im not in the greatest of moods tonite, forgive me, but on top of all this water just started leaking on my head...
mr rogers died yesterday. its odd how i never appreciated him before. and maybe im just depressed but i was thinking about it. when i was a little kid i used to watch his show, like many other little kids. i never liked it much but i was kindof forced into watching it. o well, it wasnt that bad. i always thought it was a little wierd how he had that little train. it was like a pet to him. it would always come when he wanted, left too, tooted a horn or something... i think it was blue. sometimes i expected it to bark at him or something. he loved that train... he had those fish though, they didnt do much, but he would feed them and remind us not to feed them too much. the guy was odd though, he never watched tv and wore a red vest everyday. he took off his shoes when he came into the house and sang a song. (what a wonderful day in the neighborhood or something, brings back memories) he would walk through a tunnel into an imaginary world with puppets. the puppets had strange voices and lived in odd places. they always had their own little dramas. someone stole a cookie (oh my) he would always run to 'king friday' or something. i think there was a real lady that worked there too but im not sure. there was a castle, a tree, an odd carosel type thing and this structure that reminded me of the lincoln monument or that baseball stadium thats by a river somewhere, i think someone lived in a block of cheese. ahh i dont remember. he had a garage but no car. a closet full of the same jackets. he would walk around his neighborhood and not worry about thugs or nothing. i dont even remember kids living there. he had unlimited access to the behind the scenes works of all the public places. all the disgruntled workers would give him a smile and some free stuff. he dressed up to go work in the garden. i dont remember more, its sad really. even memories like this, childhood nothings sparked by an eveny many wouldnt even consider news... it means something, i would hate to forget what i have already forgotten. you dont want to lose these pictures of yesteryear, these single views into what you were. even if youre embarrased to talk about them, they're still there, even if you tried to forget it, its not leaving... its only when youve forgotten that you regret it. mr rogers was a minister. he died of stomach cancer. ill remember him from the pbs program but a helluva lot of people wont. to them he was a regular person, a friend, family perhaps. mr rogers will have a funeral in a couple of days. people will cry and his corpse will be dropped into the ground. he wont sing anymore, those puppets will be put away forever, maybe trashed. never thought something this tiny could actually mean something did you? dont ever think that. every event has a story. every face in the obituaries had a life. my mother always reads them, i never understood why. i even laughed at a few of the names. there were people that loved every one of them. remember that next time you pick up a paper or see another suicide bomber on the news, it could be you people cry about someday soon.