Norah Jones and Elmo

In my previous post, I wrote about Sesame Street's influence on my childhood. I guess if I keep looking further back, I'm bound to rediscover something.

Well, I did rediscover something. At the risk of sounding stupid and stating the friggin obvious, Sesame Street influenced my adolescent life stage, too.

What am I getting at? Let me explain. I downloaded this video clip a couple of years ago. The first time I watched it, I was mesmerized like a Golden Retriever puppy to his first bouncing tennis ball. Something clicked. My inner child (or whatever psychoanalysts prefer to call it) held hands with my inner adolescent dude (or whatever title sounds "in") and hung out like they were long lost siblings. Elmo, who as far as I can remember was not yet "born" in the 70s, sat with jazz/blues siren Norah Jones while she played piano.

How did I feel when I was watching it for the first time? Honestly, both sappy and turned on. That was the second time I felt excessively sentimental and testosteronal at the same time. Elmo was cute, Norah's face and voice was sooo sexy. Hence, my Inner Child meets my Inner Adolescent bloke. Sesame Street writers are evil geniuses!

If you must know, the first time I felt that way was during my first Karaoke group date with my then future wife. I was a tickled Elmo that night... but that is an entirely different sappy story.

Achmed the Dead Terrorist: Finding humor in the stupidity of racism.

I was a Sesame Street baby, still am. I've been in awe of puppets ever since I got my first Rubber Duckie for my bathtub sessions.  I liked Ernie so much, I mimicked his silly laugh and declared my red and black striped shirt with matching suspenders my official uniform for any type of party.  My brothers have pictures to prove that.  A neighbor constantly ridiculed me and asked where Bert and his pigeons were. Anyway... when I understood the mechanics of the puppets, I had to get my own puppet.  I told my papa and he got me a Nog-Nog boxing puppet. If you were a kid who lived in the Metro Manila in the 70s, you know what I'm talking about. I enjoyed that for a while, and as expected the novelty quickly wore off. Then I got interested in ventriloquists and their puppets.  

Ventriloquists are hilarious people.  I've always thought their sense of humor bordered on the perverse and twisted since they represent themselves as individuals who could make a conversation work even if the conversation is between him and another inanimate puppet made animate by his talent.  You get what I mean, I'm sure.  You've seen ventriloquists since you were a kid. I you haven't, then you must have lived under a rock.

The hilarity of ventriloquism took on a new meaning when I saw Jeff Dunham on YouTube.  I thought, this guy is in serious trouble for his racist jokes which he projects on his character Achmed the Dead Terrorist. True, the jokes are racist but I think it made fun of racism and attempted to transcend the stupidity of racial prejudice. Consequently, it also somehow diffuses apparent tensions across ethnicities.

I'll shut up now...I might over analyze this and defend humor for humor's sake.  Twisted? Maybe...maybe not. I think I've outgrown the naivete of Sesame Street.