When I hop to my computer each morning, I promise myself I won’t fritter away my time. Fuggedaboudit. I get some of my best ideas while frittering.

On Monday, I didn’t have frittering time to spare. I was cleaning up some of my messier computer files when I stumbled across an article I copied last May from the Baltimore Sun newspaper. I had completely forgotten about it.

Upon rereading, I knew why I kept it. It brought back a lot of fun memories. It is about one of my favorite people: Kermit the Frog, star of stage, screen, and swamp.

Yes, Kermit acts like he is one of us. But although he is of amphibian descent, he did an exceptional job imitating a wise person at the University of Maryland’s last commencement. And for once he didn’t have that shameless hussy, Miss Piggy, along for the occasion.

Jim Henson, the creative genius and inventor of the Muppets, graduated from the University of Maryland in 1960. As I noted that date, I realized that Henson probably first made Kermit, who is now 70 years old, when he was still in high school. Kermit’s original eyes were a ping pong ball cut in half, and he was made from Jim’s grandmother’s old coat. What an extraordinary imagination Jim had. The university has honored him – and Kermit – with a bronze statue on campus. The duo also hold their star together on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, like Walt Disney and Mickey.

Kermit has aged well. He has very few wrinkles and doesn’t look a day over 68. Felt does press up nicely. I remember vividly when Kermit entered our family’s life.

In 1973, my daughter was a toddler, and we sat together to watch Sesame Street every afternoon. It was a great time for me to fold laundry, cut out coupons, or snap green beans for dinner. My girl sat cross-legged on the floor staring at the television in rapt attention. She loved Big Bird, Grover, even Oscar the Grouch, although she didn’t understand why he was so mad all the time. But, like me, Kermit was her favorite. She talked to all of them like any playmate, and she asked me an awful lot of frog questions.

My mother watched this daily ritual during one of her regular visits. When she arrived the next time, she asked for some help with the big box in the car trunk. “What’s this about, Mom?”

“Well, I think it’s sinful that my granddaughter is watching Sesame Street in black and white. So, I took care of it.” It was our first color television set. The box held a 25″ RCA XL-100, the flagship color television model introduced in1971. Color TV had entered a new era with this technology, and I had to admit she was right. It made all the difference – in EVERYTHING we watched.

Those were magical years. We lived way out in the Connecticut countryside and yet my only child had her built-in electronic playmates. She learned her alphabet and numbers a year before preschool. And Kermit taught kindness. I loved that. As we read to her each night, she was an active participant. As a first-time mother, I was delighted with everything about Sesame Street’s lessons.

When UMD announced Kermit as their graduation speaker, he was described as an environmental advocate, a bestselling author, an international superstar and a champion of creativity, kindness, and believing in the impossible. I had started out thinking he was just a song and dance man.

To the graduates, the beloved Muppet said, “As you prepare to take this big leap into real life, here’s a little advice — if you’re willing to listen to a frog. Rather than jumping over someone to get what you want, consider reaching out your hand and taking the leap side by side, because life is better when we leap together.”

Then he added, “Find your people. Some of your lifelong friends are sitting with you now. And more are waiting.” He emphasized the importance of meaningful, trusted connections with those friends, your family, your dreams.

Kermit ended with, “Life’s like a movie. Start with the dream and write your own ending. Like today. You’ve all done just what you set out to do. And you’re only getting started!” 

I knew that frog was smart. His childlike wisdom, his mantra of kindness, is the foundation for building a good life.

Jim Henson, the real genius behind Kermit’s insight, died at age 53, a serious loss. He would be 89 today. In his shortened lifetime, he created recognizable characters – good and not so good – with playfulness.

Millions of us, both kids and parents, smile when we see Jim’s Muppets. We know they’re real. They’re us.

Thank you, Jim. (and Kermit).

Marcy O’Brien can be reached at moby.32@hotmailcom.