Good Grief

When I was a kid, mostly in my single digits, I had a somewhat obsessive fondness for the Peanuts gang. I had books of the comic strip, read it in the Sunday funny papers every week, slept on stiff character sheets, and had a stuffed toy Snoopy. I even won a Snoopy drawing contest that was held by the after school cartoon kiddie show in Portland, “Ramblin’ Rod.” My prize was a ticket to a particular broadcast that I would be introduced on. I didn’t get to go. No one would take me. I was quite devastated and spent the afternoon bawling on the bathroom floor. I didn’t get my 15 minutes (sigh). And of course, always, and I mean always, watched “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown” and “A Charlie Brown Christmas.” It wasn’t Halloween and Christmas without parking myself on the floor in front of the TV. Still isn’t.

I like all the diverse characters and personalities, especially Snoopy. He’s smart, worldly, resourceful and very cute. I wanted one of my own growing up but settled for the toy version instead. I love the groovy, sophisticated jazz score by Vince Guaraldi. I related to Charlie Brown the most though. Like Charlie, I was made fun of, was the misfit, felt out of place, and was afraid of almost everything. But in spite of it all Charlie was kind, introspective, and tried hard to be liked. By shows end he seemed to stand up for himself, let all the negative stuff roll off, and move on. I later learned that Charles Schulz related to Charlie as well. Mr. Schulz was shy, imaginative, and loved his dog. Even throughout a globally successful career he didn’t understand what all the fuss was about.

I still ogle those holiday specials every season. Although I’m not that into Halloween, “Great Pumpkin” makes me feel a bit like a participant. And it isn’t Christmas unless I catch “A Charlie Brown Christmas” and listen to that fantastic soundtrack. Seeing it always makes me feel like the kid that got so excited when dad brought home the Christmas tree and mom got the decorations stored in Kirby vacuum cleaner boxes down from the attic. Lights went up on the house and glowed that warm glow that only comes from xmas lights. Packages multiplied under the tree and mom’s candy making (divinity, toffee with chocolate on BOTH sides, hand painted chocolate cups with a minty chocolate mousse inside) turned the kitchen into a factory of confection (I can still taste them). But I feel a little sad as I watch, though, because I’m not that kid anymore. Not that I want to be.

Now, when I look at Charlie Brown I no longer relate to him though. I egg him on. The other Peanuts, except for Linus maybe, were so mean to him. Watching “Great Pumpkin” recently as Charlie kept getting rocks in his trick-or-treat bag, I thought he’s the one that brings a gun to school — who could blame him? I gripe at the TV wanting Charlie to kick Lucy’s ass, bitch slap Violet and punch Schroeder in the nuts. He doesn’t deserve all that meanness. It makes me mad. But that’s not Charlie. He’s a good, sensitive kid.

Wanting Charlie to be a fighter says a lot about how I’ve changed. No longer will I put up with name calling and I’m happy not to fit in. I wish I could pat Charlie on the back and tell him to hang in there. Don’t take any crap. Stick with Snoopy, he’s (Joe) cool and knows what’s going on. Stay close to Peppermint Patty because she calls you “Chuck” (and just might be a lesbian which is way interesting). Always be friends with Linus because he’s intelligent, loyal, and gives good advice — as long as you leave his blanket alone. I like to think CB would grow up to be a talented, successful, creative soul who made a difference in life. Be a good boyfriend or husband. Maybe a dad. And, in the end, would never know what all the fuss was about.