Watching reruns of the Pink Panther this afternoon, I started contemplating the quality of TV these days. It's not enough anymore for enormous boulders to repetitively fall on a pink feline and a clueless detective, or a yellow canary with a lisp to sing off key; kids these days prefer souped up cars and teenage drama, corny puns and dumb blonds.
Personally, I loved it when a dinosaur belched in Fred Flintstone's face, a giant anvil fell out of no where onto Wiley Coyote, or Scooby Doo always complied for a Scooby Snack. Hannah Barbara and Warner Brothers were the "real deal," if you ask me. What happened to the days when simplicity and slap stick were the driving forces behind cartoons? Take me back to those Looney Toon days!