Sesame Street

 Jasper was a quiet child, generally not prone to getting into or causing trouble. His grandparents, under whose watchful eyes she was being raised, were born in the late 1800s and from the old school in every conceivable way. No air conditioning, only a big window fan in the rear of the house; no doorbell, only an iron knocker; no shower, only a clawfoot tub that never saw more than a gallon of water at a time. As Jasper approached a man and woman deeply engaged in a deeply heated argument, he recalled Grandpa Simeon’s stern voice reminding him, “I want to see you, not hear you.” “Only speak when I speak to you!” And most importantly, “Stay out of grown folks business!” Now, given the proximity of the couple to each other’s personal space and the growing intensity of the quarrel, Jasper knew that this was indeed no time to be bothering grown folks! Somehow, though, it seemed like the thing to do. “It doesn’t look like rain at all today,” he interrupted. The couple stopped for a moment and looked at Jasper as though he must have lost every single bit of sense if he ever had any. “Rain?” scoffed the lady as she gazed to the heavens with thoroughly agitated aplomb. The boy could only sing what came to mind:

“Sunny Day
Sweepin' the clouds away,
On my way to where the air is sweet.
Can you tell me how to get,
How to get to Sesame Street?

Come and play
Everything's A-OK.
Friendly neighbors there
That's where we meet.
Can you tell me how to get,
How to get to Sesame Street?
How to get to Sesame Street?”

With this proclamation, Jasper had put the couple in a bit of a conundrum. Pride or innocence? Unwilling to relinquish her position so easily, the woman glared at the child and stated emphatically, “No such place exists as that; now get lost!” But when she turned again to the original victim of her vitriol, he was sporting a grin reminiscent of childlike discovery. “Young man,” he said gently, “you’re already there.” The couple embraced and Jasper quickly looked away and continued on his sojourn home.