Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Parental Advisory

My son has been reading a lot of Mad magazine lately. My wife and I discovered a "bathroom reader" collection of vintage cartoons and parodies on one of our last Christmas shopping excursions. It was one of those things that we ended up enjoying so much, we decided to give it to ourselves. Now my son is learning the joys of Don Martin's situation-specific sound effects, the "lighter side" of Dave Berg," and just how funny the word "blecch" can be.
This got me thinking: I started reading Mad when I was younger than my son is now. It helped to shape/warp my vision of the world, and taught me the broad strokes of satire. It also taught me that even a magazine created by "the usual gang of idiots" could have standards. Mad was always better than its poor cousin, Cracked.
And I knew that it was a fairly short trip down the news stand from Mad to National Lampoon. This was quite a quick transition, considering I spent a good many years believing with all my heart that "Family Circus" was edgy because they had a dog named "Barfy." Of course during this time I was also a regular reader of the cartoons in "The New Yorker," so my tastes were constantly evolving.
Now my son has taken to reading Matt Groening's "Life In Hell" comics. Much like his father's experience with George Booth and Charles Addams, there are some jokes that fly harmlessly over his head. We have yet to have any embarrassing heart-to-heart discussions about topics neither one of us is comfortable. Much in the same way that we watch "The Simpsons" together. There are things he laughs at, things I laugh at, and things we laugh at together. That gulf is shrinking. Maybe it's time to get him a subscription to "The New Yorker."

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