The recent chatter about a new Muppet movie sparked memories of Nanny’s green and white striped socks and a glassware collection preserved (I hope) somewhere in my parents basement. Back when kid’s meals actually came in handy handled boxes (perfect for transporting action figures, Legos and bits of plastic more useful than those that came with the meal), certain fast food establishments issued collectible glasses painted with pop culture’s favorite characters, including Snoopy, Kermit and even everybody’s favorite Wookiee.

We all know that it’s not easy being green and I’m not convinced that neon orange liquid they pass off as “drink” is really fit for consumption, however, when served as the backdrop for a cycling Kermit, the real question in my little six year old mind was not, “Why are there so many songs about rainbows?” but, what time do I need to wake up on Saturday morning to watch Muppet Babies?” I can think of few contemporary half hour segments that can provide a kid with silly cuteness, dangerous adventures in imagination and musical movie magic, like a Henson powered cartoon can. Then, why not wrapped it all up in a fashion statement dictating that green and white striped socks are really the only thing one needs to be fearful of? … Genius!

I am grateful that I had to make the decision to sleep-in, or force myself to wake-up and therefore, earn the right to watch Saturday morning cartoons. I am also truely thankful to have had the intellect of my youth aroused by monsters made of real metal and fuzz, enlivened by human hand and spirit. The plethora of concepts, contraptions and digital gizmos society’s current technical prowess has designed to stimulate a child’s imagination is mind boggling. With that said, the release of movies like Monster’s Inc., which transcends pure digital diligence, and more recently, Where the Wild Things Are, cause me to be hopeful that the original Henson/Lucas/Disney legacies of thought are not completely lost. Particularly in the movie Where the Wild Things Are, nostalgic brilliance and technological subtleties work together in a tangible harmony. This sense of timelessness is also found in the film’s soundtrack, by Karen O and the Kids, which may not be preformed by the singing frog we all know and love, but it could be the fodder for a primary school choir and versatile enough for all ages to appreciate. Timelessness and versatility are qualities many mainstream movies and albums are devoid of these days. Yes, I point the finger directly at the Avatars and Vampire Weekends of the world trying to infiltrate the already confounded minds of today’s generation. 20 years from now however, will kids still be dressing up as “Neytiri” for Halloween or learning “Kid’s Don’t Stand a Chance” in music class…ever? May higher intelligence forbid.