Down at Fraggle Rock . . .

Dance your cares away
Worry’s for another day
Let the music play
Down at Fraggle Rock

If you were raised in the eighties, you know this song. If your awesome, you’re probably humming its tune in your head. The song belongs to the greatest TV show ever created. If you disagree, you’re wrong. Fraggle Rock is incredible.

Due to the Fraggles, Saturday mornings in my home were intense. I had to be out of bed, breakfast eaten, and ready to beat my brother and sister to the TV by 9am sharp. If I wasn’t, I would miss Fraggle Rock and that would be a nuclear disaster.

I loved those little characters. I couldn’t wait to see where crazy “Uncle Traveling Matt” was off to. Would that old dude would ever figure out there were little muppets living in his walls? Heck, the dog knew, but why the man couldn’t figure it out I will never know. I adored GoBo, I mean who didn’t? I wouldn’t use the bathroom, I wouldn’t get up for a snack, I wouldn’t even blink. I would not miss a beat of my favorite show. Period.

Oh, how times have changed. Now kids can watch anything, anytime. Saturday morning cartoons can be Tuesday afternoon cartoons. They anticipate nothing. They want Little Einstein (nothing like the creative genius of the Fraggles), they press a button. Gone are the days of dreaming and waiting for your favorite shows. Gone are the days of having to fight with your brother over the TV, now you can just record something and come back to it. I hate that. I also hate that my MacBook doesn’t have “Fraggles” in the dictionary, is nothing sacred?

Like every generation before me, I am starting to think our children are intensely spoiled by technology. They wait for nothing.

I miss the Fraggles. I miss what they represent, which is my childhood.

I guess things were just easier, calmer, and more exciting . . . down at Fraggle Rock.