Five Lessons Learned from Pee-wee Herman, by a Life-Long Fan
I was born in 1983. I straddle the border between young enough to know what “cool” is and too old to be writing for a pop culture site. I’m married with two dogs, I have a respectable day job, and I’m really, really good at centering a week’s worth of dinners around a grocery store sale selection. Seriously, you can’t touch this.
I first became aware of television when I was about three, and was fully in charge of the remote control on Saturday mornings by the time I was six. The children’s television show known as Pee-wee’s Playhouse first aired in 1986, and reached the height of its popularity sometime around 1989. The young, impressionable mind of little Sara Clemens was ripe for the wit, wisdom, and hubris that was Pee-wee Herman. This is her story.
Pee-wee Herman was the first personal hero I ever had. It wasn’t just because he was unafraid to be genuinely excited about the mundane happenstances of everyday life, it wasn’t because he found a reason to laugh at most things, or because he had a million friends, or a souped-up scooter, bike, playhouse. It wasn’t because he had no parents telling him what to do, or because he was a nouveau Peter Pan who dressed like some sort of fifties fop, or because he played with toys with the seriousness of a scholar. It wasn’t because the amount of fucks he had to give about other people’s opinion of him was zero to nil. It was all of these things. Here are the 5 major things Pee-wee Herman taught me about life. And Pee-wee Herman taught me everything I know.
Do Your Own Thing
Back in 1980, Paul Reubens auditioned for Saturday Night Live. He didn’t make the cut. But instead of hunkering down, honing his comedian’s chops in the direction they wanted in order to be ready for the next season’s auditions, he started his own stage show based around a character he had created in his early days with the LA-based improv troupe The Groundlings. That character was a guy who was already a bad comic (a brilliant preemptive strike against critics and hecklers alike), a dude who couldn’t deliver a punchline to save his life or remember the best way to tell a joke, but was always able to retain the upper hand (“I know you are, but what am I?”).
His show eventually evolved into a brilliant parody of a children’s show, rife with inappropriate humor. Pee-wee played it straight, though, never acknowledging any innuendo, always maintaining his innocent demeanor. He was so good at it that CBS eventually offered him a deal to do an actual children’s show. And being a working stiff, he accepted. Being a genius, he didn’t relinquish the off-color overtones, and Pee-wee’s Playhouse ended up becoming one of the savviest children’s shows on television. Fast forward the better part of two decades, he combined his original stage show with Playhouse and we were all gifted with this little gem on Broadway:
Remember that time when Stephen Colbert was invited to the 2006 White House Correspondent’s dinner because nobody associated with it knew the definition of “ironic?” Ha ha yeah, me neither!
Go Big or Go Home
The Pee-wee’s Playhouse Christmas Special has been an annual tradition in my house since it aired in 1988. I taped it from TV on a VCR, and literally wore that VHS out watching it every year. I was ecstatic when I got it on DVD as an adult — though I realized I was seriously missing the commercials for Isotoner gloves and The California Raisins’ and Garfield’s respective Christmas specials. Childhood nostalgia is flooding through me as I write this. Isotoner gloves! Hershey Kisses playing “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” like bells (that one still airs)! The McDonald’s ice-skating commercial! The Honey Nut Cheerios bee and Scrooge! ETA: Recently, I’ve found this version to help give me back those 1980’s commercial vibes.
Pee-wee was king of children’s television at the time, and he managed to get an amazing all-star lineup for his show: Original Mouseketeers Annette Funicello and Frankie Avalon, Whoopi Goldberg, Joan Rivers, Charo, The Del Rubio Triplets, Magic Johnson, Dinah Shore, Grace Jones, Oprah Winfrey, k.d. lang, Little Richard, Zsa Zsa Gabor, and Morpheus (okay not really—but Cowboy Curtis, played by Laurence Fishburne, was a series regular). But who cares about guest stars when you’ve got an opening number like this?
Kids, if you’re going to do something, DO it. Life’s too short for half-assing.
Tequila
Enough said.
Moderation
Tequila? Thumbs up. Crack? Thumbs down.
People Fuck Up
People do. They fuck up. They get caught with their pants down, figuratively and literally. They gain success by being smarter than the average comic and get away with performing in a children’s television show that trucks in innuendo so parents have something to laugh at, and then it comes back to bite them in the ass. They live in a time without private internet access and sneak out to a darkened theater to do something nearly every person on the planet does. They get caught, they get arrested, they get thrown in jail, and the media turns the event into a circus.
I was too young at the time to really know what the hell was going on, but my mom realized even then that the story of Paul Reubens’ arrest was blown way out of proportion, and told me so. I mean, twenty years later a comedy star has done the exact same thing and people couldn’t give two shits. I think it was trending on Twitter for a whole minute.
So let’s say you’ve shit the proverbial bed. What are you going to do? It’s cool with me if you want to take some time. You’re probably freaked out, and the rumor mill is already working against you. It’s working so well, in fact, that thirteen years later when the grown up version of the little nerd that idolized you pops in a dvd collection of your show, her dumbass college housemate will comment with complete conviction, “that guy’s a child molester!” (She will punch him. Not that punching people’s okay. But fuck that guy.)
So take a break. Collect yourself. You could start small, be hilarious in a popular primetime television show, make a few movies here and there. Then maybe show up somewhere as your infamous character. By then, people will have either forgotten the whole thing or realize there are worse indiscretions that have been committed by Hollywood elite (Roman Polanski, actual child molester, please enjoy your thriving career and awards!). But why not be a badass and make a triumphant return just two months after your arrest?
You are, have been, and always will be my hero, P-Dubs. Because of you, I’m not afraid to be smart, funny, all-around awesome, over-the-top, wildly imaginative, or in possession of a better sense of humor than most people. I’m not afraid to dance on a bar in front of a bunch of dudes who want to kill me, or never age, or wear clothes just because I like them, or spend too long constructing a breakfast machine in my dining room, or scream real loud, or royally mess up in a big, messy, and public way. I meant to do that. And all my parties, Christmas or otherwise, will be epic.
I love you, Pee-wee. (So why don’t you marry me?)
A version of this piece originally appeared at Unreality.
