My Life as a Furry Red Monster - Kevin Clash [22]
As the builder of Big Bird, Snuffy, and other Muppets, Kermit was closely connected to Sesame Street and Jim Henson. (Incidentally, Kermit Love had nothing to do with the name for Kermit the Frog, who was purely Henson’s creation. Like his resemblance to Santa, Love’s given name was just another appealing quirk that made him so special.) That year, Jim, Frank Oz, Jerry Nelson, Dave Goelz, Richard Hunt, and Steve Whitmire—the core Muppeteers—were performing on the Muppet Movie float to promote the launch of the film, and many of the Sesame Street characters were literally in need of warm bodies, or hands, actually. I would be a sort of Muppet temp on the Sesame float, filling in where needed. My parents didn’t hesitate to let me work the parade.
My parents drove me to the train station the evening before Thanksgiving, and as I got out of the car, they wished me good luck. “We’ll be watching you on TV, Kevin,” Mom said. “Be safe, son,” Dad added. “Enjoy this. And remember it for the rest of your days.”
I WAS SO wired on the train up to New York that I couldn’t relax or focus on anything. I was overwhelmed by one thought, and one thought only: Here I was, a kid from Baltimore, on my way to the big city to step inside a world that had previously existed only in my imagination. Better than that, I was about to spend the night in that world because Kermit had arranged for me to crash at his workshop on Great Jones Street! Cheaper than a hotel, and loads more fun.
I took a cab from Penn Station to the workshop. Kermit had a pull-out futon in the office area, and I dutifully got ready for bed, trying to avoid the temptation to poke around. Even though I’d been warned to get some rest in preparation for a long morning that would start early, I simply had too much adrenaline and too much on my mind. I’m going to be in the Macy’s parade tomorrow…me! In the Macy’s parade. I couldn’t sleep and I abandoned the futon, giving in to my urge to check things out.
I’d seen his workshop before, but I hadn’t seen the puppet-making area, and now I was standing in it. Though Big Bird and Snuffleupagus sprang from Jim Henson’s imagination, Kermit Love and his builders actually constructed these larger-than-life creatures, and here were the ingredients that went into his creations. I had never seen so much foam in my life. What captured my imagination the most were the wings waiting to be feathered, and Snuffy, who was draped over the roof’s rafters and gazing down at me like a giant guardian angel—albeit a funny-looking one.
I wandered around some more and drank it all in, then went to sit at one of the worktables at the front of his studio, and dreamed of the day I could design my own workshop. I was mentally taking notes of everything I’d seen, and was preparing my list of must-haves. I was in my element. I was home…
The phone rang and I jumped like a puppet myself. Without thinking whether it was for me or not, I answered it.
“Kevin? It’s Kermit, just making sure you got in okay. You need to get some sleep now. We have a big day tomorrow.” It was as if he’d known I’d been in a dreamy state, and now he was calling me back down to earth. I promised to hit the sack, and, somehow, I managed to fall asleep.
By six the next morning I was awake and riding in another cab, this time heading toward Seventy-ninth Street and Central Park West, where the parade would kick off. Nothing and no one could have prepared me for what I saw once I got close to the parade’s starting point. Rows and rows of tour buses belched out bleary-eyed tuba players, drummers, baton twirlers, flag girls, and cheerleaders. For a few blocks, it seemed that every pedestrian was a member of a marching band.
I got dropped off a few blocks from where the Sesame Street float was stationed. I was a little early so I wandered