Funny how one thing can lead to another. I was on the phone with my son telling him that he was the subject of a RobZerrvation when the subject of kiddy shows came up. It quickly sank into a “Neener, Neener, my shows were better than yours” call out. I maintained that Banana Splits and H.R. Pufnstuf were far superior to the Wiggles and Teletubbies. He disagreed.
He readily yielded Dora the Explorer but maintained that the Teletubbies and the Banana Splits were virtually the same. I was beyond shocked. You can’t tell me that Tinky Winky held a candle to Snorky or even Fleegle, I said. The Banana Splits played instruments and they had cartoons. Parker shot back that the Teletubbies were obviously high on something that grew in Teletubbyland and they did have the Noo Noo.
I then pulled out the big gun. “You know son, I loved you so much that I even took you to see the Wiggles and Blue’s Clues in concert. I had a choice between that and getting a lobotomy that day, and should have really chosen the lobotomy. I knew it would be far more enjoyable.”
He shot back that he didn’t even want to go to the Wiggles and if I remember, he fell asleep part way through it. He was right, he had. I knew I didn’t want to go the Wiggles either (see lobatomy above) so it had to be his mother’s idea. We both chose to blame her.
I don’t know who wanted to see Blue’s Clues. It was two hours I will never get back in my life, filled with a guy in a striped shirt, a blue dog who was much smarter than striped shirt guy, a talking mailbox and hundreds of screaming children.
If you’ve never been high you can still know what it feels like by going to a live performance of a TV kiddy show. It is nothing short of LSD for children. Lots of strange creatures who talk, colorful sets with quirky shaped doors and windows and a plot that is ever changing yet non-sensical. It’s a trip without having to find a dealer. You just walk up to the box office and you’re off on a primo hallucinatory experience.
The same could be true of Mr. Roger’s Land of Make Believe. Again, I’ve never been high enough to think that puppets were actually real people but I did have a slight crush on Lady Aberlin, who it turns out was also a regular on the Smothers Brothers Show. I know, me and older women. It was happening even when I was a young boy, a beardless youth.
In Parker’s entertainment sphere, the Wiggles had to be the worst. First, the songs they sing are catchy enough that they stay in your head for days at a time. You don’t remember any of the words, but the melody is locked into your cortex, thumping it constantly with jungle rhythms that are designed to convince you to buy a Wiggles CD so you can enjoy the concert experience over and over in the sanctity of your own home. Or worse, a Captain Feathersword sword. If you’ve ever seen it, it’s a big feather with a handle. You plunk down $25 at the table outside for about 50ยข worth of materials.
As a pirate entertainer, it was about all I could take. Worse, the Wiggles were on their second show and couldn’t seem to remember any of the words. Either they were tired or they had hooked up with the Teletubbies in the alley between shows.
Parker was making a good case, but I quickly countered that they didn’t have live theater shows when I was a kid. Instead, you sat mesmerized in front of the Boob Tube watching the Banana Splits and H.R. Pufnstuf. Now, we all new that HR Pufnstuf was also like tripping out on acid back then. But we were hooked. There was Jimmy and his magic flute (like there isn’t a double entendre there), Witchiepoo with her Vroom Broom and cowboy boot wearing H.R. Pufnstuf, whose name obviously had nothing to do with the drug culture.
Now I was a pretty innocent kid back then. I still am in some respects. I’ve never taken a hit of anything illegal. I’ve never even tried a cigarette, even once. But I still knew what was going on in the world and H.R. Pufnstuf. Time has not ben any kinder to the show. If you watch the playbacks on YouTube now, the show is just as strange as it was back then.
But I don’t think any of these shows hold a candle to XuXa. If you never watched a XuXa show, you’re lucky. I watched one or two of the episodes of XuXa with my daughter. This was in 1993.
XuXa was a Brazilian entertainer. She would sing a song really badly, dance with her Paquitas and let Jelly and Jam, the Panda and Jaguar, do most of the work. XuXa for her part, didn’t seem to like children at all. Her saving grace was that she wore skimpy outfits and boots. She would also leave red lipstick all over prepubescent boys at the end of each show. It is one of the oddest shows I have ever seen, yet you couldn’t take your eyes off of it.
Thankfully, the show was yanked off the air after two years because parents had complained so much. I was always surprised she wasn’t booked on assault fo the way she man-handled the little children that go in her way during her “performance.”
Now that my youngest is 13, I don’t have to worry about any more live kiddy shows. I admit that this does not sadden me. For I have been to the mountaintop and I have looked over it. I’ve seen the promised land. And it isn’t Teletubbyland. But I am hoping that XuXa is there.
Out on the Treasure Coast, wondering what ever became of mini-skirted Emmy Jo from the New Zoo Revue,
– Robb