Cartoons
I grew up on them. Long before the television blossomed into a banal and countless cartoon menagerie, there were a select few channels from which to choose. My preferred viewing agenda was Looney Tunes, Tom & Jerry and Hong Kong Phooey. 
Timeless classics of the perverted culture of the age, there was rarely an after school date or Saturday morning pajama fest that didn’t find the antics of these zany characters splashing across the screen. Mix into that a box of Frosted Flakes or some other equally sugar inducing cereal, and WHAMMO! you had yourself an event.
Among the most classic in my memory, What’s Opera Doc? (aka Spear and Magic Helmet), Rabbit of Seville and Touché Pussycat. Can I tell you? The cavalcades of classical music and animated chaos that permanently imprinted the psyche. Nothing but sheer genius. So many wonderful snippets of memory, Marvin the Martian, the Coyote Acme antics and a host of other creative seeds.
Cartoons. I wouldn’t be the creature I am today without them.