"Good day, neighbor."

"There's only one person in the whole world like you, and I like you so much."

Oh, dear readers, is there anything better for a young child to hear?  These are the words of the kind, gentle soul, Mister Fred Rogers.  I know, I'm having a lot of TV nostalgia lately.  I'm not sure why.  Today's was brought on after seeing PBS's new series Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood.  My immediate reaction was to send PBS an angry email shaming them for sullying the memory of children's television's Dali Lama with an animated tiger singing some of his songs.  Take bag your damn tote bag!!!  Get this disgrace off the air!!!!

A violent reaction perhaps, but so was my love for Mister Rogers as a child.

Mister Rogers was a calm respite in the crazy world of childhood.  Sure, Sesame Street was also great, but on those days when Ernie's zaniness was too much for your frazzled five year-old nerves, and you you felt slightly nauseous from the psychedelic pinball machine animation during the counting segment ("one, two, three, FOUR, FIVE, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, TWEEEELVE!"), Mister Rogers breezed in his front door, changed into his red cardigan and blue Keds, and was ready to calm you down with his soft voice and gentle smile.

Mister Rogers had a way of making everything seem fascinating, from feeding his fish, to mailing a letter.  Just the way he described it and how slowly and carefully he did everything, you never knew you wanted to watch sand being poured through a funnel, but then you couldn't tear your eyes away from the screen.  My mother said it was like I was in a trance for thirty minutes.  I'm sure she put every minute of it to good use.  Knowing her, it was to wash the side of the refrigerator that faces the wall or polish the light bulbs.

The Land of Make Believe in Mister Roger's Neighborhood, was, perhaps, not may favorite.  This was a land ruled by a clueless, yet know-it-all king, his Jackie Kennedy-esque queen and their effeminate son.  It was full of over-emoting adult actors who played along with a crew of beat up-looking puppets who look like they had done a tour in the toddler room of a daycare center - including a family of tigers, a family of platypuses, a cat and an owl.   Then there was the terrifying Lady Elaine.  Big misstep, Fred.  I would like to know how this face is not nightmare-inducing:

She kind of reminded me of the puppet, Madame, who, incidentally, I also found terrifying:

As soon as Trolley left the "station" that was Mister Roger's window seat, I went to pee and see what my mother was doing behind the fridge.

Fred Rogers was a groundbreaker because his was one of the first shows that addressed children's fears by speaking directly about them to the child viewer.  When he said things like, "sometimes it can be scary to be alone in the dark", you nodded your little head so vigorously in agreement, your chubby little cheeks shook.  Death, divorce, fear of the dark, he covered them all.  Mister Rogers made us feel understood, and that is a feeling every child wants.  He influences the way I parent so much, I wish he were still alive to send him a letter of thanks.

 The best part of the show had to be the ending.  Fred would change out of his cardigan and sneakers seamlessly  while singing his farewell song, jauntily tossing a sneaker on the air and catching it with the other hand. And, Jesus, these lyrics:

It's such a good feeling
To know you're alive.
It's such a happy feeling:
You're growing inside.
And when you wake up ready to say,
"I think I'll make a snappy new day."

It's such a good feeling,
A very good feeling,

The feeling you know that 

This was, and is, my favorite part...(tempo slows)

I'll be back, when the day is new.

And I'll have more ideas for you.

And you'll have things you'll want to talk about.

I...will...too.

I like you, just for being you.

I'm not sure why that gets me the way it does.  Maybe because Mister Rogers seemed so earnest, telling us he'd be back tomorrow.  Like your mom when she dropped you off at kindergarten, you could really count on him to come back.  

Unfortunately, Mister Roger's Neighborhood is no longer on the air.  #1 has only the vaguest memories of seeing it.  It's so sad because in this go-go, over-stimulating world, I think he would be an even more welcome refuge for small children.  "Won't you be my neighbor?" is used mostly as a joke in popular culture, but it really is a great idea.  If we all lived like we were all part of the one, big neighborhood, maybe we'd be a little kinder, a little more considerate.

And everybody needs to be told , "I like you, just for being you."