Death of Big Bird

Death of Big Bird

We watched in horror as the space shuttle Challenger exploded in the earth’s stratosphere. A blooming white flower of smoke and debris, the first of the lilies laid at the tomb of America’s hopes and dreams. 

Some swore they could see singed yellow feathers in the smoke. They even had the photos to prove it. When these were later deemed to be doctored they were quickly pulled from circulation around the major news outlets, out of respect for the national treasure the nation mourned. 

Months spent working out the logistics of fitting the costume into the space craft, trying to adapt a suit to fit under or over the head of an eight foot bright yellow bird. It had to look real, not like a man in a costume was taking a leap to the stars. Big Bird was as real to the TV watching children as Reagan, and if NASA wasn’t going to take it seriously then they would pull out of the stunt altogether.  

The teacher standing by to replace him received the disappointing phone call a mere two weeks before the shuttle launched. They had figured it out, and Big Bird was heading into space. 

She was interviewed not long after the tragedy, unable to keep the tears from her eyes, more from relief than any real despair at losing her favourite Sesame Street character. The choice to step away from the limelight was a smart move, considering the hate mail that swamped her home in the following weeks. 

A whole month of mourning was issued, and even Reagan wore a black armband, though his critics adroitly surmised that he didn’t even know what channel PBS was on. The discussion of replacing Big Bird came and went, producers concluding that this was as good a time as any to teach children about the pain of grief. 

And grieve they did. 

Elmo was forced to tone down his shtick, the Cookie Monster was reprimanded with complaint after complaint for being able to eat in this trying time, and the Count spent whole weeks totting up the cards and wreaths sent in by heartbroken fans. 

The sudden death of one of its main draws, which the more mercenary producers feared would hit their viewing numbers, actually seemed beneficial for the show. Figures were higher than ever, with unprecedented growth in areas which previously had little reach. Southern States, the Bible belt, all were tuning in, looking for answers, wrestling with a grief that was both unexpected and all consuming. 

Here, then, was the opportunity to make a difference. 

The pivot to pure political propaganda was steady yet subtle. And considering how Sesame Street never shied away from social topics in the past, some people were completely oblivious to the change. 

“How many budget cuts did NASA go through? One budget cut, ahahah! Two budget cuts, ahahah! three budget cuts, ahahah!”

“One of these things is not like the other, one of these things exploded”  

The jokes ranged from comically dark to completely inappropriate, stirring the already boiling pot of anger which had to be directed somewhere. 

It found a handy source. 

Reagan buckled after the second press conference, when reporters repeatedly demanded to know why NASA engineers were ignored? Why the insistence to launch when the conditions were so poor that the O-rings malfunctioned? And what exactly was an ‘O-ring’ anyway?

He dodged, he deflected, he failed to answer, stuttering out a denial that the pressure to launch had anything to do with his state of the union address, scheduled for that very same day, a direct video link from Congress to the shuttle on standby. 

The most scathing headline read “Reagan’s attempt to buy his popularity with blood disastrously backfires”

Then attention turned to William Robert Graham, the yes man, the lackey, the NASA administrator who vowed to do anything to keep on Regan’s good side. He was the first to be thrown under the bus, yet even his termination wasn’t enough to quell the fire spreading through the fifty states. 

Only one option left for the floundering Republican party; forcing Reagan to resign and triggering an early election. The Democrats watched the polls with greedy eyes, hopeful that the absence of felt blood on their hands would secure an easy win. It made the blindsiding all the more satisfying when the independent party, born from trauma, fueled by rage, and ever focused on a brighter future, rose to prominence. 

The Party of Big Bird. 

Jim Hensen denied all involvement in its conception, though documents leaked years later confirmed he was one of their biggest donors. Like most political movements, this one started out as a joke which could easily be brushed aside. And if not for the thousands of dollars of merch, the campaign ads running every morning for decades, and the general goodwill it had fostered which couldn’t be bought at any price, a joke it may have remained. 

“The most important lesson I’ve learned is that first you have to dream, then you have to believe in your dreams”

Straight from the mouth of Big Bird himself. Hard to campaign against such ardent optimism as that. 

The presidential campaign was long, often confusing, and downright farcical at points. No Muppet was elected to the White House, even if several had their time to shine in the debates. Bert and Ernie were particularly popular with test audiences, and created mostly organic opportunities to talk openly about the AIDS crisis. 

Sonia Manzano, one of the first Latina actors on TV, was chosen as the face of the party, and on the 5th January 1989, she led the Party of Big Bird to become the 41st President of the United States of America. 

The addition of Muppets at the inauguration overshadowed the fact that she was not only the first Latina, but also the first woman ever to hold that position. It made a change from the racism and sexism which contributed to the usual canopy she lived under her entire life. 

“Believe in your dreams!”

A battle cry held aloft as a beacon of hope. Yellow armbands adorned with “What would Big Bird do?” sold out as soon as any shop had them in stock. Public broadcasting never enjoyed such decadent funding, the shuttle program was shelved after a thorough inquiry was held into the compounding failures of each almost doomed flight. Science, critical thinking, and diversity were the new focus of government spending. It’s what Big Bird would have wanted, muttered the children quickly aging into the new generation of voters. He cared about the rainforest, he would want to clear the rivers of pollution, he wouldn’t deny critical medical care for sick children. 

So many policies which previously met such ardent opposition in congress now passed through with relative ease. Overwhelming public support is one hell of a lubricant. 

And never once was there a question of whether the political spectrum was getting a little too ‘Commie’ for the average American. Big Bird wasn’t a Russian infiltrator. As far as anyone knew, he didn’t adhere to any political system at all. Birds, it was often stated, aren’t even allowed to vote. 

The country was slowly waking up to the idea which Sesame Street had preached for years. It was a simple thing to sell kindness when packaged in eight feet of yellow feathers. 

Many called for the dismantling of NASA, the ultimate villain in a story co-opted by hope. It took some convincing before the louder critics were finally quelled. All those job losses, is that what Big Bird would want?

Besides, now with the shuttle program out of the way, humanity could once more turn its gaze to the heavens. 

Ad Astra Per Aspera. A simple phrase to adorn the monument honouring all those who sacrificed everything for a brighter future, and whose remains never made it back to terra firma. Through hardship to the stars. So much hardship, and it would, it had to, mean something. 

The first manned flight to Mars finally arrived. Meticulously planned, tested and retested, the launch delayed until the conditions were perfect. Who said people are incapable of learning from their mistakes?

President Monzano was in attendance, the end of her second term looming. Not that anyone was particularly worried. The Party of Big Bird was going strong, and whichever candidate they chose next was sure to win by a landslide. 

Well, unless they chose Oscar the Grouch. 

Several Muppets were watching the launch from the bandstand, such a common sight that even foreign news outlets didn’t bother commentating on it anymore. 

Thirty seconds to countdown, it might as well have been thirty hours for the apprehensive families, waiting whilst paralyzed with fear, praying that this time it really would be different. 

And humanity cheered as the rocket blasted into the stratosphere, wept as the images of the first steps on that red planet were broadcast worldwide, and the cosmos, for so long unattainable to the billions huddled in darkness across mother earth, opened its arms wide. 

What came next? Few could agree, though one sentiment was heard over and over. 

Big Bird would be so proud.