Sesame Street -- Brought to you this year by the numbers 4 and 0

Here's some news to make my generation feel the chill of age in our bones: "Sesame Street" celebrates its 40th anniversary this year. (Or as Count Von Count might say: "40! 40 anniversaries!" and then give a cheery "ah-ah-ah" to the answering flash of lightning and crash of thunder.)

What a remarkable feat. A daily series, aimed squarely at young children, that isn't about selling toys (although licensing the characters for all manner of kids' merchandise has become a deep well of financial support for the show's producer, then called the Children's Television Workshop, but now known as Sesame Workshop). Rather, this series, which is one of the longest running programs in history, set about putting the fundamentals of letters and numbers in front of a captivated audience that reclines before it with wide, searching eyes. Yet it has accomplished so much more.

I watched "Sesame Street," of course, as did most people my age, and those younger, too. It was on three times every weekday in my formative years, if I'm remembering right -- at 7 a.m., then at noon, then again at 4. It was colorful and tune-filled and funny, often times as funny or funnier than the old Warner Brothers cartoons I'd lose myself in on Saturday mornings. Especially those Muppets. The people were okay -- they were a mix of bright, friendly faces to be sure -- but none of them could hold a candle to Oscar and Big Bird, or Bert and Ernie, or Guy Smiley (the game show host character rarely seen now, but still fresh in my memory) and Grover.

(Cookie Monster was king, by the way. Sure, the others had their moments -- Grover's multiple turns as a frustrating waiter were all kinds of great -- but to me, the show wasn't complete until Cookie Monster went into a feeding frenzy.)

Of course, as the years have passed, I've visited "Sesame Street" a lot less frequently, but I've had the pleasure of coming across it now and then, whether on my own, or with nieces or nephews. What delights me even more is that the show is still fresh and innovative, not to mention popular, even today. (One word: Elmo.) The writing remains brisk and witty, a daily how-to on a lost art: writing simple yet smart, and occasionally even bold, comic sketches -- which are often parodies of TV shows that Moms and Dads like -- without stooping to entendre or drowning in treacle. It doesn't hurt that the foundation set by show creator Joan Ganz Cooney, along with collaborators like the late Jim Henson, was so carefully crafted to be stimulating and entertaining -- in other words, "Sesame Street" was intended to be good, and to be good for you.

That ideal comes through most clearly in an aspect of the show that I truly treasure: the way the show speaks to kids about the real world, and how even in the darkest times, there is still love and hope. The show has dealt with the finality of death (when the actor portraying shopkeeper Mr. Hooper suddenly passed away), the pain of divorce (played out honestly, but with a discretion, in a storyline involving a family of Muppet characters), and the fearful aftermath following unspeakable tragedy (as in the week of episodes that followed the events of September 11, 2001, where the neighborhood dealt with the arduous task of recovering from a disaster), and it has taught these lessons about coping with sadness and fear without being patronizing or dismissive. The 9/11 episodes were particularly affecting -- the writers of the show chose to have the neighborhood not attacked by terrorists, but instead suffer severe damage from a hurricane. Never mind the circumstances, though; the show dealt honestly with issues of shock and emotional trauma in children. When Big Bird asked one of the adults what might happen "if the hurricane comes back," it was easy to transpose his words on to the real world fears of kids (and adults) everywhere.

It's in these -- and so many other episodes -- that the value of this show shines most clearly. In that fictional New York City neighborhood, there are people (and monsters) of all colors and creeds who not only survive, but thrive, because they stand together, in good times and bad. This is a message that bears repeating, and a credo that every street in the world should aim to honor, maybe now more than ever.

As for the show itself, "Sesame Street" remains a televised treasure, a beacon of delight and joy for my generation and the next (and the next), and hopefully, for many more generations to come.