"You know, you don't have to look like everybody else to be acceptable and to feel acceptable."

I didn't entirely wake to NPR's quiet report that Fred Rogers, kindly neighboor, had passed during the night, and couldn't understand why I was having such ridiculous and terrible dream, but as the room came slowly into focus and Bob Edwards's voice continued to march forward, I realized that the idea wasn't absurd, alternate-universe dream-fodder. Mr. Rogers will no longer grace our kids' television screens. This has drawn a line between the children of today and generations who'd travelled on that ridiculous little train to his makebelieve puppet world and sing along, patiently observing the ritual of familiar white tennis shoes and red cardigan. 'Tis a sad, sad day. «

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