It's a given: if you grew up in a house with a television, you watched "Sesame Street" as a child. For our generation, tuning in to the show was almost as fundamental to childhood as teething or potty training. By combining human actors with an eight foot yellow bird and a band of furry monsters, "Sesame Street" has been teaching valuable lessons to young children since 1969 -- thirty-five years, as the Count Von Count would inform you. To commemorate the impressive anniversary, PBS aired an hour long-primetime special on Sunday night, entitled "Sesame Street: The Street We Live On."
The most striking aspect of "Sesame Street," at least to someone who hasn't watched a new episode in likely over a decade, is how little it has changed. I remember already thinking when I was younger that Luis and Maria and Susan and Gordon, the human couples that populate the neighborhood, seemed to have been on the show forever.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered that they are all still on the show, looking spry and always ready to teach Big Bird about sharing. Obviously the ageless Muppet characters would still be around, but there's something remarkable about the fact that the same human actors are playing a part in a child's life the same way that they played a part in that child's parent's life.
One thing that has changed over the years (besides Ernie's hair, which has taken on a slicker look) is the popularity of Elmo, the little red monster who sparked the tickle-me-stuffed animal craze of Christmas past. He has become the break-out star, and a few years back they introduced a segment called "Elmo's World," which ostensibly takes place in Elmo's crayon-heavy imagination. It is through this format that "The Street We Live On" unfolds.
When Elmo decides he wants to learn more about Sesame Street and the people that live on it, Grover arrives to fulfill his request. With the help of a magic cab, Grover takes Elmo on a trip back through time, before Elmo ever arrived on Sesame Street. In the flashbacks Elmo encounters Mr. Hooper, whose death was discussed openly on a groundbreaking episode of Sesame Street, and the marriage of Luis and Maria.
Fret not, for the show still retains its staples, such as the letter and number of the day. "The Street We Live On" was brought to us by the letter "C" and the number "10." The program also featured a new rendition of "C is for Cookie," set in ancient Egypt. The concept of ten was demonstrated colorfully by a series of shorts, including a monster parade presided over by the Count, and a short clip that must have been from the seventies.
As a way of dealing with the changing world, the crew behind "Sesame Street" added new parts to these classic features. A prime example is the Spanish word of the day (in this instance, "Casa," delightfully acted out by Slimey, Oscar the Grouch's pet worm). The show has always had a diverse cast, but it seems like they've taken even more steps to include every kind of child. For example, there was a CGI short starring a wheelchair bound child and a sketch with Grover about Chinese dance. Surely, "Sesame Street" has evolved to foster an even greater message of acceptance and respect.
The show ends with Elmo telling everyone how much he loves them and Sesame Street, which obviously necessitates them to break out into a rather corny song. In fact, most of the songs were kind of mediocre, but four year olds are probably not as critical as college students, and would probably be swept up in a song about love.
After the song, the special closed with a year by year montage of clips from the series thirty-five seasons. This, I think, is when the cultural implications and the genius of the show really shine through, showing classic segments including the Monsterpiece Theatre.
What was really astonishing about the show is that the characters are still genuinely funny. Whenever Cookie Monster ravages a cookie, it's hard not to crack a smile; same with when Grover puts on a cape and becomes Super Grover. And when Bert covers his ears and wriggles in bed while Ernie dances himself to sleep. One can only hope that "Sesame Street" will last for another thirty-five years so further generations of children can learn valuable lessons from Snuffleupagus, while at the same time breaking into fits of laughter.
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