Writing the Ride: Candace Carrabus Rice, Author

No, Spongebob isn’t dead, but a large portion of our TV channels went bye bye this week taking Nickelodeon and Spongebob and his gang right along with them.

Yes, like many Americans, we’re tightening our belts. And one place in the budget that was easy to cut was cable. We went down to the minimum available programming. DH gave up a number of news channels plus HBO, I lost Veria among others, and daughter lost SpongeBob. This is not a big sacrifice for what it saves us every month.

DH blurted the news to daughter at supper with no preamble, nothing to soften to blow. He simply didn’t think it would be that big a deal. But as soon as he said we’d see a big difference when we turned on the TV, her face clouded over and she said, “Spongebob?”

“He’s gone, baby,” I said. Just like I’d told her when my old horse died a few years ago. And how I’d said it when when one of our cats died. And when my mother died a year and half ago and more recently when my stepdad passed. And in the same week, right before Christmas, when her own little dog was killed. Yeah, the kid’s sustained some losses of late. We all have.

She started to cry. No, it was a wail. “Not Spongebob!” Dinner forgotten, the keening and gnashing of teeth went on.

“Well, maybe not, we don’t know for sure,” my husband backpeddled.

I knew for sure. But I comforted her as best I could. “I love Spongebob,” she cried over and over. While I went out to feed the horses, and daughter got ready to take a shower, DH snuck in to the computer and brought up Nick.com to see if they had Spongebob videos online.

The grieving continued through the showering and drying and getting on of PJs and brushing of teeth. Then, reasoning kicked in. “Can’t we just have Nickelodeon?” she pleaded. We attempted to explain the network “packages.” This did not satisfy her.

But by the time I’d returned from letting the horses out, she was sitting on her daddy’s lap at the computer, tears drying. There on the monitor was Spongebob’s latest episode.

Whew. Life can go on.

It was more grief then she’d showed for anyone or anything before. Perhaps an accumulation of it all. I couldn’t help wondering what it meant. I like Spongebob. I know people either hate him or love him. I see him as an optimistic, loyal, and cheerful character. He works hard and for the most part, lives in the moment. He makes mistakes and gets carried away sometimes, and says he’s sorry when he hurts someone else. A good example, if not exactly a role model. I like his family of choice, too. His goofy friend Patrick, who Spongebob never judges, his crabby neighbor and co-worker, Squidward, who Spongebob is determined to cheer up, and his sometimes insane boss, Mr. Crabs, for whom Spongebob would work for free because he loves his work so much.

Hey, who hasn’t had a goofy friend we loved in spite of their goofiness, or a crabby neighbor with a hidden heart of gold, or a sometimes insane boss who would die if we ever quit?

No wonder she loves the show.

I’m glad we’ve cut back on the channels we can watch. Sometimes too much choice is just too much choice. We will be better off watching less and facing each other more–talking and playing games, going outside to ride our bikes.

But I’m also glad she’ll be able to catch Spongebob Squarepants at her convenience on the computer, ’cause I’ll be watching, too.