Presweetened cereal-induced pop culture nirvana

I remember back when I was a kid in the early 1970s there was one day of the week that I highly anticipated: Cartoonday (read Saturday). I'd get up well before 6 a.m. and watch some snow and then the test pattern and then the National Anthem and then a morning filled with NBC cartoons. I wish I felt that level of anticipation today. Now I look forward to sleeping in 'til 8 a.m. or so on Saturdays.

There was one particular Cartoonday each year, usually in September, that I'd get up extra early to catch the debut of all the new cartoons. I wouldn't want to miss any of it, even if it was an oftentime lame live action show ("Land of the Lost" was a major positive exception in this genre). Occasionally during a commercial break or slow spot, I'd turn the channel dial to try to catch another network's offerings. If I was lucky I could catch a snowy picture with intermittant sound from ABC or CBS.

Breakfast was a bowl of Cap'n Crunch, Trix, or Lucky Charms, eaten conveniently and somewhat defiantly on the livingroom floor directly in front of the TV. (I already said I didn't want to miss a single minute). I clearly remember moments of presweetened cereal-induced blissful pop culture nirvana in front of that TV.

These days, I occasionally find strains of those feelings of rapturous anticipation while awaiting a new CD release by a favorite group or coming across something really cool on the Internet. These moments are fleeting, however, and cannot compare to those nostalgia-laced sugar-coated memories of Saturday mornings past. Sigh.