Am I the only person who wishes that a guitar chord was played every time I came into a room? I bet not. I -along with countless other viewers -stared eagerly at Clarissa's window, waiting for the familiar ladder to appear, followed by Hey Sam (cue chord).
Whether or not you like Clarissa Explains It All (Ferguson was pretty annoying, after all), almost everyone has a similarly wistful memory of old-school Nickelodeon. Until recently, my own Nickelodeon obsession was limited to occasional pining for the shows of my youth, the ones from that Salinger-esque age of innocence when I couldn't drive or drink, and my experience with the opposite sex was limited to curious glances at stacks of Playboy at flea markets. But a few days ago, my childhood tossed me a life preserver in the form of The Adventures of Pete and Pete: Season One DVD set.
Watching these episodes -many of them for the first time in years -I was blown away. How the heck did Nickelodeon put this show on for kids? In one of the episodes my roommates and I watched, a recurring joke involved Hemingway and the expatriate community in post-World War I France. And remember the Mr. Tastee episode? The one where Pete, Pete and Ellen try to befriend the enigmatic purveyor of Blue Tornado bars? Before watching, I had a vague memory of enjoying the episode a great deal, but that was all. It was no small surprise, then, that my roommates and I found that what we were watching was, at least for children's television, a quasi-existential meditation on society and people's places in the world. That, and perhaps more importantly, Michael Stipe -REM front man -played an ice cream man. But I digress.
The DVD set includes an insert that lists Nickelodeon's program schedule circa 1993. I almost wish they hadn't put it in there; at least then I wouldn't know (or remember) what I was missing. In addition to Clarissa and Pete and Pete
there were Hey Dude (Yippy-ti-yi-yay), Doug Rugrats and my personal favorite, Salute Your Shorts which the insert tells me was on no less than three times a day on Saturdays. At least three episodes would be needed to tide just about anyone over until Snick. That's to say nothing of the game shows, including Family Double Dare
Legends of the Hidden Temple
Guts
Nick Arcade (Yeah, the virtual reality game they played at the end was lame, but I still wanted to play it) and many others.
That schedule is 12 years old. These days, Nickelodeon is reduced to showing endless reruns of Spongebob Squarepants and some freakish perversion of Rugrats that doesn't in any way resemble the show I used to watch. Does Nickelodeon even show live-action sitcoms anymore? I have no idea, and I don't think I want to know. The programming that used to exemplify Nickelodeon has morphed into Alex Mack-style goo and disappeared forever, and with it, part of my youth.
While the DVDs are great and fun to watch, something is missing. It's just not the same when you have to turn off the TV to go write a paper, as opposed to turning it off because it's time for dinner. My choices are limited: accept it and enjoy the episodes as they are, or stubbornly cling to my nostalgic longings. Although the first option is more prudent and sensible, I am rarely either.
So in other words, if anyone needs to get ahold of me this summer, you can find me at Camp Anawanna.
-Ben Saylor, a magazine journalism major and a Post writer, is an avid fan of classic Nickelodeon. Send him an e-mail at bs100802@ohiou.edu.
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