NPC in History: Something for the kids

The National Press Club is usually a pretty sober-sided place when it comes to programs: full of policy, politics and saving-the-world stuff. But, occasionally there are Luncheons that bring out the younger set. After all, in recent years children’s entertainment has become a big issue. The Club can attract some of the big names because they think they are going to be talking to adult journalists about issues. Sometimes, they are surprised at who’s in the audience.

Take, for example, Sheryl Leach, the creator of "Barney the Dinosaur", PBS’s phenom for preschoolers, who spoke in November 1993 about children’s television. The room was full of toddlers and kindergartners, who had been brought by their parents to see the huge purple and green dinosaur that embodied everything good and sweet. The kids were not paying a whole lot of attention to Leach as they cried and talked and crayoned and everything else kids that age do when parents are trying to distract them, but when Barney himself emerged from the side door of the ballroom, leapt up on the dais and started dancing, jumping and twisting around, the kids went bonkers. You can see it all here.

In January 1992, the speaker was Kevin Eastman, the co-creator of the "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles", the prodigious hit among pre-teens and teenagers. For the uninitiated, they were teenage boys who had mutated into turtles and were named for Renaissance artists: Michelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo and Raphael. With the aid of their ninja master, a rat named Splinter, they fought the evil Shredder with ninja weapons from their lair in city sewers. Eastman recounted how he and his buddy Peter Laird, aspiring cartoonists, dreamed up this far-fetched comic-book concept while he was working as a lobster cooker. To their utter amazement, the Turtles took off into the stratosphere making both artists fortunes.

The room, of course, was filled with kids. About 35 minutes into the Luncheon speech, just as Eastman was offering advice to the young people about how to succeed, Club Chef Curtis Eargle came up on the dais with a pizza box and asked who ordered it. Out from the side entrance popped Raphael – you could tell by the red headband.

“Cowabunga,” Raphael yelled.

“Pay the man, Dude,” Raphael said to Eastman, “And don’t stiff him on the tip, like you did the last time.”

And with that, Raphael exited with pizza, high-fiving a young boy on the way out.

Much calmer was the appearance of Fred Rogers from PBS’ "Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood" in April 1990. He was there to promote children’s television and highlighted his testimony to a congressional committee about the value of an alternative to the violence on television in finding ways to resolve conflict. About 37 minutes into the program, Rogers pulled King Friday, one of his premier puppets, out from under the table and instructed the audience – adults and children alike – to greet him with “How do you do, King Friday. How do you do, King Friday.” Next came the shy Daniel Tiger, followed by X the Owl.

Rogers related a story about how on a recent trip to the Soviet Union, a group of Americans and Soviets were meeting very stiffly until the puppets came out. Russians love puppets, he said, and they all wanted to touch Daniel Tiger. When X the Owl came out, his beak had been broken in transit. One of the Russians took the owl and disappeared. When he came back, the beak was perfectly mended. Watch it here.

Club President Donna Leinwand of USA Today had a few things to learn about Grover, the blue Muppet from PBS’s "Sesame Street", when he appeared with Gary Knell, executive director of The Sesame Workshop in December 2009. Knell was invited to talk about the challenges of using new and ever-changing media to keep "Sesame Street" in step with today’s young children.

“Today’s talk is going to be brought to you by the letter N, as in National Press Club, and the number six, which are six lessons that I would like to discuss with you today,” Knell said in his opening.

But then Grover took over.

“Dresses? Who wants dresses? I got dresses down here. If anybody wants some dresses," Grover said.

The schtick went on for a while as Grover offered to show his sundresses, “a fetching little silk number with an empire waist,” or “a spicy little cocktail dress with a provocative hemline.”

“Grover,” Knell said. “What makes you think the people here want to hear about any of this?”

To which Grover replied, “Well, isn’t this the National Dress Club?”

In the question-and-answer period, Grover again took center stage, and Grover betrayed his irritation at that upstart Muppet, Elmo.

“So Bert and Ernie were the original breakout stars. And now it’s been Elmo, Elmo, Elmo for years,” Leinwand said. To which Grover shot back. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

Near the end, Leinwand made the unpardonable sin. She mistakenly referred to Grover as Elmo. Grover looked at her and said, “You know, I think that is all the questions I have time for today. Goodbye.” He popped down under the table and never came back.

This is another in a series provided by Club historian Gil Klein. Dig down anywhere in the Club’s 110-year history, and you will find some kind of significant event in the history of the world, the nation, Washington, journalism and the Club itself. Many of these events were caught in illustrations that tell the stories.