I'm a Sesame Street Kid. No, I wasn't on the show. I've never even been to New York, where I always assumed Sesame Street was. But I was raised in part by Sesame Street. I'll admit it. I watched it as a kid. And somehow it's the one show that no one denies. People might say they never watched Gilligans Island or the Brady Bunch, Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, or the Shazam/Isis hour on Saturday morning. But nearly everyone I know that is my age cops to Sesame Street. We all saw it.
I really don't remember watching Sesame Street for myself. I DO remember watching with my younger sister. I remember "La, la, la, la Lemon." When on the way to the grocery store, sometimes I confuse my daughter by saying that we need a loaf of bread, a container of milk, and a stick of butter. I've wanted to attend a ladybugs picnic. I cried when Mr. Hooper died. I cried even harder when Jim Henson died. When he did, I knew I was a grown up. And I knew the world has lost one of its greatest magicians. One who could take a mundane object or concept, like a number, and make it fun. Who understood that in a child's world, magic happens every day, and animals talk, and not all monsters are scary.
So, I just wanted to say, Happy Birthday Sesame Street. And thank you for 40 years of magic.
And for all of you, one of my favorite Sesame Street moments:
