Oh (my sweet Lord he’s her) Brother

A viewing of “the Great Pumpkin” or “That’s one Big Ass Punkin’” or whatever it is that the kids call it these days is a little different with a glass of wine. And an appreciation for just how odd it is that I enjoyed at 7 years of age a cartoon that employed polysyllabic words that I still have to Google about kids who clearly suffer from a slew of social maladies.

Naturally, I’m struck by just how much like Lucy I really am, making Linus carry the pumpkin from the patch and then stealing it out of his plump hands. And coyly suggesting the kids “bob for apples,” when you know she meant it as dude code. And fooling that dense Charlie Brown by telling him I’ll hold the football steady when he awkwardly comes to punt it. And topping the debacle off with an SAT word no child would know, like “notarized.” The doctor is in, bitches.*

It’s also clear that Snoopy is the only one of the penciled bunch who gets it. He doesn’t feel the need to stick with these losers, instead pursuing some psychedelic combat scene involving the Red Baron while donning a red pashmina. Let the record show that the World War I Flying Ace complete with Nicole Ritchie goggles is oodles cooler than the sheets with holes cut in them. I’d give those kids rocks too if they showed up in those lame JC Penney white sale costumes.

In the most important scheme of things, it’s clear that Linus is the one you try to get a promise ring from even if he does carry that damn blanket. It might come in handy in the back of his Cabrio. If you’ll allow me, I find him to be very George O’Malley, the befuddled and slightly gay man an Americanized Hugh Grant would play in the HBO version. If Linus thinned out he also might have a little Dawson to him, starring in the Schulz High School production of Damn Yankees while still managing to get laid. Yum.

Ugh, and the others. Mr. Brown is just too middle of the road, don’t you think? As an adult, I picture him religiously coming home from his job at the video store to a Tivod Wheel of Fortune and a Klondike bar. I’m pretty sure Schroeder still smells like Water Babies SPF 45 and shops exclusively at Van Heusen outlets. Sally most definitely ends up getting spiral perms well into the ‘00s and traveling statewide to craft fairs. And Pigpen probably runs for city council and does coke off of strippers’ backs. Or maybe just off of Peppermint Pattie’s.

I apologize for that last mental image. Good grief indeed.





* In all seriousness, I just found out that Linus and Lucy are siblings and not completely viable and chirpy love interests. No Pinot Grigio in the world can erase this horror. It’s probably best that I never had a brother.