Picking apart an examination of our numeral system, and putting it back together again.
By Susan Anspach • Illustration by Matt Mignanelli
A long time before we had our son, my husband and I talked about how we didn’t want our kids to watch a lot of TV. Now we know everyone’s human, by which I mean everyone needs three minutes and 19 seconds to use the bathroom in the morning. It’s not enough for a shower, but you can brush your teeth and roll on some deodorant if you’re quick about it. Three minutes and 19 seconds is the YouTube video length of the “Sesame Street” appearance of Texas-based a cappella group Pentatonix.
As the snake is to the pungi flute, my son is to that “Sesame Street” sketch. Thanks to Pentatonix, to “Sesame Street,’ to the Arlington headquarters of broadcast network PBS, I’ve gone to the bathroom so many times. You’ll hear parents complain sometimes about the repetition and monotony of raising young children. They’ll groan about watching the same “Dora the Explorer” episode five times in one night. I don’t know Dora personally, so I couldn’t say. I can say I’ve listened to that Pentatonix song about 300 times in the last 10 months; I’m into it. It’s a snappy tune. On the other hand, I’ve formed real and unexpectedly strong feelings about the sketch, its members, their stage presence, relationships to the camera and each other. Pentatonix and my opinions on Pentatonix have become an important part of who I am, as a mother, writer, budding YouTube “Sesame Street” a cappella sketch critic and member of society.
Pentatonix consists of five members: Scott, Kirstie, Avi, Mitch and Kevin. They’re all young, peppy and, generally speaking, good-looking, but we’ll get to that. In the video, they count to five; that is, sing a collective ditty about each positive whole number preceding and including the number five. Together, they appear on camera for a catchy, be-bopping prelude, then synchronously duck out of sight for a procession of solos dedicated to the numbers at hand.
Up first we have Scott, and the number one. There is no coincidence here. Scott is the Backstreet Boy of Pentatonix. He is tall, with blond hair that he gels, but not to the point where you could call him on it. Scott started Pentatonix, meaning he recruited the other members to team up so they could win NBC’s a cappella competition show, “The Sing-Off,” which they did, in 2011’s Season Three. The other members were a contest requirement, not a dominating concern. Scott knew he would win. Scott’s been winning his whole life. “There’s just one me,” sings Scott. “Nobody like me/ Take a look and see/ Just one me/ The smile on my face is like no smile that you’ve seen.” Rock out with your faux hawk, Scott, and he does. My son open-mouth laughs for Scott, every time.
Next, the number two, and Kirstie, the group’s only girl member, who’s no dog. Kirstie has been singing with Scott since high school, so you know something’s going on there, or used to and now they have to act like it’s no big deal. Around the 180th time I watched Pentatonix count to five I started checking for the moments the sketch makes Kirstie and Scott put their arms around each other, then looking to see who tenses up first. “Oh, the number one is not my favorite number/ ‘Cause one means only me and there’s no you/ But one plus one, you see/ Makes two—that’s you and me!” Scott’s singing this with her. That’s part of the sketch—all the preceding soloists sing backup to their followers—but it’s most delicious here.
Number three is therefore enormously well placed, better than the songwriters of “Sesame Street” or the second-millennium B.C. Babylonians responsible for the base-10 number system ever intended. Number three’s sung by Avi, easily my favorite member of the group. Avi sings bass, which is already sick, but on top of that he is just a very chill dude. In the prelude he saunters out and it’s like, immaculately groomed facial hair? Check. Well-fitting jeans, unpretentious amount of layers (two), effortless smile? Check, check and check. Avi’s got this. He actually lets Scott and Kirstie carry most of the melody for his number—that’s so Avi. Later on there’s a part where he dances a little bit with a cow, but he’s cool about it and in context it makes a whole lot of sense.
Number four’s sung by Mitch. What can you say about Mitch? He’s the worst. Mitch is short and has a voice higher than Kirstie’s. In the video he wears a paisley shirt with a cardigan—although in researching this column I learned that Mitch has a new look he’s developed since the “Sesame Street” performance, and guess what? He’s still Mitch. My son doesn’t possess the ocular control required to roll his eyes, but it’s only a matter of time. Mitch needed props. Nobody else got props. Here are the things they trot out to try and distract you from Mitch: one ratty, beaten-down porch chair; one sheet of faded pink construction paper; and one cow puppet who knows what’s good for him and sticks with Avi the whole time he’s on-camera. “Four is the corners of a square,” sings Mitch. His words.
The number five brings us to Kevin, who’s a beat-boxer; times when he’s not soloing he’s providing the group its percussive line. He’s also a bang-up dresser, and utter darling. “Oh, five is such a pretty number/ I’m awfully glad that I’ve/ Got five people in my family/ One, two, three, four, five.” There he’s referring to the Pentatonix members as a family, and when Kevin says it, you want to believe. Even though Mitch and Avi could never in a thousand years be related, just as Scott and Kirstie could never in that time untangle the briar patch of mixed feelings between them. Off “Sesame Street,” Kevin plays cello, an instrument with which he’s combined his beat-boxing to develop a signature “cello-boxing” style, one he’s performed for Yo-Yo Ma, to no small praise. Kevin has his own Wikipedia page. He doesn’t need this. He’s doing it to be nice.
In order, then: Scott, Kirstie, Avi, Mitch, Kevin. In pecking order: Mitch, Kirstie, Scott, Kevin, Avi. The middle’s hard to quantify but I don’t stand behind it any less: After the sketch, YouTube generates a preview of another Pentatonix video, a behind-the-scenes peek at the gang “backstage” debating which “Sesame Street” song is the best of all time. Naturally it’s a sing-off, with two of them championing the caliber of “Rubber Ducky,” while the other three herald the infallibility of “C is for Cookie.” In the sing-off, Mitch and Kirstie are on one team; Scott, Kevin and Avi on the other—not a fair split in the least. So in spite of being on Cookie’s side, Avi and Kevin end up backing up Mitch and Kirstie, too.
And my son jams to Mitch and Kirstie’s “Rubber Ducky.” Is making each other better what Pentatonix is all about? Is that what singing’s all about? “Sesame Street” and its lessons on making the most out of this crazy, jumbled-up ride we call life? Yes, to all of it. To life, to sweet harmony, and to Pentatonix. You are the reason I get to brush my teeth.
(October 2014)