by Hank Brockett
Fred Rogers, the television personality who hosted the longest-running children’s show on public television, had passed away after a battle with stomach cancer.
Word spread through Internet news sites,
“Children have always known Mr. Rogers as their ‘television friend,’ and that relationship doesn’t change with his death,” the site stated.
One does not envy the conversations that must now take place, as the show airs and kids first learn of that television phenomenon known as posthumous reruns.
But as WTTW Channel 11 beams his warm, comforting image from years gone by, we’re reminded that no show on television today can take the prestigious position this ordained Presbyterian minister once held.
The climates Mr. Rogers entered and exited show just how far the medium has traveled. In 1968, PBS was the fourth of four options and a website would refer to a pet spider’s whereabouts. Upon his retirement in 2000, his neighborhood was part of a landscape which included Nickelodeon, Saturday morning programming of all sorts and a show-toy synergy seldom matched in marketing history.
Maybe that’s why so many took time to think of the cardigan-clad good soul this past week. For it’s easy to remember just what Mr. Rogers accomplished - no one else has dared to emulate it since.
The reason? Say it with me now: i-ro-ny. At some point between He-Man and the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, children’s shows became more than just a story with a morally sound lesson in its conclusion. In the past few years, many children’s art forms have become co-opted by very adult imaginations. So 30-year-old collectors snatch up the comic books while new cartoons are injected with enough pop culture references to draw a target commercial market of older adolescents.
Even the successes fall victim to things you couldn’t imagine King Friday the 13th presiding over. They sell SpongeBob Squarepants paraphernalia in TCF Banks. An AIDS-infected character in overseas Sesame Street episodes became a flavor-of-the-week debate. And let’s not even get into Rev. Jerry Falwell’s favorite Teletubby.
To many, a collection of shows like Sesame Street, Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, 3-2-1 Contact and Square One served as the first Must-See TV lineup. But imagine even a PBS pitch for the Neighborhood today:
Network: Okay, what do you have for me here?
Host: Well, we’ve got this show where I start off by changing my shoes, then we sing songs like Won’t You Be My Neighbor and You Are Special and we follow that up by heading to the world of Make Believe ...
Network: ... oh, I see. Where there are all kinds of characters that kids can go online to vote off? Genius!
Host: Err, not exactly. There’s a trolley involved, and all kinds of things where kids can learn the right way to act without me getting preachy.
Network: Gosh, I don’t know. That last telethon didn’t do as well as we planned. I tell you what, we’ll see what we can do. In the meantime, we’ll do a background check on you, make sure you don’t have any sexual or criminal skeletons in your closet. Can never be too sure, you know ...
The new show would never have a chance, which is surprising. There certainly seems to be a market out there for television shows that teach lessons parents are too lazy to lay down.
It’s easy to confuse the Neighborhood’s tone of earnestness with schmaltz. After years of very special Hallmark movies, the culture rejected more profitable versions of Mr. Rogers’ vision. The Great Barney Debacle of the 1990s served clear notice - you can’t sell love and friendship without creating a backlash.
But Mr. Rogers wasn’t selling much, besides the benefits of comfortable clothing (one of his cardigans is displayed in the Smithsonian). In changing times, his message stayed consistent with the universal curiosities of a child’s mind.
One hopes that lesson isn’t lost on the next generation of children’s programmers. Until then, reruns have seldom seemed so fresh.