Mr. Fred Rogers died of cancer today. When I was young I used to have nightmares about Lady Elaine and the platypus family. That effeminate Daniel Tiger too, because I couldn’t decide if he was in fact a girl pretending to be a boy, or a genuine boy (were they saying Daniel or Danielle?). Perhaps Mr. Rogers’ love of cardigans transmitted itself to me. However, lest I have caused some alarm, let me here assure the Reader that I have much better taste in cardigans than Mr. Rogers ever acquired.
Much of my earlier childhood was spent watching Mr. Rogers’ Neighbourhood and Sesame Street, among other things. Mr. Rogers, Bert, Ernie, Kermit the Frog, and Oscar the Grouch taught me my ABCs. No wonder why I have a short attention-span. You know that video that had a lot of children on the playground, each singing a line of this song? Song went “We all sing with the same voice, the same song, the same voice. We all sing with the same voice and we sing in harmony.” It hopelessly confused me.
Little Sarah: Mummy, how can all these children sing with the same voice? They’re different people! Everyone has a different voice, it’s impossible.
Mum: Ah…well…dear…
After watching the aforementioned shows, I’d flip over to the networks and watch Gilligan’s Island, The Brady Bunch, and The Partridge Family. Muppets might mave taught me my ABCs and 123s, but the Partridges taught me my rock’n'roll. During the middle of the 1980s, and sometimes even still today, one of the networks ran a commercial for the Minnesota School of Bartending. A young woman, while mixing a drink, would exclaim, “I’m a bartender, and I love it! I make great money and great tips….” For some reason I found this bartending business absolutely intriguing and exciting; after watching this commercial for weeks on end, I ran up the stairs and told my mum that I knew what I was going to do in life. I was going to be a bartender! They make great money and great tips, mum, only six months of schooling! My mother gasped and I was grounded from the television for a goodly while. I don’t think she quite managed to squash my part-time bartender aspirations, though. It would make a great part-time job while I’m in school, but of course, my parents would never approve, so it’s pretty much out of the question. There’s this great, classy little bar downtown called Havana, though. They’ve got some great art and music…ah well.
Tonight my sister and her boyfriend Bryan are driving up to Lutsen, Minnesota to meet my parents and ski for the weekend. Gentle Readers, I am not entirely sure it I shall return alive and well. This could very well be the end of me. However, if I do accidentally ski off a deadly cliff, I’m certainly going to go out swinging.
Films I rented for the weekend:
Gettysburg
We Were Soldiers
Run, Lola, Run
Sense and Sensibility
Casablanca
The Boondock Saints
