I have a confession to make. Yes, it’s time to come clean.
I love watching SpongeBob SquarePants.
For the uninitiated, SpongeBob SquarePants is a Nickleodean cartoon about a sea sponge that lives in a pineapple at the bottom of the sea in a place called Bikini Bottom. He has a pet snail named Gary and his companion is a pink starfish named Patrick, and they make life miserable for his neighbor, a blue squid named, appropriately enough, Squidward Tentacles.
Silly, stupid, ridiculous stuff, I know. But hey, how much crazier is this than some of the stuff we watched as kids.
The advent of television helped popularize such culture stalwarts as Huckelberry Hound and the Jetsons, Fred and Wilma Flintstone, and the Road Runner and his nemesis, Wile E. Coyote. The creative team at Hanna and Barbera gave camp Disney a run for its money when it came to animated success with characters like Yogi Bear and Boo Boo and Deputy Dawg. I always had a soft spot for Warner Brothers creations. Bugs Bunny had way too much attitude, which always drove old Elmer Fudd crazy for that “wabbitt wasscally.” Then there was Daffy Duck, unrelated to the Disney family of ducks. His lisping delivery couldn’t be beat. It’s hard to imagine that one man was responsible for so many of these cartoon characters’ voices. Mel Blanc started out as a radio guy in 1927 and went on to become the most familiar person in our cartoon heaven. He was responsible for Bugs, Daffy, Porky Pig, Tweetie Bird and his counterpart, the “puddy tat” Sylvester. White created Speedy Gonzalez, Foghorn Leghorn, Yosemite Sam, and even made Barney Rubble and Mr. Spacely, George Jetson’s boss. On Blanc’s tombstone are the words: “That’s it, folks.”
Then there was this guy named Walt Disney, who gave us Mickey Mouse, his best girl Minney, and all the family friends. They say that Disney wanted to call his creation Mortimer. That would have been a tongue twister for the Musketeer to spell. I remember seeing the Wonderful World of Disney every Sunday night, seeing Donald Duck and Daisy. Donald, of course, never wore pants, something that to this day greatly disturbs me. And who were Huey, Dewey and Louie? They say they were Donald’s nephews, but for a long time I maintained that they were descendants of Donald and Daisy. Think about it. Did “Uncle” Donald have a brother or a sister? Why were they always with Daisy? And what’s the story with Uncle Scrooge? Uncle… yes, of course. Grandpa, maybe. And don’t get me started on Goofy. I know Pluto was a dog, but what was Goofy? The mystery continues to this day. Uh-hilk.
Since I admitted that I like SpongeBob, I might as well continue with this “True Confessions” session. My brothers and I were also fans of Rocky the Squirrel and Bullwinkle J. Moose. This includes Dudley Do-Right and Sweet Nell, Snidely Whiplash, Tooter Turtle and Mr. Wizard and the perfectly cast spies Boris and Natasha.
If you think our distorted tastes were limited to cartoons, wait until I start talking about how we loved “F-Troop” so much that my brother named his dog “Corporal Agarn.”
But that’s a sad story for another time.
(Suburban Journals of St.Louis, September 2008)