Teletubbie Confessions
My sister, Jane, and her children recently took exception to my comment that the Wiggles contained “homosexual overtones.” Okay, perhaps I went a little overboard. I really meant to say “Star Trek overtones.” I dare you to look at those primary colors and tell me you don’t see a bunch of guys pretending to be Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and the security officer of the week.
Not merely satisfied with simple chastisement, my sister went and dug up a little blackmail material. She didn’t say much except to hand me a photograph and give me her infamous “raised eyebrow” look. What did she want from me? Money? Power? Free tickets to “Wiggles on Ice”?
Whatever it was, I wasn’t about to let her keep the upper hand. I cannot tolerate it when someone is holding dirt over me, especially family. I am therefore taking the initiative away from her by coming clean with my public.
The picture at right is not a clever fake — it is, unfortunately, all too real. Yes, my friends, I am Tinky-Winky.
I’m ready for my tearful confession on Oprah.
Now before you take away my Boy Scout card and my complimentary key to the members-only lounge at Bass Pro Shops, let me state a few real facts about this case.
First, and most importantly, I am not gay. I don’t care what Jerry Falwell said or how many floppy bibles he waved in the air while saying it. Sure, I wore purple velour, had a silver tummy, talked in an incomprehensible lisp, jumped up and down spasmodically at the sight of birds or blue flowers, and had a floppy triangle on my head. These facts did not automatically make me George Michael’s teddy bear. I was as straight as… well, as straight as that goofy thing on top of Dipsy’s head.
And what about Dipsy’s head, anyway? Seems if Falwell would be going after anyone, it would be the guy with the politically-incorrect headgear, not me and my reverse coat-hanger look. Besides, Dipsy’s tastes were highly questionable, if you ask me. I mean, he listened to the Bee-Gee’s, for Pete’s sake. Now, I’m not saying that Dipsy’s gay or anything, but I’ll bet you a stack of TubbieToast that if we both walked into a gay bar, I’d be the one buying my own drinks. I’m just saying.
Oh, and for the record, my Magic Bag was not a purse — it was a briefcase. It was the only way to keep my laptop away from Po, who was always stealing it to play Minesweeper.
Finally, that whole incident involving the Tubbie Custard was just a misunderstanding. Yes, I will freely admit to being under the influence of Tubbie Custard at the season two wrap party (when I ran into Melissa Gilbert’s Jaguar — she was quite decent about the whole thing). It was a long day of filming a kitchen scene where we had to make — you guessed it — custard, and Laa-Laa kept flubbing her lines and making us do retake after retake. I mean, come on, how freakin’ hard can it be to say, “Eh-Oh???” And with each retake, I had to take a bite of custard. I mean, you really can’t fake eating custard — those kids out there watch you like a freaking agent, man, and fake custard eating just won’t fly with them.
That subsequent visit to the Betty Ford Clinic was not custard-related. I got whiplash in the accident and had some trouble with the pain medication, okay? You try getting in a car wreck with a television antenna attached to your head and let’s see how you come out, okay?
Oh, one other thing. If you’ll look carefully, you’ll see the words Joe ‘Tiberius’ Goodwin on my tummy screen. That was a bit of an inside joke with the boys, as I’m well known for being a huge fan of gladiator movies.
Hey, what’s with the look? Lots of straight guys like gladiator movies. They’re very manly. You know, in a Charleton Heston way. Yeah.
As you know, the whole Teletubbie gig came to a crashing halt four years ago. It seems the producers figured out that our primary audience only lasted three years before they started hitting the hard stuff — you know, Nickelodeon and MTV. So they hit upon the idea of rerunning our shows on a four year cycle and kicking us completely out of the loop. They didn’t even honor our pension agreement. All I got was the lousy Tubbie Toaster.
I’m not sure where the rest of the gang is today. Last time I heard from Dipsy, he was doing some sort of cabaret show in Alice Springs, Australia. Laa-Laa went into an internship with some anime producer in Okinawa, but I have no idea if she stayed with them. Rumor has it that Po is working customer service for Dell; maybe she’s in India. Dunno, man.
So that’s my sordid tale. Sorry, Jane, but you’ll have to do better than this. Maybe I shouldn’t have spouted off at the Wiggles like that — I’ll plead professional jealousy. But nobody should act that happy all the time without at least some chemical assistance, know what I mean?
Hmm… wonder if they know where I could score some good custard.
You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
I find it a bit scary that you remember all their names, especially since Matt was already out of their target age range when the show first made it’s appearance. I can still name more Pokemon than I care to admit, not to mention the entire cast of Thomas the Tank Engine, but before reading this post I’d have been lucky to name even one of these four.
(Of course, your memory for trivia is why you always beat me at those types of games, so I shouldn’t be surprised.)
Hey, you knock back a few cold ones with a guy wearing brightly-colored velour and you’ll remember his name for life.
Well done, oh Tinketh-Winketh! You took it like a man! (insert rim shot here) So, do you still have that costume in storage? We should have been pimping you out for parties years ago! And I don’t just mean children’s parties…. (Shame, shame - did you help to shape the foul mind of your once innocent, good baby sister? Without a doubt!) Haha! You’re a good sport, Joe.
Po was, is and will always be my favorite. I espcially liked it when he disarmed the Emporer’s nepheu’s guard back in ‘73 and taught Quia Chane Cane all those great lessons. Just a little sad that he was reduced to making “opium custard” for you. Why else would Laa-Laa keep throwing her (it’s is more appropriate) lines? That’s right. To get more opium custard. I’m surprised you never noticed all the colors and your own rabid appitite for custard.
I have to say that I, like Stacey, am amazed you even remember their names. Of course the “Tubbies” were post Anthony, though I did get my brief share with my young nephews. To be honest, I found it to be good entertainment for very young children. I didn’t even relate it to any homosexual overtones until everyone else started talking about it. I would say the only thing about the show that creeped me out was that freakin’ sun baby. I mean, what’s up with that? Did he/she even have a name? Granted, I never watched a whole show, so I don’t know if he/she (it) had a purpose. The only thing I know is that baby sure gets a kick out of those teletubbies. Maybe someone can enlighten me on baby sol’s purpose in life.
By the way, Joe, you look great in purple. I guess you were shorted in the large diameter eyes department. Hence the glasses. Does Dipsy say the facial hair tickles him?
Do you get cable with that head or just broadcast?
Okay…enough with the little jokes. So what is with the baby?
The baby in the sun was their dealer, you may recall. At one point in the show, the windmills spin, and LSD dust sprays into the sky causing the Teletubbies to run around in an uncontrollable frenzy, ending in all of them giggling and lying on the ground, gazing blankly at the sky until one of their tummies became a halluncinagenic television screen on which they would watch a scene of British preschoolers not once, but annoyingly twice, after which they would retire with the munchies to have Tubbie Toast and clean up the remaining narcotic evidence with the Nu-Nu. Really all that were missing were Shaggy and Scoob.
Come to think of it, Jane, I do recall something to that effect, though I really love your version of it. Before your post, I had Googled the Tubbies just to get a little more info. I remember running across a post of someone asking why they repeat, as you say annoyingly, everything twice with the preschoolers. Someone rattled off something about it being needed because of the way young viewers processed information, or some psychobabble like that. After your description of their “hookup” with Sun Baby’s drug emporium, I tend to believe the repeating preschooler flicks were a result of a bad acid trip. Then again, the television was in his tummy. Maybe it’s IBS. (Irritable Broadcasting Syndrome)
Maybe Baby can score them some Zelnorm.
Maybe it was marijuana. As Joe’s recent post explains, use of marijuana causes memory loss; therefore, the 4 year-olds need to see the information twice. Lesson learned: keep the pot away from the 4 year-olds! Dude.
[…] Yes, it’s my brother Joe at his second job. A Teletubbie. If you can’t read the caption on his tummy, it says “Joe Tiberius Goodwin.” A reference to his/my sci-fi roots. He is obviously the oldest of the Teletubbies, and the hairiest. By the way, Joe has a very humourous post on the Teletubbies over at POOTV, if you wish to check it out. […]