would get their mail looks like a bomb hit it.  The mail, which in some cases was a literal lifeline where people could get medicine and checks, was destroyed.  The packages that people ordered, trying to obey stay at home orders the best they could, were reduced to a cinder in the blink of an eye.

28 routes that were serviced, like routes across the country, by people from all backgrounds.  One of the most amazing sights I ever saw from the postal service was when we were working nights in Milwaukee at the plant.  It was incredible to see people from every single background working together.  We were the definition of a melting pot.  Black and white, Hispanic and Asian, men and women, young and old, gay and straight, all different religious or non-religious backgrounds.  Being on 3^rd shift, we were all tired, yet we all had a job to do.  Together.  All equals, no privilege other than being able to work where we all did. 

28 routes from an organization where anyone from any background could apply and get hired.  And in spreading ignorant hatred, that station was incinerated by a rioting mob that hijacked a worthwhile cause, directly damaging that cause through their violence.  This was an outrageous punch in the face to a non-discriminating workplace and organization.  And even despite all this destruction, the postal service is going to get the mail to people safely. 

28 routes.  And how many of those routes were now closed by blind, seething rage and hatred?  Will they ever all fully come back?  Can they?  As far as the postal service’s side of it is concerned, it is certainly stronger than the angry mobs that not only destroyed the Minnehaha Station and damaged other Minneapolis offices as well but also vandalized other offices across the nation.  And once again, this hopefully provides an opportunity to show others by example how the postal service works together.  All of us.  All backgrounds.  All races. 

Perhaps the rest of the nation could take a page from the postal service book and learn a lesson together from these 28 routes.

 

The Mads Are Back! No, Really, They Are!

            I’m going to ask the millions of you out in the worldwide interwebnets to indulge me for a second.  Yes, it is a lot to ask of you, but I think we have all grown somewhat during this award-seeking blogging experience.  Sure, we’ve had our ups and our downs.  We’ve had our hills and our valleys.  We’ve had our Funk and our Wagnalls, our Peaches and our Herb, our Benson and our Hedges.  We can do this!

 

            My lovely bride and I actually had a night out together this past Saturday.  After locking the babysitter in the house with our three heavily-sugared children, we managed to escape for our wild evening plans: dinner and a movie!  To clarify, by “dinner” I meant “grabbing drive-thru at Hardee’s” which we did eat, so there’s that.  And by “movie”, I meant “seeing The Mads from Mystery Science Theater 3000 perform live, riffing of the movie The Neanderthal Man at the Times Cinema in Milwaukee, WI”.  Seems so obvious now, doesn’t it?

 

What else did you expect?  They're EVIL!

 

            Oh golly, where to begin with this fabulous evening?  I will start with why I was excited to see Trace Beaulieu and Frank Conniff, the aforementioned Mads, in the first place.  At the tender age of 11, I began watching Mystery Science Theater at the start of Season Two in 1990.  (This was back when Comedy Central/CTV:The Comedy Network/Comedy Channel only ran McHale’s Navy reruns in-between CPO Sharkey reruns, so MST3K easily blew away the normal programming schedule.)  That episode had Rocketship X-M for my viewing pleasure.  Rocketship X-M actually turned out to be one of the better-made movies they did, so take that either as a warning or encouragement or both.

            That landmark episode also had the introduction of Frank Conniff as TV’s Frank.  Trace Beaulieu had already established the character of Dr. Clayton Forrester, one of the mad scientists that had started the bad movie experiment premise of the show.  But now Dr. Forrester had a new partner in TV’s Frank.  Would these characters mesh?  Thankfully, they meshed just like Joe Namath netted slingshot briefs.  In other better words, they clearly had a superb chemistry from the start.  From that moment through the end of Season 6, the interplay of the Mads was offbeat and quirky, sometimes dark, always fun. 

 

Oops, almost forgot this programming tentpole of the Comedy Central reruns! 
Soooo, moving on...

 

            Frank left the show after Season 6 and Trace left after Season 7.  MST3K lasted for another three seasons, but it wasn’t the same.  Not bad mind you, just different.  Frank did guest star in an episode during the final season so we fortunately got to see him in the blank tunic and spit curl one more time.  Mystery Science Theater was dead, long live Mystery Science Theater.  And if that’s not a pretentious way to end a paragraph, then I don’t know what is.  

            Frank and Trace reentered the world of movie riffing when they became members of Cinematic Titanic.  They joined MST3K alums Joel Hodgson, Mary Jo Pehl, and J. Elvis Weinstein for some DVD releases and live tours.  Fortunately, I was able to see them perform twice in the wilds of America’s Dairyland.  They also did Meet & Greets and autograph signings after the shows.  I’m sure Frank and Trace don’t remember meeting me at either time which is understandable.  However, I will help jog their memories: I was the nervous, socially awkward fan that avoided direct eye contact whilst sporting a dopey grin the whole time.  Remember me now?  No, I was the one on the right.  Yep!  That was me! 

 

            Trace and Frank now tour as The Mads Are Back, riffing bad movies live in theaters throughout the country.  They encourage fans to suggest venues that would fit their show.  I was happy to oblige and immediately thought of theaters in Milwaukee that would be perfect: the Rosebud and the Times.  I’m sure they saw my message on a random Facebook thread and went, “This Wink guy might have something here.  Call the Times theater.  Now!!”  I’m pretty sure that’s how it went down.  Oh, and you’re welcome, City of Milwaukee.

 

Oh now, Milwaukee!  You didn't have to go to such trouble thanking me!



 

            Why the Times?  I loved it ever since I started seeing classic movies there in the fall of 2002.  That was the magic of that theater at the time: seeing actual film being run through an actual projector on an actual screen.  The actual seats were old, the actual popcorn was good, and the actual price was $5 a show.  $5.50 if it was a double feature.  That’s right, I saw prints of both The Maltese Falcon and Double Indemnity for less than six bucks.  It was simply paradise.
 

            I didn’t even care if the print was in ragged shape.  Vertigo looked like it was dragged through a broken glass factory and then lovingly restored by a judicious application of hydrochloric acid.  But as it was Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo on actual film, I thought it was beautiful.  There were similar occurrences with Ben-Hur and The Bridge on the River Kwai, but I didn’t mind.  These were opportunities to finally see large scope movies on the big screen.  I’m not going to cry about scratches on the print and hisses on the soundtrack.  Bring it on!

 

            I can still remember my first movie at the Times: Strangers on a Train.  When I arrived I was surprised that the theater was so packed.  Apparently this theater wasn’t going to be my little secret.  Lucking into a seat in the back on the right hand aisle, I sat down just as Robert Walker and Farley Granger accidentally meet on the train.  Now I love Hitchcock, but having the chance to see his work on a theater screen was almost like a religious experience.  I couldn’t wait to come back.

 

            One of my early return trips to the Times was for a 1950s sci-fi double feature.  I told my brother about it and he decided that he had $5.50 to spare.  We saw Queen of Outer Space with Zsa Zsa Gabor and It! The Terror From Beyond Space with 100% less Gabor.  The whole time we were both trading what we thought were funny quips.  We came to the conclusion that these movies would have been perfect fodder for golden age MST3K.  But as the show was gone, this was not to be.

 

I made a mistake.  It turns out Zsa Zsa was in the IT! creature suit here.
She was soooo versatile!

 
            Then via a hackneyed contrived paragraph linking device of my own design, here are Trace and Frank in the Times Cinema riffing away at a horrible 1950s sci-fi movie!  It was surreal to be sure.  I can’t count the amount of moments that I was in that same lobby for a film and there’s the Mads chatting away with fans, selling merchandise there.  Speaking of “merch”, as the kids call it, both guys have books available which I highly recommend.  They are more than willing to sign and personalize stuff for you.   
 

Also offered were some pictures of them as the Mads and t-shirts with “The Mads Are Back!” emblazoned in an awesome design.  I would just like to say that having Dr. Forrester himself dig through a t-shirt bag to find a medium size shirt for my wife was a fun moment.  (Trace found one and my bride was quite thankful!  By the way, she wore it under a sweater when singing in church the next day.  We are very subversive for Lutherans, ya know.)  The Mads also had posters available, one for each of the movies they were riffing over the two days they were in town.  I picked up the poster for The Neanderthal Man and they signed that for us too.  By the way, the poster art design is top notch to boot.   

 

Isn't this a great poster?  It certainly is more action packed than the movie.

 
        The show itself was great.  It certainly helps that The Neanderthal Man is not that great.  Oh, you’ve seen worse movies, I reckon.  But if talking rather than action is your bag, then fortune smiles upon you.  Do you want to see some not-that-special effects?  What about a mad scientist that loves to get suddenly outraged for no real reason?  Maybe having Beverly Garland onscreen for far too short a time is to your liking?  Well, you are in luck as The Neanderthal Man has all of that and even less!

 

Jack Pollexfen, who also produced the MST3K experiments of Indestructible Man and Monstrosity (aka The Atomic Brain), is partly to blame for this film too.  Actually not having the Neanderthal Man fight the Indestructible Man in a later sequel is one of the wonderfulest missed opportunities in the history of unjustified film hyperbole.  If you want more MST3K connections, Robert Shayne, Richard Crane, Beverly Garland, Robert Easton, and Frank Gerstle all starred in at least a couple of films featured on the show.  (By the way, I just like saying “Frank Gerstle”.  Try it!  What a magnificent name indeed.)

 

Apparently, Frank Gerstle was the first choice to play Doc Brown in Back to the Future.

            Now one could pick apart The Neanderthal Man for its obvious shortcomings, but I’ll take the higher ground and mention some good things.  Thankfully it is short, so it does have that going for it, which is nice.  There’s a sort of saber-toothed tiger, but given that there’s a sort of Neanderthal man, it evens out.  Also on the plus side, if you suffer from high blood pressure, you don’t have to worry about any suspense or horror causing myocardial infarctions of any kind.  Did I mention that Beverly Garland is in it?  I did?  Hm.  That’s about it.

Here's some more of the lovely Beverly Garland.  You are quite welcome.

            Given that 1950s/60s sci-fi is my favorite genre to see riffed, The Neanderthal Man fits squarely in my wheelhouse.  The Mads did not disappoint and they clearly had fun with this movie.  They even allowed for moments for the ridiculousness of the movie to speak for itself.  This is why the live performance is a bonus because hearing them laugh at an incredulous moment amps up the shared experience.

 

Since she's a deaf mute in the film, I wouldn't worry about her calling for help.

            I highly recommend going to see The Mads Are Back.  The guys couldn’t be friendlier.  (I suppose they could be friendlier, but having Frank give foot rubs would have been awkward and a bit much.  Having him sign his books and pose with Trace for pictures with us was just fine.)  They also do a Q&A at the end of the show.  I heartily recommend being original, asking them a question they never heard before like, “What MST3K movie was the hardest one for you to watch?” or “What’s your favorite episode?”  I kid, of course, but…ahem.

            Be sure to like their Facebook page and get updates for upcoming shows.  They might be coming to a cinema near you.  And if they aren't, recommend one.  They stars could align and you could find yourself in a shotgun shack on the other side of the world, in your beloved theater, seeing a bad movie, and enjoying a moment with two hilarious people: Trace and Frank, the Mads from MST3K. 
       
   
             Now if we can just convince them to come back to Wisconsin some time...

Obviously the photographer was nervous with me being there too.  I don't blame him.
 

   

Iran, Iran So Far Away; or How I Realized I Am Not Above Puns

A recent photograph from the ever peaceful, calm, and collected floor of the Iranian Parliament has led me to bring forth several questions, points, and random irksome examples of personal ignorance.  Keep in mind, I don’t particularly care about whatever side of the political fowl you fall on, whether it be left-wing or right-wing.  In fact, can’t we all just agree that politicians give us the bird more often than not?  Good.

 

 

Here is the picture in question.  Zippo salesmen make $650K a year in Iran. 

 

 

Anyway, here we go:

 

·         Do you think that the folks that watch the Iranian C-SPAN get just as bored as their American counterparts?  Granted, compared to our having to watch the standard US Congress nozzleheads spluttering on about something irrelevant while on our dime in-between shoe shine sessions for their be-tasseled loafers, Iranian parliament certainly seems spicier and more dramatic indeed.  However, by the 49^th chant of “Death to Israel!” on a random Tuesday just before lunch, even the most die-hard official must get somewhat tired of the rhetoric.  At that point isn’t it just white noise to them?  

 

·         Maintaining that constant level of hatred is awfully tiring isn’t it?  I’ve tried holding grudges and aside from several evergreen areas that I can always direct some rage towards, more often than not I forget why I can’t stand someone and will absentmindedly send them a Christmas card anyways.  Of course, this letter gets returned as refused, which reminds me why I hated them in the first place as they don’t accept my letters and the balance is restored.  However it at least took me a stamp to figure that out rather than always keeping the kettle of violent anger on a hot burner.

 

·         How many times do the fire alarms go off in that building?  Quite a bit I should think given the circumstances.  Does the local fire department just brush off any alerts that come across their switchboard?  I mean they should get pretty sick of having to show up in full gear and complement only because yet another demonstration happened on the main floor. 

 

·         I am glad that at least the burning demonstrations are not using actual flags in the process.  The horrible vapors that can come off while igniting a nylon flag are not only quite detrimental to healthy breathing but also certainly create a literal toxic work environment.

 

·         Thankfully, tourists who smoke never have to worry if they forgot their lighter when in Iran, since apparently every single member of the Iranian parliament is ready to blaze up at a moment’s notice.

 

·         Given current reactions on the parliament floor and in the interests of diplomatic peace, I would make the recommendation to not watch The Delta Force during the Iran/Israel/United States movie night at this time.  Of course even the hardcore Iranian parliament members would definitely have to admit through angrily clenched teeth that Chuck Norris is certainly unstoppable in that film. 

 

The science has not been invented to measure the masculinity in this picture.

·         Does the “Death to America” stack of papers stay on the floor, only because there’s always a chance for a diatribe to occur?  “But we were only going to discuss the Public Playground Placement bill.  Where you expecting to direct the conversation towards hatred of America yet again, Mr. Speaker?”

 

·         That being said, it is rather hard for me as an American to take any Iranian hint of an idea of a notion towards peaceful coexistence as being serious when they can whip out lighters and “Death to America” stationary from out of nowhere with such speed and ease when they hear something they don’t like.  I can’t find a pen when I need one, yet some of these people are practically the ninjas of well-equipped demonstration.

 

·         They must go through a lot of color ink cartridges in printing those things out right?  There must be pages left and right whose only job is to order them online from Staples or grab the printouts from their standing order at Kinko’s.  Otherwise, they run the risk of not having the handouts available for any day in which the country of the United States exists.

 

·         How long did it take to get the margins correct on those sheets?  After all, since you want to make sure that the entire “Death to America” phrase is on the same page, you’d have to fiddle with the font, right?  But that takes some time and patience with the file.  Maybe the Jokerman font doesn’t give the phrase a chance to be taken as seriously as the Gill Sans Ultra Bold font does.  It is all about the aesthetics and practicality when the day is done.

 

·         If you look closely in the picture, the handout has little footsteps walking on top of the flag as well!  That adds yet another artistic layer.  This certainly takes it above the old boring standard of screaming at a burning flag in the street. 

 

·         Also, given the variety of the “Death to America” images available, who knew that Bernie Sanders had so many unused campaign images on his jump drive?  I’m just glad that he told the parliament to download Adobe beforehand!  That certainly saved some time and frustration when Sanders sent them his image files.

 

Now, I believe in being topical and current.  That’s why I once devoted a month to writing about the movies of Boris Karloff, a man who has been dead for 50 years.  I hope this is all taken in the right spirit of warmth and jest.  Now who’s for watching Delta Force?  Aw nuts.  Too soon?  Hey, put down your lighter, I was kidding!

 

"Who needs a lighter, when I've got this bike?"

 

Taking A Walk Through Mister Rogers' Neighborhood

            As I approach my second full score, I used to believe my immaturity kept me relatively in touch with what the kids like today.  However after some ponderous reflection, I had a moment of clarity that I wish to share at this moment: my immaturity keeps me in touch with what I liked back when I was a kid.  You see, I could find a way to care less about what current interests children have today, but I don’t care enough to even do that.  What with the condom sniffing, paint chip eating, laundry detergent pod challenging, and protesting puppets on a string that currently pass as “children”, well let’s just say I’d rather dive back into my own childhood for comfort than even attempt to figure out what makes these kids tick.

            This of course presents a different challenge as I have children of my own.  As a parent, I know that I’m screwing things up for my children.  Oh yes, and don’t worry, you’re screwing up your children too!  We all are causing horrible damage, so just accept it.  Our parents weren’t geniuses and their parents weren’t either.  And it wasn’t like they came from a long line of smartypantsed people either.  I shall quote from The Waco Kid himself, “You’ve got to remember that these are just simple farmers. These are people of the land. The common clay of the new West. You know… morons.”  Sure, once in a while the family tree includes a branch to Galileo but more often than not it leads to yet another obstinate stump.

 

Few people knew that Fred Rogers was a literal giant.

            But once in a while something that I enjoyed from my youth settles into my children’s psyche and I couldn’t be more overjoyed.  It gives me hope for the future.  Sure my generation wasn’t the greatest or the boomiest or the X-iest or the Millennialest (thankfully!), but we had some rather cool things come down the pipe that I’m more than willing to share with my brood.  So they live in a house with the old school Super Mario Brothers and M.A.S.K.  They‘re into Transformers, play with Lego, and examined classic Sesame Street.  They read Berenstain Bears and watch Voltron.  In other words, they are the hippest kids from 1987 that are sadly stuck in 2018. 

            Usually my wife and I witness these moments, take pride in that we have kids that enjoy the original Duck Tales show, and then go on with our day.  But the other day, I introduced something into the lives of these kids that genuinely moved me to tears.  Or the room was just dusty.  That could have been it.  Yep.  Dusty.  Anyway, what was it that produced such a reaction?  Two days ago, my children watched Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood for the very first time.

 

Thank you SCTV and your Battle of the PBS Stars!

            Oh sure, in the past they have watched Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood on PBS.  While it does take place in the Land of Make-Believe and there are connections to the original show, it never really did anything for me.  It did a little bit more for my kids, but overall, they passed on the show.  I can’t blame them as they don’t know the history, never heard of Fred Rogers, and don’t have even a smidge of nostalgia that was inherent in such a spin-off project.

 

            This past month has been an immersion in Fred Rogers and his legacy.  Fred Rogers would have turned 90 this year and it was the 50^th anniversary of the start of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood.  There was a new documentary hosted by former Neighborhood crew member and best Batman ever Michael Keaton.  There’s going to be a new movie with Tom Hanks playing Mister Rogers.  Fred Rogers was honored with a great postage stamp where he’s pictured with King Friday.  With that barrage, the memories came flooding back to me and hopefully to anyone else that was a child from 1968 through 2001.

 

And yet Fred Rogers never was on The Next Generation?!

             To commemorate this occasion, PBS also decided to release a four-disc set of episodes from 1979 through 2001.  Now when our first child was teeny, my wife and I looked for older learning materials to show her.  We hit upon the old school Sesame Street DVD sets, which showcased episodes from the timeframe of our childhoods.  I remember looking for DVDs of Fred Rogers but there just wasn’t anything that jumped out.  The same held true when my sons were born and I checked again.  Then a new DVD set comes along but my daughter is now seven and the boys are 5.  Would they like this now?  Would they be too jaded by all those episodes of Mighty Machines and Thomas & Friends that they had shoved into their brains?
 

            Ultimately I decided to get the set.  If they hated it or were disinterested, then tough cookies.  At the very least, I would have a nostalgic trip and chances are my wife would come along for the ride.  The set eventually came but there wasn’t really an opportunity to test it out and face the possible indifference from my children.

 

            Then fate took a turn and my eldest (by two minutes) boy decided to have a breakdown.  He had a full blown China Syndrome-like meltdown going.  (And yes, go and look that reference up.)  He wouldn’t calm down, Mommy was busy teaching, and we were getting close to bedtime.  I didn’t want to put something on that would rile him up even more, so the soothing satisfaction of blasting away Decepticons would have to wait.  Seeing that Fred Rogers set, I made the judgment call out of nowhere, “Who wants to watch Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood?”

 

The guy on the right didn't have a great puppet show.

            My younger (by two minutes) son and my daughter agreed immediately.  I shouldn’t be surprised.  No matter how mind-numbing any event that involves a chance to watch the TV might be, they are in.  With approval of 2/3^rds of the children, I popped the first disc in and hit play.  Once we got past the familiar PBS kids logo, I didn’t know what would happen.  After all, these episodes were near 40 years old.  Would the kids at the very least tolerate it?
 

            When that opening music started and Mister Rogers came in singing “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?” my fears were unfounded.  Six eyes were instantly glued to that screen.  (Okay fine, eight eyes were instantly glued to that screen.)  The boys were even participating: if Mister Rogers asked a question, the boys answered!  They were fully involved and this was before the trolley even showed up.  When we went to the Land of Make-Believe, they were on firmer ground since they recognized some of the characters from Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood.

 

The trolley was actually that huge, which isn't that huge.

            Finally, “It’s Such a Good Feeling” was being sung, Mister Rogers put away his cardigan and put on his street shoes, and he looked right at the camera saying that we were special.  He then said, “Bye, bye!” and walked out the door as the camera panned away from the model neighborhood and the jazz piano kicked into high.  It was right about at that time when I realized that the living room was just terribly dusty and there must have been many various particles in the air because that’s the only reason that comes to mind when trying to explain my reaction.  But how did the kids react?

 

            They wanted another episode!  So I obliged and as they watched the show, I watched their faces.  The elder boy had calmed down by now and was silently interacting with the show.  His facial expressions were changing, he was mouthing words, and he was smiling.  The other guy was beaming from ear to ear.  Even my daughter was eager to start watching more of the neighborhood.

 

            I don’t know why I ever thought that their reactions would have been dismissive.  After all, they are my kids and have jumped onto a lot of older franchises and shows and books that I enjoyed as a child.  Perhaps I thought the format of this particular show was just too small for them or too simple.  Maybe I thought that we were more sophisticated.  Perhaps this kind of program wouldn’t resonate with minds that are accustomed to the flashy, overblown, and effects laden children’s programming we’ve sadly come to expect.
 

I wanted that set then.  I want it now.

            But no.  Fred Rogers knew better and had a simple show where he would talk directly to the audience with care and warmth.  He never talked down to children and it created a connection.  He told every single child that they were unique individuals.  They were special because there’s no one else who was them.  These approaches worked then and judging by my children’s reactions, it still has an effect today.  My moppets never knew what the man even looked like last week and now are absolutely taken with the man and his show.
 

            His curiosity would mirror a child’s curiosity.  He would never use sarcasm or cutting remarks and the man’s sincerity was a wonder to behold.  He would use music and the puppets and interactions and field trips and honesty and would mix everything up in a nice atmosphere for children to enjoy.

            No, he never was Army sniper with a life filled with regretful killing that led him to the ministry.  No, he didn’t have arm loads of tattoos that he covered up with the cardigans.  Yes, he did give director George Romero some of his first film work and he enjoyed Romero's Dawn of the Dead (?!).  Yes, Rogers almost singlehandedly saved public television when he testified before the Senate in 1969.  Yes, I’m sure that the house wasn’t dusty and I’m just trying to cover up being a softy.

 

Mister Romero's Neighborhood was different.

  

            Fine, I have no shame in mentioning it: I missed Mister Rogers.  He was by all accounts one of the most genuine, most patient, most helpful, and nicest people on the planet.  He was sincere and knew that no matter what circumstances were at home for the kids that watched his show, those kids understood they had someone that made them feel special.  Look at the children’s TV or online content nowadays and find someone who is even fractionally comparable to Fred Rogers.  Yeah, you won’t find them. 

            I am glad that at the very least my children will grow up having a little bit of Fred Rogers in their lives.  Hopefully other nostalgic parents take the plunge and get this DVD set.  I hope sales encourage the release of other episodes.  I would never tell someone how to parent, but I think you owe it to your kids to shut the tawdry garbage off and have them get into the Neighborhood as soon as possible.