If you could pronounce (and spell!) Dippo-no-Dungus, Bippo-no-Bungus and Zozzfozzel before you hit pre-school...

If you're cognizant of every step that led to the tweetle beetle noodle poodle bottled paddled muddled duddled fuddled wuddled fox in socks...

If you can trace your social tolerance, your small stubborn streak, and your entrepreneurial talents back to, respectively, Sneetches, Zaxes, and Sylvester McMonkey McBean...

...then you might have Dr. Seuss to thank for empowering you with your love for language.

Theodore Seuss Geisel often credited his mother, who would sooth her children to sleep by chanting rhymes remembered from her own youth, for his delightful and distinctive way with words. But it was actually one very specific--and unusual--assignment that launched his remarkable success in children's literature. Prompted by a 1954 Life Magazine article on illiteracy among schoolchildren, Geisel's publisher devised a list of 400 words which he felt were important for children to learn, then forwarded the list to Geisel with instructions that he work as many of them as possible into a single children's book. Nine months later, 220 of the specified words appeared in a book so irresistible to new readers that it sealed the future of the former government propagandist as the best-loved children's author of all time: The Cat in the Hat.

Some critics of Seuss have put forth the idea that his improbable prose is a detriment rather than an advantage to youngsters who should instead be learning real words (and there is some merit to the claim, I suppose--I think I was in my twenties before anyone could convince me that Timbuktu and Nantucket were real places, they sounded even less plausible than Whoville). But I've puzzled and puzzled until my puzzler was sore and decided that these critics missed the point entirely. Seuss's whimsical nonsense-rhymes were phonetically constructed with an almost-mathematical precision that aimed for a much loftier goal than teaching us individual words: He taught us how to learn. Decades before Hooked On Phonics latched onto the idea, Seuss promoted the art of sounding out words, syllable by syllable, so effectively that even his outrageous tongue-twisters were within our childish grasps. That most of his works also contained symbolism relating important political, social, and moral messages is, of course, a welcome bonus and further testament to his subtle genius.

There are multitudes of web sites dedicated to the works of Dr. Seuss, whether you're looking to rekindle your own fond memories or to teach a whole new generation that "the more that you read, the more things you will know, the more that you learn, the more places you'll go." This one, Seussville, is a good place to start because, in addition to its wealth of Seussian games, music, and links, it is a major proponent of the National Education Association's Read Across America.

Of course, there's always the chance that I'm being too long-winded, over-analytical, and presumptuous, here. In defining his motivation, Seuss himself said simply, "I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells."