Be the Grouch

Drythe has something good to say about Oscar here. She is right about Sesame Street doing a better job with a range of human emotions than most children’s shows these days. On most shows, emotions seem to be flat and sanitary, simple and without a lot of passion (good or bad). When was the last time you saw a show for young people that included a kid really popping their cork in anger? When, any of you who are around kids regularly, was the last time you saw an actual kid pop his or her cork in anger? Uh huh.

Even the saccharin sweet Sesame Street characters have complicated feelings. Elmo (red monster) and Zoe (orange monster in tutu) are good friends and play together often. Zoe has a pet rock named, wait for it, Rocco, and she takes Rocco’s feelings very seriously. Rocco has to get his turn on the swings and put in his two cents about what they play. Elmo loves Zoe, but he gets very frustrated with the rock. It is, as Elmo finally yells at Zoe, Just a Rock!!! This interchange deals with Elmo’s initial annoyance, which builds to frustration and finally erupts into anger, and then, with the intervention of a kind adult, the reconciliation of the two monster friends. Now, yes, it’s oversimplified and tidy, but, as Drythe points out, the story happens in about twenty minutes. And if you’ve ever seen two siblings squabble about how to play and what to play, you know that fights often take a similar course, and that few minutes after an eruption of hurt feelings, yelling, and tears, they often are right back to giggling and rolling on the floor.

Oscar is another example of a character who consistently portrays emotions on the grouchy end of the spectrum. And as I pointed out before, he’s not a “bad guy,” nor is anyone else on Sesame Street. When was the last time you saw a “bad guy” on a children’s show? When was the last time you had a face-to-face with your nemesis on the street? Oscar is gruff, grouchy, direct, somewhat intolerant, but he’s also loving, generous, stable, resourceful. He gently reads a bedtime story and tucks in Slimy every night. He chuckles and says he just loves to see the little guy sleep.

I can think of a lot of other storylines on Sesame Street that have addressed jealousy (Baby Bear with his new sister), fear (Abby Cadabby (sp?) getting ready for her first day of school, the big wind that destroyed Big Bird’s nest), obsession (Telly and his triangle collection), silliness (The Honker, Duckie, Dinger Jamboree—say that five times fast, I dare ya), not to mention the treatment of specific life events. Elmo’s dad is deployed to Iraq. Families grow. Parents go to work. Friends fight. People die (anyone remember when Mr. Hooper died? Sigh.) And I don’t even see the show regularly.

The preternaturally calm adults are still there. Though, to be fair, the grown-ups do sometimes get annoyed, flustered, and impatient, though in muted ways. They are sometimes busy. But they do try their best to be supportive of the little characters around them.

As a sort of aside, one of the genius things that the show did from the very first episode in 1969, make the monsters lovable. I can recall a time when Sonar X7 was dreaming or worried about monsters, and I reminded him that Elmo and Cookie Monster were monsters, so we knew that all monsters aren’t bad or scary. It was such a handy tool in reassuring him to be able to think of the good monsters he knew and loved.

Ha. So, I started off this post thinking, Drythe has a good point, Sesame Street is doing ok with emotion. And as I’ve gone on, I’ve talked myself into believing that the show is really doing a great job. And now you should go write a letter to your federal representatives and tell them that you want to continue to support public broadcasting in our country (if I recall, a funding vote on public broadcasting in the U.S. is coming up soon). Participate in this civic enterprise because you can.

I Love Trash

I will be 35 later this year, and so I was a preschooler in the grand old days when Sesame Street was golden and relatively new, and was really teaching kids how to read and be socially literate. You know, back when the show was vaguely “dangerous” because it was sort of gritty, and open, and full of characters with “personality disorders”? I was obsessed with the show. I had a Big Bird alarm clock (‘Wake up, Wake up, you sleepyhead! It’s time to get up, get out of bed!’). A blue furry Cookie Monster coat with googly eyes on the hood. And of course, books, an Ernie, and other toys.

My kids aren’t so much interested in Sesame Street most of the time. But when we watch it now, I always have this vaguely bland taste in my mouth, knowing how dilute it is compared to when I watched it as a child. Knowing that the corporate sponsorships of the show indicate the shift from educating urban children who might otherwise have preparation gaps, to entertaining affluent suburban children.

Like all public television programming today, Sesame Street and the Children’s Television Workshop mostly pay their own way compared to when I was young. The one major government grant of Sesame Street is “Ready to Learn Grant from the U.S. Department of Education,” a part of No Child Left Behind. But seriously, the curricular content of Sesame Street isn’t what it once was. Besides teaching me to read, I know friends who, along with their families, learned how to speak English by watching the show. I just don’t see how that would be possible now. Go watch it and tell me what you think.

But this is not about the state of public television in America, nor about Sesame Street in general. This is a post about Oscar the Grouch.

Here is his theme as I recall it:

“I love trash. Anything dingy or dirty or dusty. Anything ragged or wrinkled or rusty. Etc.”

I’m sure you can find the rest of it out there somewhere in the ether.

Oscar was of course that scruffy green monster from Sesame Street, who kept a pet worm (Slimy) and a pet elephant (I can’t recall the name) in his trash can home. Who growled at the kids, monsters, and muppets to be quiet anytime their jubilance got a little gagging. In promos now, Oscar is often compared to Simon on American Idol, that grouchy dude who we all love because he’s not really bad, he just has a different way of looking at the world and sharing his feelings about it. Ha.

Earlier this week, my Russian friend was telling me about her visit to a live Sesame Street show. One of those vaguely freaky affairs where the muppets are six-feet tall. She and her child liked the show and the different characters, but she didn’t understand Oscar. Wondered about the cultural significance and the value of a song about being grouchy and loving trash. “Is it good,” she wondered, “for kids to love trash and want to live in trash and be trashy? What is this Oscar all about?”

I laughed. Because I wasn’t really sure what to say to her at first.

So how would you explain Oscar to your Russian or Hindi or Martian friend?

Here are some possibilities:

—Oscar represents that part of us that doesn’t want to be polite or couth or tactful and simply speaks his mind when and how he wishes. He offers a counterpoint to the rest of the exceedingly polite and cute muppets. And while he’s not always gentle, he’s not entirely outside the realm of acceptable behavior. Being in touch with your grouchy side is not a bad thing.

—On the issue of trash, Oscar was recycling way back in the day. Back before anyone even talked about recycling, let alone did it at the curb. He saw the value in things that were cast off by other people.

— (I think this is a corollary to my first idea) Oscar represents that part of all of us that likes to get dirty, muddy, and grungy. Who isn’t afraid to put a swimming pool in the living room and go swimming with an elephant.

—Oscar, though his identity deviates from the muppet norm, is confident and firm in his self-identity and the way he wants to live his life. He shows kids that not everybody has to be like Elmo or Ernie. The way the other muppets treat Oscar (generally they greet him with good-natured laughter and love, and rarely get ruffled by his gruffness) also demonstrates that it’s important to respect all of the different monsters in your life.

What do you think? Whither goest the cultural significance of The Grouch?