The Assassination of Johnny Bravo

When I was a kid, Saturday mornings were AWESOME. Hour after hour of gratuitous violence as Tom and Jerry beat the shit out of each other and the Coyote sat on one too many Acme rockets, lessons in wit and sarcasm courtesy of Bugs and Daffy, and in between it all, doses of School House Rock and "Conjunction Junction" (30 years later, I still remember that song) in an altogether well-rounded childhood enabling me to think for myself as an adult. I learned from Charlie Brown that it was okay to be a little bit different, and the Smurfs taught me to accept everyone for who they were, that each person had value and something different to offer, and that the community as a whole survives only with the contribution of each individual.

Some years later, as a young parent, I saw those days already receding into the distance. Saturdays filled with Tom and Jerry were replaced by Power Rangers and mutant turtles but still sprinkled with the antics of Cow and Chicken, Weasel and Baboon, and the love of my life, Johnny Bravo. Now, as a (slightly) older parent (chronologically, not at heart), my children are reduced to watching "educational" cartoons; the ones that teach not only tolerance but compliance and conformity. The only time Tom and Jerry appear on my screen now is when I pay extra for it with satellite TV; and my 3-, 4-, 6-, and 7-year-old children have never even heard of Johnny or Smurfette.

When I was a kid, there were TOYS in my cereal box. Nowadays, all you find inside the box is some mystery sugar that may or may not be an edible food product and may or may not cause cancer 20 years down the road.

When I was a kid, a trip to McDonald's was a special treat. Counting the number of chins on some of the kids I've seen at the schools lately, home-cooked meals are now a special treat.

When I was a kid, a penny saved was a penny earned; and even if you wanted to splurge, you could still buy penny candies. Spirograph and Scrabble were fun, and Atari 2600 was THE SHIT. It was a family event to watch The Wizard of Oz once a year on TV. Holidays were a time for family gatherings and appreciating the premise behind that particular celebration. You earned not only those things you wanted but those privileges you were afforded.

The loss to my children is incalculable.