Where did all the Cartoons Go?

By Matt Lavin

As a child, I would spring out of bed early each Saturday morning, stuff my face with sugar-saturated cereal, and watch cartoons with my brother and sisters until approximately 2 p.m. Like many Americans, we made a religion out of this weekly series of events. Cartoons like "Droids," "The Snorks," "Loony Toons" "The Smurfs," "Gummy Bears," and "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" ruled the airwaves. And they ruled with an iron fist. If we missed any of our favorite shows, we would be punished with panic attacks and headaches (and possibly diarrhea).

A few years ago I was surprised to find the cartoons had all but vanished from Saturday morning TV. If you try your damnedest, you can find an anime series shamelessly crafted to sell overpriced game cards. In most places, however, the Saturday morning cartoon has been replaced by the pre-teen soap opera, a genre of shows that belongs on the bottom of the ocean next to the "Star Wars" prequels. The last thing eight-year-olds need is one more reason to act like teenagers. They already have cell phone and Myspace pages, and half a dozen other mechanisms that make it easier for pedophiles to find and meet up with them. Our culture keeps pushing up the start-date for adolescence and condensing childhood in the process.
In seven years, I predict we'll see an all toddler version of "The Outsiders."

Alarmingly, lunchboxes have also receded into the West like an elf from "Lord of the Rings." Twenty years ago, you needed a lunchbox to explain which movie best described your life. "E.T.," meant you were like Eliot, an oversexed youngster with a "thing from another world" in your pants. "Indiana Jones" indicated a big ego and a love of whips and chains. "The Goonies" told your classmates succinctly that you were wealthy, and probably had a pool. If you had a "Muppets" lunchbox, you probably did acid.

I suggest simply and without malice that our society roll back its philosophy/culture of childhood to the year 1987. Kids will receive a complimentary pack of Bazooka Joe, a Pac Man game cartridge, and an issue of cosmic powers Spider-man. They'll call their friends when they get home from school, beg their parents to let them watch the music videos on MTV, and get up every Saturday looking forward to the most recent installment of "He-Man." Then they'll grow up to be snobbish pricks, just like we did. And some day, they'll thank us for it.