in the wake

So here we are.

I have spent the last several days immersed in an unattractive gumbo of grief, melancholy, tentative acceptance, and frustration.  

None of this would be what my friend and colleague, the late great Jerry Nelson (he of my last post, “jerry”), would have wanted. He was one of those roll-with-it guys, a cool cat on a higher spiritual plane, above the rampant pettiness in the world. That doesn’t mean he was a saint. He was a lovable scoundrel in the best possible sense. But he was calmer than me, for certain. 

jerry

So here we are.

My heart is heavy tonight, and my thoughts are raw. 

A legend has left us. He was not a household name, but his was a household voice. 

His name was Jerry Nelson. You might know him better as the Count. Or Emmet Otter. Or Gobo Fraggle. Or Robin the Frog. Or Floyd in the Electric Mayhem. Or Herry Monster... Mumford... Sherlock Hemlock... Farley... Pops... Lew Zealand... the Trash Heap... Or even the guy who announced, Piiiiigs iiiin Spaaaaaace! Or a thousand other Muppet characters who have touched your life in one way or another. 

He was the very heart of all us Muppet Performers, the positive light, the one who would make us all smile even at the mere mention of his name. He was our Wise One, our music, our muse. To know him was to love him.

But long before I met him, long before I ever had the notion of working with him, long before I even knew his name, he was simply a magic, glorious voice that emanated from record albums and movie screens and televisions. And I loved him before I ever had a notion of him. Of course, I didn’t know that I loved him. I loved his characters. But Jerry’s characters were Jerry, plain and simple. 

That’s the secret of the Muppet Performers, and indeed most of the truly devoted actors: we give you our hearts through our characters. That is not to say that we are our characters. There is a difference. But our souls are there, lay bare, disguised as fun. 

I don’t ask you, my devoted dozens, for much of anything, not even for candy. But tonight, today, now... I ask you to honor this man. Go to the magic YouTube machine. Search away:

Jerry Nelson

Jerry Nelson Muppets

Jerry Nelson Sesame Street

Jerry Nelson Fraggle Rock

Jerry Nelson Emmet Otter

Jerry Nelson Truro Daydreams

Jerry Nelson puppeteer

Or go buy some old-school physical media. There are DVDs and CDs of so much of Jerry’s work out there in the world. Google him. Go to Wikipedia. (Or better yet, Muppet Wiki - muppet.wikia.com -  an incredible trove of information.) Make that Internet sing. Hear that glorious voice. 

You’ll find that you loved him too. You just didn’t know it. 

Yes indeed. Welcome to me.

P.S. Obviously, we all know - or should know - that Muppet Performers are not just voiceover artists. They bring characters to life in every physical and audible way. I mention Jerry in terms of his voice because it was beautiful and soulful and instantly identifiable. Give a listen and you'll understand.

hits

So here we are.

I just figured everything out. This whole Internet thing is a big game, where if you gather the most people, you win. They don’t have to adore you or even like you. They can even despise you. It doesn’t matter. You just have to “get” them, and then you win at Internet. I’m still not sure exactly what you win. Maybe the Mayor of the Web sends you a bumper sticker that says I Won at Internet and All I Got Was This Lousy Bumper Sticker. That would be swell if I had a car. Or I could just use it to cover the Apple logo on my MacBook Air if I had my own sitcom... like the sitcom people tend to get when they win at YouTube. 

(Side note: I bet the Mayor of the Web looks a little like Mayor McCheese, only without the edible head.)

metaphoric fist

So here we are. 

Today, in the cranky, sticky, prickly heat of summer, I am sitting on my metaphoric porch, shaking my metaphoric fist at everything and everyone, and yelling from my metaphoric rocking chair: get out of my yard.

good

So here we are.

I’ve been saying something for a long time, and I like to think I came up with it myself... even though I know that the world is large and nothing is really original. It’s not like I actually coined a phrase, because it was never published, but I’ve said it for nearly two decades, ever since my eyes were widened by my being immersed in the business of show. I’ve said it in passing, I’ve said it in panels, and I’ve said it far too often:

Not everything good is successful, and not everything successful is good. 

happy trails

So here we are.

Recently, I found myself at the memorial service of a great lady.  She was a writer, prolific and smart and funny, and her name was not Nora Ephron. It was Judy Freudberg.