How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Grudgingly Tolerate Blippi
It’s not easy being the broke, chronically depressed father of two Neurodivergent children. In fact it’s extremely difficult. The only thing that has made it possible until recently was that neither of my children were into Blippi, the wildly popular, unbelievably annoying children’s entertainer.
My introduction to Blippi was about as unsavory as possible. I learned that a man born Stephen J. Grossman who performed under the name Steezy Grossman had done a Harlem Shake video (remember those?) where he explosively defecated on a naked friend.
The character of Steezy Grossman, is, according to Wikipedia, “a boy who was born as poop after his parents had anal sex.”
Grossman would become world famous under a different name, however: Blippi. When the Steezy Grossman Harlem Shake poop video was unearthed the children’s entertainment industry was faced with a dilemma. It could make a billion dollars from Blippi, his videos, toys, live shows and various other financial endeavors or it could forego that billion dollars on the grounds that a shock comic who indulges in poop play has no business entertaining their children.
It’s not unlike the dilemma the Kevin Clash scandal posed for Sesame Street. Do you similarly give up a BILLION dollars by gradually retiring Elmo in order to keep the public from thinking too much about the man who made him famous having sex with barely legal teenagers who then filed lawsuits against him? Or do you change puppeteers and hope the public has a bad, fuzzy memory?
As with Blippi, the children’s entertainment business held its nose and figured that children wouldn’t even know about Clash and Grossman’s child-unfriendly secrets so there was no point stopping the money train when you can simply have another puppeteer play Elmo.
My blissfully Blippi-free existence ended a few weeks back when my three year old Harris’ nanny introduced him to the excessively enthusiastic superstar performer.
My son was hooked. Why wouldn’t he be? Children love Blippi. He’s a brightly colored cartoon character, an ebullient man-child who is excited about literally everything in the world.
There’s plenty of children’s entertainment that adults can enjoy as well. That’s not Blippi. Blippi has NOTHING to offer adults. It’s not like Nightmare Before Christmas or Turning Red or Encanto or Sesame Street, to cite some of my children’s other favorites.
Here’s the thing: Blippi is not supposed to be for me. That’s okay. Before I had children I labored under the delusion that the point of children’s entertainment was to entertain adults. If it entertained children as well that was a great bonus but also a secondary concern.
I had it backwards. Kid’s shows are for kids and it is arrogant and entitled to feel otherwise.
I love anything that makes my Harris happy and while I am very far from loving Blippi I have learned to grudgingly tolerate him because my son digs him and Blippi is harmless and even mildly educational.
So when I learned that Blippi would be coming to Atlanta, I bought tickets despite knowing that the Blippi we would be paying good money to see live in Blippi: The Musical was not THE Blippi but rather an actor portraying the role of Blippi.
Blippi is the Gallagher of children’s entertainment in that there is a second Blippi (call him Blippi 2) who plays the character in live performances but also in videos as well.
Blippi: The Musical fucking sucked. How could it not? The character is grating and one note. His songs are drivel. Yet because Harris has a great time I did as well.
I’m not sure I have ever had so much fun experiencing something so self-evidently terrible.
I’m glad Blippi makes Harris happy. But I will be even happier when and if he outgrows him.
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