"Sesame Street," which launched its 35th season on April 5, is a safe place in the increasingly scary world of children's television.

The PBS show is one year older than I am, and with two younger sisters, I pretty much grew up watching it. Originally created with the goal of reaching underprivileged city kids, "Sesame Street" was not geared toward someone like me: a white, middle-class professor's daughter living in a rural area. But the show opened doors for me. I was fascinated by the unfamiliar world of the city — brownstones and blacktop, kids with dark skin twirling jump ropes and dancing hip-hop. I loved hearing Maria and Luis speak Spanish, which I became fascinated with in elementary school. It was my favorite subject in high school and my primary major in college.

I rediscovered "Sesame Street" as a new mom when my 61/2-year-old daughter, Abby, was a toddler. At first, I was horrified by the new "Elmo's World" segment at the end of the show. But the furry red monster gradually grew on me. I even thought the much-sought-after Tickle Me Elmo doll was kind of cute — for about a week.

My daughter's "Sesame Street" years flew by, and she moved on to other shows. She has a lot more choices than I did. Today's array of "children's programming" includes a variety of shows that are violent, weird or just plain dumb; shows with little educational value; shows with loads of commercials for sugary cereals and Disney movies and Barbie dolls; shows that simply do not measure up to the standard set by "Sesame Street."

In the game of "one of these things is not like the others," "Sesame Street" stands out. It offers a unique blend of academic, social and moral lessons, taught by lovable Muppets, real kids and caring adults — and sandwiched between animated clips, celebrity guest spots, catchy songs and a variety of humor, from slapstick to sarcasm.

No other children's show has all this in one package.

Though it offers its share of silliness, "Sesame Street" has also addressed serious issues, including death (Who could forget Mr. Hooper, in his striped shirt and white apron?) and tragedy. When a storm destroyed Big Bird's nest in 2001, I was moved more than my daughter was, watching the 8-foot yellow bird walk around the neighborhood in a daze, repeating, "My home, my nest, my everything ..."

"Sesame Street" also modeled tolerance and diversity before it became politically correct to do so. In this friendly neighborhood, people of various races, colors and ages work together to solve problems, communicating in English, Spanish and even sign language.

The world has changed in 35 years. "Sesame Street" has changed, too, frequently updating its format. But it hasn't changed too much. Many of its sets and characters are the same, and it still includes some of the animated shorts I remember from 25 years ago. It's like a place I inhabited a long time ago and love to go back to and visit.

These days, Abby is busy solving problems with the kid heroes of PBS' "Cyberchase," learning to play chess with SpongeBob on the Nick.com website, and staying up late to catch the first few minutes of "American Idol." Before I know it, she'll be old enough for PG-13 movies and prime-time dramas.

But first, I get to introduce my 4-month-old daughter, Allison, to the people in the old neighborhood. I look forward to laughing at the jokes she doesn't get, and the ones she does; spotting celebrities, singing along with the silly songs, celebrating the number and letter of the day.

Who knows? I might even get Tickle Me Elmo down from the attic.

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Lisa Miller is a freelance writer who lives in Oneonta. She can be reached at lisamiller44@hotmail.com.