I can tell you how to get to Sesame Street but you’re not gonna like it.

Sesame Street, it’s more than it seems, friends. I have a theory. I came up with it when I got to see the first ever episode of Sesame Street from 1969. It opens with a afro-ed early version of Gordon leading a shy little girl down Sesame Street. He introduces her to his wife, says she’s new to Sesame Street and is going to stay here now. His wife Susan comes and collects the little girl, showering with cookies and maternal affection. Then come the fun furry monsters and cartoon shorts.Those children are dead, you know. That is their heaven.

A heaven specifically for urban American children, who recognize the street’s appearance as familiar, comfortable. (That’s also why there are SO many different versions of Sesame Street throughout the world…various heavens).

But think about it. A place made just for children. Where every adult loves you, takes care of you, but doesn’t ever yell or punish. Where the monsters want hugs, where cartoons and puppets flicker right in between frames of reality. Also I think it might be a heaven particularly for abused kids, as they don’t want nor miss the parents that hurt them.

So every time a child dies, they wake up in their nicest playclothes, walking down the tidy grey street, past Oscar’s trashcan, where Bob or Maria or Gordon will be waiting for them with a warm smile and endless love.

I’m not sure which shows represent other heavens. But I think Zoobilee Zoo might be where the bad children go.

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