The Horror of Big Bird
When I was a kid, I always assumed Sesame Street was as old as dirt. I thought it had been around forever. As it turns out, it was a few months younger than me. It first aired on this day in 1969. And I was among its most ardent fans a couple of years later.

I loved Big Bird. I think I even referred to the show as "Big Bird" when I was three or something. I wanted to watch Big Bird. All the other characters - Kermit, the Cookie Monster, Mr. Snuffleupagus, Ernie and Bert - they rocked, too. But for me, the show was all about Big Bird.

But periodically, my parents would ban me from watching the show. Because, while I consciously loved big bird, subconsciously he apparently scared the hell out of me. At night, when the lights were out, Big Bird would haunt my nightmares, with his smiling, dopey expression. And I'd wake up screaming and crying about Big Bird.

Not that I remember much of this. I take this on faith from my mother's telling of it. By the next day, I'd have forgotten the entire experience. I would want to watch more Sesame Street and provide my subconscious brain with yet more ammunition to assault me with the following night. Oh, yes. Ours was an abusive, dysfunctional relationship.

There is only one time I really remember Big Bird's reign of terror. I was for some reason pushing an empty cardboard box to my room. Big cardboard boxes are the ultimate toy for a four-year-old. Anyway, the box was so large that I could barely peek over the top of it. For some reason, the hallway was dark, and it was at night, shortly before bedtime.

You know how your eyes play tricks with you in the darkness, and you can't see very well when moving from a well-lit living room down a darkened hall? Yeah. Well, the after-image of the light (and television?) got jumbled up, and as I peeked into the darkness over the top of the box, I saw - faintly - the disembodied head of the Evil One himself, Big Bird. His head filled the hallway, and his smiling beak beneath his dopey eyes was wide open, ready to accept his next meal with cardboard and all. Fortunately for me, I'd had the foresight to look where I was going before stumbling right into that felt-covered gaping maw.

So I screamed and ran, howling over tears to my parents that Big Bird's head was in the hallway! The fact that it was trying to eat me was left unspoken, because that was just plain obvious. Why else would he have been lurking in the darkness in front of the door to my room?

Now, okay, I completely understood that it wasn't the REAL Big Bird in the hallway. And that this giant head was far too large to belong to the real Big Bird. And that the phantom-y transparent image I'd seen was probably not something of true physical form. But was I going to take that risk? HELL NO!

And as far as I know, I might not be here today if I'd kept going. Nor do I know if I was the only succulent little pre-schooler Big Bird had intended as his victim. How many other children fell victim to his appetites?

My parents renewed the ban on Sesame Street that night, much to my chagrin. It was no fair! Why wouldn't they let me watch Sesame Street? I wanted to watch Big Bird some more!

So happy birthday, Sesame Street. You taught me a lot about numbers, letters, and how human beings should treat each other --- and muppets. But most of all, you taught me the meaning of the word, "terror." I'd no be who I am today without you.

Labels: Geek Life

- posted by The Rampant Coyote @ 5:56 AM (Permalink)