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Him & Her:
Soaking-up Philosophy from a Sponge
by Nancy and Dan Sapir

HE SAYS: When we were kids it was a special occasion when we went to the movies. Back then, there was always a cartoon or two as a bonus to whatever was the feature on the big screen. And boy did we love those cartoons. When television sets came down in price so one could be in every house, we had cartoons (in black and white) any day of the week, especially weekends. We grew up, went off to school, got married and worried about big people concerns. Cartoons were not a part of our post puberty program. Then we started having kids…four to be exact.

Kids changed everything, and reintroduced us to cartoons. No matter what we heard from the experts, she and I decided that we would submit to failure during numerous times, and let them sit transfixed to the TV. Once again, we were re-introduced to cartoons. There was no escaping them. For the most part, it was her responsibility to tend to the needs of the little cherubs, and they needed cartoons. Once the brood started growing up it was school, social events and eventually relationships and then marriage. That meant more kids…five to be precise.

Now she and I had grandchildren to watch. That brought a whole wave of new cartoons to the table. I can remember some tugboats that talked. The ringleader seemed to be a tug named Thomas. For about two years we experienced the trials and tribulations of Thomas. My wife bought everything Thomas as the hysteria spread. You could even go down to Connecticut and visit a train station dedicated to Thomas type trains. It was a cash cow, and that Christmas was a Thomas feeding frenzy. I though, “How lame can you get?"

Well, we certainly have graduated from Thomas. The latest craze is SpongeBob Squarepants. This yellow sponge with the high pitched voice, buck teeth and yellow body with stringy arms and legs has taken over America. Try to get the Halloween video, they’re out wherever you try. He’s everywhere: refrigerator magnets, talking dolls, crackers, coloring books, videos, posters, you name it. These grandchildren are in love with Sponge Bob, but that’s not my biggest problem…so is she.

SpongeBob is right up there with Imus and Chris Matthews. She actually watches the underwater events of a cartoon sponge. She says that SpongeBob is a delightful character. “If everybody had as much heart as Sponge Bob, this would be a better world" she proclaims. “SpongeBob is to be respected" she defends. “He strives during periods of adversity, he overcomes obstacles, sees the good in everyone, even with Squidworth, who doesn’t like Sponge Bob." Well, I’m on this guy Squidworth’s side. I think Sponge Bob’s a real dink. She goes on to explain to me that “SpongeBob is viewed by more adults then children. It contains very sophisticated humor. Sponge Bog is an icon for our times. He is not greedy, loves unconditionally, often fails but , and this is the important think Dan, never quits." Well, I think that’s swell. I’m really delighted that a cartoon sponge is teaching me life’s great lessons. This whole world has gone daft. And what’s wrong with her for buying into this whole Sponge Bog publicity, big business ripoff? Somebody is sitting in a studio, making millions on this little ocean wart.

I find her sitting home, alone, watching that sea urchin and believing she is a better person for having done so. I think a little more ironing, washing dishes and cooking would be time better spent. She buys all this SpongeBob stuff and keeps it at our house “So the grandkids have these little things here to play with. When they are older they will have fond thoughts of their visits with us, and SpongeBob is a major factor." Has it come to this! A fictitious whiner has begun to dictate lessons to live by. Can you imagine what this Christmas is going to be like?

I know we are a country that looks for heroes, but this is ridiculous. I would be embarrassed to have to admit to people that I watch SpongeBob SquarePants as part of my dietary television regimen. They would think I’ve gone daft. I can pop over the house during the day and find her sitting on the couch, clutching coffee in one hand and tissues in the other while she cries over the fact that somebody is being mean to Sponge Bob. People, there are people starving out there, there are terrorist attacks reported each day, people go off the deep end and commit acts of unspeakable horror...and what are we watching? A sponge that talks, providing us with words of wisdom, thoughts to live by, acts that draw tears from her eyes, is she losing it? When I get home from work I have to ask her what kind of day SpongeBob had in order to know what mood I’ll find her in. I mean, don’t we still have good daytime programming like Guiding Light and Search For Tomorrow any more?

HER: He lives in a pineapple under the sea, and when SpongeBob wakes up in the morning, he warmly greets his pet snail, Gary, stretches his little yellow arms, and shouts, “I’m ready! I’m ready!" My husband makes piggy sounds and mumbles, “Is the coffee done yet?" Right there he has something to learn from that sponge. SpongeBob does not say, “When’s your birthday, again?"

Modestly employed, SpongeBob is a fry cook at the Krusty Krab, and his goal is to be the best fry cook there ever was in Bikini Bottom. He is not at all concerned with the imbalance of power between employer and employee. He understands that his job is to please the guy that pays him even if he is a money grubbing, crotchety old crab. SpongeBob begs for job evaluations, any advice on how he can do his job better. This is anathema to me, and the only area where SpongeBob and I diverge. I am upset that he kowtows to his oppressor, but hey, no sponge is perfect.

Furthermore, SpongeBob shows deep respect and profound admiration for his girlfriend the squirrel from Texas, Sandy Cheeks, whose abilities far outstrip Sponge Bob’s in almost every way. SpongeBob apologizes when he’s wrong. He is tender toward helpless creatures like the baby scallop he rescued. His best friend, Patrick the starfish, is dumb as a stump, but the little yellow man loves him just the same. SpongeBob throws parties for little sea people who are feeling blue.

He is kind and generous and fun loving, naïve and trusting, and most of all, he is a sponge in love with the life he’s been given. How could anyone not love Sponge Bob? You’re beginning to see contrasts here, right?

My oldest grandson bought me a SpongeBob tee shirt. It’s a size four, and I am not, but of course I wear it anyway which rearranges the artwork so it looks like SpongeBob rectangle pants, but I am nonetheless proud to wear it. During SpongeBob marathons on Nicktoons, I sit happily on the couch knitting and crocheting and singing along with the SpongeBob song, and at these times, I know what true contentment is. I purchased three SpongeBob videos so that I can experience this pleasure day or night. You just have to see this sponge to appreciate him. He’s got the best laugh, and he does this little dance whenever’s he’s particularly happy. And his smile!!! Those two buck teeth radiate a whole lot of joy.

I take my life lessons wherever I find them, and the sponge reminds me to be grateful and happy for the life I’ve been given. I challenge my husband to enumerate the redeeming values of “The Man Show", for example, where breaking wind in a crowded elevator might be thought of as fun. Then there’s sports.

For hours he watches grown men toss each other around on a large patch of grass while they try to run a small ball from one end of the field to the other, all the while patting each other’s padded bottoms and high-fiveing each other until their palms hurt.

He’d give anything to be one of the actual spectators so he could paint his face red, white, and blue, and eat overcooked sausages while in a drunken state. This is a big case of ‘to each his own’, and that’s fine, but to mock a happy little sponge, this is cruel.

And so I say, "SpongeBob for Health Board!" .

by Nancy and Dan Sapir

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