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Sesame Street Is A Dump

11 Feb

February 11, 2014

Like pretty much all of us, I grew up on Sesame Street. Because of that show I can count, I can read, I can spell, I can live a garbage can like Oscar the Grouch. So what did I learn from public school? How to cut class.

But I recently had opportunity (I was bored) to watch a very, very old episode from Sesame Street’s second season in 1970. Wow, the 70’s were a very different time. And Sesame Street? Full of trash. It was a total pigsty!

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Ok, you expect some trash when one of the main characters is a filthy green hobo, but this is excessive. What’s with all the burlap? What’s with all the crates? I don’t get it. But it gets worse.

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Look at the ground- there is trash everywhere! Under the mailbox, piled up by the newsstand, all around the people’s feet. Doesn’t anyone on the block have a broom?

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Look at the background, behind the cool cat- more crates! What is in all these boxes just scattered around? And Bert and Ernie are standing in front of an old shipping pallet. Are there a lot of warehouses on Sesame Street?

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And that wall in the back- filthy and full of soot. Is that a foundry? A rendering plant? A smelter? I hope none of kids picked up black lung disease. (BTW- that is not a flattering picture of Big Bird.)

Since then, Sesame Street has gotten a lot cleaner. I think it was some sort of federal government urban renewal project.

All this is proof, I think, that Sesame Street is in New York. NYC was pretty dirty back in the 70’s too.

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If I Won The Lottery

31 Jan

January 30, 2014

If I won the lottery, for millions of dollars, maybe 500 million of them then I’d buy a house, buy my mom a house, quit my job, buy a solid gold toilet, yada yada yada, all the usual stuff people say they’d do. Sure, I’d pay off my credit cards, invest in the stock market, ride a hippo in the Kentucky Derby, all the usual things people do when they become filthy stinking rich.

But that’s not my dream.

I’d speed down the highway. wind whipping my hair, enjoying the envious stares of the other drivers, as I zoom past them in the coolest car in the world.

The Batmobile.

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There is NO COOLER CAR IN THE WORLD.

Sure, I considered other cars.

  • The A-Team van? Too enclosed. No one would see whooping and hollering.
  • Magnum’s Ferrari? (OK, Robin Masters’ Ferrari.) Very cool, but still just a Ferrari.
  • KITT? Only if I could use the turbo boost to jump over traffic.
  • The General Lee? Not without shooting dynamite arrows out the window, and that might get me into too much trouble.
  • And The Millennium Falcon? Not technically a car.

And if I were driving the Batmobile, I would finally have a legitimate reason to wear a cape.

 

I’d drive the Batmobile down the highway just to see the look of envy on every other driver’s face. All those mooks in their Hyundai’s and Ford Fairlanes, drooling over the Batmobile, wishing they were me, wearing my cape, zooming down the highway, with somebody dressed as Robin in the front seat, or maybe just a classy escort I rented for the day (hey, I’m rich!) I’d get the whole thing on YouTube, it would go viral, and I’d do it again the next day. Unless it was raining. There’s no top on the Batmobile. That’s why Batman never fought crime in bad weather, and you just know that if it rained and he opened up an umbrella, it would be one the Penguin’s rigged explosive umbrellas. 

Oh yes, to be rich. I can just picture it now.

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That could be me! What a great Batman I’d make. OK, I’d probably break a lot of traffic laws and definitely wouldn’t stop any crimes, but my dream isn’t to tangle with the Riddler, it’s to zoom down the highway in the Batmobile. So you can take you other lottery dreams (flying to the moon, buying an island in the Pacific) and forget it. I’ve got you beat.

 

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