01 May 2014

0 debo and i are talking about "the muppet babies"

like you do. and all we can remember is the first bit of the theme music. where they go "muppet BAYbies..."

and i ask, "why is it we don't remember the rest of that song?"

and she says, "because that's the point at which we'd go running to the television to watch it."

she says this and from somewhere way back in the deep forest of memory, i kind of almost can remember it. how, in our house on harbert, the one with the den off their bedroom, we'd leave the tv on and wander into the bedroom to do i know not what, keeping our ears perked for that music, for those opening words, upon hearing which we would- as she said- go running to the television, plop on the saggy green couch and curl up under a grandma ruth blanket with a box of nilla wafers.

she posted it on fb a few weeks ago, this theme song, and- i kid you not- i cried.

like i did on the tube when reading the preface to brian's book on jim henson.

so apparently there's something about the muppets that is the key to my childhood heart- the childhood heart usually locked deep within the one i expose and exploit in writing on a fairly regular basis. the childhood heart the contents of which even i am uncertain.

in there, the muppets are evidently somehow so important they hurt. i wonder if it's something to do with the line "we make our dreams come true"...


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