Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
OK, now I feel guilty.
As a teen, my friends and I were quick to make fun of Mister Roger's Neighborhood, the children's public broadcasting television show that lasted for so many years. I believe there was even an SLN skit where the neighborhood was supposed to be some crime-ridden ghetto.
Today, as a father of three who finds it painful to watch SuperBowls with my daughters because of increasingly crude commercials, I long for the days when children had entertainers such as Fred Rogers, easy to mock but possessed of a certain gentleness and graciousness. Especially after watching these two videos, one of him speaking to a handicapped child and the other his speech when he was given his lifetime achievement Emmy in 1998. Read the post from Elizabeth Scalia and click onto the videos. Also here's a link to the original item, which was on the Huffington Post.
Be curious if there are any who, unlike me, were fans when they were young.
- Comment (35)
- · Quote
- · UnfollowFollow (1)
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
- Pages:
- 1
- 2
Comments :
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
I really disliked Mr. Rogers when I was a kid. Thought he was a creep. Then I discovered that he was a Dartmouth alum and an ordained minister, and an all around really decent human being and felt bad for feeling such antipathy toward him for all those years.
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
I remember as a boy that there were a number of sugary shows that I would turn on that never kept my attention. Rogers was one. Ditto for Capt. Kangaroo, Bozo the Clown and I have vague recollections of a lamb sock puppet.
Not that I hated them - I gave them a shot at least.
But I remember digging Pop-Eye, Magilla Gorilla and Speed Racer. All cartoons. Isn't that interesting. Is there a shrink in the house?
Times have changed so much when I look at the cartoons my kids grew up with.
What in the world would I have thought of CatDog and SpongeBob?
May '10
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
Hey, neighbor.
I might be the youngest person ever to watch Mr. Rogers. Perhaps that explains why I can't remember a single episode. His voice, the intro song, his toy train — that's all clear. But what did he talk about?
Am I right that he used sock puppets?
I would rather see Reverend Fulton Sheen return. But Mr. Rogers is better than SpongeBob or Ren and Stimpy, I suppose.
Does any station still air old Bugs Bunny cartoons and Looney Tunes? My nephews are young yet, but they're always watching shows like Dora the Explorer, Ni Hao Kai Lan, Blues' Clues, and Dinosaur Train. Educationally, they're not bad. But Looney Tunes is how most people I know became familiar with classical music... and puns.
Nov '10
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
I loved Mr. Rogers. I think it was the Neighborhood of Make-Believe that I loved most. I just *adore* the idea of that: People and puppets living side by side in a world with a sentient trolley that runs right through the middle of everything. The Museum-Go-Round, King Friday and Queen Sarah, Neighbor Aber, Lady Aberlin.... Loved it.
Many Mr. Rogers' episodes are or were available still at PBS. Looney Tunes and Pink Panther cartoons are available from Netflix.
May '10
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
I had to grow and earn a little wisdom before I could appreciate Mr. Rogers.
Dec '10
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
He was no Mr. Wizard, but he was a voice of kindness, a value that I think serves you well in all you do, and I enjoyed him as a child. I long for the days when you didn't have to make kids programing a afirmative action campaign, you were just emphatic. When you say be kind, say... and mean everyone.
I however spent the lions share of my tube-time during my formative years gleaning daily instruction from a guy in a giant foam Bible costume name Psalty.
Jun '10
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
My children watched Mr. Rogers every afternoon. My restless daughter would sit mesmerized. I always wondered why until I finally understood that she felt like Mr. Rogers was talking right to her. He was a gift to parents and children alike.
Jul '10
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
A gentle man with a sweet spirit. Mr Rogers was a calming influence after the sometimes high energy Sesame Street or Electric Company. Is there any children's programming that still does quiet and thoughtful in lieu of loud and vapid?
Jul '10
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
We were taking our son Nate on a picnic and while driving through Latrobe (near Pittsburgh) we pulled up to a red light and who was in the car next to us but Mr. Rogers. Nate (5 years old, then) squealed with delight and put the window down. Mr. Rogers did likewise and chatted with Nate. Nothing mattered to Mr. Rogers other than the conversation. It was Mr. Rogers’ kindness and complete sincerity that showed so beautifully that day. Three more red lights allowed the two of them to have a wonderful conversation. Children never forget such kindnesses shown them.
Mar '11
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
My children currently watch Mr Rogers reruns from time to time. It isn't as flashy as the new stuff so it is rarely requested but when I put it on they love it.The beauty of the show is in the respect Mr Rogers shows the children. And not just the way he speaks to them but the subtle way he behaves. He doesn't sing a goofy song about shoe tying, he ties his shoes in full view. He doesn't do a Clean Up dance, he cleans up.He put a great deal of thought into those shows. They're brilliant.
Mar '11
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
Mr. Rogers was for very young kids. By the time a kid is over 6 or so, that kind of show doesn't appeal to them, especially boys. I would run home from school to catch Speed Racer on TV. Can't say that I ever had that kind of devotion to a show like Mr. Rogers Neighborhood.
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
Aaron, you're totally right: Looney Tunes are great art, and much better than the dreck they make these days.
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
Bill, here's the obit I wrote for Newsweek International when Fred Rogers died:
(in parts, pesky word limit...)
A few years ago, I had trouble with one of my neighbors. It began as a series of friendly disagreements over such things as trash can placement, fence maintenance, and misdirected mail. It escalated into larger, more complicated issues such as whether the alley behind our houses is a good place for homeless people to set up camp (she: "Sure, fine"; me: "Get the hose") and exactly how many minutes of continuous yippy barking from a tiny dot-sized dog a normal person is supposed to endure before he pops a gasket (she: "Half an hour"; me: "Get the hose. Now.")
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
But I was born in 1965, and at three years old I remember watching a sweet-tempered man appear on our flickering black and white television once a day to teach American kids about neighborliness and getting along. His name was Fred Rogers - Mister Rogers, to you - and each episode of his quiet, thoughtful television show, Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, began with a simple song that is now etched into the brains of most Americans my age. "It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood/It's a beautiful day for a neighbor/Would you be mine?"
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
Each episode would open the same way: Mr. Rogers would enter the spare living-room set in a jacket and tie, and as he warbled his happy anthem in his distinctive watery voice, he'd proceed to change out of his nice dress shoes into a pair of sneakers, and out of his jacket and into a nice cardigan sweater. In other words, he'd change into his "play clothes," something I, too, had to do - though with a good deal more resentment and irritation. Still, the song, the ritual, the emphasis on happy coexistence - it was embedded somewhere in my mind deep enough so that when confronted by neighbor troubles of my own, I knew what to do.
The driving thrust of Mr. Rogers' philosophy was that talking things out was the only truly effective path to conflict resolution (he used different words, of course) and that we should never be ashamed of our feelings. So with that in mind, I tapped into my inner Mr. Rogers and knocked on my neighbor's front door. She opened it, just a crack.
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
"Hi," I began. "You know, I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot. I certainly appreciate your compassion for the homeless, and I think little Twinkles is just the most amazing dog, really - I never knew that dogs could be that small! I mean, I've eaten chicken legs bigger than him - but, see, I work at home a lot, and so the barking...well, you see what I'm saying. And maybe if we could get the lovely couple that lives in the box my refrigerator came in to maybe, oh, I don't know, not defecate quite so close to my kitchen window..."And on it went. I shared my feelings. She shared back. I promised not to toss my wine bottles into her recycling bin. She promised to stop making omelets for the homeless encampment. I promised to squinch my car closer to the curb so she could have room to park. She promised to put her miserable dog to sleep.
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
Well, that last part isn't true. The barking, of course, went on its merry way, the dog, clearly, never having viewed an episode of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood. But my neighbor and I had forged some kind of peaceful relationship. We weren't friends. But we weren't antagonists, either. We got along, in the most meaningful sense of the phrase. And when she moved away a year or two later, I was actually sorry to see her go.Well, that last part isn't true. She was replaced by a relentlessly cheerful lesbian couple who painted and planted aggressively and whose noisiest accessory was a bread baking machine. But it really wouldn't have mattered. Mr. Rogers taught the importance of neighborliness to all.
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
I remembered all of this because yesterday I heard that Fred Rogers died, at 74, of cancer. His show had been nationally broadcast since 1968 - it was perhaps the only decent and lasting cultural artifact of that foolish and self-indulgent year - and it was so much a part of the weave of my generation that it was hard not to get all silly and sentimental about it. Hard not to think about getting older. Hard not to think about what a quiet, low-key genius the man was, who managed to hold the attention of children over the span of a forty-year career, without purple dinosaurs, music video editing, merchandise tie-ins, or pseudo-hip condescension.
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
Every now and then, Mr. Rogers would leave the studio and take the show on a field trip to some interesting place - a dairy farm, say, or a shoe repair store. These were always my favorite shows. I loved the simplicity and the relaxed sense of time. Mr. Rogers would ask the farmer or cobbler basic questions - the kind of questions a four year-old asks - about why things smell and feel the way they do, how long does it take, what's your favorite color - and then he'd just let the camera roll, minutes and minutes of milking or cobbling or lawn mowing or whatever. It was so peaceful, and so respectful of his audience.
A few weeks ago, home with a fever, I flipped on the television and was captivated by a long segment at the Hershey chocolate factory. They were making Hershey's Kisses, and they showed rows and rows of Kisses getting squirted out of the machines and wrapped in foil.
"It's Mister Rogers' Neighborhood," I thought to myself, and I turned up the volume to get the full effect of his croaky voice.
Re: Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood Redux
But it wasn't Mr. Rogers. It was Martha Stewart, who seems to have adopted Mr. Rogers' unblinking gaze and quiet, pared-down aesthetic. Martha likes long, steady camera angles too - no wacky angles or fast dolly shots for her - and she's somehow managed to adopt Mr. Rogers' dignified, restrained delivery. She's enthusiastic about stuff, but not over the top. When she demonstrates an arts-and-craft project, or interviews a guest, or goes on a video field trip, it's a slightly more uptight but still pretty mellow vibe. In fact, if you turn on the TV like I did, with the sound off, the only way you can be sure you're watching Martha Stewart and not Fred Rogers is that Martha's scissors have sharp points and Mr. Rogers' are rounded.Martha's caught my generation on the other side of life, I guess, when we're more interested in making our own photo albums and roasting monkfish than talking about what makes us afraid or building a make-believe forest.