For those who have been living in a cable-challenged cave, Phineas and Ferb are the main characters in their self-titled cartoon. Stepbrothers (Ferb’s a Brit), students, and impromptu imaginationists, these two make impossible things real on a daily basis. They’ve built roller coasters (while roasting hot dogs), traveled back into time, locating a living dodo bird, defied Mother Nature, and almost any other magnificent thing ever.
Forever on summer break, each episode starts with a bit or two, then Phineas saying he knows “what they are going to do” that day. They then construct, prospect, navigate, and crime fight their way into our hearts without a lick of logic of consequence. And they do so with zero parent supervision. In fact, their mother is so busy shopping and getting her hair done that she fails to notice these elaborate activities.
The two also have the worst sister that has ever existed, Candace. Voiced by Ashley Tisdale, this craphole of a human tries (tirelessly) to get the two caught. Only she is too dumb; it never works. Mind your own business, Tiz, your brothers have work to do. Stop ruining their lives and mine.
Now that you’re up to speed…
The first time I ever saw the show is a real blur in the mental calendar. But whether I found it by accident or was held head-to-TV by a masked gunman, it was one of the best events of my life. It’s just that great.
But some days, usually when seasons have been altered or theatrical productions explored, I can’t help but wondering why my own summer vacations weren’t, err, Phin and Ferbier. Why didn’t I enter a hot air balloon race? Why haven’t I fashioned a lifelike monster? Why don’t I contact old band members and convince them to do a throwback concert in my backyard? (I’m thinking Spice Girls meets Backstreet Boys meets Salt N Peppa.)
If I’d had a more ambitious childhood, how would my life look today? Would I be the Jackiest of all trades? With the ability to fashion generators or purchase thousands of dollars of equipment on a zero-dollar income? Or would I have squandered my talent by selling my futuristic inventions?
Probably. Having virtues that only cartoon characters can, the duo holds many traits childhood and adult me could never live up to.
Reasons P&F are better than me:
- If my head was so triangle-y, my cheeks would be permanently red.
- They never have to pick out outfits — perma-wear would be a welcome change, some days.
- I hate Cand-ass and she’s not even my sister.
- My tri-state area consists of Missouri and Nebraska. Gross.
- I have no catch phrases, and I I’ve never said, “Where’s Perry?”
- I am bad at building, thinking up, and most other things required of a full-time child adventurer.
- But despite how little we have in common, my P&F love will continue to flood deep. Yes I’m above the typical cartoon-watching age (I think), and it’s true that my hair color did not come from a marker, but I still never fail to awe at the quirky-named pair.
Also worth noting:
Christmas morning was made when Disney scheduled a P&F marathon; thanks, DVR.
When daycare-running cousin invited Santa to see her kids, he handing out Ferb tats. (I’m still jealous.) Stick-on and glorious, cousin wasn’t sure which character they held. “You got Phinneas or Ferb,” she said. “I don’t know which.” Looking to the help of a child, he was still unidentified. Luckily I was there to save the day with my cartoon knowledge. Although I would have thought Santa would have known. Doesn’t he deliver Ferb toys? Shouldn’t he help critique elves’ rendition of each rectangle head? Besides, he’s the one that brought the tats.
For your reference:
Finally, as Ferb would say,
“With a slight chance of scattered lawn gnomes.
“And that is why I will never wear suspenders in public.”