Growing Up Spongey: SpongeBob at 25, Me at 27

By Luke Durling 

It feels strange when you realize you are two years older than something you grew up loving. Not uncomfortable, because those first few years are a mystery made by youthful ignorance. The sensation is more confusion than anything. How could anyone be older than what they absorbed the most when they were young? 

Somehow, despite not having cable or internet for the longest time, I managed to absorb all I could of SpongeBob SquarePants as it came out. From a combination of a few VHS tapes, DVDs, toys and the reluctant mercy of my school aide with cable, I managed to get completely immersed in the warm waters of Bikini Bottom and its’ pineapple dwelling protagonist. I grew to love the show so much that I proudly own the show’s golden, first 100 episodes on DVD and am currently reeling my way through it all over again. 

The thing I remember most about SpongeBob growing up is the adults in my life absolutely hating the giggling kitchen utensil. They would roll eyes and moan whenever I brought up the concept. Honestly, that was probably part of the appeal. There’s something really cool about having something no one else or very few people understand, especially when you’re a kid. It’s like having something you’re not supposed to have, but is still given to you anyway. Even today, when I tell people I genuinely love the yellow fry cook, I still get the same reactions I got when I was five . How could a grown man still question the instrumental potential of mayonnaise, still study Wumbology, or know the F.U.N. Song by heart? I think a small part of my parents had a heart attack when I told them they’d have to see me in the one show at The Croswell they had no desire to see. Take no pity on them, dear reader. That was my diabolical, lemon scented plan this whole time. 😁 (November 22nd-December 1st, just to remind everyone. Tickets are available now and are going quite fast already. Get yours ASAP.) 

One thing I will honestly admit about the show after taking a reflective look at it is that the further the show goes on, the more SpongeBob cries. Now, I don’t know why this happens. It seems to happen after season three, after the first movie and the original creator Stephen Hillenberg stepped down as showrunner to avoid what is currently happening to the franchise, but I digress. If you’ve never heard or seen the show before, the main character of SpongeBob has two, distinct vocal traits, his laughter and his sobs. While most people find his nasally, warbling laugh to be the main irritant (there’s even an episode dedicated to this concept). I never really found it to be the case. SpongeBob’s laugh has a musical element to me that changes from mood to mood, a trait thanks to the legendary voice actor Tom Kenny. However, on the opposite side of the spectrum is where the skill becomes a little too good. SpongeBob doesn’t just cry, the eternal optimist wails with all the power that a cartoon character can muster. While these shrieking fits are tolerable in short bursts, the wailing of baby tears gets quite grating when played over and over, especially when on a binge. I realize that SpongeBob is considered an optimist and for the most part he is, but the way he was written for about seven or eight episodes in particular makes even the most empathetic side of my mind consider being as cantankerous as Squidward. 

While I do understand the imperfections of my porous companion and his constituents. I am still not sure what people find so utterly droll about the show. Yes the show is slightly stupid and absurd, but the point of the show is to be exactly that. You can’t expect everything to be highbrow and completely nuanced in life. Sometimes, you just need some silliness and imagination to wash away the negativity and fear of being “mature “. 

In fact, one of my finest memories of the SpongeBob franchise did exactly that while having nothing to do with the actual show itself. I had, and still have, a PlayStation 2 growing up. One of the games I had was Battle for Bikini Bottom. I’m unsure how exactly it came to be, but my parents started playing it with me. Mind you, until this point my parents still had reservations about SpongeBob. They played that game probably more than I did, with a passion I had never quite seen from them before! My Mom and Dad even stayed up past my own bedtime to pursue Golden Spatulas or beat a robotic boss. The two had so much fun that when we dug out and dusted off the console years later, the game was one of our first played with the same joy and excitement we had back in the day. 

SpongeBob had brought the childish giddiness back for my parents and instilled it in me. Even now, watching the series again brings me something special I seem to lose every once in a while, more often as I and the world grow into seemingly more and more chaotic moments.  SpongeBob gives me joy. Pure, whimsical and truly unadulterated joy. Not only that, but the sheer brevity of the series and that joy tells me that SpongeBob’s optimism is not only eternal, but also much deeper than most would ever believe. That the saccharine sweetness of best days ever with our best friends forever are not only possible, but also happen most often in the silliest moments of our lives. The moments we roll our eyes the hardest with a smile on our face are often the ones that we never forget, no matter what our curmudgeonly neighbors of reality or our conscious say.