I Was Raised on Sesame Street

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I was raised by the Children’s Television Workshop. So, it is not surprising that, as a grown up, I am made up of different puppet personalities, each a character in Sesame Street.
I am Cookie Monster. I am gluttony’s child. Even though I am already full, I continue to eat. With my googly eyes and mile-wide mouth, I long to digest all of the world’s resources.
I am Big Bird. The phallic-ness of that statement cannot be disregarded. Like the typical Filipino male, I consider the largeness of my penis important. To be a man is to be a penis.
I am Mister Snuffleuppegus. As a child, I knew I existed. The children I played with recognized my existence. But alas, as a grown-up, I don’t know. I must constantly reaffirm my concreteness. People, most especially my wife, proclaim that I am invisible. My peers consider me insignificant. I have continuously prove myself. Thus, I have to place little titles at the end of my name, add zeros to my bank account, and wear all these fashionable Italian clothes to give myself weight – else I could be carried away by the wind. As a child, I could believe in the existence of things which did not see – I had innocence and faith. But as a grown-up, even seeing does not necessarily mean believing. Today, I learn that everything I know is false. Everything is unreal. Even dreams. Mister Snuffleuppegus was an “imaginary friend.” As a grown-up, I have learned the importance of “imaginary friends.” Without these invisible connections, how can I get ahead in life? How could I have gotten the job I have now?
I am Oscar the Grouch. Thanks to my wife, everyday is an off day. I get real grouchy, even with my children. Oftentimes, my mouth spews worms and testy language. I hate being with people. I’d choose to stay in my little trash can in my plush subdivision and never go out. I don’t need people. I don’t want to go out. I want to be left alone. To each his own.
I am Slimy. Everybody thinks I’m a worm. Especially girls. I don’t know what’s the big deal anyway. I have the money. I have the looks. Girls should love me. After I spend money on them. The world is my apple and I’ve eaten through its core.
I am Ernie. I always forget to say “10-Q” to people. They don’t deserve it. I just laugh at their faces. I love offending people, all for the sake of fun. I love playing games; games which my wife would not approve of. I enjoy taking baths – at the sauna. And every time go there, I always swim with my yellow, rubber d_cky.
I am Bert. Like Bert’s absurd bottle-cap collection, I too have a senseless diversion: I collect power, prestige and popularity. I try to please everyone. I try to be better than anyone. I answer to no one.
I am Grover. Whenever I do things, I easily “go overboard.” To satisfy my longing for excessive pleasure, I exhaust this planet’s resources. To ensure my economic and social position, I enact laws which retain the status quo: no to land reform, no to worker protection, no to equal rights. To strengthen my ego, I exercise prejudice against those with darker skin, flatter nose, curlier hair. To protect myself, I raise the walls of my house 40 feet high, employ a battalion of security guards, seal off my plush subdivision and forbid anybody who wears slippers and Pandas from entering it.
I am Elmo. I think I can get things by being cute and I do. Being handsome ensures my innocence and good standing. Looking like Aga Muhlach results in more opportunities for me. People who look good can never look bad.
I am Forgetful Sam. I have a convenient memory: it’s fractured, I forget the sins I’ve done to others. But I never forget other people’s debts.
I am the Count. I love counting. But I don’t like things that are easy to count; I don’t like wives because I can only have one. I love things that I can never tire of counting like money, cars, houses and mistresses. Life’s magnificence lies in the infinite.
I was raise on Sesame Street. I learned that the most powerful words you could know were just four letters long. That the most important numbers are the ones that have more zeros. That like Mr. Hooper, everybody dies. That in life everything is “brought to you today” by something or someone; everything is sponsored, life is one long commercial. That not everyone can “come and play” and that everything is not “A-okay.” How can I get away from Sesame Street?