It is officially time to fear for the children of tomorrow. With my child’s impending birth I have been forced to deal with the realization that he/she will be born into an era without either The Little Rascals or The Three Stooges to show them the way.
When I was growing up every Saturday and Sunday morning these two shows were staples of my TV viewing experience. I’d settle in for a nice edition of Voltron or M.A.S.K., and follow it up with my favorite two black and white comedies.
There is something timeless about those serials. The childish wonder of The Little Rascals used to inspire my imagination. Those kids made a fire truck out of scrap wood. They had a clubhouse with secret handshakes. And they introduced me to the magic of Castor Oil and Limburger Cheese. Two goods that a young kid like me was unlikely to ever actually interact with, yet I knew they were instant comedy gold.
As soon as a bottle of Castor Oil came on screen I knew that someone was about to make a serious toilet run. Or if someone was cutting a piece of Limburger that the room was about to smell like ass. Those are jokes that I loved growing up. I know they aren’t high brow, or probably even as funny as I am making them out to be. But I liked them. They were simple and easy. And my kid’s generation probably will never see them.
People say that those shows were too violent. Screw them. Those shows were awesome. I didn’t go out and hit another kid with a golf club, just because I saw Moe do it to Curly. Kids understand more than we give them credit for. I know that I am going to be buying the DVD’s to share with my child. But I hope these two shows find a place in modern syndication, because it is such a waste if they do not get passed along.
