Mister Rogers' Newest Neighbors

Mister Rogers has inspired all kinds of wonderful people to do all kinds of wonderful thing.

You already know Brian Linder, whose "Save Mister Rogers" campaign gained national media attention and over six thousand members on Facebook. Brian and I continue to exchange emails, and plot bigger things for our collective affection for Mister Rogers and his values.

In the coming weeks and months, I'll endeavor to introduce you to a few other Neighborhood friends you may not have met, but who've reached through the Internets to say hello.

Tim Lybarger's "Neighborhood Archive" is an ever-growing, DIY resource for other Mister Rogers fans.

"I continued to hold a dear appreciation for Mister Rogers, the values he taught, and the legacy he has left," he explains. "I have a fairly respectable collection of Mister Rogers memorabilia, have recorded episodes from television broadcasts (I'm only missing five or six from 1980 and beyond), and I enjoy a hot cup of coffee every morning from my Mister Rogers' Neighborhood coffee mug."

I asked Tim if he had met Mister Rogers. He replied thusly:

Unfortunately, I don't have a picture of me and Mister Rogers to pass along. The closest I ever came to that was a letter to him at the time of the completion of my undergraduate degree thanking him for his positive contribution to my life. In reply, I received a very humbling letter from him thanking me for my contact and wishing me the best as I enter the world of education. One of my most prized possessions to say the least.

Responding to Tim's letter -- one of hundreds that week, no doubt -- is the essence of Mister Rogers. All of those small gestures aggregate into something larger: a legacy.

Mister Rogers, Avid & Me

Well, that didn't take long. Or did it?

Two weeks ago, my brother handed off a hard drive loaded with "Mister Rogers & Me" footage, and taught me Avid Editing 101.

After a fifteen-day period that included ten of travel (and one marathon), I sat down in front of the computer to get started.

You'll recall that I first met Mister Rogers in September, 2001. Principle photography for our little, DIY documentary began in June, 2006. We've been steadily chipping away ever since, including weekend shoots in Washington, DC, Durham, NC, Fredericksburgh, VA, Pittsburgh, PA, and Nantucket, MA.

We've interviewed Tim Russert, Susan Stamberg, Bo Lozoff, Amy Hollingsworth, Tim Madigan, Marc Brown, and Linda Ellerbee.

Last summer, we applied to Independent Film Week, but didn't make the cut. Chris found out he was going to be a father for the third time. I found out I was going to run MTV News.

So here we are, eight years later. I spent most of last night poking around Avid. It's like the most-complicated, 3D puzzle you can imagine. Worse, with my level of competence, it's like assembling that puzzle with my nose. At this rate, it'll be another eight years before anyone sees this sweet, little story..

So I just sent two emails: one to Save Mister Rogers founder Brian Linder, and Nerdcore Rising director Negin Farsad. Because I'm inches away from a) launching a fundraiser and b) hiring a professional to finishing this thing.

Stay tuned...

"Mister Rogers & Me" And, Um, Me!

As predicted, "Mister Rogers & Me" is now in my hands.

First, it was Christofer and me.

Then, we were hoping "Golden Days" director/editor, Chris Suchorsky, was going to bring "Mister Rogers & Me" home.

It fell apart right around Thanksgiving.

Since then, I've installed Avid software onto my (actually, Abbi's) laptop. And tonight Chris came over for Avid 101.

Given my schedule in the coming weeks (inauguration this weekend, Miami Marathon next weekend, Grammys and Oscars in February), the odds of hitting the Nantucket Film Festival deadline (March) is a way, ways, WAY long shot.

If I could learn ProTools and self-produce "The Invention of Everything Else," though, well...

Well, we'll see.

And by the way: In the photo of Chris and me at my living room table here, you'l lnotice a photo o fMister Rogers just over my head. You might say he's looking out for me or something.

Mrs. Rogers Calls For Secretary Of The Arts

Mrs. Rogers doesn't email me too often, When she does, I take notice.

The first time was in response to my inquiries about making "Mister Rogers & Me."

The second was a few summers ago in response to my inquiries as to whether she'd be in Nantucket over Labor Day.

The third was yesterday morning.

The email was a simple, forwarded email (the kind one gets from one's parents with all of the recipient's email addresses visible, and all of the forwarding information in the body) that read thusly:

If you are interested to join us, it takes only a few moments to add your signature to this petition to the President-Elect.

Hope springs eternal!

Joanne

* * *

What did Marni Nixon, Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg, Jan Opalach, Marin Alsop, John Corigliano, David Amram, Branford Marsalis, James Moody, Harolyn Blackwell, Phil Woods, Tracey Moore, Jane Alexander and 10,000+ others sign?

The SECRETARY OF THE ARTS PETITION inspired by Quincy Jones.

This petition is the fastest way to demonstrate to Obama and Congress that the Arts in America matter, and they need to be supported during this financial crisis!

Apparently, Quincy suggested the new gig (beats "Arts Czar") on a November 15 interview on WNYC's "Soundcheck."

"My passion in life now, and one of the first conversations I'll have with President Obama," Jones said, "Is to beg for a Secretary of the Arts."

The Rogers passion is certainly the arts. In addition to being a television icon, Fred was a songwriter and pianist. Joanne is an accomplished concert pianist as well.

And it stands to reason, right? We have secretaries of agriculture, defense, labor, veteran's affairs. Heck, we have people looking after the "Office of National Drug Control Policy" and "Homeland Security." As a nation who's primary export is increasingly creative, intellectual property (Hollywood, Broadway, Silicon Valley), why not address the arts holistically?

The petition currently has 27664 signees. 27665 with my signature.

Hope does spring eternal. It must.

Blame The Bailout On Mister Rogers? Really?

Odd as it was for Christofer and I to find ourselves defending Mister Rogers legacy as we traveled around the Northeast shooting "Mister Rogers & Me" a few years ago, it's odder still how his values continue to be twisted and held accountable for all sorts of modern woes.

Some found his gentle spirit "creepy," and associated him with all sorts of unfounded, unsubstantiated malfeasance. Other had fallen prey to the rumors that he was a former Navy SEAL or Army sniper ("That's why he always wore long sleeves," more than one reasoned with us. "To hide his tattoos.").

A few months ago, you'll recall, the Wall Street Journal scapegoated Mister Rogers for a generation of "entitled" kids.

Well, Fox News is at it again, blaming Mister Rogers for the economic bailout.

My pal, Save Mister Rogers founder Brian Linder, has already crafted an articulate reply to the "Fair & Balanced" assertion:

The rampant greed and narcissism of the Me Generation may indeed be responsible for the current economic crisis, but to blame any part of it on Fred Rogers, even if it’s somewhat in jest, shows a gross misunderstanding of the expressions of care that this special man attempted to touch children’s lives with through his television work.

This piece seems to be a riff on a similarly misguided statement that an LSU finance professor made in a July 2007 Wall Street Journal piece, and I said the same thing then.

The idea of "Me first, I get what’s mine first" runs completely counter to every sentiment ever expressed on Mister Rogers' Neighborhood.

Rogers’ belief that every child and grownup should have a proper sense of self-worth, the awareness that every individual is unique and special, and the love of one’s neighbor, are the very antidote to the cultural problems of entitlement, elitism, and conceit that have brought us to this unfortunate place.

I hope you’ll find the following quote from Fred Rogers to show that if we had all listened more carefully to him, then we’d surely be better off today:

“When I say, ‘It’s you I like,' I’m talking about that part of you that knows that life is far more than anything you can ever see or hear or touch… and that deep part of you that allows you to stand for those things without which humankind cannot survive: love that conquers hate, peace that rises triumphant over war, and justice that proves more powerful than greed.” - Fred Rogers

Thanks, Brian. I couldn't have said better myself.

What's Going On With "Mister Rogers & Me"?

What's going on with Wagner Bros. Pictures, LLC's still-forthcoming documentary, "Mister Rogers & Me?"

I'm glad you asked. Or, I'm glad my pen pal Magnus did.

"When I inquired about the documentary a few months ago [you said] it was on hold," he writes. "I don't know what the progress is, or what's holding it up, but I just wanted to encourage you to keep at it. I know you are extremely busy with all your other endeavors, but this project is as important now as it ever was. Keep at it! You were chosen to remind people of the deep and simple."

Thanks, Magnus.

Yes, I am busy. My day job at MTV News continues to expand. And I'm releasing two records in the next three weeks: my own "Live At Rockwood Music Hall" tomorrow, and our second holiday benefit CD, "A Holiday Benefit, Vol. II," December 1.

So here's the deal.

It took us an inordinate amount of time to get the first thirty minutes together for our Independent Film Week application. We worked every night until three o'clock in the morning for about a month. Then we didn't get in, which knocked the wind out of our sails. Then summer swallowed me up: Movie Awards, Video Music Awards, etc.

After a period of deep discussion and soul searching, it became abundantly apparent to my brother, Christofer, and I that he didn't have the bandwidth to finish the edit. His day job requires him 10-18 hours of non-linear editing as is. Plus, he's a father of two with a third on the way.

So, "Golden Days" director Chris Suchorsky currently has a drive with all of our footage, and has agreed to edit the Tim Russert segment on spec. If that works out (which we should know by Thanksgiving at the latest), Wagner Bros. Pictures, LLC, will hire Chris to finish the film with us.

If not, I'm going to take over. I've learned enough ProTools to self-produce my own albums (see: "The Invention Of Everything Else"). I figure I can do this too. I just won't do anything else after work and on weekends until it's done. If I were a bettin' man, I'd say that's where we're headed. Which is fine with me, as no one is more committed to finishing "Mister Rogers & Me" than me.

Mister Rogers is everywhere in my life. Here in my office, there are three photos of him within eyeshot of my computer monitor, and one more on the shelf above my head. At home, he's on the fridge, and in the living room. Rare, then, is the day pass in which I don't pause, look at him, and smile.

So, Magnus, thanks for asking.

We will finish the film.

I promise.

The Fred Rogers Center, Brian Linder & Me

Just shy of a year ago, Chris and I drove through Latrobe, Pennsylvania, looking for a sign of Mister Rogers in his hometown. We couldn't find a statue or school, didn't know his childhood adress, and didn't think visiting his grave was in keeping with the film.

We drove to the highest spot we could find, looked out over the valley, spotted Saint Vincent College shining in the distance. There, just below the twin-steepled, red-brick basilica, we could scarcely discern a muddy patch of construction where the Fred Rogers Center For Early Learning & Children's Media sat half-built.

Truth is, we'd done little more than a drive-by less than an hour prior. At the time, while we had Mrs. Rogers' blessing, we still weren't sure whether we had his Family Comminications'. We didn't want to jeopardize it by setting up a tripod and camera outside the center, so we slowed down, shot out the window, and kept going.

Fast-forward a year, and the Fred Rogers Center has officially opened its doors.

The center's mission is to advance the state of early learning and children's media by acting as a catalyst for communication, collaboration and creative change across both fields.

Moreover, the center has a new director who appears to understand just how radically the media landscape has shifted in the five years since Mister Rogers passing.

"The distinction between a child being a user and consumer [of media] has been obliterated," said Maxwell King, who became director of the center last month. "We want to provide guidance and standards" for children, parents and educators.

In a stroke of synchronicity, "Save Mister Rogers" advocate Brian Linder called yesterday.

Seems Brian -- who's frustration with PBS' decision to cease daily delivery of the show to its affiliates inspired his movement -- is finding himself drawn to the storytelling around The Neighborhood too. Specifically, he's connecting with former cast members like Neighbor Aber (Chuck Aber), Lady Aberlin (Betty Aberlin), and Handy Man Negri (Joe Negri), all of whom have terrific stories to tell.

I told him that if I had unlimited resources and time, I'd quit The MTV today, and we'd go interview all of 'em together. Brian (who works for IGN, is married and the father of twin daughters) laughed and agreed; unfortunately, resources and time are limited.

Instead, we hatched a plan to meet at the Center -- with or without cameras -- sometime soon.

"It's written into the films' epilogue anyway," I told him. "I'll send you the script."

I hope we can pull it off.

Mister Rogers, Divorce & Me

"Mister Rogers Talks To Parents About Divorce" premiered on Sunday February 15, 1981, just as my parents' marriage was falling apart.

Unfortunately, it took twenty-five years to learn of the show's existence, and until this afternoon to see it myself for the very first time.

All I knew of Susan Stamberg's relationship to Fred Rogers when I walked into NPR's Washington, DC, studios way back in November, 2006, was that the two had taped some television specials together in the '80s. Imagine my surprise, then, when I discovered the topic of the specials was divorce, something my family had endured, and about which Mister Rogers and I had conversed.

When our copy of the show was finally shipped from FCI last week, my sense of serendipity was heightened still when Chris told me the original air date.

The hour-long special is nothing if not deep and simple. Susan hosts, fielding questions from the WQED studio audience, while Fred and author and bereavement counselor, Rabbi Earl Grollman, respond. Periodically, Fred tosses to brief interview segments with young children.

The set, graphics, and wardrobe are antiquated to be sure. Still, the premise, pacing and patience is so Fred Rogers: deep and simple through and through.

At one point, Susan asks him why the Neighborhood had recently taken its viewers on a tour of the inside of a plane.

There are a lot of children who have to fly alone back and forth between their mothers and their fathers. And I've talked to stewardesses who say that sometimes they're scared, and sometimes they cry.

For any of you who know anything about my recording career (and for those of you who don't, my 2001 song, "Crash Site," was a metaphor for my parent's divorce, and the airplane trips shuttling between them), it was a section I had to watch twice.

As Susan wrapped up the show, and Fred said his final words -- warm and sage as always -- I found myself standing there in front of the television with a big smile on my face, and even bigger crocodile tears in my eyes.

"Remember," he said, "How persistent the feelings of childhood are all through our lives."

Saving Mister Rogers

I'm blessed and lucky for my brief but meaningful time with Mister Rogers, and the wheels those few moments set in motion.

When I need a dose of calm, or insight on managing my anger, sadness, or fear in the face of this crazy, crazy world, I don't have to go anywhere or do anything. I just pause, and I hear him in my head.

What's more, he's rarely out of eyeshot. At my office, a photo of us in the living room of his Crooked House rests on a shelf above my desk, and a postcard reading, "It's such a good feeling to know that we're friends" is tacked to my bulletin board. At home, I've framed the very first photo he sent me, one that reads, "For my real ACK neighbor!" Another postcard (this one reading "You make each day a special day by just your being you!") is on the refrigerator.

When the news broke a few weeks ago that PBS told member stations it would send them just one weekly episode of "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood" instead of one daily, I'll be honest: I was sad, but not terribly surprised.

He is a permanent part of my life, as influential as many of my friends and family. What's more, by the time I have children old enough to watch, best as I can tell from my conversations with FCI, Fred will be available either on DVD or on-demand, or both.

As media executive, I wasn't terribly shocked. Throughout the making of "Mister Rogers & Me," Chris and I have seen tiny examples of Fred's on-air presence diminishing on the local level. At one point, I launched a small letter writing campaign.

In general, though, while Chris and I discussed addressing it in the film, and even advocating on the show's behalf, it felt like more than I could chew given the context of my day job, the film, the music, etc. Plus, it felt like a different story than the one we were trying to tell. And, honestly, I was exhausted from hitting our IFP deadline.

Television is a rapidly-shifting landscape. When "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood" premiered, PBS was the fourth of four networks. Fred insisted that "We have to remember to whom the airwaves belong, and we must put as great an emphasis on the nurturing of the human personality as we can."

I believe that those of us who are the producers and purveyors of television -- or video games or newspapers or any mass media -- I believe that we are the servants of this nation.

But the market place has exploded. There are hundreds of channels, thousand if you consider online video -- all of which are radically fragmented and commodified.

To be just a little jaded for one second, I witness corporate media machinations every day. And while, in my experience, intentions are generally the best, the bottom line always prevails -- even with strong advocacy. With Fred gone, the power of that advocacy is too.

Now, I'm not entirely sure that's what's at play here. As I've witnessed at work and as I understand it (and as I witnessed first-hand when I toured Iowa Public Television last month), broadcasters are increasingly digital.

The aegis will be on local stations to manage their own "Neighborhood" libraries, no easy task as you know from keeping all your files straight on your computer. It also means that there will no longer be a shared experience; what airs in Columbia, SC, will be different than what airs in New York City.

That said, it's the subtext of the once-weekly vs. daily transmission that's disconcerting. It suggests, however implicitly, that "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood" lacks daily urgency or import.

In these days of global unrest, economic insecurity, school shootings, and a news media more interested in Lynn Spears than Lynn Cheney, Mister Rogers' soothing, patient and sage insights are

Which is why South Carolina journalist and parent Brian Linder did not rest so easily when he heard the news. As the Pittsburgh-Post Gazette put it, "he didn't have to be told twice what to do with the mad that he felt, to paraphrase one of Fred Rogers' songs."

And so, Save Mister Rogers was born.

Brian's premise is simple, his intentions the absolute best:

We’re asking PBS to please reconsider their decision, and allow Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, with its timeless expressions of care for children, to remain a part of their syndicated Monday through Friday schedule.

Brian and I spoke real quickly yesterday. He's doing his best to helm this increasingly-visible project while retaining his day job (ours are remarkably similar: he's a freelance writer for IGN Movies) and parenting his newborn twins, Grace and Zoe. He sounds sweet, smart, and passionate. I appreciate his efforts, and look forward to speaking with him further and helping however I can.

I have every confidence that the "Neighborhood" will remain available, though, to Brian's point, it may be increasingly difficult and expensive to find and thereby increasingly limited in its reach.

The key, as always, is to remember that the airwaves belong to the public. And so the public must remain vigilant with its local PBS station in demanding that deep, simple, and essential programming like "Mister Rogers Neighborhood" remain free and unfettered on all media platforms.

For me, then, the best part of Brian's efforts, the show's future discoverability notwithstanding, is the reminder that, in this increasingly fragmented, emotionally disconnected world, we are all neighbors.

Ixnay On The Independent Film Week Debut

Rare is the day that I don't ask myself, 'What would Mister Rogers say?'

In fact, just now, I was staring out the window at the sunset doing just that. And as always, I heard his voice in my head.

"It's fine," he said. "Just keep trying."

The question?

What would Mister Rogers say when I told him our documentary, 'Mister Rogers & Me,' was not accepted to Independent Film Week?"

That's right. "Mister Rogers & Me" was not accepted to Independent Film Week. I got the email as I was walking through the turnstile at work. "Dear Benjamin," it started.

Thank you for your submission to the Documentary Work-in-Progress section of the 2008 Independent Film Week’ Project Forum. We regret to inform you that your project, “Mister Rogers & Me“, was not selected. We are only able to accommodate a maximum of 75 projects in this most competitive documentary section, which had approximately 500 submissions and numerous strong projects not selected this year.

Please be assured that all submitted projects were carefully reviewed by the Selection Committee. Final decisions were based on a range of criteria, including compliance with all application requirements, amount of financing in place or needed, available rights, artistic merit, and quality. That said, many projects "passed" these criteria, yet still could not be included due to space limitations.

I think I said, "Damn," before stepping into Times Square and cranking Billy Joel's "A Matter Of Trust" (of all things).

My first thought? 'Next!'

My second thought? Many.

First, I thought about early this afternoon. I was sitting in my office scheduling out the next few weeks: San Diego for ComicCon, Indianapolis for Brickyard 400, Meadowlands for Springsteen, Nantucket, Seattle, Nevis and on and on and on.

'I'm pretty blessed,' I thought then.

'Maybe this is some sort of message,' I thought now.

Second, I thought about how difficult the home stretch towards the Independent Film Week deadline was for Chris and me.
'Maybe this is some sort of message,' I thought.

Finally, I thought about how many times I said that, if all else failed, we'd load the movie into a van and drive it to every church basement and rec center that'd have us. Which still stands.

And then I thought, 'Back to work.'

We just have to keep trying.