I scratched this out today and immediately regretted it. Why? It made me sad. And think too much.
I'll explain.
A long time ago I observed something about the Muppet-verse. Of all of the original muppets, Rowlf was the only one who appeared to be a success. Think about it...Miss Piggy just wanted to be beautiful, Gonzo just wanted Miss Piggy, Fozzy just wanted to be funny, Kermit just wanted to make a show that didn't fall apart at the seams...the list goes on. They're all inherent failures.
Except for Rowlf. He's a fantastic pianist, and appears to be living the dream. A while back, I found out I was not a unique and special snowflake, and that someone else had this same revelation. Scott Kurtz did a comic about it, and in doing so coined the term Muppet Jesus. Which, as a side note, I still want to do a piece on. But that got me thinking. What if Rowlf wasn't the exception to the rule? What if he was, in fact, the most tragic example. What if he had a dream that had nothing to do with playing a piano, but never pursued it? What if he took the job as a part-time gig, and now wonders where his life went? At least the others attempted and continue to strive for their goals. All the dog can do is bang on the ivories and howl at the moon when it all gets too real.
These are the things I think about.
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