I like you just the way you are. You know that, don't you?
So today I caught the tail end of an episode of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood, the part when he starts singing to the viewer (The "Good Feeling" song, I believe it's called).
I started crying and I'm still crying 20 minutes later.
However I'm having trouble deciding if I'm crying because I was so touched by the song, having not heard it for well over a decade and still remembering most of the lyrics, or because it reminded me that Mr. Rogers died 4 years ago and that there is nobody like him around anymore.
It's probably both, really.
I was asked once in a class, not too long ago, who the person who inspired me the most was and people were shocked that my response was Mr. Rogers. Most who knew me expected Freddie Mercury. Don't get me wrong, Freddie Mercury had a sort of power in his voice and onstage that nobody has ever come close to matching and I do know more about him than should be considered healthy and I defend him to the death against the crazy people who say Robert Plant was better, but that's more of a "worship" thing, for lack of a better term.
Mr. Rogers was someone I feel like I knew. At times when I felt others were distant, Mr. Rogers was my best friend. He was a lot like a grandfather, probably much more than my real ones (One was somewhat distant and died when I was quite young and the other was just so far away). He always had a project of some kind to do, helped me deal with bad things, and he always said he liked me for who I was and I never even met him.
But there wasn't much special about him except for the fact that he was such a genuinely nice guy. He wasn't a very good singer, his attire wasn't exactly hip, nothing was particularly colorful in his show, and even though he was endlessly nice, it wasn't mind-numbingly stupid nice. He didn't dress up as a giant yellow/purple/orange farce of nature, didn't push endless amounts of cheap plastic crap on kids, the guy was a legend.
I think the reason that I liked him is that he was down to earth and never insulted my intelligence. He helped me deal alot with the real world rather than make me escape to my imagination. The imagination was a place to enjoy oneself without getting so wrapped up in it that you ignore good things in the real world.
45 minutes after starting this entry, I feel much better. I'm very thankful that PBS still runs The 'Hood.
I started crying and I'm still crying 20 minutes later.
However I'm having trouble deciding if I'm crying because I was so touched by the song, having not heard it for well over a decade and still remembering most of the lyrics, or because it reminded me that Mr. Rogers died 4 years ago and that there is nobody like him around anymore.
It's probably both, really.
I was asked once in a class, not too long ago, who the person who inspired me the most was and people were shocked that my response was Mr. Rogers. Most who knew me expected Freddie Mercury. Don't get me wrong, Freddie Mercury had a sort of power in his voice and onstage that nobody has ever come close to matching and I do know more about him than should be considered healthy and I defend him to the death against the crazy people who say Robert Plant was better, but that's more of a "worship" thing, for lack of a better term.
Mr. Rogers was someone I feel like I knew. At times when I felt others were distant, Mr. Rogers was my best friend. He was a lot like a grandfather, probably much more than my real ones (One was somewhat distant and died when I was quite young and the other was just so far away). He always had a project of some kind to do, helped me deal with bad things, and he always said he liked me for who I was and I never even met him.
But there wasn't much special about him except for the fact that he was such a genuinely nice guy. He wasn't a very good singer, his attire wasn't exactly hip, nothing was particularly colorful in his show, and even though he was endlessly nice, it wasn't mind-numbingly stupid nice. He didn't dress up as a giant yellow/purple/orange farce of nature, didn't push endless amounts of cheap plastic crap on kids, the guy was a legend.
I think the reason that I liked him is that he was down to earth and never insulted my intelligence. He helped me deal alot with the real world rather than make me escape to my imagination. The imagination was a place to enjoy oneself without getting so wrapped up in it that you ignore good things in the real world.
45 minutes after starting this entry, I feel much better. I'm very thankful that PBS still runs The 'Hood.