Where the air is sweet.

I need to write about Sesame Street.  I love it so much.  Last summer when we went to Sesame Place, Marley had not one tantrum, and I was giddy and star-struck when I got to stand beside Super Grover on my last afternoon there.  For many years, I have maintained that if I were famous, my dream cameo would be on Sesame Street.  Just hanging out, talking about the letter Q.  Whatever.

Last week, an article in Time magazine called President Obama the "first President from Sesame Street" because he's the first president young enough to have watched when he was young.  In a clip at the end of the article, Obama congratulates Sesame Workshop on its fortieth year and references "Elmo and Big Bird, and all of their pals," and he's so casual and familiar with these guys that I just know he could sing the first few lines of "Me and My Llama" seconds after the White House Press Corps requested it.  Not that they would.  The article also quotes Michelle Obama after shooting a PSA with Elmo last month: "I think it's probably the best thing I've done so far in the White House."  Of course it is.  I totally get that.

And Barack Obama watched the good Sesame Street.  I mean, it's still wonderful and funny and educational, and I prefer it to many, many vapid and commercial children's shows on the air and On Demand at any moment.  Sesame Workshop is a commendable organization that does amazing things around the world, including Israel's Rechov Sumsum and Palestine's Shara'a Simsim, which could help achieve peace in the Middle East just as well as anything else.  Anyhow, I know other moms whose preschoolers are so over Elmo and Oscar.  But why rush it?  What's next?  I'll tell you: stupid Hannah Montana and High School Musical 27.  Marley is nearly four, and she still giggles at Ernie's hijinks.  I mean, Marley will get to iCarly, but if it takes a while, fine by me.  And we've got six DVDs worth of Old School Sesame Street that she loves to watch, and I'm right there with her.  Volumes One and Two cover 1969-1974.  That's Obama's Ernie and Bert, and they're pretty much the same guys I watched in the late 70s and early 80s.

In the beginning, Sesame Street was so relaxed.  It looks as though it was often ad-libbed, like Debo hanging out on a wall with Kermit and Grover and talking about the letter X.  The show was intensely researched, but it still feels so chill.  Segments last full minutes or more, like the one when the sheep get out and the gentle hippie farmer and his daughters herd them back into their pen.  Or remember when the two kids lose their dog Ace and have to go to a printing press to make signs to hang around the city?  It's practically five minutes long.

Now, aside from "Elmo's World," ten to fifteen minutes that follow the same format without deviation, everything feels like a twenty-second ad.  And the Muppets don't hang out as much; they have particular roles to fill.  For a while, Ernie played an elaborate game of hide-and-seek called "Journey to Ernie" and Grover was too busy introducing clips from around the globe to annoy that blue guy at the restaurant who never gets what he wants.  And remember Roosevelt Franklin?  Probably not.

Here's what I think.  Sesame Street certainly stays relevant.  The show today is like being a kid today.  There's not as much going outside and just playing.  Just making things up and hanging out.  Everything is scheduled, and toys and television are marketed and marketed and marketed.  And I'm a part of that, too.  But I try not to be.  I almost made a new mom friend at a playground last summer.  And then I ran into her at the library on a Friday, which is when Storytimes are scheduled.  Marley did Storytime before she turned three, but then I stopped signing her up because she was in preschool two mornings a week, she had gymnastics another morning, and isn't that enough?  I was starting to explain that when this mother went on about how they kept busy with school, Storytime, and I forget what else, but that they were still looking for something to fill their free day.  How about a Free Day?  Or two?

How about just kicking back and singing the alphabet all silly?  How about being a little ridiculous kid?  Come and play?  Everything's a-okay?  Remember?