The Quiet American: Mr. Rogers' Neighbourhood
An oasis of calm in a cacophonous world
Hi everyone. Huge apologies for the delay, it’s been busy! I went to the launch of Editor Tom’s book, the excellent A Brief History of the End of the F*cking World. I had a lovely trip to Nottingham, saw the UK’s premier Daft Punk tribute act, and went to the Sailor Moon touring musical. I went on the same school trip twice in two days (twins) so you can ask me anything about the Museum of the Home now. It’s well worth a visit, although it is terrifying to see “2005” as an exhibit in a museum. A very good exhibit though, I actually had flashbacks to watching The Farm in our old living room in Maida Vale.
This time we are doing another subscriber request – this time for my friend and former colleague, John Miller, who has requested American children’s TV classic Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood.
Who, you may ask, is Miller? He was my colleague back in the day in the Wall Street Journal’s Brussels bureau; I started writing an anecdote about his souvenir bright pink 2010 FIFA World Cup vuvuzela, before deciding it was more of a “you had to be there” story. He’s a very funny, very clever Belgo-American, who now lives in Pittsburgh, where Mr. Rogers’ Neighbourhood was recorded.
A Publishing Home Run
I’ve waited til now to watch his choice of programme because… his book is out! It’s called The Last Manager and is a biography of sweary, emotional, alcoholic baseball manager Earl Weaver. It is no exaggeration to say that every single thing I know about baseball, I know because John told me. And honestly, he is such a good and consummate storyteller, I really enjoyed listening to the adventures of the Brussels Kangaroos.
Guys, I know it is only March, but if you have a father/son/brother or any other person you love but is very difficult to buy presents for in your life, you could get them Tom’s book and John’s book and even if they’re not particularly into either the apocalypse or baseball per se they will probably love them. They are just that good at writing. Make a little mental note and thank me later this year. OK, here endeth the annoying podcast advert voice. Let’s talk about children’s TV.
Daniel Tiger’s Origin Story
Mr. Rogers is an institution of American broadcasting, so this is a bit like being asked to review Blue Peter; I’m going to apologise now if I trample on anyone’s precious childhood memories. First broadcast in 1968, the show ran for 33 years; you can find various bits on YouTube, including on the PBS Kids channel. However, it turns out many of you will be more familiar with the show than you realise… because it is the Cheers to Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood’s Frasier.
Daniel Tiger, which I’m sure you’ve all seen on CBeebies or YouTube, is based on a shy puppet who lives in a clock in the original series. Just like DTN, Mr Rogers loves to talk about feelings, sharing, taking turns, and the ”trolley” (it’s a tram, not a shopping trolley – a “trolley problem” trolley. Trolley trolley trolley. It’s like the vuvuzela all over again). Broadly, Mr. Rogers explores a lot of the same territory as DTN, but with a live action narrator and some delightful cutaway sequences.
The first thing that struck me about Mr Rogers is how very calm it is. A lot of my best friends are American; I’ve been to the USA several times, and thoroughly enjoyed the experience. But I wouldn’t describe either my friends, or their country, as particularly chilled.
And yet, somehow our friends from across the pond have created the most sedate children’s show of all time. Listen to this guy’s voice! It’s so relaxing! The pacing, so very gentle. He’s got an internal jazz piano monologue! How (and this comes from a place of love) did one of the noisiest countries on earth produce this oasis of calm? I don’t know, but I’m here for it.
What I’m not here for is the NTSC picture quality, but children don’t seem to notice/care about picture quality, you have to teach them this by relentlessly passing your values on to the next generation. (The other day one of the twins pointed out a pharmacy sign that was in the wrong aspect ratio, which made me one very proud mummy. We’re going to do audio quality next 😜)
A Blueprint for Children’s TV
It’s quite startling how many classic children’s TV elements are here. It’s like looking at the Norman Rockwell original of the CBeebies house. There’s instructional videos where we learn a new skill, such as hula hooping. And there’s finding out how things are made in factories – endlessly fascinating, and I’d rather listen to Mr Rogers narrate this than Maddie Moate (sorry Maddie). You can see them making a record (this machine must have cost an insane amount of money back in the day), or have a tour of the macaroni factory.
The whole thing is utterly delightful, and very absorbing. I suspect the pace is just too slow for today’s world, but the spirit of this program lives on pretty much everywhere across children’s TV. I was going to try and get through this whole thing without talking about current events in America, but it’s impossible not to watch this sweet, gentle program and then turn on the news and recoil in shock. I hope everyone finds their inner Mr Rogers and ends up being a bit kinder to each other! In the meantime, there’s always Daniel Tiger.
Hello Frances! Nice to hear from you. We didn't get this when we were kids in Alberta. It was actually not available here. We saw it sometimes on PBS but not often and it seemed weird to us, at the time. It's only when our American son-in-law started showing it to our grandchildren that we really understood it and found how lovely it is. I remember our little guy hearing some jazz playing in our house and asking, "Is that Mr. Rogers?" The episode with Winston Marsallis and his sons is excellent and obviously really impressed him; he was about three at the time! Mr. Rogers is famous for his statement, "Look for the helpers," in reference to how to cope with disaster. We are desperately looking for helpers, in every sphere, at this time. What's happening is affecting the whole world, and is very close to home where we live in Alberta. As you say, it's hard to believe. It feels surreal, like a Harry Potter movie. So glad you did this post. All our best!