For Love of Snuffleupagus.

There are many days when I believe the world, or at lease my part of the world, has become a parody of itself. Today there is an article in the Times about Sesame Street. The powers that be have come to decided that the early, pre-Elmo, episodes of Sesame Street are not suitable for children.

"The show rolled, and the sweet trauma came flooding back. What they did to us was hard-core. Man, was that scene rough. The masonry on the dingy brownstone at 123 Sesame Street, where the closeted Ernie and Bert shared a dismal basement apartment, was deteriorating. Cookie Monster was on a fast track to diabetes. Oscar’s depression was untreated. Prozacky Elmo didn’t exist."

It's a sad, sad state of affairs when you have to subversively introduce your children to the Cookie Monster who is actually a monster with a great love of cookies, the Oscar who is allowed to just be grouchy without being diagnosable, and the Big Bird is allowed to have a very large friend who no one else sees. We miss you, Snuffy.