The Muppets present "The Picture of Dorian Green"

Old Muppets, including “one of the many puppets that have played Kermit,” have been donated to the Center for Puppetry Arts in Atlanta, according to the New York Times’s Brenda Goodman.

“At the moment, they have not been given the entire collection,” Cheryl Henson [daughter of the late Jim Henson] said in an interview on Friday. “We are assuming we are going to give them the best of our collection,” she added, explaining that the archive owned by the family consists of “a couple thousand” items, but that many have become too fragile to exhibit. “Some of our collection has gotten old; even in the last seven years it has deteriorated. It’s not that we’re holding back a large portion of the collection.” Built from foam and fabric, each puppet character had multiple copies because of performance wear and tear. The gift covered puppets that could no longer be used to perform…

This is very disillusioning. I should have known that Kermit was actually a number of interchangeable bodies (like Lassie). Apparently, he keeps his youthful appearance by banishing his aging selves to attics and museums, taking the Dorian Gray method to a whole new level. But it would have been more interesting had we seen Kermit, Fozzie, Miss Piggy, etc. develop bald patches, sagging skin, and discoloration as they got older, just like the rest of us. Why not teach kids about the ravages of life through the sun damage from Ernie and Bert’s trips to the nude beaches of Provincetown, not to mention Oscar the Grouch’s attempts to hide his hair loss with a comb-over? I guess if you want to see deteriorating puppets, you’ll have to rent Meet the Feebles.

Know when to keep your mouth shut

A source in Montreal adds another item to my list of old-man noises to avoid, including grunts when I pick something off the floor and exaggerated expressions of satisfaction ("Ahhh!") with a glass of tap water. So I will never check into a room in a bathhouse, take off all my clothes, leave the light on and the door open, lie on my back in what I imagine to be an enticing pose, fall asleep, and snore loudly enough so that everyone in the place wanders by to see who is having his way with an asthmatic water buffalo. The closest thing to making this faux pas in Boston would be to log on to Manhunt.com and send the following instant message to everyone online: SCHKKKONXXX........

Yesterday a quarter fell out of a pair of jeans as I was hanging them up, and as I bent down to pick it up, I let out a "oof"-like grunt. This was another in a long series of horrifying indicators that I might be aging. The sound was so automatic that I couldn't figure out whether I made it because: a. My body was objecting to the strenuous task of bending at the waist, b. I was annoyed at wasting precious seconds of my morning by picking up loose change, or c. I just like to hear the sound of my own voice. In an attempt to banish the first possibility, I bent down repeatedly to pick up 15 imaginary quarters and didn't let a sound pass through my lips. It was the most exercise I had had in a month. But I fear I might cause a brain aneuryism if I keep stifling myself so that I don't have to move any muscles.