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theprawncracker
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Hey gang, Prawnie here. As you all know, it's May 16th. And as you all should know, today marks the seventeeth May 16th since Jim Henson's untimely passing from this Earth. SO! I was thinking about Jim ALL day at school, and what I could do to show how much I really love him, so I wrote this. I used one of my all-time favorite Kermit songs, "Magic Garden" for the title and even twisted it into the plot. If you haven't heard the song, and would like to, just drop me a PM with your e-mail address and I'd be more than happy to send it to you. I hope you enjoy my little tribute to the greatest man that ever lived, my hero, my mentor, my idol, Jim Henson...
---------------
Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna watch this garden grow
The angel stared down at his descending friend from his perch atop a massive cloud. The angel laughed a sigh of happiness. "Every May sixteenth the same ordeal," the angel rolled his eyes. "When’s he gonna learn to let go?"
"Never." Another angel walked up the cloud. "Same time we will," the second angel said. "Jim's gotta watch his garden grow."
"Oh, please," the first angel shrugged off the second.. "I’ve let go! It’s great up here!"
"It is. But you can’t tell me you don’t miss them." The second angel put his hand on the first angel’s shoulder.
"Nope. Not in the least," the first angel said. "If there’s one thing Richard Hunt does not miss, it’s those goof balls."
"I don’t believe that for a second, and neither do you," the second angel told Richard.
"Eh, you don’t know anything Jerry," Richard smirked.
"I know that not a day goes by that you don’t miss them," Jerry Juhl said.
Richard turned to face Jerry. "Ya know what Jerry... You know something."
"Am I supposed to know what or something? I’m confused," Jerry said.
Richard rolled his eyes. "C’mon, let’s go pick up Marilyn Monroe and Mary Queen of Scots for dinner, shall we?"
"I’d be delighted, at least until Jim gets back, the girls always leave once he starts doing Swedish Chef impressions..."
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
And a piece of fertile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Jim Henson’s wings guided him to a window of a house. He knew right where to land, and right where to look to get his mission accomplished. He perched himself carefully and looked through the glass.
Inside the house was a television. The television was on. On the television was a DVD player. Inside the DVD player was a DVD. On the television screen there was a show. On the show there was a Fraggle. That Fraggle was in a rock. The show was Fraggle Rock. The DVD was Fraggle Rock Season 2 Disc 1. Also inside the house was a chair. In the chair was a man.
Jerry Nelson.
Jerry Nelson was sleeping like a log sawing logs in his arm chair while Fraggle Rock continued to play on his television. Jim smiled at his old friend.
Jerry snored loudly while Boober Fraggle brought his Fraggle friends into his dream on the television.
Jim thought of how he brought all of his friends into his dreams with him, how he set out to live these huge, outrageous fantasies, and how they always tagged along, no matter what the stakes.
Which reminded Jim, he had to hurry if he wanted to get back in time to show Jerry, Richard and their dates his Swedish Chef voice before they finished their steaks.
Jim smiled again at Jerry’s sleeping body. His face grew serious for a moment as he thought of something, then grinned as it came to him. Jim phased through the wall of Jerry’s house and floated over to Jerry’s chair.
Jim smirked, and perched himself over Jerry’s chair. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath.
"I’M GONNA THUMP ME A FWWWWAGGLE!" Jim shouted, flying out of the house.
Jerry awoke in a shot screaming "GOOOOOORG! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"
Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm them from below
‘Til the rain comes tumblin’ down
Jim landed right in front of a table where two men sat sipping coffee and sharing bagels. Jim slid into the booth seat next to the man with longer, light brown hair, and a goatee of the same color. Across from him sat a balding man with glasses and a grin across his face.
"I’m just glad it’s finally coming to, ya know?" goatee man said.
Grinning man sipped his coffee. "It’s about time," he said. "How long has it been?"
"Two years?" goatee man asked. "Maybe one and a half."
"No, it’s gotta be two," replied grinning man.
"Well, when was the buy out?" goatee man asked. "‘04 or ‘05?"
"I don’t remember anything past breakfast," grinning man said.
"It was ‘05, I think."
"Couldn’t be!" grinning man said. "We did Oz in ‘05!"
Goatee man bit off a bit of his bagel. "Nah, we musta done Oz in ‘04."
Jim shook his head. He swiped a pen out of Steve Whitmire’s pocket, and scribbled something on a napkin. He slid it next to Steve’s plate, and pocketed the pen for himself.
"What’s that?" Dave Goelz asked, taking the paper and examining it. "You had this time line the entire time?"
Steve grabbed the napkin from Dave. "No, of course not! This isn’t mine!"
"Then whose is it?" Dave asked.
"Whose napkin is it anyway?" Steve smirked.
Dave pulled off his glasses and rubbed his forehead. "At least your keeping his spirit alive."
"That’s what I do," Steve said. "Every May sixteenth."
"Of course." Dave nodded. "But did you have to wear the same suit you wore to his memorial?"
Steve rubbed the sleeve of his bright green suit across his chest. "Of course! If this doesn’t define his spirit, I don’t know what does!"
Dave laughed. "You’ve certainly got a point there."
"Besides," Steve said. "It makes me look like Kermit. I like to get in touch with my characters."
"Which is why you eat so much, I assume? Mister Rizzo," Dave replied.
"No, just Kermit," Steve said. "He’s... well, he’s the hardest."
"And you’re doing a great job," Jim whispered straight into Steve’s ear, then flying off again.
Steve looked around. "Did- did you hear something?"
Dave sipped his coffee. "No, why?"
"I could’ve sworn I heard-" Steve shook his head. "Nah, it’s not possible."
Dave shrugged. "Nothing was impossible for Jim." Dave winked.
Steve lifted his coffee mug. "To Jim," he said.
Dave did the same with his mug. "To Jim."
Pullin’ weeds and pickin’ stones
Man is made of dreams and bones
Feel the need to grow my own
‘Cause the time is close at hand
Jim watched as Kevin Clash placed the red monster puppet on his hand. He walked up onto the green screen and began his art of "doll wiggling".
Elmo bounced around in would become "Elmo’s World", Kevin’s face brimming with happiness (and sweat), as the monster giggled. The cameras rolled, and Jim floated, watching Elmo, and laughing along with Kevin and most of the crew.
The cameraman called cut, and they wrapped the scene. Marty Robinson came over and placed his arm around Kevin as he slipped Elmo off his arm. "Great scene, Kevin," Marty said.
"Thanks, Marty," Kevin said happily. "I think it could’ve been... different."
"How do you mean?" Marty asked.
Kevin placed Elmo back on the table with other puppets. "I dunno," Kevin said. "I just don’t think Jim would like it."
"What makes you say that?" Marty asked.
Kevin shrugged. "It’s May sixteenth... I miss him."
Marty smiled. "We all do."
"Yeah, I know," Kevin said. "But I just don’t feel that I’m really... living Jim’s dream, ya know?"
By this time, Jim was floating behind Kevin. "Whatever the case may be," Jim whispered into his ear. "You’ve made my dream live on, Kevin. Thank you." Jim flew off again, leaving Kevin smiling broadly.
"Well, you look happier," Marty said.
"I am happier." The two of them began to walk off the set together. "Thanks, Jim." Kevin whispered to his mentor.
Grain full grain, sun and rain
Find my way in nature’s chain
Tune my body and my brain
To the music of the land
Brian Henson sat down with a script in his hands. "The Power of the Dark Crystal," he read aloud.
Jim sat perched behind Brain’s armchair, reading the script over his head as Brian read it too. Brian fumbled about his person, looking for a pen to make a note on the script.
Jim reached into his holy pocket and dropped it in Brain’s lap. Brian picked it up, and looked around the room. He shrugged and made his marks on the script.
Brain and Jim continued reading the script, as Brian began to scratch something off. Jim cleared his throat. "I like that part," he whispered.
Brian’s head shot up and looked around again. "Who said that?"
Jim bit his lip, he was in a sticky situation now. "Uh... the mighty Skeksis!" Jim declared.
"Or just some kid playing a prank," Brian said, standing up from his chair. He looked behind the armchair, and saw nothing. "Alright, kids, where are you?"
Jim’s face twisted up, as he tried to hold back the laughter. He finally let it out, and flew out of the room.
Brian looked around once more. Then shook his head, and sat back down with his script. "Just like dad, still playing pranks from up there."
Plant your rows, straight and long
Tempur them with prayer and song
Mother Earth will make you strong
If you give her love and care
Jim’s final stop edged closer. He watched Frank Oz on his porch, looking out at the night sky, and went to float next to him.
"Once a year," Frank said to himself. "I always get this way, once a year."
Jim smiled, good to know he was still missed, he thought to himself.
"I suppose that’s Jim’s fault, really," Frank said. "Why’d he have to leave us?"
Jim frowned. Maybe missed wasn’t the word he was looking for.
"But... I guess... I guess I left them too... didn’t I?" Frank asked whoever was listening.
Jim shook his head. He knew that Frank had his own life and career dreams to pursue.
"I wonder... I wonder what Jim would think... if he saw me now," Frank said, with tears welling up in his eyes.
"He would think that he was lucky to know you, Frank, and lucky to have you as a friend."
The voice echoed in Frank’s ears. He didn’t budge. "I love you Jim... and I miss you."
Maybe missed was the right word. "I love you too, Frank, and I certainly do miss you."
Frank looked up at the stars in the sky and began to hum a song.
"But I don’t miss that karate chop of yours," Jim said quickly, before flying home.
Frank laughed, and let the tears roll down his cheeks. "Happy May sixteenth, Jim!"
Old crow watchin’ hungrily
From his perch in yonder tree
In my garden, I’m as free
As that feathered thief up there
Jim Henson sat on his cloud happily. Everyone seemed to be getting along okay without him. They all seemed happy.
His garden had grown to an uncountable size. People from all walks of the earth were working on his projects, his characters, his stories, each of them in his garden.
When he could, he watered them, when he could he would talk to them, but he always had time to watch them grow.
Each plant held the same special place in his heart, and he hoped he knew that. His garden was his favorite thing in this or any world, and nothing would ever change that.
Jerry Juhl floated next to Jim’s cloud. "Hey, Jim?" Jerry asked.
"Yes?" Jim asked.
"Mary Queen of Scots is dying to hear your Swedish Chef voice!" Jerry said.
"She’s already dead," Jim replied blankly.
Jerry grinned. "Just come on, knuckle head!"
Jim smiled. "Okay."
Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna watch this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
And a piece of fertile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm them from below
‘Til the rain comes tumblin’ down
...’Til the rain comes tumblin’ down...
Thank you Jim Henson.
---------------
Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna watch this garden grow
The angel stared down at his descending friend from his perch atop a massive cloud. The angel laughed a sigh of happiness. "Every May sixteenth the same ordeal," the angel rolled his eyes. "When’s he gonna learn to let go?"
"Never." Another angel walked up the cloud. "Same time we will," the second angel said. "Jim's gotta watch his garden grow."
"Oh, please," the first angel shrugged off the second.. "I’ve let go! It’s great up here!"
"It is. But you can’t tell me you don’t miss them." The second angel put his hand on the first angel’s shoulder.
"Nope. Not in the least," the first angel said. "If there’s one thing Richard Hunt does not miss, it’s those goof balls."
"I don’t believe that for a second, and neither do you," the second angel told Richard.
"Eh, you don’t know anything Jerry," Richard smirked.
"I know that not a day goes by that you don’t miss them," Jerry Juhl said.
Richard turned to face Jerry. "Ya know what Jerry... You know something."
"Am I supposed to know what or something? I’m confused," Jerry said.
Richard rolled his eyes. "C’mon, let’s go pick up Marilyn Monroe and Mary Queen of Scots for dinner, shall we?"
"I’d be delighted, at least until Jim gets back, the girls always leave once he starts doing Swedish Chef impressions..."
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
And a piece of fertile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Jim Henson’s wings guided him to a window of a house. He knew right where to land, and right where to look to get his mission accomplished. He perched himself carefully and looked through the glass.
Inside the house was a television. The television was on. On the television was a DVD player. Inside the DVD player was a DVD. On the television screen there was a show. On the show there was a Fraggle. That Fraggle was in a rock. The show was Fraggle Rock. The DVD was Fraggle Rock Season 2 Disc 1. Also inside the house was a chair. In the chair was a man.
Jerry Nelson.
Jerry Nelson was sleeping like a log sawing logs in his arm chair while Fraggle Rock continued to play on his television. Jim smiled at his old friend.
Jerry snored loudly while Boober Fraggle brought his Fraggle friends into his dream on the television.
Jim thought of how he brought all of his friends into his dreams with him, how he set out to live these huge, outrageous fantasies, and how they always tagged along, no matter what the stakes.
Which reminded Jim, he had to hurry if he wanted to get back in time to show Jerry, Richard and their dates his Swedish Chef voice before they finished their steaks.
Jim smiled again at Jerry’s sleeping body. His face grew serious for a moment as he thought of something, then grinned as it came to him. Jim phased through the wall of Jerry’s house and floated over to Jerry’s chair.
Jim smirked, and perched himself over Jerry’s chair. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath.
"I’M GONNA THUMP ME A FWWWWAGGLE!" Jim shouted, flying out of the house.
Jerry awoke in a shot screaming "GOOOOOORG! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!"
Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm them from below
‘Til the rain comes tumblin’ down
Jim landed right in front of a table where two men sat sipping coffee and sharing bagels. Jim slid into the booth seat next to the man with longer, light brown hair, and a goatee of the same color. Across from him sat a balding man with glasses and a grin across his face.
"I’m just glad it’s finally coming to, ya know?" goatee man said.
Grinning man sipped his coffee. "It’s about time," he said. "How long has it been?"
"Two years?" goatee man asked. "Maybe one and a half."
"No, it’s gotta be two," replied grinning man.
"Well, when was the buy out?" goatee man asked. "‘04 or ‘05?"
"I don’t remember anything past breakfast," grinning man said.
"It was ‘05, I think."
"Couldn’t be!" grinning man said. "We did Oz in ‘05!"
Goatee man bit off a bit of his bagel. "Nah, we musta done Oz in ‘04."
Jim shook his head. He swiped a pen out of Steve Whitmire’s pocket, and scribbled something on a napkin. He slid it next to Steve’s plate, and pocketed the pen for himself.
"What’s that?" Dave Goelz asked, taking the paper and examining it. "You had this time line the entire time?"
Steve grabbed the napkin from Dave. "No, of course not! This isn’t mine!"
"Then whose is it?" Dave asked.
"Whose napkin is it anyway?" Steve smirked.
Dave pulled off his glasses and rubbed his forehead. "At least your keeping his spirit alive."
"That’s what I do," Steve said. "Every May sixteenth."
"Of course." Dave nodded. "But did you have to wear the same suit you wore to his memorial?"
Steve rubbed the sleeve of his bright green suit across his chest. "Of course! If this doesn’t define his spirit, I don’t know what does!"
Dave laughed. "You’ve certainly got a point there."
"Besides," Steve said. "It makes me look like Kermit. I like to get in touch with my characters."
"Which is why you eat so much, I assume? Mister Rizzo," Dave replied.
"No, just Kermit," Steve said. "He’s... well, he’s the hardest."
"And you’re doing a great job," Jim whispered straight into Steve’s ear, then flying off again.
Steve looked around. "Did- did you hear something?"
Dave sipped his coffee. "No, why?"
"I could’ve sworn I heard-" Steve shook his head. "Nah, it’s not possible."
Dave shrugged. "Nothing was impossible for Jim." Dave winked.
Steve lifted his coffee mug. "To Jim," he said.
Dave did the same with his mug. "To Jim."
Pullin’ weeds and pickin’ stones
Man is made of dreams and bones
Feel the need to grow my own
‘Cause the time is close at hand
Jim watched as Kevin Clash placed the red monster puppet on his hand. He walked up onto the green screen and began his art of "doll wiggling".
Elmo bounced around in would become "Elmo’s World", Kevin’s face brimming with happiness (and sweat), as the monster giggled. The cameras rolled, and Jim floated, watching Elmo, and laughing along with Kevin and most of the crew.
The cameraman called cut, and they wrapped the scene. Marty Robinson came over and placed his arm around Kevin as he slipped Elmo off his arm. "Great scene, Kevin," Marty said.
"Thanks, Marty," Kevin said happily. "I think it could’ve been... different."
"How do you mean?" Marty asked.
Kevin placed Elmo back on the table with other puppets. "I dunno," Kevin said. "I just don’t think Jim would like it."
"What makes you say that?" Marty asked.
Kevin shrugged. "It’s May sixteenth... I miss him."
Marty smiled. "We all do."
"Yeah, I know," Kevin said. "But I just don’t feel that I’m really... living Jim’s dream, ya know?"
By this time, Jim was floating behind Kevin. "Whatever the case may be," Jim whispered into his ear. "You’ve made my dream live on, Kevin. Thank you." Jim flew off again, leaving Kevin smiling broadly.
"Well, you look happier," Marty said.
"I am happier." The two of them began to walk off the set together. "Thanks, Jim." Kevin whispered to his mentor.
Grain full grain, sun and rain
Find my way in nature’s chain
Tune my body and my brain
To the music of the land
Brian Henson sat down with a script in his hands. "The Power of the Dark Crystal," he read aloud.
Jim sat perched behind Brain’s armchair, reading the script over his head as Brian read it too. Brian fumbled about his person, looking for a pen to make a note on the script.
Jim reached into his holy pocket and dropped it in Brain’s lap. Brian picked it up, and looked around the room. He shrugged and made his marks on the script.
Brain and Jim continued reading the script, as Brian began to scratch something off. Jim cleared his throat. "I like that part," he whispered.
Brian’s head shot up and looked around again. "Who said that?"
Jim bit his lip, he was in a sticky situation now. "Uh... the mighty Skeksis!" Jim declared.
"Or just some kid playing a prank," Brian said, standing up from his chair. He looked behind the armchair, and saw nothing. "Alright, kids, where are you?"
Jim’s face twisted up, as he tried to hold back the laughter. He finally let it out, and flew out of the room.
Brian looked around once more. Then shook his head, and sat back down with his script. "Just like dad, still playing pranks from up there."
Plant your rows, straight and long
Tempur them with prayer and song
Mother Earth will make you strong
If you give her love and care
Jim’s final stop edged closer. He watched Frank Oz on his porch, looking out at the night sky, and went to float next to him.
"Once a year," Frank said to himself. "I always get this way, once a year."
Jim smiled, good to know he was still missed, he thought to himself.
"I suppose that’s Jim’s fault, really," Frank said. "Why’d he have to leave us?"
Jim frowned. Maybe missed wasn’t the word he was looking for.
"But... I guess... I guess I left them too... didn’t I?" Frank asked whoever was listening.
Jim shook his head. He knew that Frank had his own life and career dreams to pursue.
"I wonder... I wonder what Jim would think... if he saw me now," Frank said, with tears welling up in his eyes.
"He would think that he was lucky to know you, Frank, and lucky to have you as a friend."
The voice echoed in Frank’s ears. He didn’t budge. "I love you Jim... and I miss you."
Maybe missed was the right word. "I love you too, Frank, and I certainly do miss you."
Frank looked up at the stars in the sky and began to hum a song.
"But I don’t miss that karate chop of yours," Jim said quickly, before flying home.
Frank laughed, and let the tears roll down his cheeks. "Happy May sixteenth, Jim!"
Old crow watchin’ hungrily
From his perch in yonder tree
In my garden, I’m as free
As that feathered thief up there
Jim Henson sat on his cloud happily. Everyone seemed to be getting along okay without him. They all seemed happy.
His garden had grown to an uncountable size. People from all walks of the earth were working on his projects, his characters, his stories, each of them in his garden.
When he could, he watered them, when he could he would talk to them, but he always had time to watch them grow.
Each plant held the same special place in his heart, and he hoped he knew that. His garden was his favorite thing in this or any world, and nothing would ever change that.
Jerry Juhl floated next to Jim’s cloud. "Hey, Jim?" Jerry asked.
"Yes?" Jim asked.
"Mary Queen of Scots is dying to hear your Swedish Chef voice!" Jerry said.
"She’s already dead," Jim replied blankly.
Jerry grinned. "Just come on, knuckle head!"
Jim smiled. "Okay."
Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna watch this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
And a piece of fertile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm them from below
‘Til the rain comes tumblin’ down
...’Til the rain comes tumblin’ down...
Thank you Jim Henson.
