Big Bird: Charming Puppet, or Marxist?

Happy Tuesday, my little baked treats!

I spent the morning at my regular ObGyn's - who I haven't seen in ages.  He is on Rodeo drive in Beverly Hills - read: uber fancy.  This provides many moments of hilarity during each appointment - today, a woman wearing high heeled sneakers (yup) boarded the elevator, which I was in the back of, did not look up from her phone and asked me to press the floor button she was right next to.  (Apparently, Stork gives off an air of elevator-man, even without my top hat and tail coats).  I also have to suffer the indignity of having a man valet park my 10,000 year old car full of trash (seriously - my house is clean, but my car is like the saddest episode of Hoarders, ever) and then charge me $16 (!!!!), which I'm assuming will at least cover the shots he'll have to get as a result of the experience.

I do bust out my engagement ring for the occasion only because without it, by comparison to these women, I look like I wandered out of the dumpster downstairs because I heard there was an office where men in lab coats would grope me.

I went in because I've been having off and on mild pain in one of my boobs (in, around, under). He told me I'm one of his favorite patients because I make him giggle (it's my defense mechanism, makes things less awkward - even though it's disconcerting to have a man laugh in the face of your vagina).  He poked my boobs and said there was nothing that suggested anything was wrong (proud of myself because I didn't google this - google is basically typing in any symptom under the sun and waiting for the word CANCER to pop up dripping blood).  So off to get a sonogram I go in a few days - I probably pulled a muscle.

(Anyone remember "Unbreakable"?  Apparently I'm like Samuel L. Jackson's character where my entire body is just made of glass.  Though I do have slightly better hair keep in mind I can do the bug-eye Jackson stare with the best of them).

I do not wish to discuss this today, however.  Today, I wish to discuss Big Bird.

I am done with this election. Done.  My feelings for 'undecided voters' as of this point in time can be summed up in an SNL skit, with a series of undecided voters looking into the camera and asking such earnest, unanswered questions as "when is this election?"  "Can women vote?" "How long is a presidential term?  If it's for life I'm not comfortable with that."

As I have mentioned on this blog before, I am one of those evil bleeding heart California liberals.

Before you disown me and join the valet man in getting shots to hopefully undo your exposure, a few things to hopefully keep you digging me:

1. I am open minded on all issues other than the gays (because it's so silly I can't even believe we have to have a discussion) and lurve me some republicans.
2. My Mom's an independent, my Dad was a republican (but an agnostic, fiscal republican - he did switch sides the last election he was around for) and my sister's a socialist.  No, but like, a real one. I dig me some variety.
3. I think John McCain, for example, is an amazing, good man.  Had it been another year and had he not  tapped Palin (honestly I would've been less offended if they just had a picture of a vagina run for VP to try to get my vote) I may have voted for him.
4. I dig me the fiscally responsible side of the republican party.  When it's about differences in money, I get it.
5. I fully embrace and support the idea that people are allowed to dislike this President, G-d knows I wasn't a fan of President Bush.  More power to you, express yourself.  It's when it's thinly veiled racism that it gets me - and you know what?  Had I ever met President Bush in person, I would have called him President Bush and shown him some respect because despite differences, he was the fucking President of the United States.

So this whole big bird thing is silly.

If I let myself get completely paranoid and irrational, my fear becomes that Mitt Romney wants to chop up big bird into little pieces, serve him in sandwich form at Chik-Fil-A to fuel up the men who will inevitably storm up my driveway with torches and battering rams, prepared to go into my uterus and verify that it's full of Jesus and Patriotism.

I can usually talk myself down from this.

Usually.

I get that some things have to be cut from our budget and that the froo-froo unnecessary are the first to be looked at, never mind that getting rid of any funding for Sesame Street would crack such a tiny dent in it that you'd have to invent a whole new type of microscope to get a look at it.

Froo-froo has to be looked at.  And I love the froo-froo, but obviously it has to be looked at.

I just happen to be a woman who's psychotically attached to muppets to begin with, not to mention things that benefit children.  So, yes, I would much rather see other froo-froo being cut, and a giant chunk of the less froo-froo.  I imagine should PBS ever be in crisis-crisis I will be calling you during your dinner hours on their behalf begging you for money.

But I get that this is just one woman's opinion.  What really bothers me, and I think should bother a lot of people, are the articles/op-eds/horrible comments (seriously comments on news articles should be banned - learn to spell socialist!) around the internet where people far to the other side are talking about things like Sesame Street, or the Muppet Movie when it came out, like they are liberal breeding grounds that must be shut down because of that.

You know, the Muppet movie villain was an oil tycoon.  Sesame Street teaches things like sharing (without even pointing out that sharing is a downward spiral to a culture of dependency!)

Seriously, internet?

I get that when I watch MSNBC I'm watching a station that leans to the left, much like I hope people get when they're watching Fox News they are watching something that leans to the right.

Most of the U.S. national/international media primarily resides in NYC & L.A., which are both left-leaning cities, so I get that a lot of media seems left-leaning.  (If the biggest hive of media was located in Alabama, I'm sure it would lean in another direction).

There are a lot of media outlets people accuse of being liberal propaganda where I totally disagree - I mean, believe me, there are things on some of these 'liberal' channels and in these 'liberal' publications that piss this lefty off.

But.. Sesame Street?  Muppets?

When did sharing in the simplest form (as in, if you have two cookies and your friend has no cookies and is hungry, do you give them a cookie) become a liberal ideal?  When did helping someone out, rooting for the underdog, become propaganda?

Because I'm fairly certain everyone reading these words right now was taught those values when they were little - just like I'm fairly certain there are people reading these words right now who still have these values and are not liberal.

So from my most rational, open-minded self, cut the Bird because you think it's going to help this country financially.  But please oh please, liberal or conservative, stop implying that kindness, sharing and helping are strictly liberal values/propaganda.  Particularly when it's coming out of the mouth of a puppet to a child.

Most unfortunately, people are going to raise their kids to hate everything that is associated with liberals... So I think lumping kindness, sharing, etc. into a strictly 'us' trait is super dangerous.  I would not teach my kids that being fiscally responsible is a conservative-only trait, and just to stick it to them they should spend, spend, spend their money like tomorrow the apocalypse is imminent.  (Stick it to those liberal kids and never share anything!  Stick it to those conservative kids and work yourself into debt!)

And from my left, tree-hugging heart... please oh please leave Sesame Street alone.  It does not need to be a political tool and I don't think our financial woes will be solved if it starts getting sponsored by Charmin' ultra soft.

These are not the puppets on TV we need to be worried about.

Oh, and even if you disagree with me, please don't yell too harshly should I accidentally call you during dinner time on behalf of PBS.  Give me a chance - I'm charming, my gynecologist says so.