The Muppets have been sad lately, and I don’t like it. They know every celebrity and it seems that, at least within the past month, every celebrity is dying. I never expected to read a eulogy written by Miss Piggy or scroll through post after post of puppets reminiscing upon their human friends. Granted, I am only referring to four posts, but even one is too many when your favorite childhood characters are in mourning.
I don’t know how the Muppets do it. The first time a celebrity I adored passed away, Luke Perry in 2019, I cried like a baby. Though this may be a tad bit parasocial, the impact that celebrities have on us is undeniable. Luke Perry was a generational name in my house; I grew up with Riverdale, and my mom grew up with Beverly Hills, 90210. We loved Luke Perry; we were devastated.
Of course, I have dealt with a handful of beloved celebrity deaths since then, but it has never been so many in such a short span of time. I loved Dolly Parton and Tim Curry; I worshipped Gloria Steinem. The Muppets, though, the Muppets knew them. They made movies with these celebrities, talked to them about friendship, sang songs together. I was already sad when Dolly Parton died, but if she died and I had sang with her, my heart would be shattered. Their poor Muppet hearts.
Am I speaking of felt and string as if they are real people? Yes. The Muppets are very real to me. Like Luke Perry, my mom and I both grew up with them in differing forms. She had more The Muppet Show where I had more Elmo’s World, but it was still another point of our lives that crossed, that connected, that influenced us both.
Of course, my mom and I are not the only ones who adore these characters. They have met with celebrities who resonate with all audiences, from Bernadette Peters to Barbara Bush. Miss Piggy has argued with Joan Rivers, and Kermit has sung with Julie Andrews. Michael Caine, famous only for his role as Scrooge in The Muppet Christmas Carol, summarized the impact and fame of the Muppets plainly in an interview with GQ: “Oh Kermit is much more famous [than me], because he’s known by children as well as all adults. And I’m known by many, many, many adults, but he’s known by all adults. And then I’m known by few children, but he’s known by every child.” The Muppets know everybody, and everybody knows the Muppets.
I guess I’m not sure what my point is; maybe I just wanted to write about the Muppets. What I do know is that I don’t like when the Muppets, puppets with permanent smiles on their faces, are sad. In a dramatic way, it almost feels like a part of my childhood is being ruined. If I try to think about this topic maturely, though, I slowly realize that their sadness is a good thing. For years, Kermit and his friends have raised children, taught them about emotions, and helped them learn how to make friends. If they can’t be sad, how can we?
Instead, I’ll look back on their eulogies for their friends and share in their mourning. I will mourn Tim Curry with them like I mourned Luke Perry with my mother, and I will continue as long as life keeps taking celebrities away from us. The biggest thing that has gotten me through all of this, however, is that the Muppets will never die.