So I'm right on the verge of becoming a Daddy. My wife would probably remind me that the "verge" is going to last another seven months or so. Nevertheless, I find many things suddenly applying to me. No longer are diaper changings and 3:14 a.m. feedings going to be travails that befall other folks. It's with impending shift in perspective that I'm finding new questions to ask.
What the heck is it with Barney? I've watched my nephew and my niece get sucked into it. The power that show holds over little people frightens me. My niece is able to say a handful of words, including the old standbys of "Daddy," "Mommy," and "Hi". Unfortunately, her vocabulary includes "Barney". You never heard a singular "Barney" pass her tiny little lips. They always come gushing in a torrent with a pleading, questioning rise in inflection at the end of every one: "Barney? Barney? Barney? Barney? Barney? Barney? Barney? Barney?" Translated into grownup speak, her pleas would sound something like this: "Man, you gotta help me. I need a score. I don't think I can stand another second playing with these blocks you gave me. Give me another sweet chorus of 'The Wheels on the Car Go 'Round and 'Round'. I need a hit bad, man." Usually some adult type person at family gatherings finally relents and pops the tape in. Then the scary stuff begins. She just stands there, mesmerized. Now if she ended up knowing kung fu or how to fly a helicopter after such a session, I'd be the first to condone extended Barney exposure. But nothing ever happens. She is a zombie for the duration of the tape. You can almost see the TV suck her brains out like those vampires in Lifeforce. Of course, the first time I saw that movie I felt like my 13-year-old eyeballs were being sucked out my head during those excruciatingly drawn out nude scenes of Matilda May… but that's another column altogether. Not even bare breasts and Patrick Stewart could save that flick. Barney may have some redeeming values beyond the pitifully simple morals and lessons it spoons out, but one of those values is definitely not production quality. I find it a little depressing when folks decide that the children who make up their target audience deserve no more than the most banal pabulum that set designers, songwriters, and scriptwriters can puke out of their diseased brains. The evil Barney producers have developed audio/visual crack for kids and wrapped it with a thin veneer of moral lessons in order to appease parents. This parent-to-be is not appeased. Ever since the ascendance of Hanna-Barbera and their cut-rate writing and animation, decent souls have struggled to produce entertainment for kids that doesn't reek. A few shows, such as Tiny Toons, have served as beacons in the wasteland blasted by Fred Flintstone and Hong Kong Phooey. While the parents chuckle at the sly pop culture references and digs at current events, the kids can guffaw at the wacky situations. Parents and children are enjoying the same show. Although they may be doing so for different reasons, they are able to share the experience and the kids are at least exposed to some of the stuff that might fly over their heads. My point is that people (and that includes kids) live up or down to the expectations you have of them. If you expect your audience to be a collection of brainless droolers with insecure parents holding on to too much disposable income, you're likely to create something like Barney: a developmentally challenged dinosaur cast in the mold of Steinbeck's Lennie. I understand, in a cerebral, theoretical fashion, how tempting Barney must be for parents. You sit the kid in front of the TV and they're quiet for an extended period. Screw crack, this stuff is Ritalin on a videotape. Parents assure me that we will be assimilated. I am told that when you're kid is screaming or pleading or otherwise being annoying that I will bow to the pressure and give in to the promise of peace and quiet that Barney offers. The prevailing opinion is that it is impossible to keep Barney out of your household. To that I say "phooey". I'm sure that my kid will find something else on which to fixate. In the meantime, if I need some peace and quiet, I'll keep his or her little brain occupied with Ren and Stimpy, Heavy Metal, and Pink Floyd The Wall.Pakeha