I could make the Friendly Giant weep

When I was a young boy in Pembroke, we only had one TV in our house and it was a black and white set my parents acquired from a relative at a steep discount.

Like most of my friends, I watched a couple of shows intended for the younger crowd. The Flintstones were superficially funny but kinda weird, Fred had normal eyeballs but Wilma just had small dots. And Barney had hollow circles. Why was that? Were they drawn by separate artists with no guidelines on eyeball expressions?

The Thunderbirds were also an interesting show for rocket-minded youngsters. Me, I could not understand who funded Internal Rescue, I mean launching rockets on a daily basis to prevent minor incidents is not a sustainable business. Can you imagine the cost of running this operation? Lady Penelope was a high-maintenance chick. It could not be a government operation, the IR island would have been staffed with thousands of government workers, officials, union representatives. Didn’t make sense.

The most freaking show however was The Friendly Giant. For those of you south of the border, this Canadian production was about an oversize castle owner who entertained himself with a giraffe and a rooster. Whenever I saw the show opening where the castle gate would open, I would hide behind the sofa afraid that the Friendly Giant would catch me and lure me into his cardboard mansion.

You may ask, Mike why were you afraid of the most gentle person on Canadian television? He was a beloved icon, like Mr. Rogers, he could not hurt anyone, dude you must have serious issues ya know?

Here was my problem with the Giant: he was too good, he had to have a hidden agenda. I mean, the guy played music with his friends, told stories and inquired about their well-being. Problem is, he didn’t charge anything for his services! He did not expect anything in return! Can you believe this? Who does that? How does he pay the heating bill? What about property taxes, he was properly the most taxed citizen in the whole country. I was sure this was a whole scam, when the show ended and the gate would close, I could picture the Giant sending a bill to the giraffe. Nothing can be free, folks. Goodwill is a fantasy.

There is one thing however about this show that I found fascinating. The rooster was living in a bag nailed to the wall. That’s interesting, I thought. I wonder if people can be coerced into working into impossibly tight working environment with no daylight and tepid odors. That would be a fascinating idea, imagine the total cost of ownership of an employee if we can reduce his desk to 10 square feet.

So the Friendly Giant motivated me to pursue a career where I could control my castle and make sure we never run out of money. No music in this castle though, we’ll do hard stuff. Plenty of roosters, high-marging business, fully scalable. Playing flute does not generate revenues.

Why are you looking at me like that?